“I thought you might need a break,” I said.
“Yes, thank you. It is … overwhelming.” He sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled. “I am still trying to understand everything. There were no dead girls?”
“No, there were. That’s what I came to tell you. I talked to Polly Watson.”
“I thought—”
“No, it was her. I’m sure of it.” I told him how I’d seen the girls at the inn and now here.
“That is terrible,” he said, getting to his feet. “You must tell those reporters downstairs.”
“Actually, that’s why I called you in here. I want you to tell them.” I beamed at him. “You have a gift, Gregor. A true gift, and your story really touched me. I’ve had my fifteen minutes of fame. Now, it’s your turn.”
He shook his head. “No, this is yours. You saw them—”
“I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” I took his arm. “Come on. I’ve already seeded the story.”
“Seeded …”
“Oh, I’m sure you know what that means. Your English is a lot better than you let on, which is what I’d expect from someone who lived in the States for most of his childhood.”
“Wh-what? I did not live …”
When he trailed off, I released his arm. “Not sure you want to finish that, considering it’s a matter of public record? So is your real last name. Demidov. I don’t know why you changed it. It’s such a great name. Did you know there’s a family of Russian necromancers by that name? Quite famous. They say one even worked for the czars, back in the day.”
“I don’t know—”
“Well, I do. I know you’re a necromancer. You came on this show hoping to make your name by crushing mine. You found Polly Watson’s link to the house and invented a story, which you leaked to Mike. Then you convinced—or bullied—ghosts who looked like the missing girls to put on a show for me, complete with period costume and tragic death scenes. You hired Frank to help with the scheme. What is he? Half-demon? Minor telekinesis? Good at slamming doors? Doesn’t matter, really. His main role was to persuade me to say on camera that I was seeing the dead girls and the killer. Then you’d refute my claims. When the truth came out, that the letters were fake, it would be obvious I was a con artist and you were the real deal.”
Gregor edged toward the door. “You’re crazy,” he said, dropping most of his accent. “I don’t know what—”
He bumped into Jeremy.
“Hello,” Jeremy said. When Gregor tried to duck past, Jeremy tugged him back. “Not yet.”
Gregor struggled, but Jeremy just stood there, casually holding him fast.
“You know,” I said, “you really need to do more research on the people you try to scam. Do you know who Jeremy is?”
“I don’t care,” Gregor said, backing into the room as Jeremy released his hold. “You can’t prove any of this, and I’ll fight you if you try. I know people and—”
Something shimmered in the corner. Gregor noticed it. I did, too. Jeremy frowned slightly, sensing a ghost.
Light flashed, bright enough to make Gregor stumble back. A figure strode through. She was about forty, with long dark hair, and was dressed in jeans, boots, and a white blouse. In her right hand she held a four-foot-long sword, glowing with a blue light.
“Goddamn it,” Eve said, striding toward us. “I did not need this. I really did not need this.”
Gregor backed up until he hit the bed. “Is … is that—?”
“An angel,” I said. “A very pissed-off one, apparently. Let me introduce you to my spirit guide, Eve Levine. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”
“What?” Eve said, turning her scowl on Gregor. “He’s a necromancer?” She squinted at his spirit glow and then swore under her breath and shook her sword at him. “You breathe one word of this—”
“I-I won’t say anything.”
“You know what this is?” She waved the sword as he backed into the corner.
“Sword of Judgment,” I said. “Used to send souls to purgatory.” I paused. “Is that blood on it?”
“Yeah, I’m racking up bonus points today.” She swung the sword at Gregor. “Don’t make me add to—”
“I-I won’t. I-I’m not going to say a word. I’m just … I’m leaving now.” He turned to me. “I’ll go back to Russia. You won’t hear from me again.”
“Good.”
Gregor stumbled out the door. I shut it behind him.
“Damn,” Eve said. “I’ve met some nervous necros in my day, but that guy’s a mess. Did he really think I’d run him through if he told anyone he saw an angel?” She shook her head. “Exactly how bad is my reputation these days?”
I sputtered a laugh. “That’s what you were warning him about?”
She plunked onto the bed. “I missed something, didn’t I?” She glanced at Jeremy. “Hey, Jer.”
“Eve says hi,” I said.
He returned the greeting and offered to make sure Gregor fulfilled his promise to leave quietly.
“Where the hell are we?” she said, looking around after Jeremy left.
“Amityville.”
“Of course.” She pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged. “I have a problem and I need your help. Leah O’Donnell has escaped from her hell dimension.”
“Leah …” I paused. “The Leah O’Donnell?”
Leah—a half-demon—had befriended, betrayed, and then kidnapped Savannah as a child. She’d tried to kill Paige, and ended up being killed by her.
“Savannah’s home, isn’t she?” Eve said. “In Portland? Same with Paige?”
I nodded. “Jeremy spoke to both of them about twenty minutes ago.”
“Good. Leah’s apparently over here, on the east coast. If she wants to remain out of hell, she’ll stay far away from Savannah and Paige. She knows that’s the first place I’d look. So we aren’t going to tell them she’s out.”
“Are you sure that’s—?”
“They’d only worry and want to help. I want you to keep in contact with them. If they start reporting flying objects, we know our Volo has made her way west. For now, though, I have a bead on her and, with your help, I’m going to get her back to hell before Paige and Savannah ever know she was out.”
One case ending, another starting. Feast or famine, that’s the way it seems to go in this life. The show was over. Mike had flown to LA to meet with the studio execs and figure out their next move. I was sure they’d find a way to salvage this wreck, as they had with Death of Innocence. At least now maybe they’d believe I really was a reality-show curse. Unless, once again, they ended up making more money with the revised version than they’d hoped for with the planned one. Damn it. I might have to lie low for a while.
Lying low wouldn’t work with Eve. She needed my help. Our relationship went both ways, with me doing tasks in the human world that her non-corporeal form wouldn’t allow. Luckily, a lot of that involved computers and telephones, which kept me out of any actual action. This time, considering who was involved, staying out of the action might not be so easy.
“I think I need more of these.” I sat on our hotel bed, fingering my rune tattoo. “Do you have one for protection from TV reality shows? And guardian angels?”
Jeremy smiled and rubbed my foot. “Sorry. I’ll help with Leah, though. You know that. I can get Clay and Elena involved if it comes to that.”
“I don’t want that bitch anywhere near the kids.” I paused. “I mean Leah. Not Eve.”
He laughed and leaned over to kiss me. “She’s still tracking Leah, isn’t she? You don’t need to rush off yet?”