The Prophet

here now, he could come back at any time.”

“Are you sure the killer was male?”

“No, but whoever it was didn’t seem to have much trouble moving the body.”

Devlin’s hands came back up to tighten around my arms. “Did you see anything? The killer’s shoes? Clothing? Anything at all?”

“I couldn’t see anything. I was hidden underneath the desk.”

“Thank God,” he said, still in that strange tone. “Where are you parked?”

I gave a vague wave. “A block over.”

“Go there now,” he said. “Get in your car, lock the doors and drive straight home. Don’t talk to anyone about this.”

“What are you going to do?”

His gaze moved back to the stairs. “I have things to take care of here.”

“Aren’t you going to call for backup?” I asked naively.

He hesitated. “If I need it.”

A minute ago I had been all but pleading with him to leave. Now I heard myself say plaintively, “Why can’t I stay here with you?”

“Because you said yourself it’s not safe.”

“But I’m a witness. You said the police would want to talk to me.”

“Not if I can help it.”

His tone alarmed me, and I felt the iciest chill slide down my spine, tapping the fear that had been niggling at me since I’d seen him at the bottom of the stairs. “Did you already know about Gerrity?”

He scowled down at me. “Why would you ask that?”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress a suspicion I didn’t want to blossom. “You got here so quickly and you seemed surprised to see me. And now you’re so anxious to send me away.” I clutched his arm. “You never got my message, did you? That’s not why you’re here.”

“Go home, Amelia.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” I whispered.

“Go home and wait for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He took a step back from me, and my hand fell away. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” His dark gaze burned into mine. “I need you away from here. I need you safe.”

That would have been the perfect time to show him the medallion I’d found in Gerrity’s office, but I said nothing. I was too afraid of my own suspicions.

As I watched him disappear up the stairs, I had to battle the impulse to follow, but the last thing I wanted was to cause him any trouble, so for now I would do as he asked. I would go home and wait on pins and needles to hear from him.

Halfway back to my car, I realized the hand that had clutched his arm was smeared with blood.

*   *   *

I was still staring at that blood a few minutes later when I climbed into the SUV.

Was that Devlin’s blood on my hand? It had to be. I hadn’t seen any in Gerrity’s office, and I wasn’t hurt. Although it was certainly possible I’d come into contact with it without even realizing it.

But what about Devlin’s odd behavior and the fact that he’d arrived at Gerrity’s office so quickly? If my frantic plea for help hadn’t brought him there, what had?

Too many questions swirled in my head. I felt overwhelmed and weighed down by my suspicions. I kept telling myself I could do nothing but go home and wait for Devlin. I had to trust that my questions would be answered and my doubts laid to rest all in good time.

Safely sequestered inside my car, I dug through the console for the pack of wet-naps I kept stored there. As I scrubbed the blood from my hand, I detected a stealthy movement in my periphery. Under normal circumstances, I would have shown no outward reaction. All my years of living with ghosts had steadied my nerves. But it wasn’t every day one found a dead body covered in beetles, so I was a little off my game and I whirled with a start.

A woman with matted blond hair shuffled up to the car, and my finger went automatically to the lock button even though the mechanism had engaged when I closed the door. I saw no weapon, and from her tattered clothing, I took her for one of the homeless that gathered in nearby Marion Square. She was probably just looking for a handout, but my every instinct sounded a warning as she peered into my window.

Her unblinking stare chilled me. The irises of her eyes were colorless and frosted as though afflicted with cataracts, but she was a young woman. Her skin was unlined, her complexion pale and translucent. My heart went out to her. She was so painfully scrawny I wondered how long she’d been on the street.

I remembered something Devlin had said about some of the unfortunate souls who made their way back from a gray dust trip. His description fit this woman perfectly—glazed eyes, a shuffling walk as though she’d dragged something back from hell with her.

She wasn’t a ghost. I was almost certain of that, unless she had the same ability as Robert Fremont to present herself as human.

“Will you help me?” Her voice through the glass sounded flat and defeated, and I had the unwise urge to take her home and feed her a decent meal.

Digging in my bag, I found some bills and lowered the window just enough to shove them through. “Please, take them,” I said. “That’s all I have on me.”

The money fluttered to the ground unnoticed. “Will you help me?” she repeated in that same, strange monotone. Her voice, those eyes…everything about her deeply troubled me. If not money, what did she want?

Anxiously, I scanned the street behind her as I reached for my phone. “Are you hurt?” I asked through the window. “Should I call somebody?”

“Will you help me?”

“I’m calling 911—”

“Will you help me?” The inflection was barely perceptible, but it stopped me cold.

I clutched my phone. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make it go away.”

I swallowed in dread. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She was still muttering as she turned to shuffle away, back bowed like that of an old woman.

It was only after she reached the shadow of a nearby building that I saw the fragile, glimmering outline of the ghost that clung to her.

Chapter Thirty-Two

As soon as I got home, I went straight to the bathroom, stripped and took a shower. I’d scrubbed all the blood away earlier, but I could still feel those beetles crawling over me. I stayed under the hot water for only a few minutes, though, because I was afraid of missing Devlin’s call. Dressing warmly in jeans, boots and a thick sweater, I took Angus out for a quick walk around the block, but I could hardly enjoy our time together. My mind kept bouncing from Gerrity’s murder to Devlin’s medallion to that poor girl on the street who had wanted my help.

How had she known to come to me? Was this yet another door that I’d inadvertently opened?

I longed for the time when Papa’s rules had kept me safe, but those days were long gone. My life was changing in ways that I could hardly imagine—didn’t want to imagine—but there was no going back. Papa had warned me about the dangers of falling for a haunted man, but even now, I couldn’t bring myself to wish Devlin from my life. He was too important to me. He was everything to me.

My fingers curled around the medallion in my pocket, and I rubbed my thumb over the cool texture as though the talisman could somehow connect us. Where was he? I wondered desperately. Why hadn’t he called?

The breeze blowing through the trees sounded like whispers, and I found myself huddling in my sweater as I hurried Angus along. I remembered thinking how close the spirit world had seemed on that night I’d gone to Devlin’s house. The nip in the wind had been unusual, a sudden gust tainted by the frost of death. I felt that same