Queen of the Dead

“But”—she leaned closer—“then I had some time to think about it, and you’re not any of those things, are you? You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, the no-talent thing was pretty clear,” I said.

She grinned and something dangerous gleamed in her eyes, which, I noted with a bit of shock, appeared to be two different colors, blue and green.

“Funny. I like that,” she said.

And third time’s a charm.…“So what do you—”

“I’m proposing an arrangement,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“Uh-huh.” Even I could hear the suspicion in my voice.

“You help me out with a little something, and I give you information.”

“Information about what?”

She grinned again. “Everything you don’t know.”

“What makes you think I don’t—”

She pulled something small, shiny, and silver from one of her pockets, holding it up and waggling it at me. It was, I was fairly certain, the device that had saved my life by vanquishing Mrs. Ruiz right before my eyes. I could see it had buttons on the top and wires sticking out of one end, details I’d missed before. “Standard issue,” she said.

“For who?” I couldn’t help myself from asking.

She smirked. She knew she had me then.

Then her expression grew more guarded. “First things first. You can see them, can’t you? I mean, better than I can.” Her mouth tightened as if admitting that last fact had actually pained her.

I assumed she was talking about ghosts. “I don’t know. I can—”

“You knew when my aim was off,” she said sharply.

Boy, she was not fond of letting me finish a thought. “Yeah, but it wasn’t off by that much.…”

“When they move, I lose them,” she said bitterly. “I can see them just fine while they’re still, but when they start moving around, I can’t get a bead on them.” She shook her head. “It’s like my eyes can’t keep up with my brain.”

That was, oddly enough, something I’d never considered before, when I’d been thinking of the possibility that there would be other ghost-talkers out there. That there would be disparities in level of ability. Though it kind of made sense. Just because a bunch of people could play the trumpet didn’t mean they could all play it equally well, with equal aptitude for the high and low notes or whatever.

She looked up at me with a glare, as though daring me to feel sorry for her. “I can hear them better than anyone, though. I heard the princess whining long before I ever saw her.” She scowled at me. “How on earth did you end up with that tagalong?”

Somehow I sensed that explaining the whole spirit guide thing might not be a great move right now. “We’re friends.” Which was more or less the truth.

She raised an eyebrow. “Friends or friends friends?”

I wasn’t even sure what that meant, but her tone suggested that “friends friends” was something more, and not an area I particularly wished to discuss right at this moment because I really didn’t know the answer anyway. Alona and I were…well, we were just us. That was all.

“What do you want me to do in exchange for this information you’re supposedly going to give me?” I asked instead.

She shrugged, looking a little more self-conscious than I’d seen before. “This is my last chance at a containment if I want full membership. I might need a little help getting Mrs. Ruiz in the box.” Her voice held a defensive note.

Ignoring, for the moment, that most of what she’d justsaid sounded like gibberish—“in the box” was a little ominous, and full membership in what? — I had a larger concern. “Mrs. Ruiz? But…she’s gone. I saw you fire that thing and—”

The girl grinned again, clearly enjoying my ignorance. “Nah, the disruptor just disperses their energy enough to break them up temporarily. It takes multiple hits if you want it to be permanent, and even then, sometimes it doesn’t work. On one like her? No way. Did you see the way she was closing those doors on you?”

“I thought she was going to trap me in there with her,” I said with a grimace.

She laughed. “She might have. It’s been known to happen to a few of us who’ve fallen asleep at the wheel, so to speak. Not with her, obviously, but other green-levels.”

“Green-levels?” I asked.

She just gave me a knowing smile. No more info, not until I agreed to help. Got it.

“So…you want my help to get Mrs. Ruiz in the box, whatever that means, and you’ll tell me about—”

“Everything,” she finished. “Or as much of it as I can. Like I said, I’m not a full member yet.”

Of what? I wanted to ask, but I knew better than to try, at least right now. “And then what?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you get Mrs. Ruiz and I get all this information, and then what?” I couldn’t help but think of Alona’s theory that this was some kind of complicated recruiting scheme. “I meet the others or—”

“No,” she said sharply. “This has to stay between us.”

Oh. “Okay,” I said, drawing it out. What was the point, then?

She made an impatient noise and stood, shoving the chair out of the way. “Look, we can help each other here. That’s it.”

I just looked at her.

She sighed heavily. “If, in a month or two, you want to make contact, I’ll show you how to do that. But you and I have never met each other before, get it?”

I nodded.

She stepped closer, grabbing the front of my shirt in her fist. “I’m serious. I know where we keep all the green-levelsand worse. Wouldn’t keep me up at night to set a few of themloose in your living room, if you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

I nodded hastily. She was hard-core. I kind of liked that.

She shoved the chair toward me and started for the window, clearly expecting me to follow.

Not without jeans, thanks. “And…one more thing,” I said. “Your name. Your real name.”

She faced me and hesitated.

I lifted my hands. I wasn’t going anywhere without it. She already knew mine and where to find me. I wasn’t completely sure I liked that idea.

“Mina,” she said finally. “Mina Blackwell.”

I waited.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said in a huff. She reached into the back pocket of her pants, pulled free a battered card, and handed it to me.

It was a driver’s license with a picture that showed a slightly younger and much happier Mina Blackwell. She had braces in the photo, which made her look so much more vulnerable. According to the info, she had one blue eye and one green, just as I’d thought, and she was older than me by about six months. “St. Louis?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I go where I’m sent.”

“That’s a long drive.” I handed her back her license.

She tucked it away in her pocket again. “Not nearly as long as if I have to go back without what I came for,” she said pointedly.

Okay, got it. Down to business.

* * *

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I ended up hunched in prickly rosebushes at the Gibley Mansion. This time, though, just for a little variety, we were on the opposite side of the former garden.

Most of the cops who’d come roaring in earlier had left by now. Only a couple of squad cars remained at the front of the house. Dopey and a couple of the officers took turns patrolling the inside and the perimeter immediately around the mansion. The rest of the time they stayed out front, making sure their presence was noticeable.