Darker Days

the back of the lot, there was a single stone mausoleum. I started forward, thinking I might have some luck inside, but stopped after realizing Lukas had fallen behind. When I turned, I saw him kneeling in front of a headstone several rows over.

“Sarah Scott,” I read out loud as I came up behind him. “Your mother?”

Lukas pulled away some of the overgrowth in silence, then ran his hand over the stone’s smooth surface.

Across the top, a thick vine with tiny white flowers spilled down the side and twined around the stone beside it. I bent down to pull them apart, but Lukas grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“No,” he said, nodding to the second stone. “Leave it. They’re finally together.”

I brushed a pile of leaves from the front of the second stone and bit back a gasp. “Simon Darker.” Under his name was his birth date and date of death—1845 to 1910—as well as a single sentence. One I was familiar with. It was the same thing Mom had printed on Grandpa’s headstone. “A bright light along the path that grows darker.”

Lukas climbed to his feet with a slight smile on his lips and pulled me up. “It gives me peace to see them together.”

“You’re saying Simon had a thing for your mom?”

Lukas nodded. “He loved her—and she him. It was just never meant to be.”

Never meant to be. More evidence that my family was destined for heartbreak. I didn’t understand how their rotting in the ground next to each other could be construed as peaceful. To me, it seemed depressing. But it made Lukas happy for some reason, so I refrained from my usual commentary.

I took a step back and turned back to the church. “Come on. There’s nothing here.”

“You’ve given up on the box?”

“Hell no. But this gave me another idea.”

“Oh?”

“Well, the box isn’t here—that much I’m sure of. And since neither of us knows what it looks like, much less where it could be—I suggest asking someone that might.”

“Who would possibly know where the box might be?”

“Simon Darker, of course.”

Chapter Twenty-three

By the time we got to Paulson’s, Lukas was excited about the idea of seeing Simon again. A little weirded out at first, he was worried Paulson would be summoning an actual corpse and not a spirit. Rotting flesh and smelly bone. The guy had a lot to learn.

On the way over we’d stopped by Zeets, the small family-owned candy store on the edge of The Pit, and bought a box of white chocolate-covered pecans. His Scooby Snack. Paulson would do just about anything for them, and I had a feeling he’d need buttering up.

Especially after what happened last time he did me a solid.

He opened the door wearing a huge grin. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I caught the scent of sandalwood and pine. “It’s been too long, Jessie girl.”

I returned the hug and pulled away. “Same.” Pulling Lukas closer, I said, “Paulson, this is my friend Lukas. He’s kinda why we stopped by.”

Paulson nodded in acknowledgment and eyed the box in my hands. “Are those what I think they are?”

I held out the chocolates. “Made this morning.”

He waved us inside and gestured to the sofa. Flipping open the lid, he popped one of the small candies into his mouth and sighed. If he didn’t finish them before we left, I’d be surprised. “Klaire don’t know you’re here, does she?”

“You automatically assume I’m doing something I shouldn’t be.” I pouted.

He said nothing but held up the chocolate and gave the box a slight shake.

“Okay, so I am, but still. Benefit of the doubt, please?”

“Let’s get something straight right off the bat—no promises. I got in a heap of trouble last time. Your mama didn’t speak to me for months.”

I nodded and held my right hand up. “It’s simple this time, I swear. I just need to talk to a relative of mine.”

“I assume you mean on your mama’s side,” he said dryly. Paulson was mom’s oldest friend. They’d known each other since grade school. He was the only of Mom’s friends who knew about Dad and my semi-human status. He’d never approved of Mom’s choice in men, but he’d stood by her regardless, sitting on the couch for hours as she cried herself to sleep in those first days after Dad made the decision to stop coming around. They didn’t know I knew—and I had no intention of telling them—but Paulson was as loyal as they came.

“Of course.”

“Do I get to ask why?”

“Will telling you it’s a long story get me off the hook?”

“I know you, Jessie. Saying you want me to summon a relative is specifically vague. Which one?”

“One that has a shared history with Lukas’ family. There’s an item—I need to ask him about it.”

“That sounds innocent enough.”

“Yep.”

Paulson narrowed his eyes and popped another chocolate into his mouth. “Which is exactly why it’s not. Fess up, Jessie girl. What’s the deal?”

I groaned. “Seriously. That’s all, I swear.”

“Then why don’t Klaire know you’re here?”

“She kinda asked me to stay out of this one.”

He set the chocolate down and jabbed a finger in my direction. Yep. The box was more than half empty already. I should have brought two. “And heaven forbid she knows what’s best?”

“Of course not. She’s just being over-protective. Like usual. I swear—it’s just a simple Q and A.”

“There’s no simple with you, kid.”

“Please,” I prodded, sticking out my bottom lip just a hair. The pretty please pout. Paulson had been a sucker for it since I was five.

For a second I was worried. I knew a few other necromancers, but none of them were what you could consider trustworthy. Paulson dragged it out a few more minutes, but when he rolled his eyes and folded his arms, I knew I had him.

Yeah. I was that good.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’m not leaving the room this time.”

I nodded, feeling a little bad. Mom was going to kill him for this. Last time I’d come to him for some secret help, fifteen people had been hurt, and I’d ended up with a broken arm.

Mom would find out this time, too. If I was right, Simon would have some important information to share. I’d just have to double up on the chocolate covered pecans next time and up the charm.

Paulson went to work gathering his supplies. Silky bags, small wooden boxes, and vials of oddly colored liquids. “You remember that movie you, me, and your mama went to see?”

I laughed. “Oh my God… What was it called? The Bone Whisperer, right?”

Paulson snorted. “All it takes is a sprinkle of some special dust, the right words, and a few old bones and you, too, can summon a spirit from the great beyond. What a load—”

“Mom wanted to kill you for talking through the entire thing. The rest of the people in the theater, too. I thought they were going to jump us in the parking lot.”

Paulson pulled aside an old area rug and drew a chalk circle in the middle of the room. “I was simply stating how fake the whole thing was. You’d think Hollywood would at least put a little research into it…”

I watched as he sprinkled some kind of bluish powder around the outside of the circle. He was setting up