has been destroyed, they’ll kill her, and we want them to plan another attempt to resurrect him. So, I know this is hard with you and Brodie being cops—”
Brodie broke in then. “Mark’s right. We’re not going to break into the tomb.”
“But we have to!” Alessande insisted.
“No, we don’t,” Mark said.
He stepped aside, and she saw that he was not alone. Charlaine Hildegard was standing in the hallway of Castle House right behind Mark and Brodie.
Charlaine smiled at her. “We have an order of exhumation,” she explained quietly. “My cousin Alan has signed it as legal next of kin. We’re still going in secret, and it will take some effort to keep anyone from finding out what we’ve done, but at least no one has to break in.”
“Oh,” Alessande said.
She turned and realized that the others were standing behind her, staring at Mark, Brodie and Charlaine in as much shock as she was.
Distrust was heavy in the air.
“Whether you want to believe me or not,” Charlaine said, “I’m facilitating something you want to happen. We’ll still be entering in darkness to keep anyone from knowing what we’re doing.”
“But
“I don’t know what to say or do to make you believe I’m on your side,” Charlaine said.
“I do,” Mark said, and reached into his jacket pocket to produce a book. “Sebastian’s diary, which Charlaine gave me of her own free will. It may even tell us a way to end this.”
“Darkness has fallen,” Brodie said. “We need to get going.”
* * *
Alessande had to admit, Charlaine had made a complete turnaround. She wasn’t smiling, flirting or touching anyone—especially Mark. Still...
They took two cars. Declan had provided the van he used for hauling things to and from the Snake Pit— perfect for taking the body from the cemetery. For their second vehicle they used Mick’s new car, a Honda Odyssey that could seat eight.
The cemetery was empty. A large pair of bolt cutters took care of the lock on the gate, and they kept the headlights off as they drove up to the tomb to avoid being seen.
Charlaine had the keys to the tomb—which made Alessande wonder how the crowd had gotten in the night she had nearly been sacrificed. But no sooner had she decided to wait on that question until they’d finished for the night than Charlaine said, “Jimmy must have gotten hold of the keys that night—it would have been easy enough for him. They’re kept on a hook by the kitchen door.” She paused. “Participating in the cult would have given him access to Others and the drug, in whatever order it occurred.” She looked directly at Alessande. “And not through the Hildegards.”
So much for that bit of intrigue.
The women stood guard outside and watched through the iron gate serving as a door while the men went in. Brodie and Mark worked at chiseling off the massive slab of marble with the effigy of Sebastian, and finally they succeeded then lifted the weighty lid.
“Careful,” Brodie cautioned.
“Absolutely,” Mark agreed. “If we smash it to smithereens, this whole mission is doomed.”
While they struggled to set it down, Mick and Declan used the crowbar on the old coffin lid, which gave easily in comparison.
A puff of fetid air escaped, and then they were looking at the remains of Sebastian Hildegard.
Charlaine walked over and gazed into the casket. “Interesting. I would have thought he’d be perfectly preserved.”
Abandoning the door, Alessande and the three cousins joined her in staring at the remains.
Sebastian Hildegard’s skin had turned dark and leathery, and he looked almost mummified.
Alessande glanced from the corpse to the effigy. It was impossible to tell if they were one and the same.
“The suit...the suit is definitely custom-tailored—just as all his were,” Charlaine said.
“How do we know it’s really him?” Alessande asked suspiciously.
Brodie and Mark had set down the massive slab of marble and came over to see the corpse, as well.
“We’ve come this far. Let’s get him into the van,” Mark said.
Alessande still didn’t feel right about things. But she supposed that because his followers all thought he could come back to life, she—like Charlaine—had thought he would be perfectly preserved, as if he’d been laid to rest days ago, instead of decades.
She backed away as Mark leaned forward and lifted the corpse. It was stiff. Dust fell as he shifted the body, and an odor of decay swept through the tomb.
Mark handed the body off to Declan, who took it outside. Alessande and the Gryffalds closed the coffin, and then Mark and Brodie lifted the giant marble slab back into place.
When they were done, Rhiannon surveyed the area. “We’ve done it. It looks as if no one has been here.”
“Then let’s go. We’re taking him to the Borden Mortuary,” Mark said. “We’ve got another—” he paused, looking at his watch “—five hours, then people will start arriving for work.”
“The Borden Mortuary?” Alessande asked.
“It’s owned by Hugh Drummond’s family,” Mark explained quickly.
“The werewolf who owns the Mystic Cafe,” Rhiannon said.
“I know, I know,” Alessande said. “Let’s just get there.”
Charlaine saw to it that the mausoleum was locked and secure, and then they piled into the cars. Alessande rode with Declan, Sailor, Mark and the corpse. She tried not to look at it. Tried not to imagine that it was going to come to life behind her, reach over the seat and place dead, decaying fingers around her throat.
The corpse didn’t move.
They reached the mortuary and pulled around back. Declan had barely parked before he’d exited the van and rushed around to open the rear doors to reach for the corpse. Brodie, who had the keys to the business, opened the entrance that led directly into the morticians’ prep room. By then the others had arrived and Mick hurried forward to the massive incinerator.
Alessande tried not to look around, but she couldn’t help sneaking a peek.
An elderly woman, freshly made-up, waiting only for her hair to be completed, lay on one of the preparation tables. Another held an older man.
A third held the body of a young male who had apparently been killed in a terrible accident; the morticians were working to restore his face. This being Hollywood, they knew the secrets of special effects makeup and had it almost resembling what it may have been.
She felt chilled. With Others owning the place, anyone could work here.
Including shapeshifters.
She kept imagining that one of the corpses would spring from its preparation table and attack them. Maybe all three.
The rest of their group didn’t seem to be bothered by any such thoughts. The crematory temperature was raised, and the body of Sebastian Hildegard was set on the slide and sent into the fire.
The door was closed and locked. The flames burned high.
“It’s hot enough, right?” Barrie asked.
Mark checked the gauge. “Optimum,” he said. “Eighteen-hundred degrees.”
“How long?” Alessande heard herself ask. She was grateful that her voice didn’t quiver.
“Two and a half hours,” Brodie answered. “A long time to sit here among the dead. A few of us could head on out.”
“If the opportunity’s up for grabs,” Rhiannon said, “I’ve been working long hours all over town and I’d love to get home.”
“I should get back, too,” Charlaine said. “I would just as soon not be spotted coming home in the wee hours by one of the household staff.”
