on it, her hand flopped onto the stainless steel drain, sparkling and spotless, no sign of its purpose evident. Of course there wasn't-the point of having a concrete room with a drain was to wash away all the evidence.
I swallowed.
One of the men retrieved the gas can he'd left by the door and set it down on a lock of Hope's hair. The other woman held the matches, flipping them in her fingers, not nervous, just toying with them. I glanced at their faces, relaxed, unworried and unhurried, as if they were preparing the room for yet another dull but necessary business meeting.
I opened my mouth to stall them, but my mind and gaze stayed caught on Hope, on that gas can carelessly laid on her hair, on her graceful fingers and chewed nails stretched over that immaculate drain.
'You really can talk to the dead, can't you, Jaime?'
I jumped, startled, and looked at May. Her face was impassive, but her eyes were fever-bright. The eyes of a fanatic spotting proof of the divine.
The other woman harrumphed. 'She's a good actress, that's all. Just like the rest of them.'
'I don't think so. Someone-or something-led her to those bodies.'
In her voice was the longing I'd heard so often from the bereaved, those desperate to believe. In May, it was magnified a hundredfold.
'I can,' I said. 'I see them, hear them, speak to them.'
'May, don't let her-'
'You don't believe me? There's a ghost right next to you. A seventeen-year-old named Brendan, though you may not have bothered asking his name before you downsed him with gas and set him on fire. May, you picked him up at-' I glanced at Brendan, who told me the place and I relayed it. 'You tricked him into your car, you and Don-' Another look at Brendan, who pointed to a tall balding man with a cleft chin. I nodded to him. 'Over there.'
Expressions ranged from May's exultation to incredulity to grudging acceptance.
May smiled. 'You and I have a lot to talk about, Jaime.'
In other words, I'd just bought myself a temporary pass. I tried not to let my relief show.
'First, though…' May continued.
She waved to Don, who held the gas. He uncapped it and stepped over Hope's body.
'No!'
I leapt forward, but May grabbed my arm.
'Please don't make us restrain you, Jaime. You know we can't let her live. She knows-'
'But she's one of us. Magical.'
May shook her head. 'Don't-'
'She's a half-demon. That's what we call them. Demons take human form and impregnate women. The children look human, but they have special powers. The ability to control an element or improved senses or-'
'The X-Men.' The other woman rolled her eyes. 'I may be a bit old for that sort of thing, but I have teenage boys, Miss Vegas. Try something a little more original please.'
'It's not just elements and senses. Like Hope. She can pick up chaos, senses it and sees-'
May cut me off with a look. 'So you're telling me that sweet Hope Adams is really… a chaos demon?'
'Half-demon.'
'And your companion the other day? The one Eric Botnick swore had superhuman strength? I suppose he's one of these half-demons.'
'No. Werewolf.'
May cast a look at the group. I couldn't see it, but everyone laughed. Then she turned back to me, her hand still on my arm, squeezing gently.
'I understand why you're doing this, Jaime. You want to protect your friends. But-' The squeeze tightened. 'Please don't insult our intelligence.'
I opened my mouth to protest, but know I'd overplayed my hand… and I hadn't even been bluffing.
A smell filled the air. The slosh of liquid hitting concrete. I turned to see Don trickling gas over Hope.
I wrenched from May's grasp. May lifted a handful of gray powder and started to cast. I stopped.
'I'm sorry. I just- I just want to talk.'
'Tell more tales of demons and werewolves?' the other woman scoffed.
'Why not? Couldn't there be-?'
A quick look around told me I was losing my audience. I glanced down at Hope, her small form, her faded jeans freckled with splashed gasoline, more dripping from her fingers, into the drain…
'Why kill her like that? It's a horrible way to die.'
'The suffering enhances the potency,' May said, voice as cool as her eyes.
'No, it doesn't.'
Her face hardened, but she hid it behind a condescending smile. 'You may be able to talk to ghosts, but that doesn't make you an expert on magic.'
'Maybe, but I know people who can cast spells that make yours look like parlor tricks. Even for the rituals that need human sacrifice, it doesn't matter how you kill the person. It's the
I could see this wasn't getting me anywhere. 'Never mind. I know you don't believe me about Hope, but if you gave her time to wake up, she could demonstrate-'
'Not interested,' said the other woman-Tina, as Murray called her.
May shot Tina a look. Then she swung that look around the group. Judging their willingness to let Hope live a little longer, just to be sure there wasn't some truth to my preposterous tale. But their faces were hard. If she made the wrong decision, they'd see it as weakness-her hunger for magic overriding common sense. An unacceptable flaw to this bunch.
'No, Jaime,' she said finally. 'I know she's your friend-'
'She is. And if you kill my friend in front of me, exactly how will-ing do you think I'll be to teach you what I know? Show you how to contact the dead?'
'Don't threaten-'
'Tie her up and put her outside this room, as a show of faith. Then, in a return show of faith, I'll show you how to communicate with Brendan's ghost. When we're done, Hope will be awake. She'll show you her powers and, if she doesn't, you can…' I swallowed for dramatic effect, 'finish with her.'
Another look around the gathered faces. Tina's expression stayed resolute-gaze fixed on Hope as she toyed with the matches.
'Don?' May said.
'It sounds reasonable.'
The other men agreed. At a motion from May, they bound Hope's hands and feet, gagged her and carried her into the room beyond.
MIRACULOUS
WHEN THE MEN RETURNED a few minutes later, they closed the door all but a crack-presumably leaving it open so they could hear if Hope woke up.
Phase one accomplished.
Onto phase two.
'What you were saying earlier,' I began, 'about needing to kill them horribly. That really isn't necessary. But I suppose slipping a lethal drug in someone's drink wouldn't have the same effect for the group, would it?'
'What-?' May began.
'You're all in this together, right? You watch them die. You each play your part. Share the murder, share the horror and the guilt. A bond that's probably very hard to break. Must have made it really tough to convince them that Murray broke it, huh?'
May's gaze swung to mine.
