She grunts. “Tony certainly changed you.” Her gaze slides down her nose with all the no-nonsense attitude of Judge Judy. “And then he hurt you. He’s still hurting you.”
I spoon in another bite of oatmeal to distract myself from a storm of conflicting emotions. Tony. My mind wanders to last night, flashes of my interaction with the advocate coming back to me. He said he'dfree mefrom Tony. What exactly does that mean? His serious-as-hell tone sounded almost... nefarious. But Maeve is a lawyer; she wouldn’t send an advocate who would do anything illegal, right?
I chew my lip. Can I be blamed for being too overwhelmed at summoning a freaking shadow monster to ask for specifics?
Grams’s spoon clangs against her bowl. Pain has crept into her bony body like a demon whose exorcism didn’t take. I pop out of my chair and snatch her meds off the counter. Only one pain pill left. She’s been taking more lately.
“What time does the nurse come today?” I bring the pill to the table and help her take it.
“Any minute now. She’ll refill those. Can’t give me too many at once. Wouldn’t want me to become addicted.” She rolls her eyes.
“When she gets here, do you think you’ll be okay if I go into Richmond to discuss something with Maeve?”
“As long as it doesn’t involve you drinking another bottle of wine and sleeping naked in the parlor.”
I slant a wry grin. “You said you enjoyed the days when I had no inhibitions.”
A laugh rocks her body and she braces herself against the pain. “Oh, Eloise, I love having you home. Yes, I’ll be fine.”
I stay with her until the nurse arrives.
5
The Fine Print
ELOISE
Friendship is a funny thing. Two people choose to care about each other for no other reason than a spontaneous, unexplainable bond. I met Maeve on the first day of high school during my freshman year. Some girls decided they didn't like her style. After calling her a witch didn't get under her skin, they cornered her in the locker room, and things turned dark. When I saw what was about to happen, I walked right up to the head-bitch responsible and punched her face. As expected, little miss mean girl could dish it out but couldn't take it.
Maeve and I have been friends ever since.
Over the years, I've learned to love her unique qualities. Maeve’s always been strange: the way she dresses like every day is a funeral, the tattoos, how she likes to stroll through old cemeteries and trace the engravings on worn tombstones. Once, after she experienced a particularly tough breakup, our college dorm was thrashed by thunderstormsfor almost forty-eight hours straight. It seemed like a truly awful coincidence at the time. Now, as I sit in her waiting room with an enchanted candle in a box on my lap, I wonder if I know my best friend at all.
An elderly woman with bright red glasses stops in front of me and, in a smoke-stained voice, whispers, “Ms. Gowdie will see you now.”
I get the distinct impression she’s trying to keep the other people in the waiting room from hearing. Some of them fidget as if they've been there a long time. I don't even have an appointment. I immediately feel guilty for barging in and vow to keep this short. With a quick nod, I gather the box containing the candle and its accoutrements into my arms and hurry into Maeve's office.
“You didn't have to bring that back right away,” Maeve says, the second she notices the box in my hands. Her gaze lifts to my face, and she frowns. “What's wrong?”
I don't bother to sit down. “I'll make this quick.” I give her the cliff notes version of what I remember about the night before. “So… the advocate is a… what exactly? He didn’t like it when I suggested he was a vampire, but the descriptor seems apt.”
“Uh… sort of.” Maeve squints at me through her glasses, resting her elbows on her desk. “You might say he’s a special kind of vampire.”
“There are different kinds?” I mumble incredulously, then hold up a hand. “You know what? Never mind. Based on the look of your waiting room, I sense you only have a few minutes, and I don't want to waste them talking about vampire varietals. But, um, I remember him biting me, only, there's nothing on my neck.” I run my fingers along the smooth skin coveringmy jugular.
Maeve waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, the advocate’s saliva can close and heal wounds. He likely licked it away while you were asleep. Anyway, the spell worked. You have a deal. Your problem will be solved tonight. Make sure you’re out in public when it happens, preferably somewhere with a record of your attendance.”
I shift uneasily, gripping the box to my midsection. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I lower my voice to a whisper. “When what, exactly, happens?”
Maeve digs in her drawer for a red lipstick and starts to touch up her makeup using a small gold compact before answering me. “When the advocate kills Tony, of course.”
All the air leaves my lungs, and I have to suck in another breath to grit out, “You're kidding, right?”
She smooths a hand through the air as if to comfort me. “Don't worry. He'll make it look like an accident. He's very good.”
My jaw drops, and my entire body goes cold. “You told me he was an advocate who was going to help save my house! I didn't think I was taking out a supernatural hit on my husband.”
“Stop calling him your husband. Tony is an abusive creep who has ties to some very dark people.” She narrows her eyes at me and flips a hand over in my direction. “How did you think the advocate would solve the problem, if not by killing Tony?”
