Jude was oddly quiet as we walked to our cars.
“Do you know anyone with that description? Accent, female, red nail polish?” I decided to be the one to break the tension that had settled over us. Whether he was a jerk before or not, we needed to work together.
“My performers are from Louisiana, but I do not believe it was one of them. None of them would jeopardize what they have.”
He seemed torn, but we couldn’t rule them out as a suspect. I needed to talk to Echo, tell her what I learned, and see if she could scent out anything extraordinary in the theater. Maybe Draco would have heard something, too. He knew all the people with gifts in the past, up until fifty years ago when he gave up on his purpose to be the leader of the heroes.
“I think there is more to this story.” I meant both with these murders and with him.
“Wanna grab a cup of coffee? I don’t feel like going back to the mansion yet.” He stopped walking. He looked troubled and tired.
“Tea. I’ll join you for tea. I don’t drink coffee.” There was an open 24/7 breakfast place around the corner and the only place besides a bar open at 11:15 p.m. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with lots of people right now.
“OK. Waffle Diner?” He guessed my thoughts and I nodded. Maybe he wasn’t in the mood for lots of people either.
“So, you control the dead.” I tucked my hands into my sweater pockets. It was getting cooler now that we were in October. Fall was here, and the leaves were beginning to turn to bright oranges, reds, and yellows.
“I do.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, too, and we walked toward the diner together.
“Very powerful gift.”
“Yeah. Powerful, and comes with a price.” He offered the bait, and with the little smirk I saw growing on his lips, he knew he set the perfect trap for me.
“All right, I forgive you for being an ass. Now tell me all about the mysterious Jude Mallory, ringleader of a ghost circus and occupant of a haunted mansion with a giant cemetery in the back.” I couldn’t help but giggle at the long title I’d just given him, and when he let out a little laugh, I knew the tension he’d brought between us earlier was gone. He was a jerk, but he was hurting and lashed out. Been there, done that, and it was worth giving him a second chance.
“It’s a long story.”
I think he was giving me an out just in case I really didn’t want to hear this long tale of his, but I wasn’t budging. I didn’t get much sleep these days, anyway. I kept having that feeling like something was gonna happen or like I forgot something I was supposed to do. The nagging sense was hard to push away to rest peacefully.
“Good thing you’re getting some coffee and I’m getting some tea.”
We made it to the diner and were seated in a booth toward the back. There weren’t many people here, yet. But I knew around 2:00 a.m. this place would get busier once the bars closed. We placed our order and waited for our drinks. Once the waitress set them in front of us, I settled into my booth cushion while sipping my tea.
“Storytime,” I sang softly, hoping it would ease whatever nervous tension troubled him.
“This isn’t going to be published in the paper, right?” His blue eyes narrowed and I shook my head.
“No, this is just between me and you. If it makes you feel any better, I can go into my morbid details, too. Exchange of information.” I wasn’t ashamed of my past, and what I’d done. I was going insane from not using my powers. I was just grateful to still be here, even on those bad days when I thought I couldn’t breathe.
“What’s your favorite flower?” he asked randomly.
“Daffodils.”
“Interesting choice. I would have taken you for a roses girl.” He sipped his coffee, then grimaced. His hand shot out for the packets of sugar and poured them in, along with some creamer. He must like his coffee sweet.
“Daffodils are a symbol of new beginnings, and I am a fan of that.” My hands curled around the teacup, warming my skin as I waited for Jude to speak about his life story.
“You know that most superpowers are passed down through family lineage, right?”
“Yes. I know the backstory after the Hero Society spread the knowledge around.”
No one in my family had what I had, which wasn’t uncommon amongst people with gifts. Sometimes the godly gene traveled through families and sometimes it waited for the right person.
“My particular gifts are strictly passed on from father to son. My family has been in charge of keeping the dead where they belong, in their afterlife. They aren’t allowed to speak with mortals or touch them if they stayed instead of passing on. My family keeps that balance. It used to be just a job the family did. When one man died of old age, his son would take his place. But then my great-great-grandfather fucked up.” He sipped some more coffee and looked out the window to the dimmed city. He peered past the glass into some painful memory.
“He refused to do his job of protecting mankind. The dead rose from their graves. Ghosts ran amuck, hurting people. The power inside him revolted and cursed my family.”
I didn’t know how to react. “How do you know you’re cursed, and what exactly is the curse?” I wanted to ferret out more answers before calling him crazy and leaving.
