“Oh. Goodness. I never thought about that.” She looked at Eddie. “What do you usually do about that?”
“We have ways,” he said. “I’ll tell you about them later.” He looked to Eric. “Can you take care of it? And maybe get an urn, so that Rita can spread her cousin’s remains. Nancy was a good woman. She didn’t deserve to have one of those beasties in her.”
“I can,” Eric said. “I will.”
“Can they get into anybody?” Rita asked.
Eddie screwed up his mouth, like he didn’t want to tell her the hard truth. “Theoretically, yeah, if they try hard enough. But there’s only a short window after death for them to come in. The faithful, their souls tend to fight hard to protect their bodies long enough for the window to close. But those without faith…”
Rita nodded slowly. “Well, that’s it then. Nancy was a lovely woman, but she didn’t believe in anything. My goodness, she didn’t even really believe in herself. Sweet and helpful, but she never really saw beyond the moment, you know?”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, reaching over to squeeze her hand, his expression more tender than I’d ever seen on him. “I know.”
Rita’s smile lit the room, and I glanced at Eric, only to find that same expression on his face. And he was looking right at me.
* * *
As Cutter led the kids back to the training room—all talking among themselves about The Incredibly Exciting Drama they’d just witnessed—I tugged Eric to the side. “I was here in Stuart’s room right before this happened,” I said. “He squeezed my hand again. He talked again.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” I snapped.
“Sorry. I know you are. What did he say?”
“It was nonsense. At least I think it was. But he seemed earnest. Like he was trying to find the right word.”
“Kate. What did he say?”
“He saidcat,and then he saiddog,and then he saidrat, like he’d just found the right word. Like he had to force it out. He’s in there, Eric, but he can’t get out. And he’s trying to tell me something.”
“You may be right.”
“But why on earth would he be desperate to tell me about a rat?”
“I have no idea. Rats can be symbolic, and not always for the bad. Wisdom, tenacity, survival.”
“Maybe that’s it. He wants us to know he survived. That he’s in there.”
“Maybe.” He sounded dubious.
“Well, if not that, then what?”
“Honestly, Kate, I don’t know. How can I know?”
I threw up my hands. “Because that’s your job,” I said, the pitch of my voice rising even as more tears filled my eyes. “To know things.”
“Katie, oh, Katie.” He pulled me to him, then held me close, his hand lightly stroking my back.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, relishing his comfort even though I knew I shouldn’t be. In these last months, I’d been relying on Eric’s strength. And, I feared, I’d let him get closer than he should. No, notlet.I’d wanted him. Needed him. And we’d fallen back into familiar patterns even though I knew I shouldn’t. I was married. My husband was alive. Maybe even more alive than we’d believed. And yet I’d wanted it. Eric’s familiar comfort and his unwavering strength.
No.
I pulled myself free, then glanced down at the floor. “Sorry. Everything’s just coming at me from all sides, and I don’t have answers about anything.”
“I know. Tell me more.”
I drew a breath and forced myself to focus. “He seemed to struggle to get the word out. And now Nancy tried to kill him. So I’m thinking the demons want to keep him silent. That somehow, they’re strangling his voice. Or trying to.”
