And then, beneath it—emanating out from somewhere far lower and much darker—there came the sound of real drums. Slow. Steady. Anticipatory. The percussion pulsed through the stone, shuddered the floor underfoot. And then, far up in the cathedral’s towering spire, the bells began to ring. A cold, clarion call that beckoned her out.
“Let me come with you,” said Thomas, when they’d pulled apart.
You can’t, she signed.I’m going where you can’t follow.
His smile was grim. “Don’t underestimate me.”
At the door, she wavered on the threshold, fear rendering her motionless. When she peered back at Thomas, she found him unmoved, the look in his eyes enough to snap her resolve in two.
Will you do something for me?she asked.
“Anything.”
If this goes wrong, promise me you won’t let them put me back in the ground.
Thomas could feel the percussive roll in the soles of his feet, slow as thunder. He stood in the center of the tiny reconciliation room, staring down at his hands where—minutes ago—he’d let Vivienne Farrow slip through his grasp like water. The chime of the bell still reverberated between his ears, setting his teeth on edge. He didn’t know how long he stood there, frozen. Defeated.
One minute? Ten?
A sound at the door brought his head up. Jesse Grayson stood in the hall, his hair shoved beneath a surgical cap and his scrubs freshly pressed. His mouth thinned at the sight of Thomas.
“She promised me you wouldn’t be here,” he said, reaching for a box on a nearby table.
“I go where she goes,” said Thomas. “What’s in the box?”
“Nothing good.”
The box was cardboard. Thin. Barely large enough for a pair of shoes. Jesse cradled it with caution, as though it contained a biohazard. “Look, I’m going to do you a favor. It’s going to take me a while to finish setting up down there. You should leave while you can.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“I’m saving your life,” said Jesse. “There’s an audience for this—did you know that? A handful of lucky pledges who think they’re about to witness an exorcism in real time. It’s the kind of thing they fantasize about.”
“What’s your point?”
“I don’t know how familiar you are with Vivienne’s altered state. It manifests primarily in reflective surfaces. Mirrors. Glass.”
“I knew that,” Thomas said, though he hadn’t. More pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. He pictured Vivienne’s vanity, the mirror shattered. The way she’d driven him out of her bathroom in a tearful fit. He’d sat outside her bedroom door all night, listening to her weep.
“Yeah, well, it’s gone,” said Jesse. “Since we arrived to the church, it’s been missing.”
“What do you mean, missing?”
“What do youthinkI mean? She doesn’t have a reflection, genius. When she looks in the mirror, there’s nothing there.”
“How is that possible?”
“I can’t say for sure. Believe it or not, they don’t exactly cover this topic in medical school. But if I had to guess? It’s hunting.”
His words were a stone dropped into a lake. They sank slowly between them.
“We’re fish in a barrel,” said Jesse. “And we’re all going to die. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t catch me within a mile of that ambulatory.”
“Wait, back up,” said Thomas. “You don’t want to do this?”
“What, perform a highly illegal, completely unproven surgical procedure on something that has the power to strike me dead the second I get too close?” Jesse’s laugh was bitter. “Hell no, man. I don’t want to do this. Did Vivienne tell you it was my idea?”
“She didn’t tell me anything, actually,” Thomas admitted.
