A few weeks ago, I’d have been so jealous I wouldn’t have been able to see straight, but now that she’d chosen us all and we’d claimed her as ours, all I felt was a sense of calm. She looked at him the same way she looked at me.
“So you’re suggesting we focus on something related to the plague?” Sin asked.
“Yes. But specifically The Black Death. It was arguably the worst of the pandemics as pertains to this particular virus.”
“Okay, but how do we make germs into a weapon?” Kingston asked, eyes bouncing between my son and me. “The whole point is that all those people are dead. Does that mean we’re looking for bones again? Or is this a biological warfare kind of situation?” He stopped and made a face. “That can’t be it. She’d be immune, right?”
“Correct. She can’t be harmed by a virus of any kind. But I wonder if a weapon forged from the earth where the victims were buried would suffice. If I’m right, we will know it when we find it.”
Grim nodded. “When we arrived at Notre Dame, my weapon reacted to my presence before I ever saw it.”
“Same for me,” Chaos said. “I’m confident you’ll know right away whether your hunch is correct.”
“Are any of those gravesites still accessible?” Asher inquired.
“There is a series of catacombs in Edinburgh that were used to store bodies. I know of several that will be mostly untouched. They should have everything we require.”
“Ah, my old stomping ground,” Pan said with a large smile.
“Care to accompany me?” I asked, hope swelling in my chest at the prospect of time spent with my son.
“I do feel uniquely suited to assist with this one,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Rosie asked with a hint of worry. “You were badly hurt last time.”
“Twas but a flesh wound. And I doubt we'll come across any giant spiders this time.” He looked to me for confirmation.
“I don’t imagine we’ll run into significant danger of any kind where we’re going.”
“See?”
Rosie bit her lip but nodded. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“We will accompany him to make sure,” Lilith offered. “He is my nephew, after all.”
Crombie let out an exasperated sigh. “Ugh. But let’s be quick about it. It’s such a dreary place.”
Kai responded with something between a snarl and a growl. “That’s my home you’re talking about.”
“And? Two things can be true.”
“I think it’s beautiful,” Dahlia said, a dreamy look in her eyes. “The misty air, the beautiful landscape...”
“The cries ofgarde loobefore the people empty their chamber pots into the street,” Pan inserted.
“They don’t do that anymore.”
“They should.”
“It’s technically still an active law,” Asher offered.
“How the hell do you know that?” Kingston asked.
“It’s called The Nastiness Act of 1749. Just one of those weird facts I thought was interesting. It’s also long believed to be the origin of the term shit-faced, from all the drunks who got dumped on when leaving the pubs at closing time.”
“Ew,” Dahlia said with a grimace.
