“Can we not do this now?” I hissed. “I’m kind of busy.”
Ian shrugged. “Oh, sure. See you later.” He started to walk toward the door as if he needed to open it in order to leave.
“Wait. What about Melody?” I asked.
Ian stopped. “Oh, right, almost forgot.” He dug into the pocket of his skintight jeans. “I ran into her on my way here. She sends her regards.”
“Ian…”
“Deep breath, Griffin. She also sent this. Said you’d recognize it.”
Ian pulled my hand up and deposited a tarot card onto my palm. It was judgment, the tarot card Willow had drawn for me in the woods.
I stared at it, wondering how it had survived being crammed into Ian’s overtight pocket intact.
It was hard to know what to trust. Still, I leaned over, pressed the button, and said, “It’s the judgment card. The card of new beginnings,” I said.
For a minute, there was silence. Then a crackle, and then Madeline Fisher. “We like to give our candidates some amount of latitude to show their individuality. For the final test, we’d like you to call upon any spirit you choose, to deliver any message it would like to send. And we’d like to remind you that this is the most crucial area of our testing.”
I nodded at the speaker. I’d seen ghosts all of my life; but I’d always had a problem with supply and demand. Ghosts spoke to me when they wanted to, not necessarily when I needed to begin the conversation. Hence Grandmother’s serum. Even thinking about it made my arm itch. Still, for better or worse, I had to do this straight.
“Tell them you can summon me,” Ian said.
I looked around the empty room and wondered if I was hallucinating and should just make something up. No, this is the Guild, and corrupt or not, they’d recognize a sham.
I looked up at the ceiling tiles and started counting the pinprick-sized holes to quiet my mind.
From the corner, Ian’s voice said, “There are four thousand two hundred eighty-four. Now tell them we’re in touch.”
I didn’t want to. I wanted to do this one thing without Ian Mackenzie even as I realized he was my salvation.
“You have all the time in the world to impress them with your finesse, Griffin. But if you don’t give them something big now, none of that will matter.”
I stared at the space where Ian should have been. He was easier to deal with when he was being an arrogant shit. This was the Ian who got under my skin, the one Dec had never seen, the one I’d never quite been able to break free from. We were on some emotional teeter-totter, even now that Ian was dead, and I was never sure if I was the one with my feet on the ground or the one dangling up in the air.
The Guild’s speaker crackled.
“Damn it, Russ.” In my ear, Ian’s voice took on an urgency I wasn’t sure I’d heard in it before. “Don’t make me possess you again. Do it.”
I hit the button. Leaned my head back until it hit the top of the chair, felt for the owl at my wrist, tracing the outline although I couldn’t see it through the heavy cloth of my jacket, and between clenched teeth, said, “I’ve been in touch with Ian Mackenzie. He… I thought you might want to know.”
There was a heavy silence, though I knew the speaker connection was open and that the testing committee had heard what I’d said. There was a pause, and then I heard the connection click off. I was alone.
* * *
“Please,” Clive Rice said, pointing to a dark hallway. “Come join me.”
I followed him to a room filled with plush carpet, gold lamps, and deep sofas. There was certainly no sign of St. Hilaire’s financial troubles here.
It wasn’t until Clive Rice had closed the door behind us that he said, “Good job, Mr. Griffin. Good job.”
“Thank you,” I said as I took a seat next to the crackling fire and pulled at my collar. The warmth was nice, but it made the suit jacket even itchier.
Rice tapped on the face of his watch. “Infernal thing, never works when I need it to. Be that as it may, I’m going to get to the point, if you don’t mind.”
My pulse raced.
Rice said, “For better or worse, it has not, in the past, been the way of the Guild to oversee the personal lives of its members. But there has been some talk that you had a certain ‘relationship’ with Ian Mackenzie, did you not?”
Fire rose to my cheeks. I rubbed my wrist, wishing I could make myself disappear. “We knew each other,” I admitted. St. Hilaire was a small town. Ian had been a large personality. He’d always made sure to stand out in a crowd. Perhaps it had been too much to hope Ian had been discreet about this one thing.
“Yes, well.” Rice cleared his throat. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we’ve been trying to contact him for some months with no success. It comes as a bit of a pleasant surprise to hear that you’ve managed to entice him into speaking with you.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rice poured himself a drink but didn’t offer me anything. The ice clinked against the crystal as he tilted the glass back and forth. “I’m going to be straight with you, Mr. Griffin. I get the impression you are someone who might value the truth?”
How was it possible that Rice didn’t choke on the word? Allowing Dec’s parents to die made him a hypocrite of the worst sort.
When I didn’t reply, Rice continued, “Ian Mackenzie’s younger brothers are not nearly as accomplished as you. And some of our members thought, well, that you might have had contact with him. On the other plane,” he said to clarify. “But, frankly…”
I clenched my fists, jolting at the pain.
Hold it together, Ian whispered in my ear. I was impressed that he was strong enough as a ghost to keep the president of the Guild from seeing him.
“Well, that wasn’t why we called you in to audition, it certainly aids in your case,” Rice continued.
“Well, sir, as you know, I’d very much like to work with the Guild.” I hated how much I sounded like a suck-up. “I mean, I’d like to carry on my grandmother’s work.”
“Your grandmother? Of course, of course,” said Rice, jotting down some notes. “But we will, of course, have to speak to Mr. Mackenzie to verify your claim. First, though, we’d like to have a look at his car. My understanding is that it is currently in your custody?”
Don’t, Ian hissed.
There was no time to deliberate. I either had to trust Ian or not.
“My father is doing some work on it, sir. I’ll have to ask him when it will be done,” I said, holding Clive Rice’s gaze until the man looked away.