Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet Page 30

I looked to where they’d led Quentin. “So, Quentin is clairvoyant?”

“Yes. Quite.”

“Cool, but what does that have to do with me? Doesn’t clairvoyance mean you can see into the future?”

“Not necessarily. It encompasses all persons with clear vision. Those who can see into the spiritual realm. Some people are born with the ability. Some come by it through other means, like near-death experiences.”

I thought of Pari. She could see ghosts ever since she’d had a near-death experience as a child. “But, why target them? What do they have to gain?”

“Because they can often see auras.”

“Okay,” I said, still not catching on.

“And if they can see auras”—she put a hand on my arm—“they can see you.”

I did a mental slap to the head. Sometimes I was so thick. “Of course. That explains why they chose Quentin. He can see the light around me.”

I’d have to check in on Pari, make sure she hadn’t been possessed since I saw her last.

“That’s how they can track you. And according to the latest conversations, the demons are closing in. That’s why they sent you a guardian. Why they sent you Artemis. They knew this was going to happen.”

Damn. I figured there had to be some ghastly reason full of gloom and doom. Artemis couldn’t have just been a belated housewarming gift. “Can they hurt her?” I asked, suddenly concerned. “Can the demons hurt Artemis?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard.” She cleared her throat and took my cup. “Would you like some more tea?”

“Sure, thank you,” I said absently.

The mother superior walked back in and sat down as Sister Mary Elizabeth gathered our cups and stood to make more tea.

She planted her best disdainful expression on me.

I smiled. Inspected the craftsmanship of the cabinetry. Thrummed my fingers on the table. Checked my watch. Or checked my wrist where a watch would have been had I not forgotten it.

“You know,” she said after a long moment of reflection, “it took me a long time to—” She struggled to find the right words. “—to believe in Sister Mary Elizabeth’s abilities.”

Oh, cool. This wasn’t going to be about me and my shoe box full of sins. Because we could be here awhile if that were the case. “I understand,” I said, trying to be understanding. “It takes people a long time to believe in mine, too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Actually, there is. She was sent to us by God, and I questioned it. I questioned his gift. That is something I’ll have to answer for when the time comes.”

That seemed kind of harsh. “I don’t think using logic and human instinct is a sin.”

Her smile was more congenial than affirming. “From what she has told us, there is a great and terrible war on the horizon.”

“That’s right,” Sister Mary Elizabeth said, nodding in enthusiastic confirmation as she sat back down, handing me a fresh cup of tea. “And it will be brought forth by an impostor.”

“An impostor?” I asked.

The mother superior placed a hand on Sister Mary Elizabeth’s arm to stay her.

“No way,” I said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “You have information that I could use, and you won’t hand it over?”

“It is not our place,” the mother superior said. “This information is sacred. It was given to us so that we may pray.”

“I can pray,” I said, insulted. “Just tell me what to pray about. I’ll totally put it on my to-do list.”

The woman’s iron demeanor relaxed a little as a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth. “Prayer must be lived, not checked off a laundry list of duties.”

Crap. She was right. “But we’re talking about my life here.”

“And the lives and salvation of everyone on Earth. You are destined to play a part. You simply must decide which part to play.”

“Riddles?” I asked, unimpressed. “You’re giving me riddles?”

Sister Mary Elizabeth’s eyes were wide with innocent ardency as she watched our exchange. She looked like a kid watching her favorite Saturday-morning cartoon.

Fine, they were keeping the good stuff to themselves. “Can you at least tell me what I’m capable of?”

The sister’s mouth spread wide. “Anything you can imagine.”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying not to be disappointed. “I can imagine a lot.”

The mother superior patted her protégée’s arm. “Time for bed,” she said, her voice maternal, caring.

That was my cue to leave. They promised to keep an eye on Quentin until it was safe for him to venture out, but they knew more than I did. I tried not to feel resentful. Not hard, but I did give it an ounce of effort before I gave up and resented the heck out of the entire human race. Not sure why. Fortunately, I was over that by the time I got to Misery, dripping wet, as it had started to rain again.

I called Cookie. She knew where I’d gone and would be frantic with worry. Or driven to the brink of insanity with lust. Reyes did that to her. He probably did that to a lot of girls.

“Well?” she asked when she picked up.

“Do you think we’re really alone in the universe?”

“Were you abducted by aliens again?”

“No, thank goodness. Once was enough for me.”

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