A Summoning of Souls. Leanna Renee Hieber

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СКАЧАТЬ Cora said. “It proves what all we can manage.”

      “Yes, it does, and I hope you feel appreciated, because we’ll need every strength and talent to counter a powerful adversary we can only take down with the utmost tact and discretion, by assembling all our pieces and proof. We’ll regroup tonight, as there’s more to learn and discuss.…” She trailed off, swallowing hard, fumbling for words and stalling the inevitable. “Thank you again for putting up with what hasn’t been my best week, in terms of my presence of mind, to put it generously.” Eve’s cheeks colored. “I…you know I can’t bear it when I lose my composure, so I’m sure you can imagine how mortified I am.…”

      You’re human too, Jenny signed, reaching out for a glass of water that was too far from her reach. Eve chuckled and brought it to her.

      “Don’t be hard on yourself,” Cora said. “You’ve held up impressively, and I know you’ve done so battling migraines the whole time.”

      “Yes, but you don’t know the latest…” Eve sighed. “I wandered out again, before dawn.… I came to at Sanctuary.”

      Cora exhaled. “Again?”

      “I wish it weren’t true. This time, Gran came after me. Clara Bishop too. She and her husband are coming to the house tonight to teach us about psychic shielding.”

      “Good. I want to know every possible trick,” Antonia said with scholarly relish. “A healthy psychic life is one with myriad weapons in one’s arsenal.”

      “They may bring wards of protection, too, so be prepared,” Eve instructed. “I don’t know what they’ll need of us, so just follow their leads. I’ve a lot to learn from them, and, considering they were never allowed over for dinner, I’m making up for lost time.”

      “Why were your parents so strict about not allowing them by?” Antonia asked. “I mean, I know from your parents’ trauma that they don’t entertain and certainly don’t enjoy the paranormal, but it’s not like that’s all anyone would talk about. Those of us who work in spectral realms don’t live it every moment of the day.”

      Eve sighed. “I know. It always baffled me, especially considering the Bishops are so close with Gran. But I think it was the Bishops drawing my father back into a supernatural investigation, when he’d promised to walk away from anything of the sort. That, in my mother’s eyes, must have been unforgivable.”

      “My parents won’t speak of that time either, with the former Eterna Commission,” Cora said, shaking her head. “Even Uncle Louis, when his ghost comes to visit and guide, he won’t talk about his death or anything surrounding it. I know how maddening it is, Eve, to be curious, and to have your questions rebuffed. Those who wish to no longer be haunted sure do create ghosts out of their own anxiousness.”

      Eve laughed hollowly. “I’m glad you understand how it is to deal with supernatural veterans of other wars. All the battle scars they refuse to acknowledge. Thank you.”

      “You should have Detective Horowitz come to tonight’s lesson.” Antonia rose to pin her long, dark hair into a top bun with hairpins from the dresser and smoothed the faint hints of rouge on her high cheekbones. “He needs to know any tactic we learn, and as you’ve said, he seems to be gaining a bit of his own sixth sense. Maybe just about you, but he’s intuitive.” At this, Eve cleared her throat. Antonia chuckled. “I’ll cook.”

      At this, Eve could see both Cora’s and Jenny’s shoulders relax at the offer. The team tried to share all tasks equally in rotation, but Eve didn’t have to be Sensitive to know they barely choked back what she herself made. Antonia was a sorceress in the kitchen with even the barest ingredients. As if her scholarship wasn’t enough; she excelled at the role of mothering them all.

      Eve looked to Cora, silently asking permission to invite the detective. Cora smiled. “He is part of our team now, Eve. And he is a very good man. However, do sort yourselves out; settle what’s unsettled because otherwise you’re a distracted disaster and that’s no good to us.”

      Called to account for her recent dramatics, Eve’s cheeks reddened. She swallowed and nodded. “My wise friends. Take your time and I’ll see you back at the house by dinner.” It was only morning and there was so much yet to do.

      Chapter Three

      Mulberry Street Police Headquarters in downtown Manhattan, south of the bustling theatre district and north of the teeming financial district, was a multistoried building situated beside an infamous part of town rife with vice that seemed unperturbed by the law as its neighbor. For so many years the two had existed hand in hand, until now-governor Roosevelt cleaned up the corruption within. There were still cracks in the foundation of the institution, but like everything in New York, it was going through growing pains.

      Showing her card at the front entryway, she had to hand over the new access document sent to all the girls by Roosevelt himself after they’d been targeted by threats.

      Sending their Ghost Precinct entirely underground, these cards demoted the girls to research and records but allowed them access to any police building in the city. Eve chafed but didn’t argue; having a secret job she was proud of was better than being erased from the books and taken off duty entirely. Even so, she still faced a frowning scowl from the patrol officer stationed at the door, as if her very presence in the building was suspect. She wanted her work to be welcomed as a way to ease the tension between the living and the dead, seeing ghosts as a “help, not a horror,” but the force would need to accept living women as colleagues first. One step at a time. But she didn’t feel patient about it, and she didn’t feel she should have to.

      Mulberry Street Headquarters’ interior was less grand than its façade, and it became more worn the further back from the main entrance one got. So, too, did it get more raucous, the walls less stately and the floors plainer.

      In the rear guts of the building were some small offices, converted storage rooms cleared out to house a growing but hesitant interest in new sciences, technologies, and manners of mental and physical study. Alienists were a new concept, studying the patterns and possible motivations of the human mind. The new process of fingerprinting was in the stumbling stages of becoming routine. Eve found the possibilities exciting and was glad when any department kept an open mind.

      No one was more sensible about all methods and practice than the man whose office sat before her at the end of the hall, his door open.

      Eve stared at Detective Jacob Horowitz, framed in the open doorway of his dimly lit room with its well-worn furniture and stacks of collected case material: papers, bound notebooks and the occasional item from a crime scene that the evidence room seemed to have forgotten but he never did.

      He wore a finely tailored black frock coat, dark blue waistcoat, and crisp white neckwear tied in a loose knot. Not required to wear the uniform of a patrol officer on a beat, he dressed in elegant simplicity, a gentleman conducting interviews and professional business who could seamlessly disappear into a crowd from one clue to the next. To Eve, though, he would always stand out.

      He looked up. His dark eyes, ringed in striking slivers of blue, suddenly lit. His frown of concentration vanished, his sharp-featured face shifting into a devastatingly handsome expression of delight. His smile nearly lifted Eve off the ground. The growing fire in his gaze at the sight of her made her toes curl in her boots.

      They had become something that could no longer be ignored. Steady sparks struck between them had caught. They were now a conflagration.

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