The Spectral City. Leanna Renee Hieber

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      Chapter Two

      Eve began taking her leave from the club, begging forgiveness; saying that she’d received an important lead on a brand new missing person case. She didn’t say it was one of her own. She managed a few words of appreciation to Roosevelt and to those who had facilitated her offices; the men who had been particularly unobtrusive and taken the information she gave without snide commentary. They deserved particular thanks. She pressed the Bishops’ hands in hers, quietly thanking them for being gifted Sensitives who had paved the way for her. They quietly smiled, and Eve could sense how much more Clara wished to say, but didn’t. Those who kept rolling their eyes in her direction she pointedly ignored.

      A glance back at Horowitz proved to Eve that he’d been staring at her as she gathered her things; a drawstring bag and a light wool evening cloak. Catching his eye, she could see him attempting to discern the cause of her departure. His look seemed to ask if she was all right. With a shrug, she turned away, a wresting sensation in her stomach telling her the obvious: that he was one of the rare young men who had the ability to affect her. Most, she didn’t even notice.

      Eve enjoyed the art of flirting, she enjoyed the challenge of charming and captivating people, all people, who might be helpful to her. What to do with that once the game was afoot was hardly her strong suit. She frankly didn’t have time for callers. The detective would, of course, remain a colleague, but the game could remain, silently, in play, ensuring an ally in him and a source of secret pleasure if she could keep him on a bit of a hook.

      Grandmother Evelyn, having watched Eve’s face from the moment Zofia burst to her side, rose quietly from her perch at the side of the room as if on cue. When Eve glanced at her gran—her mentor, her inspiration, and her very best friend—she knew she’d been heard; that the ripple of the spirit world Zofia sent across Spiritualist waters had been felt there too. Her grandmother turned to Lord and Lady Denbury and smiled that gracious, warm smile that eased the sting of whatever she might say next.

      “Something has happened,” Evelyn said gently. “Information has just arrived with some urgency and demands Eve’s attention. Let me go, I’ll see after her.”

      Eve’s mother, sitting bolt upright and yet distant-eyed, as if trying to somehow be both alert and far away at the same time, nodded to her elder, knowing better than to fight the inevitable and acquiescing that she couldn’t come between two such kindred spirits who remained so driven by their gifts, talents that precluded all else.

      “Mother, Father,” Eve swept over to them and kissed their cheeks in turn, feeling the draft the spirits left in her wake wash over them in a subtle breeze. Her mother physically recoiled from the chill while keeping a strained smile on her face.

      She gazed between the two of them, speaking with a mournful earnestness. “I know you hardly know what to say to me anymore. I am so sorry all of this pains you. I love you very much.”

      Her raven-haired and unearthly blue-eyed father, Jonathon, described by ladies of the city as breathtakingly handsome, managed a reply. “Congratulations, my dear, on this accolade from the Governor. Whatever you do that solves the unsolved, eases pain, and makes this city safer, we love and support you.”

      Her mother fought for words, the white lace collar that swept up from the taffeta of her fine purple gown quavering a moment. The cameo at her throat and the small auburn pin curls that framed her lovely face shook before she finally murmured, “Grandmother Helen’s loving ghost would be very proud.”

      At this, Eve’s grandfather, Gareth, squeezed his daughter’s hand and reached out to pat Eve on the head as she bent over them, shifting the careful braid she’d put her dark hair into to manage her thick locks. “Yes. Be good. Be safe, child,” he said, maintaining his nearly fixed, pleasant smile.

      They meant their words, but all of this was a kind of torture and Eve didn’t want to subject them to it any further, and she urged the whole family to go home and rest.

      Her parents and grandfather went on ahead, Evelyn insisting she and Eve would hail a hansom cab and all would be well after a breath of fresh air.

      ‘A breath of fresh air’ was their code for a full leave to talk with spirits.

      Eve needed that air, and she needed her girls, without constraint. She could gain no reliable intelligence if she herself was surrounded by the uninitiated, the uncomfortable СКАЧАТЬ