Timp and I splashed through the swamp until the fog dissipated enough for us to see each other. I heard movement before the voice.

  “Who’s there?” the voice trembled. A gun cocked.

  It was Harker. Where the hell had he gotten a gun? No one should’ve trusted that man with a firearm. Too squirrelly. He and Bram had taken what appeared to be a guard post several strides from where the campsite was set up.

  “Oh, stuff it in your pants,” I hollered back. “It’s me.”

  I pushed through the brush. Harker had a rusty shotgun aimed my way, though his hands were trembling.

  “My God, Mr. Crowley, trouble sure does seem to follow you,” Bram said, slightly out of breath. He sat on a log gripping his thigh, seeming well enough. Guess Laveau’s charms had done most of their work.

  “Got along fine until I met you,” I countered.

  Harker rolled his eyes. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  “Irish’s killer is dead, by the way. You’re welcome.”

  Both men went silent. Bram drew a cross over his chest with his finger. As I went by, I disarmed Harker in one smooth motion.

  “Hey, that’s mine—”

  “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

  I tossed the shotgun into the swamp. Harker pushed me with two hands. I could tell he wasn’t thinking. It was just reflex. His eyes went wide with fear, and Timp damn near bit his fingers off.

  “You, uh… owe me for that…” he stammered.

  My glare leveled on him. “You’d be lucky if that thing still fired. Where’d you find it, a junk yard?” I turned my glare to Bram. “Goddammit, Bram. I thought I told you two to hop the next boat out. Instead, you brave the swamps again. You want them grunches to finish the job or something?”

  “It didn’t seem proper to leave in such a manner,” Bram replied.

  “Proper ain’t got a damn thing to do with it.”

  Bram tried to stand. It didn’t work. He just ended up falling back on his rump and wincing. “We’ve come a long way with Rosa, Mr. Crowley. It would be wrong to abscond just as she faces her gravest trial.”

  I scoffed. “Or a chance to witness the occult. I see right through you, Mr. Stoker.”

  “A rare occasion, then, that opportunity and the right thing share a path.”

  Exasperated didn’t begin to cover the sigh I let out. Placing my hand on Harker’s shoulder, I met his gaze. “Get a new job.”

  He froze like a mouse caught in a cat’s shadow. Didn’t even blink.

  “And you,” I said to Bram. “Find a new hobby. Vampires, seances—I’m telling you, this is how good people die.”

  “Be that as it may, I have a calling, and I plan to see it through to the end. Whatever that end may be.”

  “You already almost lost a leg,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got another.” He raised his good leg, waggling his foot around in a circle.

  “Suit yourself.”

  The greenish firelight emanated a short distance away, and I clicked my tongue to get Timp moving with me. I’ll give them some credit: Bram and Harker were ready to defend against who they worried might be an intruder. Wouldn’t have lasted long if I’d had ill intent, but it’s the thought that counts.

  The campsite was anything but. Hard to classify it, so I guess I’ll just call it a shrine to nature. A brass bowl sat atop a tree stump, with strong incense inside causing the verdant flame. Stones were arrayed in a circle around it, unmarked and each a different size. Like something cavemen might have done to beg the sky not to rain. And overhead, two gnarled trees met in an arch, twisting together like horny lovers.

  Rosa knelt in the mud on one side of the stump. She wasn’t at ease. Uncomfortable looking, even. If she wanted to spring to her feet and flee, she could have done so with ease.

  Laveau, positioned across from her, was the opposite. She was right at home, cross-legged, concentrating on putting the finishing touches on sewing a tiny doll made of thread and reeds. Damballah hung around her shoulders and hissed at Timp, getting her to give a bit of ground.

  Back against a rotting tree trunk, the drunkard was tied up, facing the stump between them. His black suit was stained brown from dirt. His thick double chin hung against his chest, and he was snoring. Could’ve started a fire just off his liquor breath.

  “If you are here to argue, James, I’d ask that you please leave,” Laveau said calmly, not looking up from her work.

  I stared at Rosa. Disheveled as she was from the hell we’d been through, that raven black hair could fight off any grime. Her sleeves were hacked up, her snake and dagger tattoo peeking through the shredded strands. And those eyes. Through a tousle of loose hair, she stared up at me without anger or contempt. Wasn’t love either.

  What I saw justified what I’d promised Shar. She was a scared woman in need of a friend. That’s all.

  “I’m not,” I said, letting Timp go. She trotted over to nuzzle against Rosa’s head. I followed, kneeling beside her like a love-drunk idiot about to propose. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been and for taking so long to tell you the truth about me.” I laughed at myself. “The truth… Well, the truth is I just didn’t want this life for you. I know what happens when you turn this page, and the story has no happy ending. Doesn’t get easier knowing more than we humans should know.”

  Rosa watched me out of the corners of her eyes now. They glistened, the beginning of some emotion.

  “But seeing as how you hogtied this asshole and brought him out here all yourself, clearly, you know what you want. Only a fool would try to stand in the way. But family’s got to be at your side, through thick and through thin. So, that’s my dumb speech. And here I am to help however you need me.”

  A single tear slowly trailed down her cheek, washing away a thin streak of dirt. For a second, I thought we were in for waterworks, but in typical Rosa fashion, her lips lifted to a smirk.

  “Family, eh? You adopting me, anciano?”

  “Very funny.” I reached to her clasped hands, taking hold of one. “It’s the law of the West. The companions you ride with are family. Because if you don’t treat them that way, you’ll all need a grave dug sooner than later.”

  “You’re a big softie, you know that?”

  A few inappropriate retorts came to mind, but I decided to be a gentleman. I simply patted her hand, smiled, then took my seat on the stump.

  “So.” I clapped my hands and rubbed them together. “You planning to puppet him, right, Laveau?”

  “That is a degrading term,” she said.

  “Forgive me for being ignorant of all your voodoo colloquialisms.”

  “I admit, it is not the simplest method, but thanks to your friend Rougarou, neither I nor Rosa have access to my home, to everything I needed to commune in a more civil manner. And considering the explosion in Crescent City, it seems speed is of the essence. Can I assume that was your doing?”

  “Whoops.” I looked to Rosa and shrugged. “You’ll be pleased, though. The city will soon know sure enough that you didn’t touch the senator.”

  Marie nodded. “Until the next issue arises, then.”

  “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. Thank-yous ain’t easy to come by around here.”

  “Grow up, James,” Rosa said.

  I laughed. We wouldn’t be traveling companions without throwing insults back and forth during downtime. Big Davey would’ve fit right in around this fire—may he rest in peace.

  “There.” Laveau finished the doll and held it up. It bore a striking resemblance to the drunkard, even without proper materials. Laveau didn’t earn her nickname by accident.

  “That simple, huh?” I asked.

  “To perform, yes,” she said. “But it’s the stain it leaves on the soul that makes methods such as this dangerous. To control another against their will. To own their body entirely. It mars the soul in a way that can never be washed away.”

  I remembered back in Revelation Springs when I’d used a Nephilim’s cursed harmonica to control Rosa and keep her from ruining her life. That guilt still clung to me every time the thought snuck in, and it would never go away. I couldn’t imagine how many memories like that Laveau had.

  “If you don’t feel comfortable…” Rosa said meekly.

  Laveau smiled. “I have enough blemishes to bear one more in order to help a lost soul, dear. It is you I worry for.”

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  Rosa swallowed. “You said it won’t hurt him.”

  “Not in a lasting way. Memories of your beloved may bridge into his dreams and disorient him. But it will fade in time, and he will go on living never having known of this invasion.”

  “I did volunteer, you know,” Bram spoke up from behind us. They’d left their post to sit on a tree trunk at the edge of the site. “The offer still stands.”

  “We already went through this,” Rosa said. “No.”

  “Better I choose than it be forced upon a stranger. I’d like to help,” Bram argued.

  “You just want another experience for your notes,” I said.

  “Merely an ancillary perk.”

  “How about nobody does it?” Harker said. “Oh, right. I’m not even here.”

  “Choose or not, it cannot be you,” Laveau said without looking up. “She cannot have a relationship with the man. It will distract her and that is not a danger worth risking to satiate your curiosity.”

  Bram’s disappointment was evident, but it didn’t seem like the first time he’d been told the same. He backed down quick, though, with Harker continuing to complain under his breath.

  “I, for one, think you made a good choice,” I addressed Rosa. “Maybe it’ll teach the drunk how to treat a lady.”

  “You know him?” Rosa asked.

  “Not from a hole in the wall, but I got a few minutes watching him at work with the fairer sex. I may not love you doing this, but helping you is probably the only kindness he’s ever done a woman.”

  “He was quite rude to me as well,” Rosa said with a small smile. “Easy to get to follow me, though.”

  Timperina snorted.

  “Tell yourself whatever you must to justify this,” Laveau said, “but whatever you do, do not take this lightly.”

  I removed my hat and held it by the fire to dry. “Marie, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to talk Rosa out of it.”

  Laveau got to her feet and stroked Damballah’s head. “Those who trivialize what we do will find themselves consumed by it.”

  Rosa’s cheeks went pale. Mine probably would have too if they could. A grave warning, but probably half the reason the White Throne was content to call Laveau a friend. Witches could be much, much more wicked.

  The green light played eerily across Laveau’s dark features in a way that made her seem far from matronly for once. She circled it, and when she reached Rosa, she extended her hand without a word. Rosa, clearly knowing what to expect, stretched out her own palm. Then Laveau pricked Rosa’s finger with her sewing needle.

  Rosa recoiled and sucked on the wound. Her nervous gaze went to me.

  My attention was on the blood painting the needle red, dripping down the length of it. A white strand of thread hung limply from the other side, and slowly, it went crimson.

  “Last chance,” Marie said.

  Rosa nodded, and Laveau raised the effigy of the drunk and ran the needle through the heart of the little doll.

  Rosa’s breath shuddered. She straightened her spine, shoulders pushed back.

  “You wanted this,” I reminded her.

  Laveau continued on around to the passed-out man. She lifted his arm and drew blood from his finger in the same manner, then passed the needle through the same spot on the doll. Once it was through, she bit off the string and tossed the needle into the fire.

  Turning back to Rosa, she held out an open palm. “Now, something of Willy’s that he cherished, which you now cherish in his stead.”

  Rosa’s stare got lost in the fire. She breathed low and fast. I scooted closer and took her hand, pressing a thumb against the still bleeding prick. Her fingers clasped mine. If the White Throne cared about me at all, they’d have given me normal feeling just that once… Imagination would have to suffice.

  “Rosa, it is now or never,” Laveau insisted.

  “Right.” The muscles in her hand stretched as her grip around mine tightened. One last breath, then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a ring.

  I recognized it. Didn’t even know she still had it. Her wedding band, which I’d discovered on Willy’s dead and detached finger soon after he was murdered in Dead Acre.

  “I’d never seen him as nervous as the day he presented this to me,” Rosa sniveled. “He should have walked away.”

  “He’s lucky he didn’t,” I said.

  “Then I should’ve said no.”

  “No time in this life for should haves.” I gave her hand a squeeze. “Now, go on. Unburden your soul.”

  She met my gaze, then handed the ring to Laveau. Her fingers fought to maintain a hold on the last thing she had to remember her husband by, but she got it done.

  Goodbyes are never easy.

  Laveau took it, all business, and placed it around the arm of the little doll. Then she approached the basin and suspended it over the absinthe-hued flames. There, she paused to look back at Rosa. Not a word was shared, but Rosa nodded her approval.

  Her throat clenched visibly as Laveau let the bloodied doll and the ring fall. The little idol crackled and gradually caught. Little fiery worms crawled around as the straw burned. The beads Marie had used for eyes melted. Laveau stepped back and sat between Rosa and the unconscious drunk.

  “Your hand again,” she instructed.

  Rosa gave her the hand I wasn’t holding. Laveau stretched it out toward the fire, close enough to feel the heat.

  “I will act as your conduit,” Laveau said. “Whatever you do, Rosa. Do not let go. No matter what.”

  Rosa grunted.

  “Say it,” Laveau insisted.

  “I won’t let go.”

  “Good. Because if you do, this man’s mind will sever from our mortal plane, and then something innocent becomes murder.”

  Harker gasped audibly behind us.

  “You never mentioned that part,” Bram said.

  We all ignored the two of them.

  “I understand,” Rosa said, voice quavering.

  Laveau took a deep breath as she gripped the drunkard’s hand.

  “Now, wait a bleeding minute,” Bram said, doing his best to stagger forward.

  I turned toward him. “That’s enough, Bram. You wanted to play in the Devil’s playground, don’t get upset when demons join you.”

  “But this is—”

  “Exactly what you wanted. The supernatural. What did you expect? Now sit down before I sit you down.”

  He huffed a bit, but listened.

  Rosa eyed me, a thank-you in there somewhere.

  Her hand was now touching that of this stranger, and a flash of something like anger slithered up inside me. I shoved it down, glancing down at Rosa’s other hand, which I still held a bit too tightly.

  Laveau settled into her spot and closed her eyes. She spoke some words in French, and her pupils started to dance back and forth under her eyelids.

  “Think of him, and only him,” Laveau said. “Your happiest memories. Your worst memories. Everything in between.”

  I didn’t have to worry about Rosa letting go of me. Her knuckles were white from squeezing, as she too closed her eyes and dug into her memories. All I could do was watch helplessly. Not a position I was used to, but this was what I needed to be for Rosa. A helping hand.

  The fire burned on, the doll little more than shreds crisping beside the glowing ring. I can’t say I understood how all this mysticism worked, but I got the gist of it. Things in our world are connected—like giving a piece of sculpted metal intrinsic value, binding two souls together for life.

  Laveau’s eyes were like scurrying rabbits. She murmured under her breath something that sounded like tongues. No longer French. Total drivel from what I could tell. The drunkard moaned and twitched. He didn’t wake.

  Must have gone on like that for a few minutes. Loneliest I’d been in a spell. Even Timp kept her distance, knowing instinctually that she shouldn’t interfere with witchcraft.

  Then, I saw it. Rosa’s eyes had filled to a point she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Tears came freely, her breathing in deep heaves.

  “It is you,” Laveau spoke softly. It wasn’t a whisper, but her voice had an ethereal quality to it, like it didn’t belong to her. No accent or anything. “William Cornelius Massey, it is you.”

  The drunkard inhaling suddenly scared the shit out of me. Rosa too. Her eyes sprang open, and she pulled her hand free of mine to defend herself. Her other hand tried to do the same, but Laveau had it in a death grip.

  The drunkard leaned forward, eyes searching from side to side like a baby just born. I turned to Laveau. Her eyes were open now, only they were white clouds. Sort of like mine got when I Divined, and I reckoned this was a similar sort of a thing.

  “What… is…” Like Laveau, the drunk’s voice was his but not. I’d heard the man slurring and cursing back at the bar, and this was his tone with none of the timbre. Just cold, emotionless words delivered by a puppet.

  “Willy?” Rosa asked, barely able to get the word out.

  The puppet turned to her and blinked.

  “Willy, is that you?”

  The man’s eyes were aimed at her, but like the voice, they were lifeless. It was my first time witnessing anything like this firsthand. In my head, it’d been more romantic, where he’d inhabited the body in full and they shared one last loving embrace.

  Only real life ain’t butterflies and rainbows.

  “Rosa?” he asked.

  “It’s me,” Rosa said, swallowing the lump in her throat. Her eyes were puffy. Could barely speak. “Willy, it’s me.”

  “I… where am I?”

  “I don’t know…” She nearly broke down at that, but I re-gripped her hand to remind her she wasn’t alone. “At peace, I hope.”

  “Are you okay?” Willy asked through the drunk.

  She nodded. “I am. Better than okay now.”

  “You do always bounce back, don’t you, my love? And Father?”

  Rosa chuckled through her tears. “Complaining about something or other no doubt.”

  I thought I saw the puppet’s lips flicker with the slightest smile as well, but I was probably projecting.

  “Same as always, then,” he said.

  “God.” Rosa bit her lip to steady her crying. “I miss you, darling. I miss your smell.” She laughed again. “Funny how we remember tiny things like that. It was like leather from whatever boot you were fixing in your shop.”

  “You always hated that.”

  “No. I hated so many things, Willy, but never anything about you. The world dealt me a difficult hand… I—”

  “I know it did, sweetheart.”

  It was hard to watch this drunk who was so putrid in life speaking such kind words. Even harder knowing what it took to get here, and how ephemeral it would be.

  “You never pried,” Rosa said.

  “I never had to,” Willy answered.

  Rosa gulped audibly. She was on the verge of breaking down, as any normal person with feelings would in a situation like this. I can’t quite say how I felt. I’d never known them together. Hearing terms like “darling” and “sweetheart” made me feel queer. Like I was eavesdropping on my parents or hiding under their bed.

  A feeling of dread stole over me. Like I didn’t belong.

  The green fire grew brighter, then lost potency, flickering like a candle in the breeze.

  Laveau’s eyelids—which had been stuck open all this time—blinked. “I’m losing him.”

  The desire to let go of Rosa’s hand overwhelmed me. Fog engulfed us so much that even Timperina wasn’t visible. Maybe it was darkness. Something didn’t feel right. It wasn’t just that I didn’t belong; something else didn’t. Like we weren’t alone.

  “Willy, I need to tell you something,” Rosa said.

  “You can tell me anything, honey,” he answered. His voice sounded different all of a sudden. Deeper.

  “Rosa, I think it’s time to end this,” I said.

  She squeezed me harder. I looked down at my hand, and by God, as much as I might have tried to pull free, I couldn’t. It was like she’d gained the strength of a minotaur. My bones crunched. And not just mine. Laveau whimpered as her eyes twinkled in and out of the trance. Her fingertips lost all their color.

  “Anything cruel I ever said to you,” Rosa went on. “Anything at all. I didn’t mean it. You were the best thing in my life. It should have been me who died, not you.”

  “You’re right,” Willy said, voice even deeper. “Darkness clings to you like a sickness. It chokes you. Guides your every move. You are beyond redemption.”

  Rosa recoiled. “What?”

  “Is that not the answer you were looking for?” Willy chortled. An evil sound. A demonic thing. “They so rarely are. You deserve darkness, Rosa Massey; you just refuse to embrace it.”

  “No… I…”

  “You have no inkling of what you are, Rosa. But I’ve found you.”

  “Rosa, you have to let go,” I said. “Rosa!”

  Unable to break free of her, I scrambled around in front of her, nearly knocking the bronze basin over into the fire. I tried to free Laveau, but Rosa wouldn’t give up an inch.

  Laveau whispered her name and started to convulse.

  “What are you talking about, Willy?” Rosa said, as if completely ignorant to my presence. “I found you.”

  “After so many centuries, here you are,” Willy said. The body stood, the ropes that bound him to the tree snapped. And when he rose, it was unnatural as hell, no bending of the knees or anything. Just seated one second, and right up the next.

  As it strode forward, I did the only thing I could do and stepped over the log to tried to punch it. Nothing. It was like hitting stone.

  “James! Stop!” Rosa shouted like she was totally oblivious to the strangeness that had begun.

  I did stop. Only not because I wanted to. What I wanted to do was put a dozen silver slugs through his head but found myself unable to move. Everything became frozen in time except them.

  Willy’s puppet stopped in front of Rosa, reached out, and wiped the tear from her cheek.

  “Perfection,” he whispered.

  Rosa could hardly catch her breath as she met that lifeless stare. “Willy, you’re confusing me.”

  His hand moved down her face to her neck. The fingers slowly edged around her throat. “Stop diminishing yourself with remorse for these mortals,” he said. “You are finally home, thanks to them.”

  His eyes darted to Laveau and her head lurched back suddenly.

  She unleashed an earsplitting scream.