The Promise of Lost Things by Helene Dunbar

Author:Helene Dunbar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2022-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Willow

The monotony of sanding the spirit cabinet allowed me to get my thoughts in order, and I realized the things I wanted weren’t so disparate after all. I wanted Ian gone for good. I wanted his power. And I wanted St. Hilaire returned to its status as a force in the spiritualist world, one that could devote itself to the true purpose of mediums. Perhaps all of that could be brought about in one spectacular maneuver. Perhaps Ghost Killers was the answer to everything.

I had to make it happen. And I had to make Father think it was his idea, or he and the Guild would push back.

“If you allow this, there will be trucks,” I said, letting the curtains fall against the window. “Lining up outside St. Hilaire with their lights and their cameras. It’s going to be the worst sort of spectacle.” I drew the last word out into extra syllables. I knew Father loved nothing more than a good bit of drama.

“What do you have in mind?” Father asked. He cut a regal figure in this room of gold and burgundy, but I saw the stress in his eyes. It was perhaps presumptuous of him to assume I’d come up with an idea. But then he knew me. And he was correct.

“I was hoping you would be able to hold your ground and shut this show down, but if you don’t feel as though you can do that…” I stared down at my nails, pacing myself. “I think, perhaps, we should give them what they want.”

Father took a deep breath. I could feel the weight of his stare. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Ian Mackenzie,” I said, the name forming like cotton candy on my tongue.

Father rubbed his hands together and closed his eyes in the way he did when he was deep in thought.

“Ian seems…disinterested in helping us,” he said bitterly. “And you know what he’s like.”

I fought to keep a smile off my face. I did know what Ian was like. I knew how charming he could be. I knew how the light danced around him when he was taking charge of a séance. I knew the power he played with when he was alive and how that power might be used in a different way now that he’d crossed over. Oh yes, I knew what he was like.

Ian would never simply show up if I or the Guild called him. He’d made that abundantly clear. But for my plan to work, I needed him to. And I needed Father to believe that my motives were about helping the Guild. If I planted the correct seeds, Ian would be delivered right to me.

“Everyone has a price,” I said, allowing my voice to smooth into nonchalance. It amazed me how easy it was to form the lie, to lay the groundwork for my plan.

“A price?” Father asked, eager. Given the years he had led the Guild, he was surprisingly soft. Few could see through it.

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