nightdress and then sighed. “It’s good to see ya again, girl.”
I dropped my eyes. This felt too much like goodbye, and I’d never really been good at that.
“Okay then, no more of that mopey crap. You want to know what I know, I’m sure. I sent my cabana boys out to run some errands while I was laid up in this bed.”
My brows twitched. “Cabana boys?”
“Cain and Abel. Lord help me but those boys are sexy. There might be snow on the roof, girl, but there’s still a fire in the furnace.”
This time it was me cackling. “Grace, I can’t believe you said that.”
She shrugged, but her lips did an odd little twitch that I knew meant she’d managed to amuse herself.
“Open the drawer and pull out the folder.”
Reaching over, I pulled open the end table drawer. Inside was a familiar manila folder. “This feels like old times.”
She sighed. “Well, it’s my parting gift to you.”
“What is it?” I flipped the envelope around to the front side.
“Open it up.”
When I did, I saw only one sheet of paper. It was a print out of a picture of two gorgeous willows twisting out of the side of a massive gray boulder.
I read the words printed beneath the photo. “The legend of the kissing tree.” I looked at her. “What is this?”
“That, m’dear, is where you’ll find Asher’s key.”
My fingers went numb. A part of me wanted to tear out of there and trace to wherever those trees were to find the key. Another part of me wanted to burn the picture and pretend I’d never seen it, never even heard of this kissing tree.
“How’d you find this? Even Ash didn’t know where the key was hidden.”
“There are powerful forces at play here, Dora. Very powerful. I was visited by a man you probably know.”
The way she said it told me immediately to whom she referred. “Death.”
“The one and only Grim Reaper, aye.” She nodded, gave a slight cough, and took a deep, wheezing breath before giving me a weak smile.
“When? When did he come here?” I clutched the sheet to my chest.
“About three months ago. Told me to look into a place called Camelot, Massachusetts, where the willows kiss.”
“Why would he do that?” I wasn’t really asking Grace, but it bothered me how much of a pawn I felt like lately. Kidnapped, tortured, mind perverted and twisted, and then taken in by a being who’d never in my memory taken sides in the fate of humanity. And yet here he was guiding us all every step of the way.
She shrugged. “I canna say. Only, I suspect he may be working for the other side.”
“And what side might that be?” I drummed my fingers on my thigh.
Grace pointed a finger toward the ceiling and gave me a pointed look.
My eyes widened. “No.”
She closed her eyes for a second. “Meh, it’s just a guess, as I said.”
“So say he is working for”—I cleared my throat, trembling at the very thought of it—“Him, then by coming here and telling you this—”
“I suspect that yes”—she turned to me—“he intends for you to find the key.”
I crushed the sheet in my fist. “Then I should leave?”
Rolling her neck from one side to the other very gently, she nodded. “Aye, but give it a night at least, lass. Rest here, eat, sleep. I’m sure you’re tired.”
I was tired, exhausted really. But I wasn’t going to tell her that, because closing my eyes didn’t help. The nights were the worst, that’s when the memories came crashing in. That’s when the half-forgotten memories of that lost year haunted me.
Her finger was a tender glide along my jawline. “You do not look well, demon girl.”
Dropping my eyelids, I held her hand and shook my head. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I’d cry, so instead I just sat there hunched over her hand, silent and remembering.
“What did they do to you?”
“Oh, Grace.” I hiccupped and then sniffed as one hot tear after another burned a trail down my face.
“I sense great evil in you now, lass.” Her
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