professional jealousy. But I realize she just wants my family as far away from her ritual as possible to keep them from interfering.
Vivika still thinks that we believe her tale about how Byrnwolf was dabbling in forbidden magic and had her killed to keep his secret. She thinks we believe her when she says this ritual will trap Brynwolf so that he can be brought to justice before the Nine.
But Houston and I have spoken to Brynwolf and learned the horrible truth. Vivika was never just a gifted psion. This is just the most recent incarnation of Chana Magus, an 18 th century Haemomancer who unlocked a path to immortality…if the idea of consuming the souls of other human beings didn’t bother you too much. He showed us the evidence, and I was able to surreptitiously confirm the information without attracting undue attention from the Guild.
So Vivika is setting a trap to capture the Lord Advocate and, we assume, take over his body and identity. But our plan is to turn her trap on her and capture her so that she can be destroyed once and for all.
And despite all of his protests to the contrary, I’m really worried about Houston’s mental state in all of this. Plotting to destroy your mother is sort of a big deal. Even if she really does have it coming.
My phone rings. It’s Steve. “Hey, need a favor,” he says.
“I am not going to the Guild hall!”
“Wait, what happened at the Guild now?”
“Nothing. Nothing they can’t handle, anyway. What’s going on?”
“I’m stuck at the cairn and I just got a call that something is at the Old Broad Street church. Can you run down there and check it out for me?”
“What do you mean by something ? And what happened to the cairn now”
“Red Turtle is here. Don’t worry about the cairn. Just the same old, same old bullshit. I just don’t want whatever is going on at the church to go on too long.”
“So what exactly is going on there?”
“Got a report over the app from a Rosalind Jones, I think she’s a local. You know her?”
“She’s a hoodoo priestess. She orders supplies through the shop. I don’t know her well.”
“According to her report, there has been vandalism activity at the church.”
“And in other news, water is wet.”
“Yeah, that was my thought at first, too. But they are also reporting sink holes.”
I drop my arms to my side and sigh. Houston shrugs at me and waits for an explanation. “Why don’t you call the necromancers? This is their specialty.”
“After what happened during the zombie walk I don’t trust them to actually destroy it if it is what I think it is. I need someone I know will kill the damn thing. Call them in for clean up afterwards if you want.”
“Steve, I get that you are still pissed off at them, but you know I’ve been up to my eyeballs in crazy the last few months and—”
“Nancy, I wouldn’t ask you if I had other people I could trust. But I don’t. That cemetery is within walking distance of multiple schools. I don’t want to think about what happens if some kid cuts across the cemetery and falls into a trap.”
“You should be a mother the way you wield guilt.”
“I owe you.”
“Multiple times over.”
* * *
The Old Broad Street Presbyterian Church and Cemetery was built in 1792 and is the final resting place of New Jersey governor Elias P. Seeley. It is on the national register of historic places. And, apparently, is now the home of a ghul.
Undead are not my specialty. With the exception of Chancellor Vianu, I’ve never even talked to a vampire. Well, not knowingly. I might have and not realized it. The Delaware Valley has a fairly large vampire population, after all. But they leave us alone and we leave them alone and therefore we all go about our respective business. There was a blow-up of sorts in Philadelphia a few years ago and from what I understand the Blood Court had called in a favor with the Technomancers to shut down some cell towers temporarily
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