Chapter Fourteen

The next morning, I woke to the bing of my cell, puffy eyes, and a pounding headache. Fumbling in the near dark, I groped for the phone. It was a text from Nell.

REMEMBER WHAT RORI SAID. IT WILL ALL WORK OUT.

Coming into the kitchen, I saw Dad and Nancy sitting at the table. Dad rose and wrapped me in a hug.

“Did you tell Nell anything?” I asked. “Because she sent me an odd text.”

“I didn’t give you away,” said Dad.

“She phoned me,” said Nancy. “I ducked her call. Then she stopped by the station. That girl’s a pint-sized bloodhound. I thought she was going to throw me in a headlock, but I didn’t give anything away, either.”

“You carry a gun and a taser,” I said. “And you have a hundred years of being a cop.”

“Careful on calling me old,” she warned.

“I’m not worried,” I told her. “If you can’t take on Nell, I’m safe.”

“I never said anything about using traditional weaponry. I’m just saying it’s in your best interest to remember who cooks.” She glanced at Dad. “And who could be cooking. Remember that the next time you want lasagna.”

“Hey!” He put his hand over his heart. “I can cook.”

“Didn’t you once burn water?” she asked.

“I didn’t burn—Maggie was grappling with a ghost that had an unusual phobia—”

Nancy turned my way.

“Allodoxaphobia,” I said. “The fear of opinions. She veered toward poltergeist when I tried to tell her she needed to move on.”

“How did you transition her?”

“I started yelling, ‘is that really—? It can’t be! I can’t believe they’re here!’” I plucked a grape off Dad’s plate. “She saw her mom and moved on.”

“And the water in the pot boiled over,” said Dad. “It did not burn.”

“Still,” I said to Nancy. “Your threat is made, and I apologize, even though I wasn’t calling you old. I only meant you had extensive experience.” I reached for a crepe. “Even if you’re scared of Nell.”

Nancy moved the plate out of my way. “Big talk from the girl who won’t tell Nell what’s going down.”

“I’m not scared of her. I’m terrified, and I’m okay with that.”

“Way to own your truth and be accountable to yourself,” said Dad.

And that made me think of the secret I was keeping from him about my mother. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Is this about your cell?” His eyes went wide behind his metal frames. “Geez, Maggie, tell me you didn’t wreck another phone!”

“First of all, no, and second, at a time like this, you’re really worrying about my cell?”

“If your supernatural gifts included knowing the winning lotto numbers, I wouldn’t have to worry.”

“It’s not about the phone.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s about my mom.”

He stared at me from over his cup of coffee.

“What?”

“I wish it was about the phone.” He set down his mug.

“I have to tell you—we have to talk about her.”

“Is your phone working?”

“Yes, that’s not the—” I noticed Nancy rising from her chair. “You don’t have to leave.”

“This is family stuff.”

“Which is why you should be here,” I said. It took a second for the words to register, and another second for her to process what I’d said.

Then she was out of her chair, holding me tight to her. The wool of her sweater tickled my nose. The scent of baking and her soap undid my heart.

“You’re my family too, kid. I’m so proud of you, I know you’re going to do big, amazing—”

“I swear to god, I’m barely keeping it together. If you make me cry—”

She gently pushed me away. I turned back to Dad.

“Those phones are expensive,” he said.

“Are you still riding me about that? Oh, wait, you’re deflecting.”

“I’m not sure that’s the word for it.”

“There’s another word,” I said. “But saying it will get me grounded. We have to deal with what’s coming, and that means acting like adults.”

“Don’t talk to me about being an adult,” Dad said. “I pay my bills. And yours. Like the phone—”

“Dad!”

“Go easy on me,” he said. “Deflecting is harder than it looks.”

“What’s going on?” Serge came into the kitchen.

Dad read his text, opened his mouth, and I raised my hand. “We’re not playing this little game.”

“He asked for an update—”

“Which I’ll give him, later,” I said. “In the meantime, we need to talk about Mom.”

Serge sat down.

“It’s not fair I don’t tell you about her,” said Dad. “But it’s too painful. Your mom made her decision when you were born and she was—”

“She’s dead.”

He stilled. “What?”

“She’s dead.”

“Did she—” He hesitated. “—Did she come to you?”

“Sort of…” Now it was my turn to hesitate. “She’s The Voice.”

Nancy choked down the food in her mouth. “She’s the what? That thing that almost killed you when you were trying to solve Serge’s murder? And the thing that knocked you down the hill when Kent died is your mother?”

I nodded.

She made the sign of the cross against her body. “I gotta get to confession and ask forgiveness for thinking my mother was bad.”

“Are you sure?” Dad asked. “I knew your mom and she was kind, loving—”

I reached over, took his hand. “She’s in a really bad place.”

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked. “Are you sure she’s—” He couldn’t finish.

“I don’t know how she died, but it was horrible.”

Dad turned away, but I saw the pain on his face.

“We have to help her,” said Serge.

Both Dad and Nancy checked their texts.

“It sounds like the right thing to do,” said Dad. “But you don’t know what you’re stepping into.”

“If it was you or Nancy on the other side, I wouldn’t hesitate.” I didn’t tell him the other part, that guilt was a giant motivation for me. I hated that the resentment I’d felt towards my mom had been based on the only fact I had: she’d left me when I was a baby.

“Maybe there’s a good reason you’re hesitating,” said Nancy.

“Nancy’s right,” said Dad. “I don’t like what your mom’s…become…but if you’re right about how she died, no good is coming from you trying to find out. What if it was gang related? What if she saw a crime? You start asking around and who knows what’s going to crawl out from the dark.”

“Bad things, but I can’t leave her.”

“When she left,” Dad said. “I promised her I would take care of you. I promised her I would be all you needed so you would never want to look for her—”

“That’s crazy,” I said. “Every kid is going to wonder about who their parents are. How am I any different?”

“She had to leave, it was the right thing for her—”

“Why would she even put that on you—being enough so I would never look for her? And what about her? Wouldn’t she want to know how I was doing?”

“She trusted I would take care of you. I’m sorry she’s in a bad place, but you need to leave her alone,” Dad said. “If the roles were reversed, I’d rather live in torment than think I’d put you in any kind of danger.”

It didn’t feel right, but I’d just turned his world sideways. Maybe he’d come on board after he’d had time to think. “Maybe I can’t find her, okay, but the soul-eater is coming after Serge and me. My powers come from her side. If I could talk to an aunt or uncle…”

“She was an only child.”

“Parents?”

“Dead.”

“I know when you’re lying.”

He held up his hands. “Probably dead.”

“Maybe not as dead as you think. Anyway, she had to have some other family. Even if I can’t have a moment with Grandma and Grandpa, I can—”

“No, Maggie,” he said. “Leave it.”

“But they have answers.”

“You’ve never needed them before.”

“The soul-eater might have her,” I said. “And it’s torturing her.”

Dad’s face went ashen. “I’m sorry for that. We’ll figure this out in time.”

“We don’t have time,” I said. “Bad things are coming for us, and my mother’s family might have the answer. Serge and I can end the soul-eater. The souls deserve their freedom.”

Dad stood. “I made a promise, and promises don’t stop, even in death. She said take care of you, protect you, and I will.”

“I’m sure she didn’t think her life would end the way it did.” Nancy held out her hand to both of us. “Maybe there’s room to—”

“No,” said Dad. “This conversation is over, Maggie.”

And it fell into place, her not asking for updates, Dad not wanting me to look for her. “She never wanted me, did she? That’s why you don’t want me talking to her family, because they’d tell me that, wouldn’t they?”

“No, my girl, that’s not true.”

“That’s why she left, that’s why she made you promise not to let me look for her.”

“It’s not like that—”

That’s not what his face said.

“You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s not that your mom didn’t want you. It’s just that your birth…complicated things for her.”

A complication. For her. Not him. Just her. I stood, pressing my hand on the table to hold balance. “I’m going to my room.”

“It’s coming out wrong,” he said. “Your mom loved you.”

I waved down his words and mumbled some nonsense about wanting to get on the road because of early sunsets. A quick shower, then I was pulling on my clothes and not caring about how the fleece-lined sweater stuck to my wet skin.

“Maggie?” Dad knocked at the bedroom door.

“Did she want me or not?” I swung it open.

“Her family wasn’t going to be happy about it,” he said. “But she wanted you. If she didn’t care, why would she keep an eye on you all these years?”

“The other side has a way of clearing the brain.”

“I don’t know what to do,” said Dad as he came into my room. “Your mom had her reasons for making me promise what I promised.”

“Like she had her reasons for not wanting me?”

He sighed as he sat on the bed. “That’s not the full truth.”

I waited.

“Your mom was the one with the power. She struggled with it all of her life.”

“Her parents couldn’t help?”

“They didn’t have the abilities she did, and their religious beliefs told them to fear her and her gifts. She learned, young, to hide them.” His smile was brief.

This was the most he’d ever talked about her. I kept quiet, unwilling to break the fragile space between us.

“You are so much like her. Every time you speak, every time I see you.” He took my hand. “You are everything that was beautiful and good about your mom.”

Tears blurred my vision.

“Your mom became powerful, but it came at a cost. It wasn’t just about the souls. It was about the living. She was able to see people in all the ways they were, all the ways they could be. It began to destroy her.” He squeezed my fingers. “Then you came along. She sensed you would be even more powerful than she was.”

“And she left?”

“Her abilities were tearing her apart. She tried medication, meditation—nothing was working. She could no longer tell what was true reality and what was possible.” He went silent and for a while, I thought he wouldn’t say anymore.

“She asked me to care for you, asked that I wouldn’t tell you anything about her—”

“Why?”

“She didn’t want you to look for her, and she didn’t want her family making you feel as though there was anything wrong with you.” Dad let go of my hand.

“I’d rather she had stayed, even if she was troubled.”

“She left to keep you safe, and I made a million promises to her to protect you. This is as much as I can tell you without feeling like I’ve violated everything she and I were to each other.”

“But bad things are coming and she’s trapped. Maybe her family changed how it felt about psychics once she left. There’s no way Mom was the only one with abilities. There might be a sister or someone who can help me.”

“Let me think on it,” he said.

“That usually means no.”

“Not this time. I have to be careful,” he said. “She’s gone from this world. I have no way to talk to her and make her understand any of the decisions I’ve made.”

“But, Dad—”

“I know.” He raised his hand as he stood. “But this is more than you and me. This is her and me, and a lifetime of love and trust that was between us. Give me some time.”

I wanted to point out he’d had seventeen years, but that seemed snarky. So, I nodded.

He kissed my forehead and left.

I grabbed my stuff and headed downstairs.

“You have everything you need?” Nancy asked. “Clothes, toothbrush, emergency credit card, phone?”

I nodded.

She handed me a cell, then another. “To hold you until we get there.”

“It should be tomorrow or the day after,” said Dad. “Gregory will meet you at the airport.”

“Don’t talk to any strangers, ghosts, or—”

“Dad.” I took his hand. “I’ve got this. We’ve got this.”

Tears misted his eyes. “I don’t think we’ve ever been apart.”

“And we never will be,” I said. “It’s you and me, against the world.”

He hugged me tight. “Stay safe, my girl.”

Serge came in through the front door. “I really like messing with electronics. I warmed up your car.”

I grabbed my stuff. “Thanks.”

“Not that you need it,” he said.

“Why? It’s freezing.” I opened the door and came face to face with Nell.

“I’ve got all the gear stowed in my trunk,” she said. “We can swing by Tims on the way out of town.” She grabbed my bag and headed to her vehicle.

I spun to face Nancy and Dad. “You told her?”

“I didn’t say a word,” said Dad.

“Me either.” Nancy raised her hands.

“Hey!” I called after Nell. “What makes you think I’m letting you come?”

She smiled. “First, you’re not letting me do anything. And second, I do what I want. You know why?”

“I’m terrified to ask.”

“Because I’m plucky. Let’s go.”

“Is there any use in arguing with you?”

“It’s a chance to exercise your lungs.”

“What about your dad and mom?”

“They’re fine,” she said.

“You don’t even know where we’re going.”

She pulled out a credit card. “I’m sure they’ll take plastic.”

“This is dangerous,” I said.

“And Rori said not to be afraid and that everything would work out. Have faith.”

“Nell, no.” I glanced back at Dad and Nancy, who watched, waiting to step in. Dad pulled out his phone, pointed at it—code that he was phoning her folks—then turned away.

“This is dangerous,” I repeated.

“You can join me,” said Nell. “Or I can track you. Either way, you need a team, and I’m part of it.”

“Her dad says it’s fine.” Dad came to the head of the stairs.

“So? Tell her she can’t go,” I said.

“You tell her.”

Nell smiled.

He shrugged. “I can’t stop her if her dad won’t. Besides, it might not be a bad idea to have—”

“Some muscle on board?” asked Nell.

“—A friend,” finished Dad.

“How is that possible?” I asked her. “How can he just let you do this?”

“How does your dad let you do what you do?”

“I have powers.”

“And I’m plucky.”

“Nell—”

“You’re my best friend, Maggie. Where you go, I go.”

“Nell—” The look on her face stopped my lecture. “Come on, let’s go.”