Cyn grew more and more anxious the closer they got to the cemetery. They were going to pass the house where she and Hunter had lived after high school graduation. Where Hunter died . . .
She couldn’t look when it finally came into view. And long after it was blocks behind them, she could have sworn she still heard police sirens.
Curved wrought-iron gates marked with an elaborate S on top of one and an Hon top of the other greeted them when they pulled up to the sprawling Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. The gates were padlocked shut, but a low stone border with a section of trees and bushes cleared back was obviously used as a way to get around them.
Thirteen led the way into the cemetery, and Cyn and Joe followed. But Cyn kept stopping to look over her shoulder. It felt like someone else was behind them.
Finally, Thirteen stopped and turned around too. “If you’re going to keep following us, then you might as well help us. Where did the crossover happen?”
Cyn and Joe both stared into the darkness.
“Who are you talking to?” Cyn said.
Thirteen snapped his fingers, and suddenly her vision blurred and then returned. Everything around her became sharper and more defined. Like she’d been wearing the wrong glasses but now had the right prescription. “I’m talking to him.”
He pointed at a mausoleum to their left. Or more accurately, to the young guy leaning against the mausoleum. He had white-blond hair and the greenest eyes Cyn had ever seen.
“Whoa, man,” Joe said. “Where did you come from?” Then he mumbled, “I don’t like ghosts.”
“I don’t like people who step on graves,” the guy said. Joe looked down and saw he was standing on top of a cracked tombstone buried in the ground. Swearing, he took a step back. The guy smirked, then nodded at Cyn. “Hey, Cyn. Abbey will be happy to see you again.”
A brief image of black curly hair and blue eyes flashed through Cyn’s mind.
“He’s one of the Shades that guard the cemetery,” Thirteen said to Joe.
Suddenly, a female voice drifted over from the iron-gated plot behind them. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Irving. Caspian? Where are you? I have an idea for this new perfume I want to make, but I need some—”
A girl holding a basket of flowers stepped through the gate and onto the path. She was wearing an old-fashioned lacy black dress and had a red ribbon in her dark, curly hair. Her blue eyes grew huge when she saw them standing there. “Cyn! What are you doing here?”
Dropping the flowers, the girl ran to hug Cyn.
Cyn was almost knocked over by the force of her excitement, but as soon as they touched, memories started flooding back. “Abbey? I don’t understand. . . . I have all of these memories of you, but it’s like . . . two different things happened. You were alive, and we went to school together. But then everyone thought you were dead. That can’t be right.”
Abbey pulled back and smiled. Then Caspian came over, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. Abbey tilted her head back to glance up at him. The look that passed between them spoke of a love that was stronger than time.
Cyn had to glance away. It reminded her too much of Hunter.
“Both memories are right,” Abbey said. “We became friends at school because my best friend, Kristen, died. Vincent Drake was the one responsible for her death.” A dark look crossed her face, and she scowled. “The other Revenants helped me cross over and reversed time so that Kristen could come back and I could take her place. On the night that Caspian and I completed each other, Vincent tried to use you to stop me. But it didn’t work. Caspian and I ended up together. Here.”
“The other Revenants . . .,” Thirteen said. “Let me guess, Acacia and Uriel?”
Caspian nodded. “And Kame and Sophiel. Even Vincent’s partner was here, Monty.”
“Actually, I think I remember seeing you before,” Abbey said to Thirteen. “When Cacey and Uri took me with them to go find Monty at the insane asylum, Gray’s Folly. I remember thinking it was strange because you were acting like you worked there, but you wore black leather pants.”
Caspian raised an eyebrow at her. “You noticed his pants?”
“Well, he’s . . . uh, he’s wearing them now.” She gave him a weak smile. “So it sort of just jogged my memory. And you have to admit, it’s pretty weird for a nurse’s aide to be wearing leather pants.”
“I was looking for a psychic who was supposed to be there,” Thirteen said.
Caspian bent down to whisper in Abbey’s ear, but Cyn could hear what he was saying. “I can get some leather pants.”
Abbey blushed and shook her head. “Trust me,” she whispered back. “You don’t need them.”
They shared another look, but Thirteen interrupted them. “So, you’re telling me five Revenants were here? To take care of one Shade crossover? That’s a lot of firepower.”
“They were supposed to be taking care of Vincent, too,” Caspian replied.
“Yeah, well, they didn’t. Because he ended up in her.” He pointed over at Cyn.
Abbey inhaled sharply. “How did that happen?”
“Apparently, I’m an Echo,” Cyn said. “Which means I’m a conduit for souls of the dead, and it just so happened that he was one of the dead. Lucky me.”
“We need to find out exactly where the Shade crossing happened. The last place that Vincent was corporeal,” Thirteen said. “So we can remove him.”
“It happened at the river,” Abbey replied. “We can take you there.”
Thirteen stepped to the side. “After you.”
Abbey and Caspian led them down the hill and across the grounds, moving with the easy confidence of two people who were familiar with every inch of the cemetery. They walked hand in hand, and Cyn followed behind. But eventually, Abbey started falling back until she and Cyn were walking next to each other.
“Hey, how’s Ben?” Cyn asked. “I haven’t seen him since graduation.”
“He’s good. He and Kristen are together now, actually. She opened a bath-and-body shop downtown called Abbey’s Hollow. They stop by here a lot. It’s nice to still have the chance to see them, you know?” She laughed. “Even if they can’t see me.”
“You and Caspian just . . . stay here, then?”
“We live here. There’s a cottage on the far side of the cemetery. I wish you could see it. It’s amazing. Right out of a fairy tale.”
“Fairy tales were never my thing,” Cyn said. “Judging by the looks flying between you and Caspian, though, it’s definitely your thing.”
“It’s weird.” Abbey paused for a moment. “I almost feel like I was born for this. Born to be the caretaker of this cemetery and to be with Caspian. Did you ever have a feeling that you were just meant to do something?”
Cyn looked down. “No.”
“If you ever do get that feeling, grab on to it and don’t let go. No matter what anyone says. It’s worth it.” They walked in silence for a while longer until Abbey said, “So, what’s the deal with him?” She gestured over her shoulder at Thirteen. “He’s ridiculously good looking, but wow. Intense.”
“And arrogant and annoying and thinks he’s right about everything.” Cyn shook her head. “You don’t know the half of it. He’s not even really all that good looking. He’s freakishly tall, and he only wears black. And a motorcycle? He drives a motorcycle, by the way. A rusty, old junk bucket. But it’s vintage. Supposedly.”
“Mmmmhmm . . .” Abbey glanced down at the ground, trying to hide her grin. “Sounds like fun.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it fun. I’d call it—”
“It happened there,” Caspian suddenly said, pointing at the edge of the river.
Cyn came to a stop. She remembered it now. This was the place where Vincent had tried to take her hostage.
Abbey leaned in and gave Cyn a hug. “Come back and see us anytime. Good luck with everything. ” She glanced over at Thirteen. “And good luck with him, too. Something tells me you’re going to need it.”