Page 56 of Grave Expectations
"Perhapsshedidn't know she could do it." I wished I'd added that question to my list to ask Edith Brumley. "He might have been trying to find out more about her magic while courting her, even while he was looking for me." As he had done with my mother. "His efforts were cut short by his untimely death. This is an extraordinary development. I wonder if Lincoln learned about the connection too."
"We asked Edith if she'd told anyone else about Joan's lover, and she said she hadn't because no one asked."
"Not even the police?"
He shook his head. "They only asked for recent connections, not ones that were months old. I suppose Edith didn't think it was relevant either, since the contact stopped some time ago."
"So what now?" Gus asked. "You goin' to summon the Brumley woman's spirit?"
I shook my head. "It's too dangerous. She was a necromancer. I can't risk her overriding my control." I blew out a shaky breath, unable to quite believe what I was about to do, and not yet sure how I felt about it. "I'm going to summon my father, Victor Frankenstein."
Chapter 11
"Areyou certain you want to do this?" Seth asked with quiet concern.
"Frankenstein's not magical," I assured him. "So we know he can't override my control."
"That's not what I meant."
I spread my fingers over my lap and blew out a breath. I sat on the new sofa, made by Fernesse himself, in the redecorated parlor. New furniture, new clothes, new fiancé, yet I didn't feel like I'd changed all that much since Frankenstein died. Sometimes, when I remembered he was my father, I found the whole thing difficult to fathom. Despite some physical resemblances, we were very different. I hoped never to become like him. He'd used people in the most callous way to complete his life's work. He'd used people he was supposed to love.
"I'll be fine," I said. "It's time I faced him."
"Maybe we should wait for Fitzroy." Gus eyed the door as if he expected Lincoln to walk in at any moment.
"I'd rather not wait. Besides, we don't know when he'll be back." Or if he needed us to fetch him.
I angled myself toward the fire, to chase away the sudden chill, and summoned Frankenstein. His spirit seemed to come out of nowhere, from no particular direction. It streaked around the room like a crazed, scared hare, passing through objects until it finally settled.
It formed his shape on the sofa beside me. "Charlotte!" He touched the ragged wound where his eye should have been. Lincoln's knife had caused it in a killing blow.
I swallowed. Sometimes I forgot what Lincoln had done. "Good morning." It didn't feel right calling him 'father' or 'sir', so I didn't call him anything. "I need to speak with you."
He spread his hands over his lap, much as I had just done, and stared at their ethereal form. "I…I'm a ghost."
"Yes. You died a little over three months ago."
He glanced up to the ceiling, then down to the floor. "You saved me."
Had he forgotten? I hadn't saved him. I'd been instrumental in killing him.
"You won't send me back, will you?" He smiled and reached out a hand to me. I felt nothing as it went straight through. "You're my daughter…you wouldn't be so cruel as to send me back there."
It took me a moment to realize he was referring to his afterlife. It must not be the utopia he'd hoped for. I felt no sympathy for him, no concern. He'd made his bed, and now he must lie in it.
"Charlie," Seth urged. "Ask him what you need to ask."
"Where is this?" Frankenstein said before I could speak. "Where am I?"
"Lichfield Towers, in Highgate."
"You live here?"
"Yes."
"You've done well for yourself. Good girl. It's a large house?"
"Yes."
