Page 22 of Witches of Dubious Origin
“No, I wouldn’t, silly.” She waved a hand at me. “I’m already dead, remember? I don’t need to sleep, and I don’t feel the cold, or anything, for that matter.”
Again with this. I refused to debate whatever she believed about her current state of being. I operated in verifiable facts. “If you don’t feel the cold, then why do you wear a coat?” I asked.
“Because people would talk, dear. The key to being undead among the living is to blend in.”
I resisted rolling my eyes. Barely. I was certain she’d left last night and had just returned very early this morning. Fine. Whatever.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” This was the big test. No one, not even a delusional zombie, could resist a hot cup of coffee in this frigid weather.
“I don’t need to eat or drink either.” Eloise smiled patiently as if I were thick and she was confident I’d catch on eventually.
“How can you survive without sustenance?” I protested. I braced myself for her to say she drank the blood of naughty children or something else equally horrifying.
Instead, her smile was kind and she said, “Magic.”
Naturally. Years of resisting all things otherworldly made me want to dismiss her words, but after opening a book with my own blood, seeing a metaphorical heart encased in a book, and levitating last night, I couldn’t. Still, the wordmagicmade my skin prickle and I was filled with unease. “I’m just going to finish my coffee and grab my coat and then we can go see those people I mentioned yesterday. I’ll be right back.”
Eloise nodded and turned to stare at the road in front of my house. I followed her gaze and saw the raven land neatly on my mailbox, where he turned his head and gave me a watchful stare. I found this oddly reassuring, especially since today had turned into take-your-dead-person-to-work day.
• • •
The quiet car on the train was full on this trip, so we sat in a different one, which was unfortunate, as Eloise was very chatty during the entire ride. Not with me, but rather with every other passenger in the vicinity. She asked where they’d bought their shoes, what streaming shows they were watching, why they were going to New York City, etcetera. Shockingly, most of the passengers responded politely and only two refused to engage.
A businessman, judging by his suit, got up and moved to another car and a young woman, who was clearly studying, met Eloise’s gaze and put large, sound-muffling headphones on. Eloise did not seem offended in the least. Perhaps believing she was dead made her less sensitive to criticism and slights from others.
I hailed a cab—not the same driver as before, which was a pity. This one seemed in no hurry and we meandered through the city streets until we finally arrived at the museum. I nodded a hello at the security guard Tina with the Taser and went to enter, but Eloise stopped to chat, because of course she did.
“Hello, I’m Eloise Tate.” She held out her hand.
Tina gave her an assessing look before she shook her hand. “Hi.”
“We’re just going to pop in for a minute to speak with…someone.” I didn’t say a name because I didn’t really know who could help me with this situation.
“I know. The director is expecting you in her office.”
I frowned and then nodded. “Of course.”
Tina adjusted the utility belt around her waist and patted her Taser. “You’d better get a move on. Sebastian told me to send you up right away.”
My eyes went wide. For no discernible reason, this sounded ominous. “Thanks. This way, Eloise.”
I turned and entered the building, leaving Eloise to follow. As we stepped inside, I saw the library and briefly remembered meeting the darkly handsome Jasper Griffin. I shookmy head, refusing to be distracted from my purpose. I crossed the dark entry and led the way to the staircase. I glanced at Eloise and noted that she was taking in the opulent surroundings with a wide-eyed gaze. I imagined that was exactly what I’d looked like yesterday. Yesterday. Had it only been twenty-four hours since I’d been here? It felt like a week had passed.
At the top of the stairs, the portrait of the Stewarts greeted us. They looked just as in love as I remembered and I felt a little pang in my chest. This museum was dedicated to the preservation of literature and I feared that by bringing in a family grimoire locked by a blood oath and a potentially undead woman, I was committing an affront to all that the couple had built here.
I glanced down the hallway and took a steadying breath. I had to focus on my purpose. If what Eloise had told me was true, then the only people I knew who could help me to help her were the staff members of the BODO. But if Eloise was some deranged prankster, then I was banking on Olive, with her deathly pallor and new-moon-at-midnight fashion sense to frighten Eloise into realizing she was not undead and needed to get over her fixation on my grandmother. Immediately.
We walked to the end of the hallway. One of the glass doors was propped open by a painted iron statue of a mythical faun holding a set of panpipes. I hadn’t noticed him yesterday and I wondered at his sudden appearance. I frowned as I entered the office.
“A gift from one of our benefactors,” Sebastian explained, correctly interpreting my expression. “I usually keep him hiddenin the closet because he looks like he’s up to no good.” He rose from behind his desk and walked around it to greet us. When I turned to check that Eloise was following me into the office, I saw the faun snap its teeth at her as she passed by. Without breaking her stride, she flicked its ear.
I pressed my cold fingers to my forehead. Everything was fine. Nothing to see here.
“Good to see you again, Ms. Ziakas.” Sebastian stopped in front of me.
“Please, call me Zoe.” I dropped my hand and forced a smile. “This is…uh…an acquaintance of mine, Eloise Tate. Eloise, this is Sebastian Hanover.”
I gestured to Eloise as she stepped into the office, her gaze darting around the room as she took in the elegant furnishings and Sebastian, who was as well turned out as he’d been yesterday in an olive-and-cream-pin-striped dress shirt over linen pants paired with dark brown leather loafers and a matching belt.
