Something about the way Odane looked at me made me feel uncomfortable, like he already knew everything there was to know about me and was still making up his mind about it.

"My aunt is wrong about this," he said, looking down at me. "I know she's trying to protect you, but that's only because she's scared for you and that's clouding her judgment. If this Thisbe is really going to summon Samedi, we don't have time for people to sit around and wait."

I didn't say anything at first. He was voicing everything I felt in my heart, but it seemed too much like a betrayal to speak against Mama Legba.

"I meant what I told Aunt Odette back there," he said. "My father probably could help with all this if you want him to."

"Mama Legba doesn't seem to trust him," I said, remembering the conversation at Odeana's house and thinking of the almost visceral reaction Mama Legba had when Odane said his name.

"She doesn't," Odane agreed.

"And you think I should?"

Odane shrugged. "My aunt has her reasons. See, she ba-sically controls the market on Voodoo in the Quarter. My fatherat least in the biological sensekind of runs things on the other side of the river, over in Algiers." His dark eyes met mine. "He'd do just about anythingand hasto get a foothold on this side, which is why Auntie O doesn't want anything to do with him."

"So, what, it's like some sort of turf war?" Lucy asked, peering across the car at Odane.

He didn't smile. "Something like that."

"No, thanks," I told him, because the way he looked at me told me there was more he wasn't saying. A lot more. I reached for my door, and he was forced to back off.

When I rolled down my window to let out the heat that had built up inside, Odane leaned down and rested his arms in the open space. "I don't know about this Thisbe person y'all are worried about, but I know enough about Baron Samedi to not want him anywhere around my part of the world. If you want it, you've got my help on this. Think about it," he said, his face only a couple of inches from mine.

He smelled nice, I realized, like some sort of woodsy, clean scent with the hint of something darker, like incense.

I mentally shook myselfI didn't have any reason to be smelling some boy, no matter how he might have looked at me like we were at the beginning of something. "Nothing to think about," I said, starting up the car. I gave the engine a little gas, just because I could, and when the Nova roared, I was glad I didn't have one of those eco-friendly cars.

But Odane didn't back up. His mouth lifted a little, like he was amused, but then the smile fell flat. "I'm not asking you to decide right this minute." He looked so damn sincere that I almost thought about it. Almost. "But whenever you decide, I'm willing to help."

"Or maybe you're willing to help your dad," I said, watching him for some sign that he was playing me.

He shook his head. "I'd be doing it for you, not for him." Something about the way his voice went all gravelly made me think he was telling the truth. Still ...

"I'm not standing against Mama Legba. I wouldn't do that to her."

"Even though she doesn't trust you?"

I didn't have an answer for that, so I gave him the sweetest smile I could and leaned my head closer, like I wanted to tell him a secret. He leaned in, like he wanted me to.

"Unless you want to lose that big, strong arm of yours, I'd suggest you get it off my car."

His mouth did pull up into a grin then, and damn if it wasn't like a kick to my stomach. So I did what any self-respecting girl would do. I pulled away without saying another word.

Eighteen.

Odane's words had me so unsettled as I pulled into the traffic of Canal Street, I mis-shifted. The clutch ground out its displeasure, and angry with myself, at Mama Legba for not trusting me, and for my mother for being what she was, I slammed the car into a higher gear and shot off.

I knew Mama Legba had a point. We didn't know anything about these visions, and with the other things that had happenedthe icy fingers trying to strangle me, the way something had messed with Lucy when she tried to dreamwalk at Mama Legba's, and the wind that had scattered the contents of Thisbe's box all over the floorI knew there was a good chance that there was something more to what I was seeing. But we were running out of time.

"I need to look at the other things in that box," I said, my voice tight with impatience.

"Good luck with that," Lucy said. "Mama Legba isn't going to let you anywhere near that box again." To my surprise, she sounded as frustrated about it as I felt.

"You don't sound like you agree with her," I said carefully, glancing to see her reaction.

Lucy frowned. "It's not that I don't think she and Piers are right to be worried about Thisbe. I probably know better than anyone how dangerous she is. I mean, I have some very vivid memories of her killing Armantine to get what she wanted, and I don't doubt she'd do it again ... "

"But?" I asked, prodding her to go on when she stopped.

"But, I think you understand that, too," she told me. "I think you've probably lost more than any of us, and you still have the most to lose in all of this."

I knew just how much she'd lost, so I couldn't quite speak through my surprise at her statement.

"I lost Alex," she continued, "and that about killed me, but I have to believe that I didn't lose him for good. I know that whatever happens in this life, he wants me to be happy and that eventually we'll meet again. But, Chloe, you didn't just lose your mom; you lost who you thought she was."

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, but I couldn't speak through the tightness in my throat. Because Lucy had nailed it. She understood.

"I can't even begin to understand what you're going through, but I think that you wanting to stop Thisbe makes you stronger than any of us. Mama Legba and Piers are worried about you because they saw firsthand what Thisbe did to you. I saw it too, but I think something has happened to you since then. I watched them cut off your hair, and I don't think I could have been that brave or selfless. Not without a lot of convincing and maybe someone to hold me down.

"And I see the determination in your eyes when we talk about finding Thisbe and stopping her. You aren't the person you were before all this happened, and I'm willing to bet on you being the one that comes out on top."

I let out a long, shaking breath. I'd been frustrated, sure enough, but I don't think I'd really realized what it meant to not have Piers believe in me until Lucy handed me her trust like a gift, whole and unsolicited.

"Thank you," I whispered, because it was all I could say.

"Don't thank me," Lucy told me. "Prove me right."

There was a tone in her voice that had me glancing over at her. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying that I can't have lost Alex for nothing. I need to see Thisbe stopped for his sake as much as my own."

I waited, knowing there was more to what she was getting at, but Lucy seemed to be wrestling with something internally. Finally, she took a determined breath. "I think it's time you saw Thisbe's tomb."

St. Louis Number Two has crypts that date back to the early 1800s. Like most cemeteries in New Orleans, it's usually filled with groups of tourists during the day, but it closes well before dark. After that, it's not really safe to go wandering around, because the dangers it's filled with have nothing to do with the dead.

Even during the day, the city's cemeteries are about my least favorite place to be. Once you get inside their heavy walls, the tombs rise up on all sides and it feels like they might topple over on you at any moment. The narrow pathways are often uneven, and there's usually a sort of hush that falls over the whole place, like everybody's afraid of waking whatever might sleep there.

Lucy had her arms wrapped around herself as she shuffled through the alleyways, trying to remember which route would lead us to the tomb where Thisbe had kept Alex. But as we rounded a corner, I knew which one it was before she even pointed it out. Where every other tomb in the cemetery was worn from the years of rain and wind and coated with a century's worth of dirt and grime, the tomb at the end of the last row we'd turned down was a brilliant white. It was covered in carved symbols that hadn't been touched by time, and it didn't even have the dark waterline that the others had to mark where Katrina had invaded.

"Is that it?" I said, knowing her answer even before she gave me a silent nod of her head.

The tomb wasn't any bigger than the monuments around it, but its thick columns made it seem fancier than the dull, aged marble of its neighbors. Rather than having the flat roofline of most crypts, this particular tomb was topped with an obelisk.

I took a step toward it, but Lucy made a sort of mewing sound that had me hesitating. "What? I thought you wanted me to do this."

"I did ... I mean, I do. We have to figure out what Thisbe's up to, but I saw what happened when you touched that news clipping. I'm just a little nervous about what might happen this time."

"You want to go wait in the car?"

She frowned for a second, like she was considering it, but then she finally shook her head. "No. If you go all glassy-eyed and start calling up a hurricane, somebody's going to have to stop you."

I couldn't stop the huff of laughter that escaped when I pictured skinny Lucy trying to hold back a hurricane. "Okay then," I said, grateful that she was still willing to stand behind me.

Slowly, I approached the tomb with my hand stretched out in front of me. I hesitated only for a moment before pressing my palms to the marble. It was warm from the heat of the day, and the moment my skin brushed against it, the sun went dark.

My skirts brushed against my legs as I pushed the heavy stone from the door and stepped into the coolness of the tomb's interior. The beam from the flashlight in my hand swept across the surface of the walls, revealing the charms that I'd carved bit by bit over the years.

A lifetime before.

I let the flashlight glide over the walls and felt pride and satisfaction heat my blood. I'd built this monument years ago for Augustine, and since then, I'd inscribed it with every bit of magic I'd come across in my travels. Every charm I'd learned and every spell I'd ever collected to summon the one I loved and keep what belonged to me safe were on these walls. At some point, it stopped being just for him and became a testament to my own power, my own life.

I traced one of the markings on the wall near me, a symbol that I'd learned in some tropical jungle years ago meant to ward off energies that mean a body harm. Another right above my head was a rune for resurrection that a powerful sorcerer in Egypt had taught me. He'd spent a whole afternoon showing me the order I was supposed to trace those lines, because he thought it would get me into his bed. And because he didn't believe I could ever use the power.

Men always thought they had the power, but most were all the same. All it took was a slow, inviting smile and they were yours. I never did get into his bed, and he never got out of itnot once I was done with him.

But the rune hadn't been strong enough. Augustine never came.

Finally, I let the beam of the flashlight fall on an altar-like table against the far wall. After all these years, the French boy's body was still there, still barely breathing.

I approached him with a sort of reverence for the sacrifice the boy had made. Not that he had a choice. That girlwhat had her name been?

It didn't matter. That girl had sealed this boy's fate the minute she'd walked through my door and handed him over all in the name of love.

Setting the flashlight on his chest, I aimed the beam of light so I could focus on what needed done. Then I took out my knife and unfastened the locket from around my neck. I let my mouth form the words I'd said so many times before as I sliced into the skin near his shoulder, watching the blood well.

The dark liquid seeping slowly from the wound was barely enough to coat the locket, and when I placed it around my neck, I could hardly feel the warmth of the power it contained.

Ignoring the shiver of worry that passed through me, I dipped two fingers into the blood pooling around the wound and called on the energy within it as I traced over the lines of my face. But the flash of heat I usually felt when the spirit responded was barely a kiss of warmth, and I knew that the connection the boy gave me to the source of all life and power wasn't working as it once had.

Even though I could feel the power in his blood transforming me, taking back the years that had gone by since last I'd visited him, I knew it wouldn't last for long. Not like it once had, when the energy I took from him could push back decades and hold off the years.

I should have seen this coming.

Panic raced through me, and I pressed my hands to the chest beneath the red string. Waiting for the slow rise and fall. Willing him to keep breathing still.

Until I could find another way.

I didn't know how much more time he had left to give me, and I didn't know how much longer I could wait in this skin.

Augustine hadn't come back yet, and I knew that he would have if he could have by now. Something was stopping him, or rather, someone.

Roman. I'd killed him three times already, and still he'd come back. That couldn't be a coincidence, and no single soul could have that much luck. There had to be a connection between him reappearing and Augustine's absence, but in all those lifetimes I still hadn't figured out what it was.

And now I was running out of time.

I'd figure it out, though. I would find a way to live a bit longer, to find Augustine. To make sure Roman was destroyed once and for all.

It was early afternoon by the time we got out of the cemetery and made our way back to Le Ciel. I gripped the steering wheel so Lucy wouldn't see how my hands were still trembling. I hadn't called up a hurricane or anything, but my muscles were achy and sore, like I'd just run for miles. Seeing Thisbe's life through her eyes was unsettling enough, but this time seeing her thoughts and feeling the desperation she felt to survive and the fury she felt when she thought of Roman had left me shaken and unstable. It reminded me too much of that part of myself that stretched and purred anytime I brushed against any sort of power.

"It was definitely more recent than the othersI was holding a flashlightbut I got the sense that what I was seeing still happened a while ago. She was starting to worry that the power she was taking from Alex was getting weaker, and she was scared. She knew she needed another plan, because she was convinced that Roman was connected to Augustine's disappearance somehow."

"So it's not all about Augustine?"

I glanced over at her. "No, it's definitely about Augustine, but I think maybe there's more going on than we first thought."

Lucy was silent for a long moment, like she was thinking things through. "Does that mean Roman could come back again?"

"Thisbe thought it was possible."

"Could he already have come back?" Lucy asked nervously.

"I don't know. It might be why my momma got the job at Le Ciel, though. Maybe she was waiting for him to turn up again?"

I took the off-ramp that led away from the highway and out toward the plantation. Lucy was quiet on the other side of the car.

After a few minutes, Lucy turned to me. "But if Thisbe's trying to get back at Roman, and Roman keeps coming back somehow, why would she need this Baron Samedi guy?"

I frowned, trying to think it through. "Maybe she wants something else from him?'"

"Like what?" Lucy said, letting out an overwhelmed-sounding sigh.

"Maybe she wants him to take Roman and keep him on the other side of the divide for good. Maybe she just wants Samedi to help her get Augustine. It's hard to know why anyone would want to summon him. But we have a lead, right? We can start with this Augustine. If we can find out exactly what happened to him, maybe we'll understand more."

"Right. I guess we can start by looking at those plantation registers."

"Byron is going to hate that," I said, thinking of how pissy he'd been when we talked to him the day before.

Lucy shrugged. "I'll bring him some coffee. He'll get over it."

Nineteen.

We were almost back to Le Ciel when I finally gathered enough courage to say what I'd been thinking about ever since I walked out of Mama Legba's shop. "I don't think I should stay with your folks anymore."