Page 177 of Dead Beat

She took a sip of her coffee. It had already gone cold. “Lauren wasn’t with you last night.”

“She went to New York for the weekend. I think she’s going to get a single next year.”

Alex couldn’t really blame her. Lauren wanted quiet. She wanted the peace Alex seemed incapable of holding on to. “What about you?”

Mercy’s smile was small and determined. “I told you. I want to be the kind of person who stays.”

66

A week later, Alex, Darlington, and Dawes drove to Black Elm to meet Turner.

Together, they walked into the woods and set the simple marble disc purchased with Lethe’s money over Tripp’s grave. It was carved with the figure of an albatross in flight and only two words.

“He was a good friend,” said Dawes softly.

Darlington put his arm around her. “That’s rare.”

“He was brave when it counted,” said Turner.

Alex crouched and bumped her knuckles against the marble, engraved with the words HE MATTERED.

Cosmo had wandered out to greet them, and he leapt into Dawes’s arms as if sensing she needed him most.

“Will he stay?” she murmured, cradling the cat close.

“After we exorcise the shit out of this place?” Alex said.

“Yes. Assuming we succeed.”

“I don’t know,” Darlington said. “There will still be a demon hanging around to keep an eye on.”

“Part demon,” Alex corrected.

He met her eyes. “Enough demon.”

When they returned to the house, they set up in the kitchen and began unloading the supplies they’d left in their cars.

“It’s eerie,” Turner said, “knowing…” He glanced around.

“That there’s a demon in the walls?” Darlington asked.

“Yeah,” Turner whispered.

“You don’t need to whisper,” said Alex. She banged a spoon against the pot she was stirring and shouted, “Your days are numbered, asshole!”

“Alex,” Darlington warned.

Somewhere in the house a door slammed shut and they all jumped.

Alex was grateful to see Dawes fall into her old rhythms, portioning out buckthorn, angelica, and soft fronds of fern, sending the rest of them out onto the grounds to draw salt knots and build a circle of protection. Darlington had discovered countless exorcisms on the books, but they were dealing with a demon who had been settled for a century, and separating truth from fiction could be a challenge where banishments were concerned.

Around noon, as they were grinding herbs and braiding together salt ropes in the kitchen, they heard a car coming up the driveway.

Alex wiped her hands and she and Darlington headed out the door.

“Shout if you need us,” said Turner as he tied up a bundle of sage.

“Before you need us,” Dawes amended from her spot by the stove.