“And youknowthe shadow belonged to a prince?” Rome looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“So my demon said at the time.”
“All this time, we were under the impression he was hunting Amanda.” Jax glanced up from his phone. “But she wasn’t the only miracle worker around two hundred years ago, was she?”
“Travis was clear that she was,” Gigi disagreed. “The only one known to be alive, anyway. I’ll double check with him, though.”
“Maybe the shadow has been looking for Hinge all along.” I pushed myself out of the couch and started to pace. “He uses an alias. He has—had—a guard whose corruption taint drowned out his Divine smell. He hangs out where the Diabolical would least expect him.”
“And,” Mira added, “he’d been left for dead. No one knew what he’d done to stay alive.”
“It appears someone figured it out. Could it have been the traitor?” Gigi grabbed Jax’s arm.
“Things have been unraveling these past few months.” He took a deep breath as he put his hand over hers and squeezed. “There is no other explanation that I can see.”
“Until we know more, we have to still consider Amanda as a target.” Rome looked at each of us. “And not a word gets back to the Council about Hinge. In fact, the less people who know he’s a miracle worker, or even alive—sort of—the better.”
Gigi suddenly flapped her hands in front of her face like she did when she had a brainstorm.
“Draw your shadow, Kerry! Then ask Hinge if it’s the same one who did that to him!”
“We’ll have Amanda look at it, too,” Jax said. “Should have thought of that long ago. What if it’s the same one who petrified her?”
“Unlikely,” I scoffed. “As Clem said, Hell has a lotta princes.”
“We know at least one prince was involved with either Hinge or Amanda Greenaway’s misfortune,” he disagreed.
“We keep stumbling over one, anyway.” Rome lifted one shoulder. “Doesn’t hurt to see if it’s thesameone in all these stories.”
“Sure,” I said. “Lemme get my sketchbook.”
40. Albert Grenville Chesterton
Mira
Lilas came out of her bedroom and made a beeline to where Kerry sat drawing at the kitchen table.
“May I have thome milk or water?” She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles.
“Sure.” He pushed his chair back, but I intervened.
“You keep working. I can get it for her. Come on, ladybug.”
Lilas smiled and followed me. I’d just reached for a cup when Rome came in through the living room doorway, and Hinge tagged along behind him.
“Got any ideas for dinner?” Rome opened up the fridge door. “Since it’s my turn to cook, I’m open to suggestions.”
“Hand me the milk, please,” I asked him as I got a glass from the cupboard. “And I’ll help you. Just a minute.”
“Here you go—” He turned and almost knocked over Hinge, who had become a statue behind him. “Hey, Hinge, can you move?”
As the glowing dots in his eye sockets flared like violet LEDs, Hinge reached up and tugged on Rome’s sleeve.
“Her name,” he hissed. “Tell me her name!”
“Who?”
“What do you mean,who, idiot?” Who knew a skull could scowl so fiercely? “That darling little doll with Mira.”
