Dante exchanged glances with Pris, which Jax found as entertaining as Evie apparently did. But he kept his mouth shut and chewed his bread.
Their guest shrugged and continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “The only people we could find familiar with the commercial shoots hasn’t worked with La Bella in years. They say the voiceovers and angles and messages have changed since the early ones, but the images could be any of the shots they took. They filmed a lot of material in that first year.”
Pris tore up her bread and crumbled it over her stew. “You think they’re photoshopped.”
“I know nothing of how one edit’s film, but if it’s possible, yes, I think Lucia hasn’t performed in years.” Dante put his fork down. “For all I know, Lucia is as dead as Katherine.”
Twenty-seven: Pris
“All right, they’re asleep.”Pris reluctantly returned to Evie’s front parlor where the rest of the family had gathered. Well, at least the ones living in Afterthought.
Aunt Mavis sat in the corner by the hearth wielding her tarot. She was the one who always took notes. Pris figured her psychic aunt preferred not to have her mind inhabited by Evie’s ghosts.
Pris felt the same way, but Evie couldn’t do this alone. Gracie was telekinetic and not too connected to other-worldly apparitions. Iddy, their veterinarian cousin, talked to animals, not ghosts. Iddy’s mother, Felicia, and Pris’s mother, Ellen, had limited afterworld skills as well.
“Is Loretta joining us?” Pris asked as she took a seat at the card table they’d set up.
“I think she’s still too young. What if we access a killer or rapist? She could be traumatized.” Evie threw a rainbow-striped cloth over the battered table—not exactly the usual setup for a medium. But Evie liked color.
“I told her she needed to guard the twins, so she’s in your room right now with books and games.” Gracie took a seat at Evie’s right. As a teacher with a daughter, she knew how to handle children better than Pris.
“It’s almost time,” Mavis warned. “Ellen, Felicia, take your seats if you’re joining in.”
Mavis was the youngest of the three sisters, but she was a born leader, more like Great-Aunt Val. With age, the sisters were growing more alike, plump, with graying, frizzy hair. Their heights and manner of dress differentiated them, however. Mavis was short and liked caftans and heels. Pris’s mother was medium height and favored drab cotton skirts. Iddy’s mother, Felicia, was the tallest and preferred leggings and tunics in colors even Evie wouldn’t wear. Living with the three Wyrd Malcolm Sisters growing up had been an ordeal, but Pris could appreciate the sheltering circle of family a little better now than she had as an adolescent.
She turned off the lights while Evie lit the candle. Taking a seat between Gracie and Aunt Felicia, Pris held their hands and did her best to block mental energies. If Evie conjured a ghost, Pris wanted to be prepared.
“Katherine Gladwell, Kit-Kat, we know you’re here. I give myself over to you to speak.”
Pris shivered at Evie’s words. Evie hated this part, for good reason. Spirits were often irrational. And the spirits they wanted to reach often got shoved aside by more aggressive ones. Pris only suffered the aftermath of séances, not a direct hit the way Evie did, and still she resisted them.
“Are you here, Katherine?” Aunt Felicia asked, taking charge since Pris refused to do so. “Knock on the table, if you can.”
The rickety card table shook. Any of them could have done that, but no one had a point to prove. Evie’s ghost was present.
Pris asked one of the questions they’d listed earlier. “Do you know how to find Lucia?”
They were hoping the spirit would speak through Evie, but KK was still reluctant. Or too stupid.
“Knock once if you know where Lucia is,” Aunt Felicity suggested.
The table rattled. Now what did they do?
“Knock once if she’s in the UK,” Pris suggested. No response.
Evie’s eyes were scrunched closed. Pris could see she clung tightly to the hands on either side of her. Before anyone could pose another question, Evie’s head fell forward, and she spoke in a voice not her own. “Italy. I am in Italy. I wish to see my bambinos. Where are they?”
A wailing wind rushed through the room. The candle blew out, and Evie slumped. Pris suffered the full mental impact of the ghost or Evie or both before the pain had her releasing the hands she held to grab her temples. “The twins,” she shouted. “Go to the twins!”
Chairs scraped and Gracie dashed for the stairs.
Pris needed to follow, but she could barely stand. With the aid of her mother, she slumped in the papa-san chair while Evie collapsed on the sofa.
“KK’s really agitated,” Evie said in a whispery voice. “Lucia makes her sad and angry. And she’s...” She gestured for everyone to shut their chatter. “KK wants to kill her brother Matt.”
Pris thought the more important takeaway was that Lucia wasdead, unless those were someone else’sbambinosupstairs.
Worse yet, she’dheardLucia, and the children weren’t her only concern. She needed to talk to Dante.
