She shook her head. “Not my area of expertise.”

“Does it even work? I mean, how can it?” I was thinking aloud again. “There’s no underworld in Jamaica, is there?”

“Oh, that.” A loop of iridescent coil rose to halt my drift. “Islands have their own rules, especially if they’re blood-soaked.”

“Ew.”

Lurine shrugged. “Where there’s blood and death in abundance, there’s necromancy. And islands are circumscribed by salt water. It concentrates the effect.”

“Well, technically all land is circumscribed by salt water, isn’t it?” I said. “I mean, oceans cover something like seventy percent of the earth’s surface, right?”

“Aren’t you the smarty-pants!” A submerged segment of Lurine’s tail gave the underside of my floatie an affectionate bump. “It has to do with scale, Daisy. I’m sure there’s some sort of formula,” she added idly. “Gallons of blood spilled per acre. The gods only know, there was blood and death aplenty throughout the entire West Indies during the centuries when the slave trade was flourishing.”

I shivered in the bright sunlight. “Okay. Enough said.”

“You asked,” Lurine reminded me in a mild tone.

“I did,” I agreed.

Pushing away from the edge, she sank beneath the water to swim the length of the pool and back again. Ensconced in my floating chaise, I rode out the surging waves generated by Lurine’s passage, gazing at the green treetops silhouetted against the bright blue sky and thinking about the terrible fragility of life.

Thirteen

Somewhat to my surprise, Sinclair wanted to keep our date to go to the Bide-a-Wee Tavern that night. The only difference was that his sister would be joining us.

“You’re sure?” I asked him on the phone.

“Positive,” he assured me. “Emmy’s looking forward to it. It will give you the chance to get to know each other.”

“Does she . . . know about me?” There’s really no delicate way to ask, oh, by the way, does your until-recently-secret twin sister know you’re dating a hell-spawn?

There was a pause. “Emmy’s like me,” he said. “She sees auras. I didn’t want to lie to her. We actually had a good talk today.”

According to Sinclair, most people’s auras were just little shimmers flickering around the edges of their bodies, while mine was a five-alarm fire shot through with veins of gold. If my memory was correct, Emmeline hadn’t shown any sign of surprise at it.

Interesting.

“Daisy?” Sinclair asked. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to lie to her, either. And I guess she had to find out sooner or later. Did she freak?”

“She’s curious,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t say freaked. But, um, it wouldn’t hurt for you to keep a lid on—”