“Can’t read her mind? I know that. I can’t follow her into her ghost-world dimension, either. That’s your job. I’ll just deliver her.”

“How? You can’t influence anything in the living world, so you cannot kill her. That’s my point. I understand that you want to stop the Nix before she takes more victims, but she won’t. Not right now. While she’s in the ghost world, she can’t harm anyone. We just need to wait for her to resurface—”

“So we just sit around and do nothing?”

His gaze met mine. “This has happened before and it will happen again. Both of the angels who pursued her faced the same problem. The Nix crosses back to your ghost-world dimension and they can’t find her until she resurfaces in the living world. All we need to do is keep an eye on this one.” He gestured at Sullivan. “When the Nix comes back, she’ll feel it.”

“What’s she doing?”

He looked at Sullivan, frowning.

“No, not her. The Nix. You said she crosses back all the time. And does what?”

He shrugged. “We don’t know.”

“Well, shouldn’t you? ’Cause she sure as hell ain’t sunning herself in the Bahamas, enjoying a well-earned vacation. She’s doing something.”

“It doesn’t matter. She can’t kill anyone—”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard that part. Listen, you want to twiddle your thumbs, waiting for her to reappear, you do that. You said she was in my ghost-world dimension, right?”

He nodded. “Having died in a witch’s form, she’s considered a supernatural shade, so—”

“Good. Then I’ll go look for her. If I need you, I’ll call.”

His mouth set in a hard line. Before he could pry those lips open to argue, I left to find a partner more to my liking.

Cleveland / 1938

Cleveland / 1938

AGNES MILLER WAS A ZEALOT. SHE WAS ALSO MAD. THE latter, the Nix reflected, often seemed a prerequisite for the former. Or perhaps it was simply an unavoidable result of the former.

Waxing philosophical. Not something the Nix was accustomed to. She blamed it on good eating. When the belly is full, and there’s no need to worry about where your next meal is coming from, the mind can turn to the indulgence of philosophizing.

“I need you,” Agnes said.

The Nix roused herself from her thoughts and peered out through Agnes’s eyes. They stood behind a crumbling wall, looking down at a man sleeping at its foot, a ragged blanket pulled up under his chin.

“Good choice,” the Nix said.

Agnes didn’t acknowledge her. In Agnes’s eyes, the Nix was a tool, not a partner—the only flaw in an otherwise perfect relationship. As flaws went, though, it was a large one, and becoming more frustrating—

“I’m ready,” Agnes said.