My stomach spasmed and vomit rose in the back of my throat. I gripped the edge of the seat. “Will you please tell me what is going on? Did you—did you just kill those guys?”

Marie took a bottle of water from the cooler and spilled it across her hands and face, wiping away dark smudges with the sleeves of her sweater. “I’m going to have to be more honest with you than I wanted to be.”

“No shit,” I said.

“Should I call Dr. Grant?” Nyx asked.

Marie nodded.

“Wait,” I said. “She knows y’all are out here killing people?”

“I wasn’t planning on killing anyone. But those people in the cemetery came after you, twice. All because they want what you have.”

“I don’t have anything,” I insisted.

Marie adjusted the skull-shaped agate on her finger and clasped her bloodstained hands in front of her. “The Absyrtus Heart.”

“A shriveled-up old plant?”

“You remember what I said about Astraea and how she helped me when I was sick?”

I could only nod.

Marie looked down. “She used the Heart to heal me.”

“ ‘Heal’ is not the correct word,” Nyx chimed in.

Marie rolled her eyes. “Roll up the partition please.”

“I think I’ll leave it down.”

Marie side-eyed her, then angled her body so that her back was to Nyx. “The protection of the Absyrtus Heart is tasked to your family. As a service to our community, they’ve cultivated plants, poisonous and benign alike, used in the work of conjurers, root workers, alchemists, witches, and others for as long as I can remember.”

The image of Astraea’s gravestone flashed in my mind. Her grave had been cleared, flowers had been left there, and her date of death had been 1680. I locked eyes with Marie. “What are you?”

“I couldn’t explain it if I tried.”

“I’m gonna need you to try before I flip.” Another wave of nausea broke over me and sweat dampened my back.

Marie leaned against the seat. “That illness I told you about, the one that made me so sick I thought I would die? It was plague. Some strain of the Black Death.”

“What?” I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying. “You’re telling me you got the plague? How is that even possible?”

“It was a long time ago,” Marie said quietly.

I was done trying to be polite. “How old are you? Because I’m really, really confused.”

“Three hundred and seventy-six.”

A high-pitched ring sounded in my ears. I thought I was gonna pass out. “No. Nope. Nah. Stop the car.” I couldn’t see straight. “Let me out.” I pulled on the door handle—I’d jump if I had to—but it didn’t budge. “Let me out!”

“Please, Briseis.” Marie put her hand on my shoulder.