“Even though your ‘life’ as a numa didn’t start until Violette had you picked up at the morgue,” Georgia adds.

We all stare at her. “What?” Georgia asks innocently. “I do my homework. Especially if it includes juicy gossip. And your story is a hundred percent pure juice, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I’m...flattered?”

“Of course you are,” Georgia says, winking. “I’m on your team by the way. Bardia Louis, all the way.”

“There are teams?” I ask, feeling a twinge of panic.

“Don’t pay attention to her,” Charlotte says. She gives Georgia a mild look. “Hey, Arthur says he sees something shiny over there.”

Georgia rolls her eyes. “Ha, ha. As if I could be so easily distracted.” But she can’t help glancing around and whispering, “Where?”

Let’s go. I hear amusement in Arthur’s volant voice.

As we amble north from the merry-go-round into the jumble of streets beyond, Charlotte says, “I know you’ve spoken to Kate about your past. But she’s careful about guarding people’s privacy, so I don’t really know much. You feel like talking?”

I glance at Siaka and wonder what this information will do to his image of me. “You sure you want to hear? It’s not pretty.”

“We’re dead,” Charlotte replies. “None of us have pretty pasts.”

“Except me,” Georgia interjects. “I mean, the dead part. My past isn’t that pretty either.”

Bran had told me her story. She once dated Lucien, then the head of Paris’s numa, and almost got everyone destroyed.

I spent centuries enabling a psychopath, Arthur adds.

Siaka remains silent, but grins. Well-acquainted with the group, he’s enjoying the show.

“Point taken,” I say. “Okay...well...my dad disappeared when I was nine. Mom did what she could to support me and my brother and sister, but when I was thirteen, she met a man named Frankie who promised to take care of us. As soon as he moved in, he quit his job and split his time between drinking beer on the couch and going out with his friends. He was a violent drunk. When he and Mom fought, she had me lock myself in the bedroom with my brother and sister.” I feel my throat constricting and take a deep breath before continuing.

“One day, I came home early to check on my sister who had stayed home sick from school. There was a man in our bedroom, watching her sleep. It turned out Frankie made his beer money by selling drugs, and this was one of his clients. I told my mom, and she threatened to kick Frankie out. He responded by giving my brother a broken arm and my mom a black eye.