Betrayal - By Lee Nichols Page 0,34

more reason did she need?

“Then I guess that makes you a girl who likes idiots,” he said.

She gave him that coy smile she does so well. “What makes you say that?”

I felt like a third wheel as they continued teasing each other the rest of the way home. I tried to tune them out, torn between hating Bennett for not contacting me and wishing he were here so I could do a little flirting myself.

After suffering through yet another soy-based dinner, I found Simon in Bennett’s father’s office. He’d trained us so hard that afternoon that we’d saluted and called him Sarge. Sitting on the little sofa, reading a book bound in gray leather, he didn’t look any worse for wear. He bookmarked his place when I came in, and the soft light of the lamp reflected off his glasses, making it hard to judge his expression.

“What is it, Emma?”

I stood there in the doorway, unsure where to start.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to one near him. “Would you like some chocolate?”

The offer surprised a laugh from me. “Have you met me?”

He smiled and handed me a bar of expensive dark chocolate. I broke off a square, popped it in my mouth, and savored the intense flavor as it melted, trying to gather my thoughts. I wanted to tell him everything, but he was still a stranger to me. And from the Knell.

He said, “You don’t know if you can trust me.”

I stopped chewing. “How did you know?”

“It’s only natural, Emma. You’ve been treated unfairly, kept in the dark for most of your life. But I can’t talk you into trusting me. That’s a decision you’ll have to make for yourself.”

“Yeah, I just— I need to talk to someone who knows this stuff.” I didn’t say anything for a minute, then made a decision. “I heard from Max. My brother. I don’t know if you …”

He nodded. “He’s missing, along with your parents.”

I nodded. “At least, now I know he’s alive.”

“Did he phone? It’s possible the Knell could trace his call.”

“They can do that?”

He tilted his head. “We have friends in law enforcement.”

“Oh,” I said. “He sent a ghost.”

“Really?” Simon sat straighter, listening intently as I explained. “That’s remarkable. I’ve read of ghostkeepers doing that, but not in quite a long time. I wonder how he learned to do it.”

“My dad’s library is bigger than this one.” I nodded toward the shelves filled with old tomes. “And Max read them all.”

“I think I’d enjoy your father’s library,” he said. “When this is all over, of course.”

“When is it going to be over?” I asked, praying he had an answer. Simon seemed to be training us for some specific moment, but never said what. Was he waiting for instructions from the Knell? Or for the moment when Neos tried to kill me?

“Let’s start with Max,” he said. “What did he tell you?”

I told him what the ghost had said about my mother’s amulet. I wanted to say more, but I couldn’t seem to find the right words. “And … um … I guess that’s it.”

Simon didn’t say anything for a minute after I finished, his brow furrowed in thought. Then he said, “Let’s talk it out. Neos needs some final rite to absorb the power from your mother’s amulet. He’s afraid of you, and plans to kill you. And he summoned a siren to weaken you, so he’ll succeed. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. Plus we need to find where Neos is buried, for some reason.”

“Perhaps that’s a point of vulnerability. No one knows what will happen to Neos when we dispel him.”

“So where is he buried?” I asked.

He frowned. “No one knows that, either.”

“Then how can we find him?”

He tapped the cover of the gray book. “I suggest we start with the mausoleum where he killed the man for the amulet.”

“I don’t understand why my mother’s amulet gives Neos so much power.” He’d used it to steal the powers of other ghostkeepers, by carving its designs into their flesh before he murdered them. And somehow it had allowed him to possess Coby.

“He killed himself over your mother, and a piece of her is tied to that jade amulet. Ghostkeeping isn’t a science, Emma. It’s magic. And love is another kind of magic—he’s bound to her. He also has some of your blood, doesn’t he?”

I touched the scar on the inside of my forearm, where Neos had cut me as a child.

“He’s bound to you, as well,” Simon said. “There are no