Betrayal - By Lee Nichols Page 0,36

she was, and quicker. She was good with a dagger, but she could never best me.

Neither have I, I said glumly.

But you will. Hold it like this.

Wait. You think I can beat you? Tell me more. I like that idea.

He shot me a look. If you can’t beat me, you can’t beat Neos. And you will beat Neos. So try this. He moved my hand into a different position, and I tried not to wince as the touch of his fingers burned my own. And remember, it’s not a sword.

He showed me how to slash and thrust, to feint and wrestle with my off-hand. We spent an hour on deflecting blows and counterattacking. I didn’t see how a dagger could ever stand against a sword, but the Rake ignored my complaints and just attacked me again. He explained I needed to get close and up-cut through the heart of a wraith, or through the empty eye sockets.

He didn’t let me stop until I managed to slam him in the temple with the dagger’s hilt in a quick reverse.

Well done, the Rake said, rubbing his head.

That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. I licked the blood from a cut on my hand. But I still don’t see how a dagger’s better than a sword.

When you fight in earnest, you’ll infuse the blade with your powers, he said. Stay safe. He faded out.

Upstairs, I bandaged the cut on my hand, wondering if the Rake knew that he’d echoed the last words Bennett had said to me. Not for the first time, I pondered how much our lives were a replay of what came before. And what did that mean for me and Bennett? Would he lose his ghostkeeping abilities, or were we destined to remain apart forever?

10

A few days passed, again filled with nothing but school, training, a macrobiotic diet, and homework. Then one afternoon, Simon greeted us at the door of the museum. “Change of plans,” he said. “Dress warmly.”

We shuffled upstairs to slip into wool socks and fleeces, then back downstairs into the kitchen to gulp green tea and chew trail mix, as Anatole looked on in dismay. Celeste attempted to soothe his offended sense of propriety, while Nicholas grinned at me over his Game Boy.

Lukas said, “Hey, ask the kid if I can have a turn.”

I blinked at him. “Why don’t you just compel him?”

“Because you’ll yell at me again.”

I asked Nicholas to share.

“Plus,” Natalie said, “I told him if he keeps being rude, I’ll tell everyone at school that the two of you are secretly dating. He’d be an outcast in like three seconds.”

Lukas snorted, accepting the Game Boy from Nicholas.

“Gee, thanks,” I told Natalie.

“No problem.”

Simon called from the front hall. We found him waiting at the door, dressed in an olive turtleneck and his long camel coat. He greeted us by saying, “I’m sure Emma’s told you about the message from her brother.”

Natalie nodded, but Lukas complained. “What? I didn’t even know she had a brother.”

“That’s ’cause you’re an idiot,” Natalie murmured.

“For the last time, I am not an idiot!”

“Children,” Simon said.

They shut up, and I filled in Lukas about Max sending me a message. “So where are we off to?” I asked, as I shrugged into my black peacoat. “Did you find Neos’s burial site?”

“No,” Simon answered. “We’re on a fact-finding mission.”

“Intriguing,” Lukas mocked.

As usual, Simon ignored him. “The last time a ghostkeeper visited this place, he was killed by wraiths.”

“Really?” Lukas cracked his knuckles. “That’s more like it.”

“Where?” Natalie asked, frowning. Lukas had never dealt with a wraith before; he was excited at the prospect, but Natalie and I knew better.

“The mausoleum,” Simon said.

“What mausoleum?” Lukas asked, handing the Game Boy back to Nicholas, who’d followed us.

I opened the front door. “The place where Neos stole my mother’s amulet.”

“What amulet?” Lukas asked. “Why do I always feel like I’m missing key pieces of information?”

Natalie grinned. “Because you’re an—”

“Don’t say it!”

Simon sighed. “Just get in the car, you two.”

The car was an electric blue Yaris. Lukas called shotgun, and Natalie and I squeezed into the back while Simon drove.

“Couldn’t the Knell afford something better than this?” Natalie asked, her knees pressing into Lukas’s seat. “It has that rental-car smell.”

“Yeah,” Lukas said. “Like old shoes and popcorn.”

“Nah. That’s movie-theater smell,” Natalie said. “This is more like baby wipes and tuna fish.”

“Can you imagine if we showed up at school in this thing?” I asked, thinking of Sara’s BMW.

“I’ve seen worse in the parking lot,” Lukas