realized that was why Beau and I were still waiting there. Smiling a little sheepishly, Odessa put the helmet on and waved at us. Then she practically vaulted onto the enormous horse, who responded instantly to her touch.
Chapter 9
Beau seemed like he would have been happy to stand there watching the horse and rider all night, but when Odessa returned to the jumps, he held his hand out, gesturing the way we had come, and we started back along the path.
“Odessa’s parents died in an accident when she was a child,” Beau explained as we walked. “Her two older brothers were nearly college-age, and they stayed with friends. Odessa came to live with me.”
“I don’t know much about riding, but she seems very talented,” I said, in what I hoped was a neutral voice. “It must run in the family.”
Beau turned to look at me. “Thank you. Yes, she’s a born horsewoman, but please don’t tell her I said so. We are having a disagreement right now over college.”
“She doesn’t want to go?” I asked, a little surprised. Odessa seemed like she’d be right at home in a sorority. Or maybe a cheerleading squad.
He shook his head. “She would prefer to take Deimos to the Olympics.”
“Really? Could she do it?”
“You mean, are they good enough? Yes, I expect they are. Last year they won a number of competitions, and began to draw a bit of attention. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the world began asking about Deimos’s owner and Odessa’s background, so I forbade any further competitions.” He gave me a wry smile. “Sometimes I think she deferred college out of spite.”
“I see,” I said, not sure what else to say. None of this seemed like any of my business.
Beau seemed to pick up the thought, because he added, “I apologize, Miss Lex. That’s not why you’re here.”
“Maven said you were having a problem with ghosts,” I said cautiously.
He frowned. “Yes. Someone is taking the Unsettled.”
Taking them? That was an odd way to phrase it. I’d never heard of anyone stealing a ghost. “The Unsettled?” I echoed. “That’s what you call them?”
He shot me a slightly confused look. “That’s what they are. The ghosts of battle.”
I felt like I was missing something, or like we were having two different conversations, but before I could figure it out, he had moved on. “Are you aware of Georgia’s history during the war?” he asked.
I didn’t have to ask which war he meant. It was pretty obvious that Beau still had one foot in his past. “Just what every kid learns in public high school.”
He nodded, his face disappointed but resigned. “Many, many ghosts were made during the siege of Atlanta, as you probably saw on your way here. It wasn’t just the trauma of a violent death—the dead also suffered the indignities of disrespect.”
I wanted to ask what that meant, but we had reached the driveway again, and Beau gestured toward the house. “Come, we can finish this conversation in my study.”
He led me through two of the massive stone pillars to the double door, opening the left side and ushering me in.
It was like stepping into The Great Gatsby. I have no particular interest in architecture or interior design, but I stopped dead for a moment, taking in the ornate grand staircase, the black-and-white floor tiles, the baby grand piano.
“If we have time later, I can give you a tour, but for now . . .” Beau pointed at a heavy wooden door on the right.
“Right. Sorry.”
I let him get past me, open the door, and usher me inside.
The office was brighter than I’d expected, with marigold walls lit by Tiffany-style sconces. The furniture was a warm cherrywood, and included a heavy desk, two visitor chairs, a couch, and built-in floor-to-ceiling bookcases on two of the walls.
“It’s beautiful,” I said in awe. As I turned to glance back at Beau, who was closing the door, I realized that the yellow-gold walls weren’t made of plaster. I touched one, and felt a spongy pad.
“Acoustic tiles,” Beau said proudly. “This room is soundproofed, even against vampires.”
I expected him to take the desk chair, but he sat on the couch, motioning at the other furniture. “Wherever you’re comfortable.”
I picked a visitor chair, turning it slightly so I could see both Beau and the door we’d come through. “Before we continue, can I offer you something to eat or drink?” Beau asked. “I have some whiskey in here somewhere, I believe, or I