why Gabriel brought her here? I’d been thinking about it all of last night. Relocating Trinity to Saint Amos was a risky move for the Guardian. So risky, I’m still trying to figure out why he’d do it at all.
If he was in fact such a close family friend, then there’s a strong possibility she might have seen him interacting with a Ghost from their church.
We’re not a hundred percent sure how he chooses the Ghosts he works with. We assume they’re all clergy members, but from a different diocese, or all from the same? I’d expect there would be nothing tying them together except Gabriel, and that he’d keep his distance.
Bringing a remnant from his previous life here, to Saint Amos, is not keeping his distance. Maybe he thinks he’s safe now, after all these years. But he’s never been reckless.
Until now.
Until Trinity.
But why risk everything…for her?
Unless his plans for her are short-term.
Because the only reason I can think Gabriel would bring Trinity here is because he knew she wouldn’t be staying. So where is the poor orphan girl headed?
My thoughts go to the worst possible conclusion.
Trinity isn’t here to finish out her senior year. She’s here to meet someone very special. Perhaps a few somebodies.
My gut tells me Gabriel is planning on introducing her to her very own Ghosts.
Chapter Six
Zach
I sit in Apollo’s armchair, and he sits beside Reuben. Trinity’s barely touched her drink, but every time I make a point of looking in her direction, she does at least take another sip.
Gabriel’s back tomorrow. There’s nothing we can do—short of breaking down his door—to speed up this process. And if that had been a possibility, we’d have done it by now.
There’s time to kill. I should be grateful for the diversion Trinity affords us.
Cass arrives with my things and sets down the bags alongside the back wall of the library. “Two cameras?” he asks a moment later.
“Couldn’t make out your handwriting,” I say, directing my voice at Cass, but staring at Apollo.
But he’s so busy scrambling off the sofa, I don’t think he even notices. I drop my eyes and let out a soft chuckle as I drain my whiskey.
It’s taken us years, but we’re finally starting to find joy in the little things.
“This is the one,” he says, snatching the offending box from Cass’s hands. “But I’ll keep this as a spare.” He tucks both boxes under his arms and looks about to leave.
“Sit down,” I tell him, holding my glass out for Reuben.
He comes and takes it, but instead of going to refill, he stops beside Trinity’s chair, his back to me. “Finish,” he says quietly, tapping a fingernail against her glass.
She cranes to look up at him, and slowly swallows down the rest of her glass.
Well, that’s one mystery solved then. I shouldn’t be surprised it’s him that she fancies most. When Reuben looks at you, it’s like you’re the only person in the world.
I think that’s what his Ghost liked most about him. It’s one thing controlling a little kid who can’t fight back, but controlling someone like Reuben? He’d always been stronger and bigger than the rest of us. Our rock.
That’s the funny thing about erosion, though. It weathers mountains. Reuben’s Ghost ground him to dust over the years. If we hadn’t escaped when we had, there’d have been nothing left of him, just an empty shell.
But what will Trinity do when Reuben realizes he doesn’t need to save her anymore? Because that’s around about the time he loses interest in people.
“This all you could get?” Cass asks.
I don’t have to look to know what he’s talking about. My trips to town are like Christmas around here because I always come back bearing gifts. Cass’s comes in a few dime bags that cost a fuck load more than a dime these days.
He opens the seal on one and takes a deep sniff. “Jaysus,” he mutters, grimacing. “You tell him he has to cure his stuff longer than a fucking day?”
“I’m not getting into a debate with your dealer, Cass.”
Trinity glances from Cass to me to Reuben to Apollo, her eyes flickering around like a nervous dragonfly.
“Did you know Jasper was gay?” I ask her.
I smile when she flinches at the sound of my voice and turns her wide, amber eyes on me. Rube brings me my drink and then hers. This time, she takes it without looking at him.
“No.” She lifts a shoulder, sipping absently at her glass. “But some things make