I touched the crystal locket to my lips. And pulling the cord holding the signum Vincent had given me over my head, I added the memento mori locket to the ancient symbol of the revenants and tucked them back under my shirt.
Hearing a knock at the door, Jeanne and I turned to see Gaspard leaning in, his hair sticking out like an explosion. “Ah yes . . . excuse me for interrupting.” He averted his eyes as if allowing us to finish in privacy.
“It’s fine, Gaspard. I had just finished showing Kate my boxes.”
“Yes, yes. Good, good.” Gaspard nodded, tugging nervously on the hem of his jacket, straightening what was already ironed to perfection. “Your grandmother is ready to leave, Kate, and wishes you to go with her.”
I kissed Jeanne and followed Gaspard to the armory, where we collected Georgia and walked the long hallway to the foyer.
“We’re walking to the gallows,” Georgia said. “I wonder if she’ll ever let us leave the apartment again.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Gaspard murmured, but didn’t say anything else.
We found Mamie at the front door, her mood much improved. “So tell me,” she was asking Jean-Baptiste, “regarding the portrait of your ancestor that I restored: Was the sitter actually you?”
“Oui, madame,” the older revenant acquiesced.
Mamie nodded, studying his face. “Well, even though I know there is magic involved, I must say I am terribly impressed at how well you’ve kept yourself,” she remarked admiringly.
She turned, hearing us approach. “There you are, mes enfants,” she said, the stern look returning to her face. “Come along now. We will discuss everything with your grandfather when we get home.”
Gaspard held the door open, and Georgia and I stepped out, Mamie shooing us ahead like a mother hen. Lacing her arms through ours, she turned to say good-bye.
“I look forward to meeting your husband one of these days,” Jean-Baptiste said.
“I’m not sure he feels the same way,” Mamie remarked with an amused gleam in her eye, “but I will have a talk with him and we will see how things develop. In the meantime, I thank you for your offer of protection. I will be in touch.”
“As you wish, madame,” Jean-Baptiste responded. “You are in complete control of the manner in which things proceed between your family and mine. Just give me the word and I will provide whatever you request.”
“Merci, cher monsieur,” Mamie said, nodding elegantly, and then turning, led us toward the gate.
I knew we were fine when we passed the fountain and Mamie, unable to help herself, lifted a finger toward the angel and his lovely burden. “Did you notice that spectacular example of Romantic-era sculpture, Katya? The diaphanous quality of the woman’s dress could only have been achieved by a great master. Surely not Canova himself. But, then again, I wonder. In any case, truly exquisite.”
Mamie’s fury had passed. I smiled. “Yes, Mamie. I’ve noticed it before.”
NINE
PAPY WAS WAITING ANXIOUSLY IN THE KITCHEN when we walked in, toying with an untouched cup of tea. “It’s time for us all to have a talk,” Mamie announced before Georgia and I could escape to our bedrooms. She herded us into the salon, gesturing at the chairs she wanted us to take.
I hadn’t seen Papy since everything had happened. He glared at me, his features broadcasting anger, fear, and disappointment. “To say that I am furious would be a wild understatement,” he said, clutching the arms of his chair.
“I’m so sorry, Papy,” I said, meaning it.
He sat there looking hurt for another moment, and then all at once he was like a balloon deflating. He leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes, his look changing in a second from “force to be reckoned with” to “tired elderly man.”
He opened his eyes and focused on me. “When I forbade you from seeing Vincent it was for your own protection. Not so you would throw yourself into the midst of a supernatural battle.”
“There were bigger things going on than just me and Vincent, Papy,” I explained. “His whole house was in danger and I thought I knew who was betraying them.”
“Damn his house,” Papy stated succinctly, his anger returning.
Georgia broke the silence. “Vincent’s kind of a nonissue now, Papy, having been reduced to basically a ghost.”
My chest tightened as she said it. Though I was already fully aware of the situation, it somehow made it worse to hear it stated so directly.
“I told your grandfather what happened yesterday,” Mamie clarified.
Papy huffed to show that though he was informed he still didn’t approve, but his stern look softened a little.
“Okay,” I conceded. “Take Vincent and his house out of the equation. We’ll just talk about our house. About me.” I steadied my voice. Getting emotional was not going to help my case.
“If you remember, Papy, the numa who showed up at your gallery weren’t after Vincent. They were after me, because one of his kindred had informed them I killed their leader. I was sure I knew who had told them. And Georgia and I went to prove it.”