Don frowned. “Your people?”
“Tate, Juan, Dave, and Cooper,” I supplied. “They’re considered Bones’s under vampire law. More importantly, they’re our friends. You know they’ve been missing. Well, Madigan claims they were killed on a job, but he’s lying, which means they’re in serious trouble.”
The air didn’t move despite the heavy sigh Don let out.
“I wanted you to investigate their disappearance because I’d hoped they’d deserted their posts and were hiding from Madigan. Or were deep undercover, or even had died on a mission. Anything but this, because if Madigan has them, then by now, they probably are dead.”
Only his lack of a solid form kept me from shaking him. “Or they’re alive, trapped somewhere, and expecting us to do something.”
The look he gave me was so filled with sadness that I almost missed the other emotion flitting across his face. Shame.
“When Madigan took over my old job, I feared he might try this, but I didn’t expect it so soon. I’m sorry, Cat. There’s nothing you can do. Neither can I. Madigan’s no doubt ghostproofed that building, too.”
“What building?”
The two words seethed with threat. So did the stare Bones lasered at Don. Both should’ve scared my uncle into answering with the truth. Instead, he sighed once more.
“If you ever get close to Madigan again, kill him. You can’t save Tate and the others, but you can avenge them and save others like them if things haven’t progressed past that already.”
Then, before I could ask him what the hell he meant by that, he disappeared.
“Wait!” I shouted.
Nothing. Not even a chill in the air remained. Bones swore, but I shoved the planchette at Tyler and tossed another thimbleful of Don’s ashes onto the Ouija board.
“Bring him back. Now.”
“Cat,” Tyler began.
“Do it,” Bones said curtly.
Tyler muttered something about how unreasonable vampires were, yet once again, he invoked Don’s spirit to return. He did, but after a few seconds of stony silence while I railed at him, my uncle disappeared. We repeated the same process again and again with the same result. It was the supernatural equivalent to being repeatedly hung up on.
“Can’t you do something to make him stay?” I fumed.
Tyler gave me a sardonic look.
“I tried to tell you I couldn’t, Mr. and Mrs. Impatient, but you wouldn’t listen. There’s only one way to make a ghost stay if he doesn’t want to, and you remember what a pain in the ass that was. Besides, you really want to lock your uncle inside a trap?”
At the moment, the idea held definite appeal. Knowing Don, however, he’d remain stubbornly silent even if we did lock him in an escape-proof ghost cell. Plus, making one would take too long. From the few bleak hints Don had given us, Tate and the guys were in lethal trouble. We had to act now, but I didn’t know what to do. Tyler was our expert, and he was out of ideas.
“This makes no sense,” I continued to rant. “Don’s the one who warned us that Tate and the others were missing, yet now that we’ve confirmed Madigan’s got them, he’s refusing to help us! I don’t understand it.”
Bones tapped his chin, his expression both furious and determined.
“I do. Means Don would rather see people he cares about die than reveal what he knows about Madigan, but there is one person who can force your uncle to talk.”
“Who?” I wondered. Then comprehension dawned. “Of course! No one knows more about ghosts than Marie Laveau, and with all that grave power in her, there’s nothing she can’t make Don do.”
I should know—I’d once experienced Marie’s abilities after she forced me to drink her blood. The memory made me shudder. Having a direct line to the other side was more power than anyone should have.
Bones shot me a grim look. “What concerns me is what she’ll want in return. Marie does nothing without extracting a price.”
That concerned me, too. The last time I’d seen Marie hadn’t exactly been friendly if you counted the fact that both of us had threatened to slaughter each other.
“Hold on a minute.”
Tyler stood up, a huge grin splitting his face. “Are you two talking about Marie Laveau, the voodoo queen of New Orleans who supposedly died over a hundred years ago?”
“The very same,” I said, weary all of a sudden.
Tyler clapped his hands with the pure joy of a child. “This is going to be so fun!”
Now suspicion replaced my weariness. “What is?”
He ignored me, scooping up Dexter and grunting at the dog’s weight. “Don’t worry, baby, Daddy’s not leaving you behind.”
“Neither one of you are going anywhere,” Bones said flatly.
Tyler looked at him as though he were the one who’d just lost his mind.