I tore my gaze away, forcing myself to keep inspecting the room when what I really wanted to do was squeeze my eyes shut and back into the hallway. But I had to look. I could already feel the second body, the grave essence pulling at me.
The girl was a few feet from the boy, between the baseboard of the bed and the large-screen television. She wore only a slip that must have been tan or white when she put it on the night before. It was a dark brownish-red now. Lacerations covered her arms, her torso, even her face. Congealed blood matted her blond hair and had dried in flaking rivulets on her arms and bare legs.
I moved on. The way the girl had been facing, I couldn’t tell if she’d been running toward the door or the bathroom when she’d been . . . stabbed? That made the most sense, but I’d know for sure soon. Sprays of blood trailed across the TV screen, the walls, even the ceiling sported blood. The bathroom door hung open, but I couldn’t reach it without stepping over the couple. Whatever evidence might or might not be in that room wasn’t my concern—I was here only to raise the shades—so I didn’t bother trying to navigate to the bathroom. The carnage ended before it reached the back of the room anyway. From my vantage point just inside the main door, I could see an emerald green dress hanging in the open closet. She must have undressed before whatever happened began. I didn’t know anything about the girl, not yet at least, but I was guessing she and her boyfriend hadn’t been receiving visitors while she was wearing only a slip.
After taking in as much of the room as I could stomach, I averted my eyes. I’d missed details—I knew that—but I’d seen enough, more than I wanted, and for what they needed, only the bodies were important. Unfortunately, I’d have to move the couple to draw my circle. With their positions and relation to the furniture, there was no other way.
Unless I work without a circle.
Just the idea made my skin crawl. It was dangerous, but we were actually fairly far away from any cemeteries and the only two bodies I felt in the immediate area were the couple. Of course, I’d light up like a beacon as soon as I straddled the chasm between the living and the dead. And nasty things lived in that wasteland. I really didn’t want to encounter one of them.
“We’re going to have to move them,” I said, nodding at the couple while keeping my eyes averted.
“Is it possible to perform the ritual without disturbing them?” Falin asked.
“I can’t draw my circle. The bed is in the way.”
The three men conferred quietly. I meant to listen, but the two ghosts poking around the scene distracted me. Roy kept kneeling and pointing at this or that while Icelynne followed him, her dark eyes a little too wide. I couldn’t catch everything he said, but I clearly made out the words “arterial spray” and “signs of struggle.” Roy had been a computer programmer in life, and Tongues for the Dead didn’t typically work active scenes, so he had to be guessing, most likely based on crime shows, but Icelynne hung on every word he said, clearly impressed with his prowess as an investigator. I left them to it.
While I’d watched the ghosts, Jenson must have left the room, because he walked back into the door as I turned, two morgue techs behind him.
“Where do you need the bodies moved?” a young tech with a flush of pimples on his cheek asked.
I glanced around the room. I wanted to disturb the scene as little as possible, which meant I didn’t want to walk—or draw my circle through—any of the blood. I probably shouldn’t move the furniture either if I could help it. It was going to have to be a very small circle. Fine by me, but I still needed enough clear space to do it. It was a nice hotel, but the room was far from large.
I pointed to the largest clear spot in the room. One of the techs spread a drop cloth—which I hadn’t even considered before—and then the techs moved first the boy and then the girl side by side on the cloth. They were both in full rigor mortis, so while the techs tried to lay the boy on his side, the position was unnatural, his knees bent and arms and head curled forward like the overanimated pose of someone pretending to be scary for the benefit of a child. The girl was just as stiff, her legs twisted at awkward angles and one arm up as if she’d been shielding her face, but at least she lay flat.
Once the bodies were moved, I pulled out my wax chalk and drew my circle tight around the couple, being sure to keep to the drop cloth. I actually stood on the outside to draw it, because inside the circle the open spaces were too narrow and awkward for me to squat while ensuring I didn’t accidentally brush against the bodies.
With my circle drawn, I glanced at Falin, John, and Jenson. “Ready?”
John nodded and pulled out a camera that I guessed shot still and video based on the small red light that began blinking when he hit a silver button on top. I doubted the video would be as good as what was shot at the morgue, but it would do to document the ritual.