I told myself this was nothing out of the ordinary. I’d seen owls in the cemetery before. But this one... The way he perched there, so still and knowing...
It’s not an omen. It’s not a harbinger of dark things to come. Don’t look at it.
But I couldn’t tear my gaze away. “Something’s up there,” I said.
Devlin lifted his head. “What?”
“The owl that flew across the path in front of you. It’s watching us.”
He was silent for a moment as he searched the branches. “So it is.” I felt his lips in my hair. “Ignore it.”
Slipping free of his hold, I turned to face him, lifting both hands to undo the buttons of his shirt until the silver medallion lay gleaming against his chest. The moment I touched the cold metal, I felt a jolt. Like lava flowing through my veins, lightning in my fingertips.
It would have been so easy—too easy—to close my eyes and let Devlin’s thoughts and emotions pour into me. To crawl inside his head and search through his memories until I discovered what made him tick. I’d always held a fascination for his time at the Institute and a perverse curiosity about his relationship with Mariama. Even dead, she loomed larger than life.
But I wouldn’t invade his privacy. I wouldn’t use that facet of my gift with Devlin because I still wanted to believe that we could someday have a normal life together.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as I drew away from him.
“Papa could come back at any moment.”
“He’s gone up to the house.”
“He could return, though.”
Devlin sighed and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You’re killing me here. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. He could come back.” He glanced over his shoulder at the trail. I could sense a sudden wariness in him, but I didn’t think he was worried about Papa.
“What is it?”
He searched the path for another long moment before turning back to me. “Nothing. Just making sure we’re alone.”
“We are. Except for the owls and the bats.” We stood very close, but I sensed a subtle distance between us now.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened tonight?” he asked.
“With Papa, you mean?”
“What did he tell you about Rose?”
“She was Papa’s mother. My great-grandmother.”
“That’s not a surprise,” Devlin said. I saw his gaze dart back to the path. “Even apart from your shared name, the resemblance is too uncanny to be a coincidence. Did he say why he’d never mentioned her?”
“Papa doesn’t like to talk about his past,” I answered truthfully if not altogether candidly. “He keeps a lot of things hidden.”
That simple observation seemed to give Devlin pause. His gaze brushed me for a split second before he glanced back up at the owl. “He isn’t alone in that regard. I sometimes think we Southerners have a predilection for secrets.”
“Yes. I sometimes think the same,” I said as I watched him closely.
It was a strange moment. A subtle acknowledgment of the barrier that would always be between us. I fretted endlessly about all the things that I kept from Devlin, but he was just as secretive. There were parts of his past I would never be privy to, like his time at the Institute and his membership in the Order of the Coffin and the Claw. The medallion he wore around his neck had been the emblem of secrets and dark deeds since the founding of Charleston.
“Why did you go to Columbia?” I asked. “Were you working a case?”
“No. The trip was personal.”
“Is your grandfather okay?”
“The trip wasn’t about him, either. And yes, he’s okay. There’s been no physical change. I’m meeting with his doctors tomorrow for a psych evaluation.”
“I know the two of you aren’t close, but this must still be so difficult for you.”
Devlin shrugged. “Dealing with my grandfather has never been easy. Old age hasn’t tempered his disposition or his demands.”
“Or his expectations, I imagine.”
He shrugged again. “I’m not here to talk about my grandfather. If you want to know the truth, I stopped by here to make sure you hadn’t taken off for Kroll Cemetery without telling me.”
“Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I can be more persuasive in person.”
I could certainly attest to that. “If you mean to try to talk me out of going, you’re a little late. I’ve already made arrangements to meet with Louvenia Durant tomorrow to go over the details of the restoration.”
“Then, I’d better tell you what I found out today,” he said grimly. “I drove to Columbia to meet with Nathan Fortner.”
“Nathan Fortner.” I searched my memory until the name finally clicked. “He’s the friend you mentioned before. The boy you used to explore the ruins with.”
“He’s an attorney in Columbia these days, but he also maintains a small office in Isola. The last time we spoke he mentioned that his firm had done some work for the Kroll family.”