The problem is: Cadaver dogs don’t make mistakes. At most, they’ll sometimes get confused by a pig cadaver.
You may see where I’m going with this.
If everything goes right on this job, we won’t have to worry about hiding a body, because if we did, this method ain’t gonna work. It does, however, point out something interesting about human nature: Once people find a pig cadaver, they don’t go looking for a human corpse.
We were always going to get caught. It was only a question of how and when. Poppy and CJ are the pig cadavers. The trick the Coven discovers so they don’t go looking for another. We planned for this.
We just weren’t expecting Aunt Thea.
CJ hasn’t seen their great-aunt Thea since they were thirteen, but they have the Melinas brow and also haven’t changed their facial expression since 2010, so.
And like I said—Thea can read minds.
This is, of course, not a problem I have to solve, because even if I solve it, I have no way of relaying my solution to CJ and Poppy in the second row. It’s their job to come up with a solution. My job is to be ready to react to whatever happens next.
Hecate and Thea step up to the guest seated to the far left of the first row. It’s a young woman in a really cool suit with a corseted waistcoat and some kind of bustle on the jacket. (Ooh! A bustle would have been an excellent way to sneak in the fake grimoire! Too late now, I guess. Next time.) The woman hands over her ticket to Hecate, who waves her hand over it, much like Poppy did to check which batch was authentic. The ticket apparently passes inspection, so then the guest hands over a bone brooch. Thea’s multicolored eyes start to glow.
“What’s happening?” Rook’s question is so quiet I barely register it.
I swallow. “She’s reading the bone to make sure it matches the soul currently animating the body.”
Melinoë’s descendants are born with the magic of telepathy, but some develop talents that are slight deviations. Like CJ’s empath abilities. Thea can read minds, but she can also read bodies. Or in this case, human remains.
Even if Thea doesn’t recognize CJ and Poppy, and even if CJ and Poppy arereallygood atthinkingin character, Thea would still catch them. Since the bones we’re wearing are made of a polyurethane resin covered in oil-based paint.
Again, not my circus, not my monkeys. I mean, yeah, this isunquestionably my circus and those are in fact my monkeys, but I’m in a completely different ring trying to juggle chainsaws. This may not be the best metaphor, but what I’m saying is: You absolutely cannot be worrying about everyone else on a job. It makes you sloppy.
Rule #21: Eyes on your own paper.
The glow in Thea’s eyes dims, and she hands back the bone brooch. The first guest has passed the test, apparently. Hecate and Thea move on to the next, a woman with a collar of finger bones.
Rook leans into me. “What do we do?”
“Nothing,” I breathe.
“But they’re—”
“Their job is to get caught,” I snap, as quietly as I can.
Rook tenses, and I turn toward him so he can see in my eyes how serious I am.
“We. Stick. To. The. Plan.”
He swallows and nods.
Hecate and Thea move on to the third guest. At this rate, I imagine they’ll get to CJ and Poppy in five to seven minutes. Five to seven minutes for them to come up with a way out of this. Five to seven minutes for me to imagine possible ways Rook and I may need to adapt our part of the job.
Rook’s hand slips into mine, and I realize I’ve been fidgeting, flicking each of my fingernails against my thumb. I should pull away, but I don’t.
Here’s the thing. Sometimes you have to leave people behind. Going back for people, sticking your neck out, can get everyone killed. If someone gets caught, they either get themself out or they don’t. You have to leave so you don’t end up in the same situation.
Like how I left my brother.
I count breaths, running scenarios until Hecate and Thea get to the second row. CJ and Poppy are the fourth and fifth people down. I can see CJ’s knee bouncing. Poppy is checking her nails. The first person in the row passes the check. Then the second. Time seems to be speeding up.
There’s a certain thrill when you’re faced with the possibility of getting caught on a job. A kind of crazed glee as your brain flicks through possibilities to find the perfect solution. You start to feel invincible. That feeling turns to panic as you’re watching someoneelseget closer and closer to disaster. It takes everything in me not to jump up and yellSTOPas Thea takes the bone from the person to CJ’s left.
I take a breath in. A breath out. A breath in. A breath out.