Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(52)

Because that was what a Walker was. Someone, at some point, had stolen the barest bit of these people sitting around the table with me right now. They had taken their essences from them—using the direct contact needed—and put those essences into the bodies of the dead to create walking and talking versions of the individuals. With one mastermind behind it all. Licking my dry lips, I cleared my throat and glanced down at the notepad in the extending silence. “That about sums it up.”

Staring at the blank page, I murmured, “We have a real situation outside the Temple. The target appears to be me for some reason, since I was the one befriended and used as a gateway into the Manor. The point being, whoever was behind it didn’t try to kill us. That wasn’t the objective. The spirit behind this wanted us to trust him through Leric. I have no clue why the spirit chose him, other than he has the most magic inside his essence, which may be the only reason.”

I licked my lips again. “Anyway, I’ve already noticed marked differences with some of you compared to the Walkers. With your help, if you’ll answer a few questions I have, I could possibly narrow down when the spirit touched you.” Nibbling at my bottom lip, I peered up to the silent spirits. “Would you all be willing to answer those questions?”

Slowly, they all nodded.

Except for the One, again. He was sitting completely mute, watching me like…well, like a tiger. So much so, I could feel his keen eyes roving my face, not missing any tiny detail. I turned my attention directly to Roselle. “Your hair. When did you have it waist-length last?”

Her eyes widened. “That was at least…” She glanced to Reese. “What, maybe, ten years ago?”

He nodded. “My wife’s hair’s been short for some time.”

I nodded, jotting her name down on a blank page and marking it with ten years. I leaned over the table a bit, glancing across to where Mr Damon sat. I asked, “Who would think you shy? Or more importantly, have you ever been the quiet type? And if so, when?”

He actually started laughing. “Dear God, I’ve never been shy.”

I eyed him carefully. “What do you do here at the Temple?” I ran my gaze over his face. “Your job, I mean?”

Instantly, his gaze hooded the barest bit. But he still grinned. “I work as an accountant.”

“Mmm.” I cocked my head. “And…you just became your Walker.” I smiled sweetly even as he stared back in a cool, even manner. I pointed my pencil absently in his direction. “Why don’t you think a bit if someone powerful, or disgruntled, left your accounting firm ten or more years ago while I continue.” It was more a demand, less a question.

My gaze altered to Mrs Damon. “How long has it been since you got that ring?” I pointed to her finger with the wedding band, which I hadn’t noticed on her Walker’s finger. The damn diamond was huge, sparkling to the point it almost blinded me as she tapped her fingers on the table.

Her eyes rounded. “Over a hundred and fifty years ago.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, my brows pinching together. “Do you take it off often?”

Mrs Damon sniffed, her voice clipped. “Never.” Her fingers stopped tapping. “Well, when I have it cleaned I do. Other than that, I never take it off.”

My own fingers tapped on the table as I wondered what the hell that was about, and I peered back to Mr Damon, twirling my pencil at my head. “While you’re thinking of those who quit your firm, try to think of someone who wouldn’t want that honking diamond on her Walker’s finger.”

Set with determination, I glanced to the One’s nose. He still sat completely silent, watching me, with those two fingers covering his mouth. “Your hair. When was the last time you wore it down to your shoulders?” I pointed at his head with my pencil. “And without the braids?”

He was silent for an overly extended amount of time, and his mom glanced at him, huffing when he still stayed quiet while he gazed at me. Mrs Damon peered directly at me, answering for him, “He had his hair like that about twelve years ago. He’s been cutting it shorter and shorter ever since.”

Attention on her, I responded, “Thank you.” I quickly jotted that down then flipped the pad of paper over. I was done asking my questions and on to the other set not my own. I read the first question the Kings and Elders had written. A bubble of laughter slowly escaped, and I quickly slapped a hand over my mouth, stopping it and shaking my head. I marked through the question aimed toward the One, courtesy Elder Zeller, not about to ask that.

Roselle asked, “Is there an issue?”

“Nope,” I mumbled behind my hand, reading the next question. I choked, coughing hard, and had to hold up a finger at the group. “If you’ll just give me a moment, I need to,” I scratched out the next offensive question, “re-read my notes here.” What the f*ck were they thinking? “Um…” Another scratch through a question. “I think…” I choked again at the next question, courtesy King Collins. “Yep.” I placed the notepad face down on the table, my left palm firmly over it. “I’m done with my questions.”

And yeah, I received more than a few odd considerations.

I lifted my chin the barest bit and glanced to Mr Damon. “Any clue who the powerful spirit may be?”

“Actually, I do have an idea—”