Tunnel of Bones (City of Ghosts #2)(36)

It worked before, I think, forcing myself toward the rail. Fear claws across my skin—fear of heights, fear of falling, fear that this will work, fear that it won’t—but maybe fear is important. Fear goes with danger, with risk, the kind that draws poltergeists like moths to a flame.

I take a deep breath and get one foot up on the rail before Jacob grabs my arm and hauls me back to the ground, pale with fury. “What are you doing, Cass? Climbing onto a crypt is one thing. This is something else entirely. You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“I’m not,” I say, twisting free. “I just have to create the potential.”

“I worked hard to save your life, and I’m not going to let you throw it away.”

“I’m not throwing anything away, Jacob. I’m paying my debt. Doing my job.”

“Why is this your job? Because Lara said so? She doesn’t know everything. Even if she acts like she does. And I am not letting you get up on that rail.”

“Fine,” I snap. “I’ll think of something else.” I start pacing. “I just have to draw him out. There has to be a way to trap him, even just long enough for me to—”

“Enough!” shouts Jacob, all the humor gone from his voice. “Enough. Just admit why this is really so important to you.”

I blink, confused. “What?”

“The second rule of friendship is no lies, Cass. Besides, it’s literally all you’ve been thinking about since we got to Paris. So admit it. It’s not just Thomas Laurent you’re so worried about. It’s me.”

The words hit me like a punch.

“What? No, I’m—”

But then I hesitate.

I don’t think I realized it.

But he’s right.

It’s not the only reason, but it’s definitely one of them.

The truth is, I’m scared. Scared of Jacob’s growing power, scared of what it means. Scared Lara was right. Scared of not being able to save my best friend.

“Scared I’m turning into some kind of monster?” Jacob growls, his eyes getting darker, his skin beginning to gray.

“Jacob—”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but—”

“But you think I’m becoming the kind of ghost you’re supposed to hunt. Well, the kind you have to. I mean, I’m already the kind you’re supposed to, there’s no forgetting that—”

“Stop!” I plead.

But Jacob is shaking with anger. “And just so you know,” he says, “I still remember everything—everything—about my life, and the way it ended. I just don’t want to share it with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of your business!” he shouts, the hair rising up around his face, as if the air around him is turning to water. “Because I don’t want to think about it!” His clothes begin to darken, as if wet. “And I don’t want you to know because you won’t look at me the same.” His chest heaves, his shirt soaked through. “I won’t be the boy who saved your life, I’ll be the one who died, and—”

I throw my arms around his shoulders and hug him, as tightly as I can here in this place where I’m less solid and he’s more real. And for a second, Jacob just stands there, and I don’t know if he’s still angry or just surprised. And then the fight goes out of him. His shoulders slump. His head tips forward against my shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he says. “I don’t know what it means. It scares me, too. But I don’t want to go. I don’t want to lose you. Or myself.”

I tighten my grip. “You’re not going to,” I say. “You have something the poltergeist doesn’t.”

“What’s that?”

I pull back so he can see my face. “You have me.”

He smiles, a thin imitation of his usual humor. But it’s something.

I pull away, wiping my eyes quickly.

“Viens,” whispers a voice, and we both turn to see the ghost of a little old lady, hobbling toward us in a faded dress and coat, her skin worn deep with wrinkles. Her eyes are too bright, her smile wide and full of wooden teeth.

Jacob shakes his head, a nervous laugh escaping like steam as our world returns to normal.

How weird, that this is normal.

“Viens avec moi,” the old lady coos, one gnarled hand reaching forward.

Mom’s story comes back to me. The young woman’s body was found on the stones below. The old lady was never seen again.

“Viens,” the ghost urges, shuffling closer, and I’m very aware of the lack of railing behind me, the long fall.

“I’ve got your back,” says Jacob, putting himself between me and the edge.

I draw out the pendant from my pocket, lifting the mirror to the old lady’s eyes.

Her fingers close around my wrist.

“Viens avec …” she begins, trailing off as she catches her reflection.

This time, I remember the words right away.

“Watch and listen,” I say.

Her eyes go flat and empty.

“See and know.”

Her edges ripple.

“This is what you are.”