Bridge of Souls (Cassidy Blake #3)(26)

“What are you do—” I start, but then he reaches for the doorknob, and there’s a giant crack, and for an instant the world goes white.

A giant, staticky buzz fills the air, and Jacob shoots backward several feet, landing in the middle of the street. A ghostly carriage veers, the horse rearing, as Jacob groans out an “Ow.”

“Jacob!” I shout, rushing toward him.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, smoke wafting off his clothes as he gets to his feet.

“What was that?” I ask.

“That,” says Lara, hands on her hips, “is promising.”

She approaches the door.

“Be careful,” I hiss as her hand hovers over the metal knob. She swipes a fingertip across the handle, and pulls back as if singed.

Then she spins on her heel and smiles. “It’s warded!” she says.

Jacob folds his arms. “Like the herbs and stuff designed to repel ghosts?”

“Yes and no,” she says. “This ward is much stronger. If I had to guess, it’s designed to repel anyone without an invitation.” She turns to me. “Which means you were right.”

And before I can savor those words, Lara’s already reaching for the curtain. She vanishes through the Veil, and I take Jacob’s hand and follow, past the rush of cold and into a cloud of heat as my feet settle back on the ground, the real world rushing to catch up.

We’re standing in front of the Thread & Bone. Only now, the door is gone, replaced by a red beaded curtain, and the sign has been touched up, and there, on the sidewalk, is a black cat.

Not just any black cat, but the one I saw yesterday, with the amethyst eyes. The cat looks up at us. If it’s surprised to see two girls and a ghost step out of the Veil and into the land of the living, it doesn’t show it.

It just yawns and stretches, tail twitching side to side.

I shoot Lara a look that says, See?

She rolls her eyes and says, “Yes, all right,” as the black cat turns and slips through the beaded curtain into the shop. It stops on the other side, looking back as if to say, Follow me.

And we do.





The Thread & Bone is a voodoo shop.

Or at least, it’s made to look like one. Every inch of space is covered in candles and crystals and charms. Silk scarves, and jars of oil. It looks like something out of Diagon Alley, and I have to remind myself that Harry Potter is fantasy, and this is real. Jacob follows me, holding his breath, but when he finally inhales, a small, questing sniff, he sighs with relief.

No spirit repellents inside.

Just a shelf of candles, tied with different colored ribbons. Dolls made of sticks and blank cloth. Bundles of unlit incense. A bowl of blue-and-white beads.

I slow down to look at a painting of a thin man standing at a crossroads. It reminds me of the Two of Swords, and I’m just about to step closer when I hear Lara say, “That’s it!”

We find her near the back of the shop, standing in front of a black-curtained doorway. There’s a symbol stitched into the dark cloth, an ornate S, set over a starburst.

Lara pulls a business card from her pocket and holds it up. The same symbol is pressed into the front. I recognize it, too, from the card that came with my sachets of sage and salt back in Paris.

The Society of the Black Cat.

My pulse picks up, and Lara looks almost giddy, but she takes a moment to smooth her shirt and run a hand over her braid. And then she reaches for the black curtain, ready to pull it aside, as if it were the Veil.

“You can’t go in there.”

We all jump, turning toward the voice.

There’s a young woman sitting behind the shop counter.

I swear she wasn’t there before. Or maybe she was just sitting so still, we didn’t notice her. But it seems hard not to notice her. She’s maybe twenty, white, with hair so blond it’s practically silver. It’s shaved on one side, and tumbles like a wave down the other.

“Can I help you find something?” she asks.

Lara steps up, taking control.

“We’re here to see the Society.”

“Society?” the girl says, arching a brow. Jacob and I exchange a look, wondering if we’re in the right place. But Lara doesn’t flinch.

“Of the Black Cat,” Lara says.

The girl stares at us blankly. The cat from outside jumps up onto the glass counter and purrs, its purple eyes locked on us. “This black cat?” asks the girl, running her hand over its fur.

Lara huffs. “No. Look—”

“Where are your parents?”

That tips Lara over the edge. “My parents are on their way to South America, and Cassidy’s are currently in one of your city’s forty-two graveyards filming a show on the paranormal—”

“Well, that sounds like fun!”

“And we’re here, because we need the Society’s help, and don’t tell me it’s not here because it was warded in the Veil, and Cassidy followed the cat, and I saw the symbol on the curtain, and it’s the same as the one on my card.”

Lara’s breathless by the time she slaps the business card down on the counter.

The girl lifts it gingerly, but the airy confusion is gone, replaced by a mischievous grin. “How did you get this?”

“My great-uncle was a member.”