A Vial of Life (A Shade of Vampire #21)(47)

“Do you really trust that old yogi?” the witch asked.

Jeramiah’s jaw twitched. He grunted curtly. “Throughout all the years I spent in India, he was the only true medium I came across. He knows more about ghosts than almost any supernatural. Yes, I trust him.”

Doubt still flickered in the witch’s eyes. “It’s just that… I mean, you’ve been playing that thing every few hours for the last two days. How do you even know it’s called anyone?”

“That will soon be clear to me,” Jeramiah replied, his eyes settled on the memorial slab. “Now we must be silent.”

He lowered to his knees and tilted his head slightly downward before whispering words that sent chills down my spine. “Father, if you heard my call, make yourself known to me.”

He’s trying to summon… Lucas Novak?

Could it possibly be that my uncle became a ghost?

“Send me into a deep, dreamful slumber,” Jeramiah said, his voice slightly raised as he addressed the witch. “I need to make myself available.”

“What if somebody comes?”

“You’re a bag of nerves, Amaya,” Jeramiah said impatiently. “Just do as I say. We’re invisible, for a start, but if somebody comes, even in my sleep you can transport me elsewhere to safety. But I don’t wish to be unconscious for long. Watch the clock and wake me up in ten minutes. That will be enough time for me to know whether or not my attempts have been successful.”

Amaya gulped, then nodded. Jeramiah lay on his back, stretched out directly in front of the raised platform where Lucas’s memorial stone reigned over the room.

The witch fumbled her way over to Jeramiah and, feeling his form, placed both of her hands on either side of Jeramiah’s head. Flattening her palms, she moved her thumbs up and down Jeramiah’s forehead, slowly and gently, until it was clear that the vampire had fallen asleep. His breathing pattern changed, becoming slower, deeper, and the muscles in his face relaxed.

The minutes that followed were tense. Silence engulfed the room once again, leaving me to brood over what exactly Jeramiah was trying to accomplish by attempting to connect with his father’s ghost. And how did my cousin even get into The Shade to begin with? I moved closer to him, daring to stand just two feet away and stare down at his face, still slack and expressionless. The smoke in the room was beginning to thin now, and I could see all the way across the Dome to the other side, where the entrance was. I half expected to see the ghostly form of my uncle strolling through it, but as the minutes passed, I saw no such thing.

Ten minutes went by, at which point Amaya approached Jeramiah. She reached down and touched his forehead, making the same gentle motion with her thumbs against his skin. His eyes shot open, and he sat bolt upright.

I could tell from the dark look that took over his face that he hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and from Amaya’s expression, she had realized that too.

“Well?” she whispered.

Jeramiah shook his head slowly. “Nothing.” His voice was thick with disappointment.

“So what does it mean?”

Anger flashed in the vampire’s eyes. “It means that when my father died, despite the sudden circumstances, he did not become a spirit.”

Amaya frowned deeply. “I don’t understand how you can just draw that conclusion,” she said. “Any number of things could have gone wrong. To start with, what if his spirit simply wasn’t close enough to hear your call? What if—”

Jeramiah shook his head, causing Amaya to trail off. “No. If my father became a ghost, he would’ve been hovering near The Shade. When people become ghosts, they feel bound to return to where they most consider home. Even despite the hostile environment that my father had to endure while living here, this was his home, and the only place in the world where his soul could have found refuge. I learnt enough from my teacher to know this to be a fact. Even if my father took a break from the island, he wouldn’t have ventured far, and the call I made was powerful enough to have reverberated across the Pacific Ocean. He would not have missed it.”

Amaya paused, crossing her arms over her chest. She ran her tongue along her lower lip, as though weighing her next words.

“So what now?” She cocked her head to one side. “I think you’ve caused enough destruction to this place… You’ve replicated the sense of hostility that your father endured, both surrounding and within the island—first by using my potion to attract swarms of savage mermaids, and then burning the homes of the islands’ leaders to the ground. You also dishonored them further by destroying their thrones and using the wood to craft a memorial in honor of your father… Jeramiah.” Her voice and gaze softened. “You have done enough for your father. Wherever he might be, I’m sure that he would feel avenged. Let’s leave this place and allow his and your souls to rest in peace…” Amaya drew in closer and, feeling for Jeramiah’s arm, aimed a kiss against his jawline.

Jeramiah’s face was stony as ever, and he appeared unmoved. He remained rooted to the spot.

“Besides,” Amaya continued, “as you already reminded me yourself, Nuriya’s leniency only stretches so far. We have already extended our stay past the time you requested from her, and if you force her hand, I fear you’ll regret it.” She peeled back the end of her right sleeve and began rolling it up her arm. “I’m surprised our marks haven’t been burning unbearably already…I’m just going to remove my invisibility for a second.” After apparently removing the spell, she pushed the sleeve up high enough to reveal her right bicep. Gazing down at it, she gasped. I moved nearer to see what had surprised her, but I should have guessed… she no longer had a tattoo.