Four and Twenty Blackbirds (Eden Moore 1)

I pivoted and slammed the cabinet closed, then planted my hands on either side of the sink. The mirror splintered, leaving the image a fragmented, bug's-eye view, but I could still see Harry's tragic, haggard reflection in the mirror. His gray eyes were bloodshot and tired, but his jaw was set. He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

"Don't you understand, Eden? Before I came to Eliza, I was Father Harold Frazier. If they bring Gray back, we're all done for. You, your aunt, and me too. I'm a member of the order they've targeted. They're coming for us all. "

I looked down and turned the faucet handle. The pipes squealed and hissed, then finally provided a tepid stream that grew hot as I held my hands under it. "You're off your rocker. You ought to be out there with Malachi. The two of you could talk about God all the livelong day. I'm sure you'd have a fabulous time. "

"Eden, you can't ignore this. It's too close now. "

Steam was rising from the sink, and the water was hot enough to scald my hands, but I held them under the nozzle anyway. The broken mirror went damp and muted with white fog just the way I wanted it, and after a

minute or two I couldn't see Harry's pleading eyes boring into the back of my head. "It isn't true," I said, reaching for the soap in order to validate my use of the sink. "It just isn't true. "

"I understand that your aunt has been in ill health of late. "

I wheeled around and hurled the bar of soap at his face. It landed against his forehead with a wet smack before bouncing out into the bedroom and sliding to a halt against the wall. "You shut your mouth. "

"Call her, then," he insisted, wiping bubbles out of his eyebrow.

"Maybe I will!" I stomped past him towards the hallway in search of a telephone, but I'd barely left the room when Harry called out.

"Eliza doesn't have long distance. Use my cell phone. " He withdrew a small black phone from his trouser pocket and held it out to me. "Take it. Call. "

I snatched it away and began to dial, my fingers slipping on the rubberized buttons. I should've rinsed better.

No one was answering at home.

My fingers started shaking. Small slivers of white were stuck beneath my nails, rendering anything I touched a bit soapy. I messed up Dave's cell phone number twice, then managed to dial it correctly. I wrapped both hands around the receiver and pressed it against my aching head.

"Dave?"

"Eden, where have you been? I've been trying to call you for hours!"

"I'm—I'm sorry. Something came up and I left the hotel, but I'm all right," I couldn't help but notice Dave's voice was half an octave higher than it ought to have been. "What's the matter?" I asked, even though I surely wouldn't like the answer. My chest, throat, and ears began to congeal into one solid lump.

"Lu dropped tonight when we were out to eat. She's in the hospital. They don't know what's wrong with her. We were just eating at that Italian place, and she ordered a glass of wine, and I went to the restroom, and when I came back the waiter was trying to bring her around. She just fell over in the booth, and I don't know what's wrong with her. No one will tell me anything—"

Dave rambled some repetitive combination of the same phrases while I sank against the wall, clutching the slippery phone. Slowly I dropped to my haunches and put my head on my knees while I listened. I concentrated on a worn spot on the carpet. I focused on it hard.

"Dave, what was it? They must have told you something. " I was talking into my own lap, refusing to look at Harry, who had come to lean against the doorframe beside me.

"They don't know. They're saying it was just fatigue, or exhaustion, or whatever, and they're running some tests and keeping her overnight. That's just their expensive way of saying they don't know. "

"Did she come around at all?"

"For a few minutes. Long enough to argue with the doctors that she was fine, then say something completely nonsensical and pass out again. "

I stared down at my feet on either side of the worn spot, rubbing and shuffling on the carpet, playing idly with the edge of the rug. "What'd she say?" I whispered.

"Oh, it started out okay—she wanted me to call you. But it was what she wanted me to say that was all-out confusing. She said to tell you to find the man and save yourself. But that doesn't make any sense at all, does it? Does it?" In the background, all the static noise of a hospital came through. I heard a muffled name gargle across an intercom, and the rolling wheels of gurneys. It made my uncle sound all the more alone.

Bitter, hot tears welled up in my eyes. My nose filled up and made my voice all soggy. "I've got to go. "

"Eden?"

"Dave, I've got to go. I'm going to take care of it. "

"What are you talking about? Do you know something? Dammit, what was she talking about? What do you mean, you're going to take care of it? What are you going to do down there? And why don't you come home, like she asked you to in the first place?"

"I've got to go. But I'm going to take care of it. You tell her to hang on, and I'm going to go get him. You tell her when she comes home from the hospital, I'm going to be waiting for her at the door. "