Page 35 of The Exorcism of Faeries

“Tell me your name and I’ll stop opening the cadavers.”

“Nice try.”

He disappeared inside, and Atta tried with all her might to get as good a look as she could at the interior of the House before the door slammed shut. When it re-opened, a Black Stitch wheeled out a gurney, and the usual gangly White Stitch brought her a half-payment, more skittish than usual.

“Hey, does that Gold Stitch guy run his place?” she asked White Stitch conspiratorily.

He startled back a step. “You need to get out of here.” The lad fled and Atta returned to her car, counting her money.

When she looked up from opening the car door, a masked figure was sitting in her passenger seat.

“Fucking hell!” she spat. “What in hell are you doing?”

“I told you I need a particularly plagued body,” Gold Stitch said rather calmly if it wasn’t just the mask muffling and distorting his voice.

“And I told you, I don’t have aStage 3.” She threw sufficient mocking into the last words.

“Then let’s go.”

“Are you mental? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Get in the car, Atta.” The words brooked no argument, but that wasn’t why her breath caught. He knew her name. He knew her fucking name.

“No.”

His sigh sounded trapped this time. “It’s your car. You have the keys and I’m in the passenger seat. Who has the upper hand here?”

He had a point. Maybe.

She slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, smashing a fist against the dash

His head turned slowly toward her. “Was that some sort of fit?”

Atta barked a mad laugh and it seemed to startle Gold Stitch, to her great satisfaction. “It’s the only way the heater comes on. Old car.”

She turned in her seat to look at him, wondering what he’d do if she reached across and ripped the mask off. Probably kill her.We all have to die some way, Murdoch had said.

“Where are we going?”

“The campus cemetery.”

“What do you need me for?” she asked as they crossed the Liffey. “You’re a big lad.”

He was turned away from her, looking out the window, and he smelled of embalming fluid and cigar smoke. “I haven’t told the others about the flora, and told my anatomist you mentioned it to that you were mistaken.”

His honesty shocked her so much that she almost stopped the car. “Why?”

“I suspect some above me already know, but I like to keep my research close to my chest.”

“And how do I fit into this?” she pressed, turning at the next light.

“Those are Botany textbooks, are they not?” He pointed a black-gloved finger to the stack of coursebooks he’d had to move to the footwell when he invaded her car.

Grappling with a mixture of flattery and fear, she said the first stupid thing that sprang to her mind because of the scent filling her senses. “Do you smoke?”

The mask stared at her for a moment, the cherry street lights reflecting in his goggles and making him look comically ridiculous. “On occasion. Why?”

“I can smell it on you.”

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