Page 71 of Dead Set on You
I feel the absurd urge to do a victory dance, because we’rein. Rafael’s still staring at me as if I’m on the cover ofWildlife Magazine, but I follow Helene into her house. And stumble to a stop.
“Oh, my …” I gasp. Rafael’s shoulder brushes my invisible one, and the sensation—the warmth of him when it happens—doesn’t make me want to pull away. I ignore my riotous reactions, because Helene’s place is …distracting. It’s as if every shade of yellow has been splattered on every surface. The walls. The upholstered furniture. Her wall art and ceramic cats. “I will never unsee this.”
“Plenty for your home decor Pinterest board.” Rafael nods thoughtfully. I snort, then cover my mouth with a hand. He responds with a wink that makes me skip a breath, and I categorize it as a new kind of vampire compulsion.
“Through here!” Helene declares, disappearing around a corner. I shake myself out of whatever he’s done and follow after them to a sunroom at the back of the house, where more of Helene’s interior design has me gawking. So. Much. Yellow.
“Sit, sit,” Helene instructs, waving Rafael to one of two sunshine-yellow armchairs. She shoos an orange cat from achaise before she settles into it with a sigh. Rafael drops into one of the fabric armchairs, sinking into the cushions.
I inch into the room—until a meow echoes from somewhere unseen. I dig my heels in. I can observe from here. Both Evies agree.
“All right, young man, let’s start with the easy things. What’s your name?” Helene rests her hands in her lap.
“Rafael Diego Vela,” he says, his fingers drumming against the armrest.
“Lovely name,” Helene says with a warm smile. “Now, tell me—what brings you here today? Is there a loved one who has passed?”
Even if I’m not one hundred percent on board with this idea, I feel a twinge of disappointment. I’m not a loved one, and I haven’t passed. And if those are the conditions for Helene being able to help us—me—then we’re not off to a great start.
“She hasn’t passed,” Rafael says.
Helene’s forehead crinkles into a hundred creases. “Hmmm. I’m not sure I understand, Rafael.”
“She’s actually in a coma, but”—he rolls his shoulders, clears his throat—“I sense her … spirit. Can talk to her.”
“Hmm … hmmm,” Helene is not at all surprised by his confession. “And is she here now?”
“Yes.” Rafael casts a quick glance my way. I try to mask my doubts about Helene’s abilities, but shouldn’t she know this? Feel my presence or aura?
“Hmmm.” Helene hums as she closes her eyes.
A white kitten (more fluff than kitten) meows from beneath Rafael’s armchair. I eye it warily. Rafael grins and reaches over, smoothly scooping her up and bringing her up to his face. He nuzzles her for a second, then three, before settling her onto his lap, where she stretches once and settles down for a nap. Rafael digs his fingers into her coat, tan fingers against white fur, and begins to massage her. The kitten mews. Helene hums.
And I want to slap myself for having been hypnotized by it all.
The kittens are a distraction, I realize with no small amount of horror.
“I’ve seen enough. This was a bad idea,” I admit, irritated with myselfandthe obviously pretend medium humming to herself. Rafael looks at me like I’ve suggested we shave the kitten.
“Can you tell me more about her?” Helene draws his attention back to her.
“Seriously, let’s go.” I attempt to steal it back.
“She’s demanding, ambitious, stubborn,” he says.
“Murderous,” I add, glaring at him.
Helene makes a noise. Then her face sobers, her entire body tensing. “Oh, I’m getting something.”
“It’s a whiff of bullshit.” I roll my eyes, retreating to the door. “You can’t be buying this,” I hiss, furious that he’s not seeing the truth. He simply shrugs, and—oh Mamma Mia—I think he’s beingHelene’d. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Helene taps her chest. “I’m getting aneeesound. Would this young lady’s name start with aneee? Or is there aneeein her name?”
Rafael’s brows shoot up in surprise. I roll my eyes because—lucky guess. “Yes,” he responds.
She nods, encouraged. “Well, I’m also getting the sense that she’s quiet and shy, but happy. Real bright smile she has.”
I’m actually scowling like a ghoul. Rafael knows this. “Convinced now? It’s complete bullshit. Let’s go,” I command, jerking my head toward the door.
