Shades of Gray: A Jude Magdalyn Novel (25 page)
They say funerals and
memorials are for the living; to give them a chance to grieve before moving on. All of which may be true, but it’s also a way for the dead to get one last say in other people’s lives. And Gillian had a lot to say.
I hadn’t known what Gillian requesting a full Irish Wake entailed. Most of the arrangements were taken care of, but there were some things she simply couldn’t do. Things which, in any other city would be absolutely crazy and impossible to pull off, but this is New Orleans, and nothing is truly impossible here.
Like informing the mayor, the chief of police, and a half dozen other civil bodies you needed to close off between twenty and thirty blocks of a major throughway in the middle of five o’clock traffic on a Friday.
We received not a single complaint from any of them. Funerals are apparently very, very important.
The priest at St. Louis Cathedral proved a bit more difficult. Father O’Brien appeared, and between him and Theo, everything was squared away. I stood to the side and let the men handle things. Sixteen years with the nuns had taught me a woman’s position according to the church. It didn’t include telling the head priest of any church how to perform a Funeral Mass.
Theo and I returned to the house to find the entire lower floor jammed full of people. The wailing coming from the smaller parlor stood the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck on end, despite Theo’s murmur about the significance of the keening in my ear. Every time one person tapered off another would pick up the cry in a never-ending lament.
The mirrors were covered with white cloth and the clock frozen. Again, Theo explained to me how the custom was done out of respect for the dead. The older generations believed the soul of the departed could be trapped inside a mirror unless properly covered. Both traditions scared me with the fact people still followed the old traditions, and the probability of such things happening in the world.
Gillian had chosen her own coffin and clothes years before, much like she’d chosen mine. When I’d asked Theo if she’d picked his out too, he’d grinned before answering. “Not entirely. She just told me I should always make sure my wardrobe contained clothes for all occasions. Then she took me to a menswear store.”
She was laid out in white, a shocking contrast to the brilliant sapphire blue of the silk lining. Gillian had never worn a color even close, and I wondered if she’d chosen it for that reason. Someone had threaded her rosary through her fingers. The beads, worn smooth from years of handling, shone under the muted lights. A crucifix laid on her chest, clasped in her other hand. Her hair fanned out around her face, popping against the blue.
Flowers of every variety, all the same shade of shocking blue, filled the parlor. They gathered around the dark wood of the coffin, flowed over the glossy wood tables, even competed for space in front of the empty fireplace. Everywhere you looked a field of blooms colored the darkened room.
The only light came from candles placed at Gillian’s feet and head. Tall, short, skinny, fat, all white. The candles never melted or burnt out. I asked Theo, and he gave a half smile, shadowed with grief. “It was the least I could do. She taught me how to throw fire, because no one else in my family knew how.”
I nodded, slipping my hand into his. Covenant members flowed in and out of the room, pressing a kiss to Gillian’s cheek. Almost all took a moment to say a rosary. Children were lifted to press soft lips against cold flesh. The endless procession of people was there to say goodbye to Gillian.
A murmur and shift in the crowd announced Williams and his guard’s entrance. His eyes shot to me briefly. I gripped Theo’s hand tighter. Theo shifted slightly, and I realized he’d placed himself just in front of me. I jostled him, forced him to move until I stood next to him again. I’d face my mistakes, even if doing it burned a lead hole in my gut.
The murmur grew louder, and the crowd began to move restlessly. Williams took a step in our direction, opening his mouth as if to say something. Theo took an answering step and Williams faltered. I knew, without looking, the awful fury on Theo’s face.
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
Everybody held their breath, me included. The candles flickered, jumping higher, and I squeezed Theo’s hand. For a second I thought he would ignore me, but as I watched the candles simmered back down and I let my breath out.
Williams nodded sharply and turned back toward Gillian’s coffin. He couldn’t hold a rosary, couldn’t lean into the coffin to kiss her cheek as the others had done. Instead, he bowed his head and his followers dropped to their knees. After a long moment, he lifted his head again and looked skyward. I could have sworn I saw him mouth the word amen.
Williams turned and the crowd moved aside to give him a clear path. Theo stepped forward again, and this time I did tug on his arm. “There are things that need to be said, Jude.”
I sighed, resigned to the fact nothing would change his mind. “Then we’ll go together.” He opened his mouth to argue and I shook my head, shutting him up before he could say one word. “No, Theo. We’re in this together. All the way together.”
He searched my face and whatever he saw must have satisfied him. “Fine. Together, then.”
“I suppose I should
feel honored you believe such a show of force is necessary for a simple conversation.” If Williams was worried it didn’t show. Then again, he had a little bit of experience at deadpan.
Theo smiled and my heart picked up speed. In an oh, fuck kind of way. “Simple conversation.” Theo shook his head, still smiling, but I stood close enough to see him clench and unclench his fists in his pockets. Not good. “You’ve got a real talent for understatement there, Williams.”
Williams gave a little bow. You didn’t need to be an expert at reading body language to see the mockery. “One talent among many. Wouldn’t you agree, Jude Magdalyn?”
My cue to get pissed off. I’d never missed one before - be a shame to start now. “Your expertise is unquestionable, even if your execution is… lacking, at times.”
“I don’t recall hearing any complaints about my execution last night.”
The gloves were off, without question.
“I’m guessing you also didn’t hear anything remotely close to a conscience, either.” Theo’s accent came out more when he was angry. If he got as angry as I expected, I might not be able to understand him by the end of this little debacle.
Williams grew colder and more formal. “I did nothing without permission. Perhaps Jude Magdalyn should have consulted with her conscience.”
“Jiminy Cricket drowned in a bottle of Jack Daniels. My bad. Where’d your own little voice of reason go?”
“Out the window, the second you decided to shove your tongue down my throat. If my ‘little voice’ didn’t shut up then, he sure as hell did when you helped me rip your pants off and get my hand between your thighs.”
Theo moved so fast I didn’t see him move. One second he stood beside me, and the next he had Williams by the throat, doing a damn good impression of trying to push him through the wall. I was so shocked even if I’d seen it coming I don’t know if I would have been able to stop it.
“What, exactly, did you think you were doing, you son of a bitch?” The drawl unique to New Orleans remained, but sounded completely at odds with the strained harshness of Theo’s voice. “She was alone. I’ll take the blame for that. Alone, traumatized, grieving. If you cared for her even a fraction of what you claim to, you would have put her to sleep and walked away. We trusted you, all of us, to be better than the people we’re fighting against. Instead you showed us how much of a monster you are.”
I moved forward hesitantly, keeping an arm’s length away from Theo. My fingertips grazed his shoulder, and his head jerked around. I had to swallow the lump into my throat and force myself to not step back. Williams’ eyes might have held a flame of anger. Theo’s contained an inferno.
“Theo. It’s done. It’s over, it’s done.” I kept my voice calm and my expression level. “Let him go. Let it go.”
The crazed look slowly lifted from Theo’s eyes, and I could see him again. He was still angry, but Theo again. He unclenched his hand and Williams sucked in a breath. “Thank you, Jude Magdalyn. How shocking for you to be the voice of reason in this room.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me, and Theo.” I pulled Theo back, putting a few feet between the two of us and Williams. I found his hand with mine and linked our fingers. A natural unit. “I still need you to fight against Hart, and Jiminy wouldn’t like it if Theo snuffed you out.”
“Last night you said you’d had enough.”
“I said and did a lot of things last night.”
The quiet stretched out, and I wanted to look away from Williams’ eyes, but didn’t. “I gave my word to people I would follow this through.”
“After last night, your word carries very little weight for me, Jude Magdalyn.”
I didn’t think, I reacted. I slapped Williams once, twice, his head whipping back and forth. “We made a mistake. Accept it. Move on.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. Losing my temper wouldn’t do any good.
“My apologies. To both of you.” The words were empty, lacking meaning, but we were all getting used to saying things we didn’t entirely mean. A knock came at the door, and without waiting, Elizabeth opened it.
“You’re needed, all of you, in the library.” For the first time since the world imploded, grief showed on Elizabeth’s face. “Gillian’s lawyer says her will needs to be read. Now.”
Gillian’s lawyer looked like
they all do. Buttoned down, starched up, like their orders are delivered direct from God. Although in this case it was pretty darn close.
I worried about the lawyer. I mean, seriously worried about his health. He looked near dead, like one long winded brief too many would do him in. His folded hands on top of the paper were knurled, twisted with age and dusted with liver spots. His hair, still surprisingly thick even if a bright pewter gray, gleamed over eyes the color of bottled glass. He seemed on the verge of joining Gillian.
The thought of my mentor stung the back of my eyes with tears, and I took a few deep breaths. Theo squeezed my hand and the moment passed. I opened my eyes and nodded. “Alright. You can start.”
The lawyer cleared his throat, and the phlegmy sound cemented my assumptions until he spoke in a deep, rich and beautiful baritone. “This is the reading of the last will and testament of Gillian Henries.” He stopped to clear his throat again, which would have been a great time for me to jump in and ask what the hell was going on if I hadn’t been utterly shell shocked. Almost every person in the room looked the same, some more than others. Only two didn’t. Lisette.
And Williams.
“Henries? You’re sure?” Rian’s voice shook, but at least he could speak. One better than me. “Henries, not Sullivan?”
The lawyer frowned, coughing harshly before continuing. “Sullivan? No, Sullivan was her maiden name. Although she may have used it for some purposes, her legal name has always been Henries.”
“This is the latest version, updated only three days ago or two days before her death.” Acting like he didn’t notice the state of those in the room, he continued talking, some of his words running together like the slurred speech of an alcoholic. “It was witnessed by Mr. Williams and myself, and duly signed and notarized. Any questions as to its authentic nature can be put to rest.
Gillian had a number of bequests, and the smaller ones have been dealt with. Her liaisons with the mayor’s office and the local law enforcement agencies will each receive ten thousand dollars, and Gillian’s requested you to continue in the same regard for Jude.
To Elizabeth and Celia Malley, the amount of two hundred fifty thousand dollars, to be held in trust by a specified third party until Elizabeth reaches eighteen. At that time, the trust will be managed by Elizabeth with Celia gaining access on her eighteenth birthday and the amount in the trust split in half.”
I don’t think Celia understood what happened, but Elizabeth did. Her whispered, “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” rippled throughout the room.
“In addition, Gillian left the suggestion a thirteenth seat be added to the Council, to be held by Elizabeth and Celia. To quote directly from the document, ‘Jude needs people around her she can trust, and if Celia doesn’t have something to distract her, she’ll drive Elizabeth crazy.’” The lawyer cleared his throat again, and this time somebody did jump in-Lisette. Oh, joy.
“Gillian goes too far. She wasn’t Council, and she can’t dictate how it runs after she’s in the ground.”
“Quiet, Great-grandmother.” Theo sounded tired, like all the energy had been drained with the anger. “Just this once, will you please be quiet.”
Miracle of miracles, she did like he asked, but someone always had to screw things up.
“Grandmother Lisette is right. Gillian goes too far. Bad enough we are left with no choice but to let this street urchin lead us into hell. I’ll not stand for another pair, one of whom hasn’t an ounce of magic in her, to have a say in the decisions of the Council.” Wily stood, anger brightening her cheeks with two bright red spots. Guile looked as angry and appalled as her mother, as well as Christophe. Lies looked embarrassed.
“You really, sincerely, do not want to push me right now.” Wily took me at my word and sat down. The lawyer waited a moment, making sure the histrionics were over before continuing.
“To Rian, Gillian left an equal amount and the statement that now he had nothing standing in the way of his one true wish.” The lawyer raised his eyes from the papers to eye Rian. “I’ll trust you know what she means, young man, and act accordingly.
To Williams, she left numerous paintings and books, given the impression you had no use for them, Jude, and Williams has always been particularly fond of them.” He passed me a list which I handed wordlessly to Williams. “She also expressed the wish that when the time comes you let someone else finish the business remaining between you and your brother.”