Page 116 of What Happens at Nightfall

“You have no place here.” There was an echo, as if Jess was saying something that had been said before, the voices of past Jacintas twining with hers. “Belfagor, arch-demon, by the powers of light, I compel you.”

The flowers in the millefiori glowed, not dried anymore, but living things. The demon struggled against the vortex sucking him toward the pendant in Jess’s hand. Adam drew in a choking gasp of breath as Belfagor’s hold on him broke.

“Power! Riches!” the demon gabbled, as the light pulled him in. “You’re making a mistake here! I could offer youuuuuuuuuuu—”

Whatever he was going to offer was cut off as he was sucked into the circle in Jess’s hand. She could feel a recoil down her wrists as the glass closed around the demon, holding him fast, imprisoned in a garland of flowers.

There was a bulge in the glass that hadn’t been there before, an angry gargoyle face pressing against the middle of the pendant, incongruously wreathed in flowers.

Jess’s legs gave way. She sat down, hard, on the floor, still holding the pendant in both hands.

In front of her, on the far wall of the mausoleum, the stained glass portrait of Cornelia Vanderwilt smirked down at her, whole and unbroken. The candles weren’t real candles anymore. They were plastic, the flames flat and uniform.

Ben plunged into his father’s arms, burying his head in his father’s chest, his body racked with sobs. “I’m sorry,” he babbled. “I’m so sorry. He promised me . . . He promised me . . .”

“Shhhh,” said Adam, holding on to his son. “It’s over.”

As Adam buried his face in his son’s hair, Jess saw the shadow of a woman drift up behind Ben.

It wasn’t Cornelia Vanderwilt.

This woman wore spandex leggings and a T-shirt. Her straight dark hair had been pulled back in a ponytail. She had one of those thin, fine-boned faces, somewhere in that nexus between angular and attractive. Jess had never seen her before, but she knew who she was.

For some reason, Jess had always assumed Kate had been blond.

Kate’s transparent hand rested, for just a moment, on Ben’s back. Kate leaned forward and her lips brushed noiselessly against his cheek. Aside from the fact that she was completely see-through, they were a perfect family grouping, mother, father, and son. Jess looked at Adam and Ben, but they were entirely absorbed in each other. Cal was gawping at the stained glass window; Ingrid and Jess’s mother were consulting over the broken parasol. No one seemed to have any idea Kate was there. Except Jess.

Kate straightened. She cast one last, yearning look at her son—and then she looked directly at Jess.

You were gone, Jess wanted to say. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I thought terrible things about you. I’m sorry I lusted after your husband. I’m sorry I wasn’t more efficient at saving your son.

Kate’s lips moved, framing two words.

Thank you.

Jess’s cheeks were wet. She sat there on the floor, her legs like rubber, the captured demon in her hand, as Kate was there and then she wasn’t. The space where she had been was solid wall again. Cornelia Vanderwilt gazed serenely down, forever immortalized in glass.

“The window broke.” Adam’s friend Cal touched the glass with two fingers. “I saw it break. How is it not broken?”

Ingrid bustled over to him. “Everything that happened here tonight and that’s the weirdest thing you can think of?”

Cal stepped back, studying the window. “Is it just me or does it look different? Was Cornelia always pointing down like this?”

There was no sign of Cornelia now, or Kate. They were both gone.

“Sweetheart?” Jess’s mother crouched down beside her, trying to dry the tears slipping down Jess’s cheeks with her fingers. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I never told you about your father.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” mumbled Jess, letting her mother pull her into her embrace. She smelled of herbal tea and salt and sand and home.

“It’s not okay.” Her mother sat back on her haunches. “You didn’t really think I’d slept with a demon, did you?”

“No,” Jess lied.

“Maybe I was selfish, not telling you. If you want . . .” her mother said tentatively. “If you want I could put you in touch with your biological father. He’d probably be very happy to hear from you.”

The lips of the thing in the pendant were moving. Jess didn’t want to hear what it had to say. She turned it upside down, so that it showed only flowers. “No. I don’t need him. I’ve got you.”

“I’m not all you’ve got.” Her mother got clumsily to her feet. Behind her stood Adam, Ben at his side.