PHENOMENAL GIRL 5 (18 page)

When I walked into the breakfast nook to find the new Reincarnist there with a bagel, a cup of coffee, and a book—so typical of Robert—my heart hurt.

The new guy glanced up. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning.” I took the seat across from him.

“Have you had any ill-effects since the resurrection spell? Numbness, loss of muscle control, memory loss?”

If only
. “No. Same as usual.”

He smiled. “That’s amazing. I must say, in the entirety of written history, no one’s been able to perform that spell correctly. The side effects are so dangerous; either the resurrected comes back as a zombie with no will or mind, or is trapped in his own body, unable to control it, or the spell just kills the caster…Well, I guess it did that.”

That put a damper on my appetite. I pushed my bagel away.

“I wish I would’ve written down all the variables so I knew how it worked—not that I’d ever be able to perform it again, but for posterity, you know?” He’d been speaking to
himself; now he seemed to notice me. “No, you wouldn’t know. Sorry. I don’t mean to make light of what happened to you. I’m sure it was very traumatic.”

I tried not to hear the contractions. “You don’t remember anything that happened yesterday?” At the moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to remember or not. This new guy was not Robert.

“Everything’s still a bit of a blur. I know about the EHJ, I know in my former life I was respected for criminal profiling and crime-scene investigation, and I remember how to work all of the spells I’ve learned, except that last one. It’s like there was a power surge to my brain and I’m trying to reset all systems. Everything else is coming to me in odd little flashes.” He cocked his head to the side. “There. There’s one. I was a pirate once. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Neither did I.” He frowned in concentration. “In 1716. Had my own ship and everything.” He shook his head. “There. It’s gone again.”

I shivered. This was more than a little spooky.

“At least it’s better than coming back as a total void, no memories at all. That resurrection spell really could’ve done a number on me, you know?” He shook his head. “No, I barely understand it, I don’t expect you would.”

Did he just call me stupid?

“But I’m afraid any training we were working on is going to have to wait until I get myself settled…” He trailed off and stared helplessly at me.

I stared back until I realized he was looking at me to remind him of my name. Because he didn’t remember it.

I gritted my teeth. “Lainey. Lainey Livingston. Phenomenal Girl Five.”

He had the good sense to act sheepish. “Right. Lainey. Sorry. Um, I’m thinking of using Wesley.”

I blinked at the topic change. “Who? And for what?”

“For my name.”

“Wait, Robert isn’t your real name?”

He laughed. “My real name would sound very old-fashioned by today’s standards. I change names for every life. The last one was Robert Elliot. This one I think will be Wesley Charles.”

“Sure, if you want to be the guy with two first names,” I said.

“Elliot is a first name as well.”

“It sounds more like a last name than Charles.”

He frowned. “I like it.”

“Well, it’s
your
fake name,” I muttered.

“Yes, it is.” He closed the book he had been reading, drumming his fingers on the cover, closing his eyes. The awkwardness between us was almost tangible. We were off to a fabulous start.

The silence grew heavy and I sipped my coffee, trying to figure out just how long I had to sit there and be polite.

He opened his eyes again and shook his head. “By the way, the memorial service will be on Friday.” I watched as he stirred some cream into his coffee. I’d never seen Robert take it any way other than black. I didn’t understand how something as basic as how you take your coffee could change.

Wait, what was he talking about? I tore my eyes away from the cup. “What memorial?”

He narrowed his eyes, rubbing a hand across his forehead like he was getting a headache. It was obvious he thought I was dense, giving me a flashback to my early days here. “For Robert, of course.”

My stomach twisted. “You’re going to set up your own funeral?” My voice rose in disbelief. “You’re going to host it?”

“We have to have it for the people who knew Robert Elliot as Robert Elliot and not the Reincarnist, although I’m sure the members of the Elite Hands of Justice will attend. It’d be strange for the civilians to have him just disappear and me take over his things without any explanation. And it’s not really
my
funeral, it’s Robert’s.”

“So, what, you’re going to pass yourself off as his son?”

“No, just his legal heir.” He cleared his throat. “It might help you to think of me as your friend’s son, and not him. That way you won’t expect me to remember everything or act a certain way.”

My laugh sounded bitter to my own ears. “We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Excuse me?”

“Back when Robert and I were discussing one of your former lives, he said almost the exact same thing.” I set my cup down on the table and stood, unable to take the strain of being around him anymore. “I get it, Mr. Charles. You’re not him. That’s obvious.”

“Look, I’m sorry I don’t remember you,” he said, reacting to my icy tone. “And you don’t have to call me by my formal name; Wesley is fine. From what I’ve been told by Mayhew and from what I’ve read, we were friends.”

“Hold on,” I said. “From what you’ve
read
?”

He held up the book he carried. “Apparently it took a couple of lives to figure out the need to write things down. A large number of the books in my library are diaries of my former lives. Including one of Robert Elliot. Sometimes it helps to read about my last life while everything’s reordering itself in my brain. Helps me bring details back to the surface and make sense of it all.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “What does it say in there about me?”

He didn’t seem to notice my anxiety. “It’s all been complimentary. He didn’t seem to be the type to allow for close friendships, and yet it is obvious that you were. Close, I mean.”

I knew that was my cue to tell him the truth. I had told Robert I would remember for the both of us. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it with this complete stranger before me. I didn’t know if it was residual hurt feelings from Wesley’s apparent disgust at the thought of us
being together, or worse, that I was angry with Robert for forgetting.

“Did he mention what happened last night?” I asked, hoping I sounded nonchalant.

“About your death?” A look of sympathy crossed Wesley’s features. “No, the last diary entry he made was a couple of days prior. Mayhew told me he wanted to write down last night’s events, but he just didn’t make it. Robert told him about killing Jihad because he had murdered you, and Mayhew was there for your resurrection, so he told me about that. I don’t know much of the details about the Jihad incident, but that’s just as well. From what I remember of the EHJ, they don’t like anyone on the team killing anyone. At least not without forms signed in triplicate.” He gave me a weak smile. “Sorry. I shouldn’t joke about that. Jihad murdered many people in his time, and someone needed to put a stop to him. He kept escaping from prison or jumping to higher dimensions while he hatched his next plot.”

Though a part of me agreed, this sounded nothing like the man who had read me the riot act and compared me to a psycho vigilante for almost letting Death Dealer plummet to his death. The one who had cautioned me about being consumed by the darkness and had kissed me on the forehead so gently after…

“The EHJ may still speak with you about the incident for their files, so be prepared. If you’re having any problems dealing with what happened, they have counseling services, I’m sure, for that sort of thing.”

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to ignore how unconvincing that sounded. “I just want to get back to work as usual.”

“Alright. Let’s go into the library then.” He stood and strode down the hall, me following with less enthusiasm.

“I’ve made a list. I think it’s a quirk, actually, list-making.” He walked over to Robert’s desk—his desk now—and picked up a creamy sheet of paper, handing it to me. I took it and stared at the perfect handwriting, completely legible, unlike
Robert’s messy scrawl, which usually needed deciphering. I wondered if he had problems reading Robert’s diary entries, or if he could read the words because he had once written them.

“Was Robert a list-maker?”

“Um, not really. He was very organized, but he didn’t write everything down.”

He looked very disappointed. “Well, that’s the agenda for today. I’d like to get as much of it done as possible.”

I frowned. He’d said it in his stuffy tone, like he’d be doing the work, but of course I would be doing it unless his tolerance for secretarial duties had changed. I skimmed the notes.

Make appointment with tailor for fittings. Notify associates of Robert’s passing and funeral arrangements.
Oh, God. I didn’t know if I could handle that, calling up people and telling them Robert was gone. I skipped ahead.
Business associates to be notified of Wesley inheriting companies
. The rest was mostly about planning aspects of the memorial service: caterers, music, that kind of thing.

I looked up at him. “I’ve never handled this type of situation before. I have no idea what kind of flowers to get or anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll have Mayhew take care of the most of the memorial arrangements; you just take care of the other items on the list.”

Great. So it looked like the bulk of my day would be spent writing death letters and assisting Mayhew in preparing my late boyfriend’s memorial service. Although, if I could take comfort in any of this, and there wasn’t much to be taken, I
did
get to tell Victoria Dupree that she never needed to darken this door again.

“Can you add ‘buy more casual clothes for me’ to the list? I’ll write down my approximate size for you.” He leaned against the table and rubbed his head like he had a migraine. “I knew Shakespeare?”

“What?”

He waved me away. “Nothing. I still want to tailor some of the suits. It’s not that I mind dressing up on occasion, but every single day?”

Although I never understood Robert’s need for formality, it hurt that this new version was going to wipe away all traces of him. His manner of speech, his clothes, his feelings for me…

“Fine,” I said. “But we’re both young
professionals
, and I can’t respect a boss who runs around in designer T-shirts with pseudo-witty sayings written on them.”

He laughed. “Thanks, I needed a bit of humor.”

Mayhew entered the room. “Excuse me, sir, but Detective Pendergast is on the phone. He wants to speak to Mister Elliot about one of the detainees.”

Wesley looked at me. “Lainey’ll have to take care of it until I’m formally introduced. She’s the one who actually remembers what happened last night.”

In more ways than one
. “It’s fine, Mayhew, I’ll take it in here.”

“Right away, Miss,” he said and disappeared. A few moments later, the phone on the desk rang.

I picked it up. “Detective Pendergast, this is Phenomenal Girl Five.”

“Ah, good morning. I don’t suppose I could convince you and your partner to come downtown? We interrogated a few of the villains rounded up last night, and something came out in one of the interviews I thought you should hear. The Feds picked up the criminals early this morning to take them to the Holding Tank”—this, I knew, was the prison for powered villains—“but I thought this was information of a sensitive nature that the Reincarnist should deal with himself.”

“I-I’ll come over right away,” I said, and hung up before he could say anything else. I couldn’t tell Pendergast of Robert’s death with Wesley sitting right there and listening in.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, flipping through a book.

“I don’t know. I’m going to check it out.”

“If you need any help, don’t hesitate to call. I’m a bit out of it, but still capable of lending a hand, even while not at my best.”

“It’s fine. I’ll let you know what happens.” I shut the door to the library behind me.

“Did you tell him?”

I shrieked. “Jesus, Mayhew! What are you doing lurking out here?” I cast a quick look back to make sure Wesley hadn’t heard me scream like a little girl.

“Did you tell him?”

“About what?” I continued down the hall, trying to brush the butler off.

He frowned. “About you and Robert.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Now he was glaring at me. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I hoped I didn’t blush when I said it. I’ve never been a good liar.

“You already lied once when he asked you point-blank if you were lovers. I assumed you were just thrown by him changing, but I thought for sure you’d tell him the truth by now.”

I snatched up the keys to the Mustang. I was already exhausted by this ordeal, and the day had just begun. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please give me a little credit,” he said dryly. “I know he loved you. I know you had deep feelings for him as well.”

“I loved him.”

Mayhew’s eyes were kind. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened next. Before he died, Robert wanted to write something in his diary. He didn’t get a chance. He wanted me to make sure he remembered you in the next life. That was the first thing I was supposed to ask him, if he remembered Lainey.”

“And he didn’t.”

“No, but he seemed to know where to go to find you.”

I gritted my teeth at the reminder. “Wesley doesn’t remember me and he doesn’t even like me. You heard him last night! I probably would have said something had he not asked if we were lovers with such complete and utter disgust.”

Mayhew’s features slumped in defeat. “Miss Lainey.”

“This new Reincarnist doesn’t need to know about what happened, Mayhew. That died along with Robert. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go see the police.” I turned and walked out of the mansion before he could see me cry.