We slowed our pace in front of the church. People mingled outside heavy wooden double-doors, chatting and smoking valrivia cigarettes. Lon shook a few hands and grunted at several Hellfire Club members, tilting his chin up in answer to people who waved from afar. The few brief conversations we had with other attendees all started out with “Such a shame about David” and “I just can’t believe he’s gone,” but quickly progressed to “Where are they serving lunch after the burial?” And these were Merrimoth’s peers.

The inside of the sanctuary was packed. We decided to forgo the pews and stand along the back wall. We weren’t the only ones. When a couple squeezed in next to us, Lon shifted me in front of him, pulling my back against his solid chest. I relaxed, grateful for the comfort his warm body provided. He ran his thumb down the side of my arm from my elbow to my wrist and up again, a slow, soothing stroke.

“You look nice,” he murmured in my ear, so low and close it tickled. I turned my head sideways, trapping his cheek with mine. He smelled really good, like clean laundry and soap . . . and like Lon—that same identifiable scent I caught yesterday when Telly was tearing the bridge down over us. I breathed him in, a small pleasure, as he whispered, “Wish we were dressed up for a restaurant instead of a funeral.”

“Me too,” I whispered back.

A few seconds passed, then he said, “Better yet, I wish we were alone.”

“Mmm?”

“Completely alone. No Jupe. No Mr. and Mrs. Holiday. No in-laws. What do you think?”

“Right now?” Funerals were turning out to be way better than I imagined.

“A vacation.”

“Oh?”

Sometimes communicating with Lon was like pulling teeth. But I’d learned if I stayed quiet, he’d eventually spit out what he was trying to say. So I didn’t answer. I just waited, watching people file into the crowded sanctuary.

After a long pause, he continued murmuring in my ear. “I got an offer for a photo shoot in the Alps. Thought maybe you’d like to come along and we could make a vacation out of it.”

“As in Europe?”

“I could choose Switzerland or France. I thought maybe you’d like to go to France.”

Hmm. My parents’ families were both originally from France (my mother grew up in Paris, and my father’s parents were from Marseille) and they used to speak French when they were alone. My mother had a heavy French accent up to the last day I’d seen her alive. I’d always been curious about France. I still had family there—distant cousins and whatnot—and I often wondered what they were like. But I’d never been out of the states.

Lon raised a finger and shifted a lock of hair away from my ear, then continued to speak in a low, quiet voice. “A small village in the Alps. Just the two of us. I was thinking we could rent a villa. A nice one. Indoor pool. Big fireplace. Drink wine. Go skiing.”

“Skiing?” I said incredulously. I doubted I could roller skate, much less ski.

Then he admitted, “Mostly I was just thinking about getting naked.”

My throat made a strangled sound, something between a laugh and a gasp. A little thrill zinged through me. “A sex vacation?” I whispered.

He chuckled. “No Jupe, no Tambuku. Just you and me.”

“I’ve never been on a vacation before.”

“Ever?”

“Never.” My parents had always left me at home with someone from our esoteric order when they went on vacations, and then, of course, I separated from them when I turned seventeen. Being on the run and living under an alias doesn’t exactly lend itself to relaxing vacation time.

“Another first,” Lon whispered in a sultry voice. It was one of his favorite pastimes, cataloging any “first” experiences I shared with him. He kept a mental list. I think it was some kind of male pride thing. Kind of endearing.

“France at the end of January,” he said. “It’s settled.”

It was a glorious thought, this little vacation fantasy of his. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll talk to Kar Yee.”

“I already asked her. She said it was fine.”

I cocked my head, confused for a moment until I remembered Kar Yee’s words last week before the robbery: I know a secret you don’t know. “Well, damn,” I muttered, a nervous happiness spreading through my chest.

“Eight nights, and I only have to work two of those. I’ve got everything booked already. Just wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it.”

My heart squeezed. I turned my face up to his and kissed him on the bottom of his chin, right below one point of his pirate mustache. “Nicest surprise ever.”

He hugged me closer as a familiar face bobbed into view. Lon’s head snapped back from mine as he looked where I was gazing, toward a smiling man strolling down the side aisle, waving in our direction.

“Father Carrow!”

It took the good Father a few seconds to pick his way over to us, wending his way around the crowd gathering behind the pews. The sight of his silver hair and cornflower-blue halo made me happy. Yes, he was an Earthbound and a former priest. The first one I’d ever met, but there were others, like the current priest of this church. Being retired, Father Carrow was dressed in a suit today instead of robes. He waved a fedora he held in hand as he greeted us. “Cady and Lon, two of my favorite people.”

I hugged Father Carrow’s neck. “It’s good to see you,” I said, and meant it. He lived a couple blocks from me back in Morella, and we used to talk frequently. But since I’d unofficially moved in with Lon and Jupe, I saw less and less of him.