Eunice narrowed her eyes. "Something happen in the cemetery?" Her gaze dragged down to the ripped sleeve of Henry's coat, the fabric stiff with dried blood. "I noticed the rip before, but it wasn't bleeding then. What happened?"
After he gave her the gory details, including his episode in Wanda's kitchen, she said, "You're marked forever now."
"Forever?" he asked.
"Anyone who survives the sickness carries the Ghost Scar." She jerked a nod. "You've got one."
The implications of such a mark were disconcerting. "But what does it mean, exactly?"
She slipped the trap back in the box. "The nasty ghost energies will be attracted to you from now on. They'll want to be near you, to touch you." She shook her head. "Have Mystic with you at all times, if you can. She'll take care of them."
"What if she doesn't?"
Eunice shrugged. "You'll get cut or bitten, and then you'll get the sickness again. It's curable as long as you have the antidote close at hand."
Damn. More salt burns.
She went to a wooden chest in the corner of the basement and opened the lid. After digging inside, she pulled out a small leather pouch tied to a leather string. "I'm going to put an Imp in this pouch that I want you to keep around your neck at all times. Even while you're sleeping."
Henry hated wearing anything around his neck. That's why he never wore a tie. "Do I have to?"
"Only if you don't want to become an insane psychopathic killer again." Eunice stepped toward a wall sconce that burned brightly. "You can have this Imp," she said, gesturing at the lamp. "Call it out for me, please? And direct it here." She opened the pouch.
Henry focused his will on the Imp, letting it know what he wanted it to do without making it an order. The sconce light faded to darkness, then an orange wisp of energy streamed to the pouch in Eunice's hand. She closed the drawstring, said a few words in a language Henry didn't understand, and tiny sparks flickered out the top of the pouch. She handed the necklace to Henry. "Put it on before you attract trouble."
He arched one eyebrow and slipped the necklace over his head, tucking the pouch inside his shirt. His neck was already starting to itch.