“So what you’re saying is,” Zane had interrupted, “she has supernatural ghost vision?”
“I’m saying,” Kaori had replied with the patience of someone still getting used to Zane, “she can see what even spectral analysis equipment can’t fully detect. Where your lenses show only color blobs, her vision provides complete detail.”
With a sigh, I refocused on the present, on the lingering unease that had settled in my bones. We never did learn much about the Pine Barrens entity. Seri said she could pick up only glimmers of magic from it, not enough to form a complete picture of who it had been in life, butBrumous, of all creatures, knew something we didn’t.
The first time the wolf had encountered the ghost, he’d backed away, hackles raised, communicating a single clear impression to Zane through their telepathic link:Lake.
When Z questioned him further, Brummy had simply whined, pressing himself against the wall furthest from the orb.
That’s when my suspicions had first crystallized. Water magic. The lake. A ghost that gave off only the faintest magical signature, yet clearly retained enough sentience to follow simple commands, like appearing where it was told. I’d kept my theory to myself, not wanting to alarm Seri unnecessarily, but I was almost certain the ghost belonged to Ondine Filcher, the old water witch who’d helped Amabel and Eluned infiltrate Evermere through our lake a few months ago.
I’d always wondered what punishment Arabesque would inflict for that, and now I knew.
Then Foster Collins had confirmed it during his weekly check-in:“Ondine Filcher terminated. Body unrecovered. Source reliable.”
For me, the final piece fell into place. Arabesque had drained the old water hag, tortured her beyond recognition, then killed her and trapped her ghost.
Why, though? The ghost hadn’t been aggressive. Hadn’t fought when we contained it. Hadn’t been anything more than the usual general menace: Cold spots, whispers, shadows. Standard haunting fare. No tracking signature we could detect. No audio or visual feed that might allow Arabesque to spy on us.
“It was a test,” Casimir had theorized during one of our late-night strategy sessions after Seri had gone to bed. “Can Arabesque use a lure to get us where she wants us? The answer is yes.”
“But she already knew that,” I’d argued. “We’ve been responding to supernatural threats for years. That’s literally our job.”
“Not with Seri,” Cas had pointed out. “She was testing whether we’d bring her along.”
It made a certain cold, logical sense, the kind of chess move Arabesque would make, but something about it still felt off. Too simple. Too obvious. Like seeing a tripwire in plain sight while missing the punji pit hidden beneath the leaves.
I wasn’t a strategist like Casimir. My instincts weren’t tactical; they were rooted in blood and strength, and now those instincts were screaming warnings that prickled along my spine.
I’d mentioned that to Cas, too, and he’d nodded, taking it seriously in his way, adding it to his mental spreadsheet of variables and contingencies. He didn’tfeelit, though. Not the way I did. And how could he? The?aumakuaweren’t his to hear.
Zane, surprisingly, had been more receptive.
“Maybe Arabesque is trying to figure Seri out,” he’d suggested, perched on the kitchen counter one night while I made tea for Seri.
“What do you mean?”
“Arabesque doesn’t do anything without multiple layers of fang-rotted scheming. She didn’t just send a ghost to see if we’d show up with Seri. She wanted to see what our girl woulddowith a ghost. She’s been siphoning from Seri for years, but did she take time to find out what all her stepdaughter could do? My guess is no. And now she’s trying to catch up.”
That made sense, but the more I thought about it, the more certain I became that we were missing something crucial. Without knowing what Arabesque’s endgame was, however, we were fighting shadows.
To reassure me last night, Cas had shown me the detailed risk assessment for today’s hunt, complete with color-coded threat levels and contingency plans. On paper, it looked ideal: A controlled environment with minimal civilian presence, easy terrain, and multiple exit routes if needed. But paper couldn’t capture the electric tension crackling along my spine, the pressure building behind my eyes like the air before a hurricane.
When Brumous had refused to get in the SUV this morning, whimpering and backing away as Zane coaxed him, I’d nearly called the whole thing off, but Seri had been standing there with a huge grin.
She needs this,I’d told myself.She needs to know we trust her abilities.
Now, as we drove along, Cas caught my eye again.
She’s not ready,his expression said.She could get hurt.
So could we.Every single time. She never asks us to give it up.
The GPS chimed, announcing our arrival in ten minutes. Our silent argument would have to wait. I faced forward, mind shifting into hunt mode, but the image of Seri, eyes bright with anticipation, stayed with me. Ready or not, she was one of us now.
And may the Devil help anything that tried to harm her.
#
