I forgotto set my alarm. Well, it’s more like I forgot I turned it off and assumed it would wake me up at my normal work time. It’s nine-thirty, and I’m a little surprised I slept in so late. I didn’t stay up too late last night, though doing the banishing spell over and over did take a lot out of me.
As we lay down to sleep, Jac told me that if I can pull in energy from the world around me, it’ll help replace what I used to do the spell. And to figure out how to do that, I need to meditate and learn how to focus on said energy. I get that magic is complicated, but this whole having to learn to do one thing in order to do another is a little frustrating.
Getting up, I quickly get dressed and ready to head out to work. I’m wearing a black tank top and jeans today, with tall leather boots. It’s not something I’d typically wear to work, but it won’t raise eyebrows either. I have errands to run today anyway.
Before I leave, I go into the basement to check on the runes, as well as check on the locked box containing Braeya’s necklace. It’s stored inside an old box full of paperback books, and the guys are in front of the box. I drop down and crawl between Tom’s and Gil’s outstretched wings. They’re frozen in the same positions as they were outside on the porch and roof.
I get the locked box and go upstairs. I put my finger over the lock, wincing before the little needle shoots up and pricks my finger. It sinks back down into the steampunk-looking lock, and the gears turn and open once it gets my blood.
I’m not going to attempt to summon anything again. Jac has a plan on how to do a safe séance, and I’m all for waiting. And inside the house is pretty pointless right now anyway with all the salt and banishing spells I did last night. I slip the necklace over my head, tucking the golden cross into my shirt. It rests between my breasts, and the cool metal feels almost electric.
I finish my coffee and head out the door, getting stuck in slower traffic than usual on my way to the office. It’s a bit of a drive going into town now that I live out here, but when I leave at six or seven a.m., I’m able to make it in without too many issues. Today, I get stuck behind an accident, stop at every single red light, and wonder how some people even got their licenses because merging seems to be a completely foreign concept.
Someone is in my usual spot in the station parking lot, and I take the first one I can find in the back. Hiking my purse over my shoulder, I walk in and make it all the way to my desk before anyone spots me. The office is busy today, and everyone is used to seeing me here. It might not hit them I’m supposed to be on vacation as they pass me by.
Quickly, I log onto my computer and pull up the files about the two attacks. The first attack happened at an office building and I’d be surprised if there wasn’t security footage.
I read statements and the report filed by the responding officer as fast as I can, and then bring up the footage taken from that night. Only one of the cameras picked up something, and the footage from the others is oddly grainy. The report says it “glitched.” Hah. I’m sure that’s all it was.
I steal a glance up around me, risking making eye contact. No one sees me, and I play the few seconds of footage recorded in the lobby. The quality isn’t the best, but the outline of a woman can clearly be seen entering the building. The doors are automatic, and open when she’s near.
Once inside, the camera focuses and the details come into view. She’s wearing a pink dress and has tears running down her face. It’s the same woman I saw walking through my house.
Shit.
“Bisset,” Nick, a fellow officer—but not detective—says as he comes up to my desk. I jerk up and close the file on my computer. “I thought you were on vacation.”
“I was, er, I am.”
He smiles and lets his eyes linger over me. “Vacation looks good on you.”
“Thanks.” I’ve tried not to acknowledge the fact that he’s subtly hit on me pretty much every time we interact over the last few years. I didn’t want to have to deal with it for a few reasons, one being I know Nick has a girlfriend. She moved in with him last year. “So, I heard about the ghost attacks.”
Nick laughs. “People are nuts, am I right?”
“Right. But two people describing the same attacker?”
He rolls his eyes. “Anything for the likes and shares.”
“You think the most recent was a copycat?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t see the guy, but from what I’ve heard, he had the shit beat out of him. I don’t see how a woman could have done that.”
I cross my arms.
“You don’t think I could beat someone up?”
He lets his gaze linger over my body a second too long. “You could. But you’ve had training. A lot of training. The attacker is a petite woman in a dress and heels. Just doesn’t make sense.”
“How bad off is this guy?” I ask.
“His jaw had to be wired shut.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.” He widens his eyes. “And the girlfriend supposedly witnessed it all and the attacker didn’t so much as glare at her. I don’t get it.”
He won’t get it. Hell, I don’t get it and I’m the one who accidentally released this spirit into our world. “Nothing was stolen?”
