May none of the house ghosts be violent, amen.
Davina piped up. “I think I’ll be well enough to help tomorrow.”
Lachlan eyed his cousin in worry. “Don’t push yourself.”
“Promise I’m not,” she said with a pat on his shoulder. “Just tired now.”
She did seem to be doing better.
“Quit when you need to quit. Don’t relapse on us,” I said.
“Will do.”
“Stick with us tomorrow, Davina, Lachlan,” Quinn suggested. “That way, if you have to quit midway, you can without it causing a ripple effect.”
“Oh, a fine thought. Let’s do that.”
Seemed we had a game plan and things worked out. I really hoped we came across some kind of information about the wannabe demon in the process. I had no idea how to find this bastard otherwise.
The next morning, residences were divvied up and we headed out. Some of the homes on the list were original to the town, and it showed in the level of activity. According to Booker, a few ghosts had escalated to actual physical violence, so we definitely wanted to nip those in the bud before someone got really hurt. This one, in fact, we were doing before school started because a child was in danger. It was hopefully a quick stop, but honestly, I couldn’t make those calls in this crazy place. Often, the simple-looking tasks snowballed without any warning.
The GPS was up on my phone as we made the turns, and I talked to Mack as we did so. “I know this is on the way andshould be a quick clearing, so do you want to tackle Gwyn’s school directly after?”
“Mon cher, I do think that’s wise. We don’t want her marked for truancy.”
“There’s that, too.”
Gwyn leaned her head between the seats before saying, “Do you expect them to—whoa! Brandon, look out!”
I didn’t see jack in front of me and calmly said, “Ghost, Gwyn.”
“Oh. Fuck. He looked so real.”
“They always do.”
Mack shook his head and said wryly to Gwyn, “This is precisely why Brandon always drives.”
That, and it gave me a minor heart attack watching him drive. Note I did not say this aloud.
“One of the reasons why a Medium needs an anchor?”
“Well, it is a factor,” Mack allowed.
I pulled in closer to the curb to parallel park. “All right, we’re here.”
The house in question had very interesting architecture. It was two stories, all-white clapboard siding, with two large bay windows in the front and a covered porch. Very much a remnant of a different time. Still, was this person allergic to color? Why was every aspect of this house white, including the door?
I shook the question off, going around to the back of the SUV to grab my gear. I didn’t know what to prepare for—Mack might be able to deal with the ghost with no support from me—so I grabbed the duffel. It had everything in there, and I could play things by ear.
Gwyn stuck to my side like glue, her head panning as she took in the house and small front yard, expression twisting. I didn’t like her look. “Something up?”
“There’s a lot of grey trails,” she conveyed, still looking about uneasily.
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound promising whatsoever. “Mack?”
Mack was ahead of me but paused on the stairs to shoot me a grim look over one shoulder. “It’s not good, cher.”
Right. Good thing I had the duffel. I might have to shoot something.
