For him, that probably meant the Paranormal Crimes squad. For me, that meant my sister. Nodding, he shook his shoulders and reached out with his hand. I poured him a handful of salt and took one for myself. The container had been nearly full when I’d taken it. Now it was half empty.
Hopefully we could get out of the house before we ran out of the only ammunition that seemed to bother the ghosts. If I’d known salt would actually work, I would have filled my bag with the stuff.
We headed downstairs, me in the lead. My eyes kept darting from left to right, even though I knew that she didn’t have to appear if she didn’t want to. At the stairs, I glanced down and realized that we were following a morbid breadcrumb trail. There were spots of burned wood all the way down to the entryway.
Richmond was gone.
I glanced at King and he’d gone pale, turning his skin yellowish. “Try the door.”
Reaching for it with my non-salty hand, I felt the knob twitch, but it didn’t turn. Closing my eyes, I tried pouring magic into it, to get the thing to talk to me. If it was reasonable, maybe I could get it to unlock, ghost curse or no.
Before I could try, I felt my back go cold and then King was shouting. I spun, tossing my handful of salt towards where I thought the poltergeist was. She flickered, but then there were another two ghosts, their expressions gleeful as they moved forward, smiles twisting up their faces like demented clowns. The female ghost was behind them, urging them on.
King’s hand was on my bicep and he yanked me into the circle he’d made for Richmond. It felt like being pulled through Jello. A thick popping sound and we were inside, everything feeling muffled as his magic cut us off from the rest of the world, including the ghosts that were dancing just on the edge of the circle.
“The circle is still up,” I said, looking around at where the world turned a strange, greenish hue at the boundary of the circle. “Richmond must have walked out on his own power?”
“Yeah,” King said, shortly. His eyes were on our three ghosts. “We can find him when we’re out.”
I realized how tightly he was pressing us together. His uniform had lots of hard bits, his badge, stiff lines where his pockets were, both of his notepads against his chest and a pen poking my bicep. Still, we were a lot closer than I’d expected he’d be comfortable with given how awkward he was with mild flirtation.
He squinted at the ghosts. “It would take a bunch of power to maintain something like this. We should see the caster here, or nearby.”
“You really aren’t going to give up... on this, are you?” I said.
“You were about to say ‘give up the ghost,’” he accused, his brow furrowed.
“I would never make puns when we’re in danger,” I said. “I havesomestandards.”
I had very, very much been about to make that joke, but had decided that the poor baby alchemist who was having his whole world rocked by a very real haunting needed a break.
“If there were ghosts, then wouldn’t more people have seen them?” King said.
“I mean, plenty of people have seen them,” I said. “Just because alchemists discount their stories doesn’t make them less true.”
“Okay, but,” he sighed. “Ifghosts are real. How do we get rid of these? I didn’t see any more bones.”
“The spell book says remains, names, or duke it out,” I said.
“How do you duke it out with a ghost?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I didn’t get that far.”
Turning to me, he said, “You came to a haunted house, and you didn’t do the research ahead of time?”
“To be honest, I kind of figured that I’d wing it as I went,” I said.
My plan had been to use my real magic. Me, with full powers against a single ghost? I could probably win. Me sticking to witchcraft? Maybe. Me, sticking to witchcraft while hiding what I actually am from a sharp alchemist? I mean, I wouldn’t put good money on me.
The ghosts didn’t seem to be talking to each other, but they turned their heads in unison, which was not at all the creepiest thing I’d ever seen, and then disappeared at the same time.
“Do you think they’re gone?” King asked.
“For now,” I guessed. “I’m not sure where, though.”
“Okay, names. What do you know about the old spiritualist? The one who died here,” King said. He took out his cop-notepad,ready to take notes. It involved him shifting his arm and crowding close to me on the other side. I definitely didn’t mind that chest full of muscles pressed against me.
The case, I reminded myself. We had to stay alive. Otherwise sex went from maybe to a solid no.
