Page 5 of Specters & Spotlights

“Poor thing,” Elise murmured, wrapping another curl. The air was thick now with the scent of warming hair and product.

Kevin’s tone shifted slightly. “But there is one you’ll want to keep an eye on. An actor. Nervous type. Seems stuck in some kind of loop, pacing and mumbling lines from an opening night that never came. Too much energy. You can feel it fizzing off him like static.”

Elise looked up. “Poltergeist-y?”

“No,” Kevin frowned. “Not violent. But I suspect he’s accidentally flung a clipboard or two. Wouldn’t trust him near a fog machine.”

Once the last curl was pinned and cooling, Elise let her hands fall to her lap. The room, thick with the scent of hair spray and warm metal, was finally quiet—the kind of quiet you noticed after. She clicked off the iron and let it rest on its trivet.

Her fingers, still tingling, reached for the outer pocket of her carry-on. She drew out a small tin the size of a recipe box, matte black and worn at the edges. Inside: her warding kit.

Part travel altar, part magical first-aid, part emotional support box. A practical joke turned necessary ritual. Cici had called it “spirit-proofing on the go” when she’d given it to Elise for Christmas three years ago.

Elise didn’t have magic herself, aside from her ghostly perception skills. Not the kind of ability that made spells hum or candles flicker. But Cici did. And Elise knew Cici’s spells held power. She just wasn’t always sure how much these little protective doo-dads helped—or if they simply made her feel braver.

A sprig of dried lavender rested in a ceramic dish the size of a teacup. There was palo santo worn to a nub, a tiny sachet of rosemary and mugwort wrapped in red thread, and a dull iron nail tied to a braided string.

Cici had once said, “If you believe it helps, it does.”

So Elise placed each item with care: the nail behind the doorframe, the lavender under the sink, the bundle of herbs beside the mirror. Her eyes lingered on her reflection for a moment.

She looked like someone halfway between arrival and unraveling. Thin, pale, the beginnings of dark circles settling in like smudged mascara. Her curls were a little frizzed from travel, her brown eyes carrying that quietly haunted look she hadn't quite managed to shake in the last few years. The black long-sleeved shirt she wore clung like armor, the ink on her forearms hidden beneath the fabric… for now. She needed sleep. Or tea. Or a less complicated life.

But this was the life she had. And she was here now.

The last thing in the box was a silver pocket watch, with a floral etching on the back and a delicate chain. It had stopped ticking long ago, but Elise swore it hummed softly if you held it close enough. She set it gently on the shelf above the wig trunk, tucked behind a tin of bobby pins, safe and out of sight, looking briefly to Kevin for his approval on the placement of the object that tethered him to this realm. He shrugged.

Satisfied, she turned her attention back to the wig. She picked up the three-eighth inch iron and a wide-toothed comb, delicately teasing the curls into waves that would ripple when the lights hit just right. The finer wispies at the temple were next—difficult, stubborn, the part most likely to burn.

She was pressing the barrel to a fragile curl when the door creaked open and she felt someone step into the room.

She glanced up, comb still poised, and barely had a second before⁠—

“Look what the theatre gods dragged in! My backstage better half!”

Nick swept into the wig closet like he was making a stage entrance, arms wide open, eyes sparkling. Elise startled so hard she nearly jabbed herself in the temple with the comb.

“Sorry!” Nick winced mid-stride, already crossing to her. “Gods, I forgot how jumpy you are.”

He pulled her into a bear hug before she could recover—a blur of warmth, lavender dryer sheets, and that high-hold hair gel he’d apparently never given up. She let herself be held for a second longer than necessary, just breathing.

“It’s been ages,” he said, pulling back with a grin so bright it could’ve lit the ghost light on its own. “It’s been what… a year? No, longer. You look the same. Better, actually. Infuriating.”

She huffed a laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Hi, Nick.”

Closer to fifteen months, she thought, though she didn’t correct him. They’d both been part of the original First National tour in its early, chaotic days when the set wasn’t finished and the lighting cues kept catching fire (metaphorically and once, unfortunately, literally). Elise had always appreciated Nick’s ability to make things feel lighter—effortlessly charming, generous with his time, and immune to the petty rivalries that flared up when a company ran on caffeine and adrenaline. As a swing in the ensemble, he’d always made time for the wig crew, cracking jokes and lightening the mood during endless tech rehearsals. She’d missed him more than she expected when he transferred to the Second National company to take on the role of Wickham, which had recently been upgraded to the role of Darcy’s understudy. Ever since the decision was made to send Elise on this whirlwind reassignment, she’d been looking forward to this reunion.

Behind her, Kevin made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a very theatrical groan.

“Ah, yes. The theatrical peacock returns. All feathers, no poise.”

Elise bit back a grin and raised an eyebrow, nodding toward the chaos of foam heads and half-curled heaps behind him. “I heard you barely made it through the show last night without someone running this closet. You all really didn’t make my first day on the job easy.”

Nick’s laugh was bright and unapologetic. “As soon as we heard you were joining, I started spreading the hype. Told them you were a miracle worker, that the cavalry was coming. And that, bonus, you’re an absolute delight.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “I’m afraid to ask what else you told them.”

“Only the truth,” he said, hands clasped theatrically over his heart. “That you’re the best in the business. And that you’d fit right in. We’ve been needing a little more heart around here.”