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CHAPTER
ONE
RULE #3: THE RULE OF THREES
Trouble often comes in threes. The worse the haunting, the more serious this becomes. Keep three in mind when investigating potential entity phenomena. Let’s just say, the number three is no coincidence when it comes to the paranormal.
For instance:
One knock? Could just be a drafty old house.
Two knocks? If it isn’t a human at the door, watch your back.
Three knocks? If you haven’t updated your next of kin, now might be the time.
Keep a cool head and trust your official ExorSquad Ltd. equipment to handle the job.
Note: ExorSquad Ltd. accepts no liability for injury, death, dismemberment, possession, spontaneous combustion, or unauthorized eternal damnation.
—ExorSquad Employee Safety Manual and Operational Guidelines (Revised Edition)
Callum
Christ on a bike. How has my sorry excuse for a life come to this?
Mimi Dalton, the owner of Salon de Spin, studies me skeptically from where she sits behind her office desk. “Gerald over at ExorSquad told that you’re a”—she looks at the notes in front of her—“a Spirit Extraction Specialist but you used to be”—she turns the page—“a detective inspector for the Met?”
I try not to wince at the new title, or the lingering pain of the old one, and clear my throat.
“Aye, that’s right.”
I’d been a detective inspector much longer than I’ve been in my current role. At one time, my entire life had been my career. I lived and breathed working for the Met. Then one close call brought me face-to-face with the supernatural in a manner I couldn’t deny, no matter how hard I tried.
It ultimately set me on the path to where I am now, hunting ghosts and trying to reclaim control over my life after it all went pear-shaped. I’m hoping this case will give me some much-needed answers in addition to experience.
But at the moment, it’s like I’m fumbling about in the dark without a torch, and I’m just as clueless about what I’m dealing with now as when I almost died on my last case as a DI five years ago.
Relief washes over Mimi’s face. “A friend put me in contact with ExorSquad when I was nearly at my wit’s end. Gerald assured me you’d be able to handle my little problem. He’s made me feel so much better about this whole mess.”
I don’t bloody doubt it. Gerald’s got the air of a skeevy used car salesman about him, but he knows how to tell anxious clients exactly what they want to hear.
Way to throw me under the bus, Gerald. If this all goes tits up, I’ll be the one to blame, no doubt.
Bastard.
Mimi leans forward, clasping her hands together on her desk. She’s in her mid-thirties and dressed head to toe in a pink athleisure sweatsuit with some logo I don’t know from Adam, but I can tell the outfit’s expensive. Her blond hair’s pulled up into a sleek ponytail, and her white trainers look like they’ve never set foot on a London street.
“I’ll be honest, Mr. Fraser, I desperately need your help. My studio’s barely been open a month and I’m losing clients left and right due to the… strange phenomena that’ve been happening.”
She shifts uncomfortably in her office chair, and I don’t blame her. Five years ago, if you’d asked me if ghosts were real, I would’ve told you that’s a load of pish.
I keep my expression blank and don’t bother to tell her that the so-called Spirit Extraction Specialist training I very recently received with ExorSquad is laughable at best. I also refrain from sharing that this is my first bona fide case with the company. My new boss, Gerald Pickett, dumped this one on me and didn’t seem to be concerned about my lack of experience—even when I flatly rejected his attempt to assign me an ExorSquad partner.
When I stumbled across one of ExorSquad’s adverts a few weeks ago, I knew I had to investigate. After all, I’d found few answers for the mysteries plaguing my life now that I can see dead people. Fucking hell, I’ve basically turned into that kid in The Sixth Sense except that I can’t communicate with any of them. I see them clear as day, but it’s radio silence. I’m not even sure if ghosts can talk, to be honest.
All this is to say, I was fucking desperate when I signed up with ExorSquad. Sadly, the answers I was hoping for didn’t come. Instead, I was given a brief orientation, a questionable handbook, some weird gadgets that I’m not convinced do much of anything, and sent on my merry way.
Some days I can’t fathom the bizarre turn my life’s taken.
