Spirit Storm (Spirit Guide, #2)

by E.J. Stevens

  “Unfortunately yes,” Emma said, starting to laugh. “All the dogs started barking and my supervisor had to ask him to leave.”

  That was Gordy. The eternal goofball. Some things never change.

  “So when you picked up Duvet today something happened?” Cal asked, carrying over our steaming mugs of tea.

  “Yeah, something happened all right,” she answered. “I was holding Duvet and she just started talking, but not really with her mouth. It was like someone was beaming the thoughts into my head. She said Yuki was in danger. You believe me don’t you?”

  “I smell dead people and my boyfriend’s a werewolf,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Of course I believe you.”

  “Did she say anything else?” Cal asked.

  “No, she just went back to being a normal snake,” Emma answered. “No more voices after that, but it doesn’t lessen the creep factor. I don’t know how you two deal with it all the time, but you can keep the crazy to yourselves. I’ve had enough.”

  “Good luck with that,” I said, blowing across the top of my tea. “Anyway, we have bigger fish to fry.”

  “Did you have to say that?” Emma asked with an exaggerated shudder. “The poor little fish!”

  She may have had a brush with the paranormal, but Emma was still Emma. Some things never change.

  I was beginning to feel thankful for that. My life was changing so fast, and so many things were out of my control, I felt like the leaf swept up by the wind which swirls dizzily in mini tornadoes of someone else’s making. The storm winds may shake me, and at times even force me to dance to their chaotic tune, but Calvin and his wolf spirit would be my shield and Emma would keep me grounded to reality. Emma was the root and branch that held me in place.

  The cabin door opened and Simon shook himself, splattering rain drops all over Emma, and leaving his wet hair sticking out in all directions. So not good. Simon was one of the Old Ones, yet unusual for his kind. He had been born with an awareness of his wolf spirit, something which usually developed as the human host matured, which left him a bit…off. Simon had a slightly feral look in his eye and a wildness which didn’t go away as the new moon neared, but his closeness to his spirit wolf gave him insight and wisdom which far exceeded his years. Not that he was young. Simon was in his late thirties, something I never failed to remind him of. Unfortunately that didn’t mean he was overly mature. Simon and Emma never missed a chance to argue over the most trivial thing.

  “I guess it’s true what they say about the inability to teach old dogs new tricks,” Emma said archly. “I see you haven’t house trained this one yet.”

  Emma turned her back on Simon and missed the look of pure fury which raged across his face. It only lasted a second, but for that moment there was nothing human in his glare. He gained control of his wolf quickly though and shrugged, flicking more water on Emma, a slow predatory grin sliding across his handsome face.

  “Is there a reason you smell like reptiles today?” Simon asked, looking steadily at Emma. “Something you’d like to share with the class? Finally found life forms as cold blooded as yourself?”

  Son of a dung beetle. If someone didn’t nip this in the bud, they would go on like this all night. “Emma had an experience with a snake,” I said. “She was just telling us about it.”

  “Sounds kinky,” Simon said, still grinning.

  “That’s enough,” Calvin said. “We have important work to do and I need your report.”

  To my surprise Simon obeyed. I was still getting used to Cal’s alpha status and what that meant. Simon often acted in the role of our teacher, but when it came to direct orders from Cal he listened. You hear about some people being born leaders, but in Cal’s case it was true. He had been born with the spirit of the alpha wolf inside of him which meant he led the pack. Now that the pack was being threatened I could see the full weight of that responsibility in the dark smudges and tightness around his eyes.

  “We know who our victim is, or was, and what he was doing in the woods,” Simon said. “It looks like someone knew Gavin’s routine and followed him once he shifted into wolf form. Poor man never even knew what hit him.”

  “How was he killed?” Calvin asked. “Do we have any idea?”

  “Blow to the head,” Simon answered. “But that’s where it gets weird. First, it’s hard to sneak up on one of us. Second, I smelled a werewolf, other than Gavin, there at the scene.”

  “What?” Cal asked incredulously. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Wait, it gets even more bizarre,” Simon said, pulling a plastic bag from his pocket. “These items were under the body.”

  Body. I felt like I was going to be sick. I tried not to picture the wolf from Cal’s phone, but the image was permanently etched into my brain. Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts.

  “You may want to get your girlfriend a glass of water,” Simon said to Cal. “I like my girls pale, but she’s beginning to look a bit green. No offense, love.”

  “None taken Old Man,” I wanted to quip, but a sudden roaring in my ears was distracting me and I had the nagging feeling opening my mouth was a bad idea.

  “Yuki?” Cal asked, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “You alright?”

  “Help her put her head between her knees,” Emma instructed.

  Cal rubbed my back as I stuck my head between my knees. Great. Now all eyes were on me and I looked like a freak…or a turtle. Teenage Mutant Ninja Freak.

  “Go ahead you guys,” I mumbled, waving a hand for them to continue. “Don’t mind me.” Nothing to see here.

  “Okay kitten, if you insist,” Simon said.

  I felt Cal growl as it rippled down his arm and through the hand which still rested on my back. “What’s in the bag?” Cal asked, his voice deadly serious.

  Simon blinked at the plastic bag in his hands and set it on the coffee table. “Found these bits beneath the body,” Simon said. “Seems our killer is a nutter. Joe Schmoe sociopath. He left some weird religious odds and ends. I’d bet a dance with the devil that bullet and cross are made of silver.”

  My curiosity won out over my nausea and I pulled myself back to a sitting position so I could see the contents of the bag. The bag was clear plastic and nestled inside were what looked to be a silver bullet, metal cross, and an assortment of dead plants.

  “This guy has issues,” Emma said. “Issues plural. Definitely not a werewolf lover that’s for sure.”

  “Our man is quite the wolf hater,” Simon agreed.

  Simon and Emma never agreed on anything, ever, but the items did seem to fit the profile of someone with a deep hatred for werewolves. “So the attack wasn’t random,” Calvin said and sighed.

  “He wasn’t shot was he?” I asked.

  “No the bludgeoning was quite adequate to ensure his death sweetheart,” Simon answered.

  I ignored his teasing and pushed on. “So the bullet is just symbolic then,” I said. I wasn’t sure if it was important, but I wanted to understand what each of the items meant to the killer. Maybe the items in the bag could help lead us to him.

  “That’s a good point,” Cal said. “What are the other items? Are those plants?”

  Emma leaned forward for a closer look and froze, only her eyes continued moving to look up at Simon. “Simon, did you touch any of these plants?” she asked.

  “No darling, I’m not that naïve,” Simon scoffed. “I know better than to touch evidence.”

  “Good, that knowledge probably saved your life,” she said. “That piece of flowering plant is an aconite commonly known as Wolfsbane. It may be symbolic for repelling werewolves, but it is also a very toxic plant. Fatal doses of the poison can easily be absorbed through the skin.”

  Son of a dung beetle. This was getting way creepy. I felt like spiders were crawling under my skin. Even Simon looked disconcerted.

  “This bit of leafy branch is from a Mountain Ash or Rowan tree,” Emma said. “You may all recognize the last plant as mistletoe.
Mistletoe can be poisonous if ingested, but I think what all of these items have in common are their symbolic uses as werewolf wards. Many werewolf superstitions include at least one of them.”

  “Maybe he just wanted the mistletoe for when he met pretty girls,” Simon quipped. “All men can’t be as devastatingly handsome as me.”

  I just rolled my eyes at Simon, but Emma looked ready for a fight. Fortunately Calvin chose that moment to take control and tell them about our plan. He assigned each of us a list of names and instructed us on what to say when we called. We wanted to avoid mass panic, and we had to be careful to only speak about the Old Blood to actual members of the pack. It wouldn’t do to tell the human babysitter that a raging, murderous, psychopath werewolf was on the loose. I don’t think she’d take the news very well.

  Each of us found a dry place to settle in with our cell phone and list of names. Taking a deep breath I reached out and squeezed Cal’s hand, our eyes meeting for just a moment, reassuring each other everything would be okay, but the reality was that things may never be okay again. The storm was coming. I had less than two weeks to prepare for the bombardment of angry spirits who threatened to drive me insane, or worse, on Samhain, and a madman, probably a werewolf, was hunting the members of Calvin’s pack. Cal, my friends and I were needed to stop the loss of more life. I felt a cold sliver of fear. We were running short on days before Samhain and couldn’t tackle more than one problem at a time. I hoped that we found this killer soon so we could get back to working on solving my predicament. Thunder rolled in the distance, lightning flashed, and rain began drumming hard against the cabin roof. Not usually a good sign.

  Bad omens and bitter portents. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 4

  October 21st Maine

  It was the beginning of a new day. The storm had cleared and the sun was shining in a cloudless sky. Rain and high winds had torn freshly turned autumn leaves from the trees and the newly carpeted lawn resembled an orange, brown, and red patchwork quilt. I reached my hand to the glass pane of my bedroom window and let the cold seep into the pads of my fingers.

  Fall had always been my favorite time of year. A time for candy apples, cool breezes, and curling up with a good book. The chill of the glass pane was a reminder that soon it would be time to huddle inside our homes for the long Maine winter. I always longed for those first few weeks of winter snow when everything outside is blanketed in white, a hushed silence descends, and we all feel safe in the comfort of our warm hearths and homes.

  As I pulled my hand away from the window I set bells jangling on their string. I had placed them across my window a few weeks ago when I was worried about the retribution of an old lady I suspected of murdering her husband. Grace hadn’t sought revenge, I don’t think she ever became aware of my role in helping her husband’s spirit find peace, but the bells remained. I often felt as though someone was watching me and now there was a murderer on the loose. I shivered and turned from the window. I don’t think I’ll ever feel safe in my home again. Well that’s positive thinking Yuki. Way to start the day.

  If I was going to feel gloomy I might as well get ready for school. I grabbed my backpack and, with a sigh, began loading it up with notebooks, pens, and our lists from last night. Pulling on arm warmers and wrapping a scarf around my neck I surveyed my room. What else would I need to survive a day of high school? Removing my phone from its charger I slipped it into my coat pocket. Glancing back, I decided to bring the charger as well. I wasn’t sure when I’d be home next. Heading down the stairs to the front door, I turned sharply to the left, my bag swinging wide, and made a quick detour to the kitchen. Opening the pantry door I scanned the shelves for food. This could be another very long day.

  I ran to the front door when I heard a truck horn beep once in the driveway. Cal. My heart swelled and my stomach began dancing a tango. I zipped up my backpack, checked the locks, and went to face the one wonderful part of my day.

  I couldn’t help the grin that stretched across my face as I climbed up into Calvin’s truck. I knew we had things to be worried about and it probably was somehow taboo to be so incredibly happy, if only for this brief moment, when people were frightened and a man’s family was so freshly mourning his loss. The logical part of my brain thought about these things, and even tried to school my face into a mask of solemnity, but my heart had other plans. As I leaned in close to Cal I could see the marks of worry and lack of sleep in the lines of his face and the dark bruised circles beneath his eyes, but as I smiled at him his eyes shone with an inner light and his lips curled up in a breathtaking grin.

  “Morning Princess,” Cal said as his warm lips brushed mine. His hands cupped the back of my head and I reached up to lace my fingers behind his neck. I closed my eyes as we kissed, floating in my own little world of happy.

  As we pressed closer together, I felt the heavy iron cross I was wearing press hard against my chest just as Calvin mumbled, “Ouch!”

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to refocus.

  “And this is for?” Calvin asked, lifting the offending cross.

  “Spirits, demons, creatures of the night,” I answered. “Why? It didn’t burn you did it?” I asked teasingly.

  “I fear I have passed your test,” Cal answered, raising his hands to his chest in mock horror. “Whatever shall the other night creatures think?”

  “You totally just lost your monster street cred,” I said.

  “I thought you were going to wear your safety pin shirt every day,” Cal said. “Where’s your lucky chain mail?”

  “I can’t wear it every day,” I answered. “I have to wash it occasionally. Otherwise it would be gross. I don’t want to smell like a boy.”

  “Boys everywhere take offense to that,” Cal said, grinning.

  “They can get in line,” I said. I laughed and, shifting my cross pendant to the side, leaned in for another kiss before we had to drive to school and leave our cocoon of laughter and sunlight.

  *****

  The school day dragged and lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough. The events of the previous day weighed on my mind and my backpack seemed to grow heavier as I hauled it through the halls between each class. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought that five pound bag of trail mix.

  I tried to summon a bit of enthusiasm as, lifting my bag higher on my shoulder, I walked to the cafeteria trying not to drag my booted feet. My pace quickened as I smelled the glorious aroma of warm brownies.

  “Someone’s baking brownies!” I exclaimed as I sat across from Emma at the lunch table.

  “If that’s a euphemism for bodily functions, it is so not funny,” Emma said, crossing her arms.

  “Dude, don’t you smell that?” I asked. “It’s making me hungry.”

  “Well, if they are making brownies I won’t be able to eat them anyway,” Emma said with a sigh. “It’s not like they’d bother to make them vegan.”

  “How do you make them vegan?” I asked suddenly curious. “Don’t you need eggs and butter?”

  “No way,” Emma answered. “You just use applesauce instead. No embryonic chickens or dairy products necessary.”

  I suddenly didn’t feel much like eating brownies. Fortunately for me whoever was doing the baking must have left them in the oven too long and the smell of burning brownies diminished my urge for chocolate. “Smells like you won’t be tempted by the evil death brownies after all,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Not unless you like them extra crispy.”

  “What’s extra crispy?” Cal asked as he slid into the seat beside me.

  “Burnt brownies,” I answered. “Can’t you smell them?”

  “Yuki, my sense of smell is pretty amazing and all I smell is chop suey and gym socks,” Cal said.

  Spending lunch with my friends was turning into a great diet plan.

  “It’s probably just one of her ghost buddies,” Emma said, looking over at Calvin.

  Son of a dung beetle. “Not again,” I groaned, putting my hea
d in my hands.

  “At least it doesn’t smell like vinegar,” Emma said encouragingly.

  Oh yeah, what an improvement. Burning brownies smell just super. I was in Hell and someone had been thoughtful enough to bring the brownie mix. Fantastic.

  “I wonder…,” Cal mumbled quietly, looking thoughtful.

  “You wonder what?” I asked. “If you’re wondering why I, of all people, have to be haunted by smell impressions, don’t strain your brain. I have that market cornered.”

  Cal blinked and looked back and forth between me and Emma. “Did that make any sense?” he asked. I kicked him playfully under the table which seemed to jog his memory. “I was wondering if this smell impression could belong to the ghost of Gavin Sanders. He just died and may be attached to you because of your involvement with the case.”

  “And it’s not like Maine is a hotbed of violent crime,” Emma added.

  Emma and Cal were probably right. It was entirely possible Gavin’s spirit had found me. I was a total ghost magnet, much to my chagrin. There was no real evidence though to my new haunt’s identity. Until I had more details, I wasn’t ruling anything out. Looks like I was going to have to put some of my newly learned research skills to work.

  “So what’s the plan for after school?” I asked. “Anyone up for some research at the library?”

  Emma’s eyes lit up at the mention of research, but then she sighed looking a bit deflated. “I have a shift at the veterinary clinic today, but I can drop you off on my way to work and join you guys later if you’re still doing research.” She started to cheer up again at the prospect of hitting the stacks after work. Emma was a total research addict.

  “I was going to meet up with Simon and check out the woods where they found Gavin,” Cal said. “Last night’s storm probably erased any evidence, but I’d still like to get a look at the location. Maybe there’s something about the place that Simon missed.”

  I was suddenly very excited at the prospect of doing research inside the library. Cal was the outdoorsy one, not me, and I could totally skip sniffing around the spot where someone died. Where a man was murdered.