Freaky Rites (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 6)

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Freaky Rites (A Mystic Caravan Mystery Book 6) Page 16

by Amanda M. Lee


  “Not until Halloween.”

  “Okay, well, why are you so worried about dying if you’re not sick?” I was genuinely curious. Troy was far too young to let heavy thoughts like that ruin his day. “You should have fun instead of worrying about stuff like that. It’s the circus, after all. The circus is supposed to be fun.”

  “Yeah, but this circus is surrounded by ghosts and I’m the only one who can see them,” Troy replied, causing my heart to stutter. “They’re everywhere. And if I’m the only one who can see them, that must mean they’re here for me, right?”

  I glanced around to make sure no one was listening before kneeling so I was at eye level with Troy. “Ghosts? You see ghosts?”

  The boy nodded, his green eyes full of worry. “I pointed them out to my brother, but he couldn’t see them.”

  “Where?”

  Troy pointed toward the now-familiar tree line. “They’re over there. One of them is even wearing a hat. He’s been waving at me.”

  I had no idea what to say. “They’re not here for you,” I blurted out quickly, hoping I sounded more reassuring than I felt. “I promise. They’re here for … the circus.”

  “They haunt the circus?” Troy didn’t look convinced.

  “They’re here for us,” I answered. “They’re … part of the show.”

  “Oh.” Apparently my answer made sense, because he brightened considerably. “Are they really here to be part of the show?”

  “They really are,” I confirmed. “But they get unruly sometimes, so don’t go over to talk with them. They don’t like it.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to talk to them. They’re weird.”

  “They’re definitely weird.” I straightened as I looked over the crowd for a familiar face. Unfortunately, anyone I could talk to about this was either busy or elsewhere. “You be good and stick close to your brother and parents, okay? I promise those ghosts aren’t here for you.”

  “I’m just glad I’m not going to die.” Troy was earnest. “That would’ve really blown monkey chunks.”

  “The biggest monkey chunks in the world,” I agreed. “You’re okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

  17

  Seventeen

  I raced straight for the dreamcatcher line, narrowing my eyes as I scanned the strip of land separating the circus grounds and the trees. There was nothing there, no ghosts or shadow movement. It looked like a perfectly nice, sunny day.

  Except Troy said he saw ghosts. Sometimes children can more easily see certain things because their minds aren’t closed off to possibilities, but I was dumbfounded that Troy could see the ghosts when I couldn’t. It didn’t seem possible.

  Yet I believed him.

  “What’s going on?” Nellie appeared behind the beer tent – this wasn’t a dry event, which I think we all preferred because the ghosts were going to drive us to drink – and he looked concerned.

  “I’m not sure.” I flicked my eyes to him, grimacing at his new dress. “Is that … velvet?”

  “Pink velvet.” Nellie smoothed the front of the dress and grinned. “I ordered it online. It’s fabulous.”

  I blinked several times. I never quite “got” Nellie. He liked to cross-dress, which I was fine with, but sometimes I thought he did it only to irritate others and sometimes I recognized he did it because he was a slave to fashion. He was an odd guy … who I loved despite his eccentricities.

  “It’s definitely fabulous,” I said finally, taking a moment to finger the heavy straps. “It also looks as if you’ll be able to wear it into battle without risking a wardrobe malfunction.”

  Nellie’s smile was sly. “Nothing wrong with a good wardrobe malfunction!”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it.” I turned my attention back to the dreamcatcher line. It remained quiet, untouched and unbothered.

  “What’s wrong?” Nellie prodded. “I saw you by the midway. You went almost completely white when talking to that boy. I know something’s bothering you.”

  “He said he thinks he’s going to die.”

  Nellie remained calm. “Okay, but … he’s a boy. He probably watched some horribly violent movie and got it stuck in his head. Half the fun of being a kid is overreacting about stuff and getting scared by horror movies we shouldn’t have watched in the first place.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, or that he was sick and I didn’t realize it. That’s not why he thinks he’s going to die, though.”

  “I’ll bite. Why does he think he’s going to die?”

  “Because of the ghosts only he can see,” I answered without hesitation. “He says they’re all around the circus and some are waving at him. His brother can’t see them. He believes they’re here for him.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nellie swore under his breath as he gazed at the trees. “I thought those things were only coming out at night.”

  “I did, too.”

  “So … why can’t we see them?”

  “Maybe they don’t want us to see them.” I worked various scenarios through my head. “Maybe they want us to see them at night, but they’re only here to observe during the day and don’t want to tip us off.”

  “That would suggest someone is issuing them orders.”

  “Or they’re coming up with plans themselves.”

  “Except they don’t exactly seem like great thinkers,” Nellie countered. “I definitely think someone is controlling them.”

  That was my initial thought, too. Now I wasn’t so sure. “Keep your eyes open,” I said finally. “Make sure everyone is on top of their game. Don’t let the guests wander over the dreamcatcher.”

  “Do you think the ghosts will hurt them?”

  “I have no idea. Better safe than sorry, though, right?”

  “I think that depends on whether or not you look good in pink velvet.” Nellie offered me a lopsided grin. “It’s best to be fearless when it comes to fashion.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from returning the smile. “Good to know.”

  I WAS HYPER-VIGILANT for the rest of the day, going through the motions during readings and returning to the dreamcatcher boundary on every break to make sure nothing had changed.

  Time crept by.

  When darkness fell and the inevitable fog followed, my circus workers were clearly edgy. The locals, however, didn’t seem at all twisted by the eerie ambiance. They ignored the shifting fog and winds, oblivious of our anxiety.

  I found Troy as he was leaving, his brother standing close to him, toward the front of the circus as their parents used the restrooms before hitting the parking lot.

  “What do you see?” I lowered myself to a knee so I was closer to Troy’s height and scanned the area on the other side of the dreamcatcher.

  “They’re brighter now,” Troy replied, his features more ashen than earlier. “They’re everywhere.”

  “Yeah.” I could see the ghosts, too, although they hadn’t fully formed yet. Now they were back to being the shadow hunters Caroline first warned us about, faceless blobs. Just bits of movement that were hard to make out. It wouldn’t be long until they were completely back. Thankfully they didn’t glow without magical aid because I had no inclination of how to explain what we were dealing with to fearful guests. “They’re not here for you.”

  Troy’s expression remained grim. “You don’t know that.”

  “Trust me. I’ll get you to your car and you’ll be fine.”

  Troy’s brother, Marcus, who looked to be about thirteen, fixed me with a suspicious look when he saw me talking to his sibling. “He’s not interested in being kidnapped,” the older boy said, indignant. “If you try to take him I’ll scream because my parents will ground me if he goes missing.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Troy and I are old friends. I’m not trying to kidnap him. We’re simply talking about … other stuff.”

  The brother looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on the vee in my shirt as his interest coalesced. “What kind of stuff?” />
  Oh, geez. Teenagers should come with a manual to wade through the inappropriate sexual years. All those hormones made them slaves to stupidity. This kid was a walking idiot of some insanely high level. “Serious stuff,” I replied without hesitation. “You probably wouldn’t understand.”

  The look Troy shot me was full of profound gratitude as a little color returned to his cheeks. He was bolder when his parents returned. “This is my mom and dad.”

  “Poet Parker.” I extended my hand toward the mother because she was the one who looked most worried about my intentions. This wasn’t my first time soothing a worried parent, and I knew exactly how to approach her. “I met Troy earlier on the midway. I’m second in command here at Mystic Caravan. It’s my job to make sure everyone is having a good time.”

  “Oh, well, of course.” The woman looked visibly relieved as she straightened her shoulders. “I’m Vivian Brooks, Troy’s mother. Do you spend a lot of time wandering around getting to know guests?”

  I nodded. “I’m the resident fortune teller, but I take breaks throughout the afternoon and it’s part of my job to tour the grounds.”

  “Oh, well, that’s nice.” Whatever reluctance she held onto faded as she gripped Troy’s hand and smiled at me. “We had a fabulous time, if you’re looking for feedback.”

  “I’m glad.” I meant it. “Are you leaving now?”

  “We are.”

  “I’ll walk with you to the parking lot. I was heading in that direction anyway.”

  “You were?” Vivian furrowed her brow but ultimately shrugged before falling into step with me. “May I ask how often you travel? I’m fascinated by the little community you seem to have built here. I mean … look at that.” She pointed at trailer row. “Do you all eat together every meal?”

  I understood her curiosity. Everyone wondered on some level how we lived our lives. “I wouldn’t say we eat together every meal.” I kept my voice amiable as I carefully watched the shadows. If one of the shadow hunters made a run at Troy I’d have to fight. I had no idea what that would entail, but there was no way I would let the boy get hurt. I made a promise, after all.

  “We have big dinners together almost every night,” I continued, doing my best to pretend the subject didn’t bore me. “We are mostly on our own for breakfast unless we need to coordinate something, and then we usually talk business over our meal. We rarely eat lunch together because we’ve usually got so much going on.”

  “Oh, well, that’s interesting.” The woman focused on our trailers as we passed. “Do you have children running around?”

  “You mean traveling with us?” I wanted to laugh out loud at the suggestion but I thought that would make her uncomfortable. “There are no children who travel with us. This isn’t really a life for children.”

  “Who is it a life for?” Troy asked, his young face full of interest and intrigue.

  “Those who want to see the world,” I replied as I smiled at him. “It’s not an easy life and most people in this business don’t have families, so the travel isn’t a hardship.”

  Understanding passed over Vivian’s face, but Troy obviously didn’t grasp what I was saying.

  “You don’t have a family?” he pursed his lips. “I thought everyone had a family.”

  “Not really.” I didn’t want to get into a philosophical discussion with an eight-year-old, but it appeared that was on my evening agenda. “You see, the thing is, I had a mother and father when I was younger, but they died when I was a teenager.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” Vivian clucked her tongue as she shook her head. “How did you end up with the circus?”

  I saw no reason to lie. “I was on the streets in Detroit when I ran into the owner of Mystic Caravan. We got to talking, he asked about my skills set while buying me a meal I desperately needed, and then he offered me a job.

  “He told me it was never going to be easy and required a lot of hard work,” I continued. “He told me that he watched his workers closely and thought I might fit in. He also told me there are different kinds of family.”

  Troy flicked his eyes to his mother. “But … I already have my family.”

  I chuckled at his expression. “I can tell you’re a worrier.”

  “He definitely is,” Vivian agreed. “He’s a sensitive soul. I don’t know where he gets it from. His father and I aren’t like that.”

  Sensitive soul. Hmm. That’s how most of my teachers described me before it became apparent that I could read minds. I couldn’t help but wonder if Troy was suffering from the same affliction. I almost immediately discarded the notion. If he could read or infiltrate minds he would’ve tipped his hand earlier. I had no doubt he was sensitive. That didn’t mean he was psychic, though.

  “I’m sure he’ll grow out of it,” I offered. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being sensitive. Some of my best friends are sensitive. As for family, while I don’t have any left – or at least I have no idea where the people I do have left are – I have a new family of sorts.”

  Troy tilted his head to the side. “You do?”

  I nodded. “Sometimes you’re born into a family and sometimes you make one yourself.”

  “Do you like your new family?”

  I pictured Nellie’s velvet pink dress and thought about Luke’s constant meltdowns. “Most of the time,” I said finally. “Every family argues, just like you and your brother. It’s the nature of the world. But every family loves, too.”

  Vivian beamed at me as Troy scowled.

  “I don’t think my brother loves anything but his PlayStation,” he grumbled, causing me to laugh.

  “I think you’ll find out differently as you get older.”

  I MADE SURE TROY and his parents were safely loaded into their vehicle, offering a wide smile and enthusiastic wave as they pulled out of the parking lot. I remained rooted to my spot until Raven joined me, her expression bemused.

  “I never pictured you as the motherly sort,” she drawled. “You were doting on that kid. What gives?”

  “He’s either psychic or overly sensitive,” I replied. “He can see the ghosts.”

  “I think a lot of people can see the ghosts now that it’s dark,” Raven countered. “I’ve seen a few people glance in their direction. Most of them convince themselves they’re imagining things. If they look like they’re going to say anything, I crawl into their heads and give them a nudge in the opposite direction. He’s a kid. He’s more apt to believe.”

  “It’s not that. He saw them bright as day … and during the day.”

  Raven stilled, her expression thoughtful. “He saw them during the day? How can you be sure he really did see something and didn’t make it up?”

  “He mentioned the one in the hat waving to him.”

  “Son of a … !” Raven viciously swore under her breath. “Well, that just figures. Here we thought they were only coming out at night, but it turns out they’re here all day. I wonder why we can’t see them.”

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that.” I rolled my neck until it cracked and turned to walk back to the fairgrounds. Security was emptying out the place, which was good for what needed to be done, but it would be at least an hour before we were free to take on our shadowy friends. “I think either they don’t want us to see them and they’re purposely shielding their existence or the sun is keeping them hidden between planes.”

  “You think they’re on a different plane?” Raven was understandably intrigued as she stopped next to my trailer and stared at my mirror shadow. The woman followed me from the circus to the parking lot and back, the way she carried herself somehow suggesting she was grim … and possibly angry.

  “I think they might be on a different plane,” I cautioned. “That plane could be really close, though, like one hop over. That’s why we have an easier time seeing them at night.”

  “Because the veil between the worlds is thinner at night,” Raven mused, tapping her chin as she watched the apparition. Withou
t Max’s magical help and thanks to the increasing fog, the ethereal figure wasn’t easy to make out. “I’m glad they don’t glow. We would never be able to explain them if they glowed.”

  I chuckled. “I was thinking that same thing when I walked Troy and his family to their car.”

  “Did you think they would be attacked?”

  “No, but if the ghost with the hat waved at Troy, that means he wasn’t watching Kade,” I replied.

  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Raven. “You think the ghost was torn about whether he should watch Kade or the kid. That probably does mean there’s something special about the kid.”

  “Probably,” I conceded. “He’s on his way home, though, and the ghost is still here.” I pointed toward the corner of trailer row, to the spot where the ghost in question watched something only he could see. I had a feeling Kade was there performing some task or wrapping up with the security personnel, but I wasn’t ready to head in that direction quite yet. “Have you considered that maybe they’re not here to hunt us as much as scare us into staying put?”

  Raven jerked her head in my direction, surprise flitting through her heavy-lidded eyes. “You think they’re trying to keep us here?”

  “I think it’s definitely a possibility. I mean … if we’re here and focused on them, we’re not looking elsewhere.”

  “Like … where?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t have an easy answer. “Like Caroline’s house. Like Falk. Like … the woods. I don’t know. Think about it. The first night we were here you thought you heard a wendigo. We haven’t heard the noise since. That seems odd.”

  Raven pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, her mind clearly working overtime. “You’re right. I almost forgot about the wendigo because we were so focused on the ghosts.”

  “Maybe that’s what someone wants us to focus on.”

  “Maybe.” Raven glared at the ghost as the obviously female spirit watched us, her body language signifying overt disdain. If I didn’t know better, given the way she planted her hands on her hips, I’d think she was mocking us. “I want to run a few more experiments tonight.”

 

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