The Spiritist

by Sabine A. Reed

  A gasp escaped her lips. She rushed to his side and reached for the big, black bruise that covered his arm and shoulder. How the hell hadn’t see noticed it before. “Oh, my God! Does that hurt?”

  “Only when I sleep on it.” He turned to face her, his tone light. “It will be fine.”

  “I can’t believe…” She didn’t touch the bruise for fear it would hurt him. Unbidden, tears sprang into her eyes. “I am so sorry for dragging you into this mess. It’s all my fault.”

  His arms were around her in a second. He hugged her close. She rested her head on his chest. “Your fault? Did you anticipate a bat-crazy ghost would throw me half-way across the room? If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I brought you to New York. Don’t cry, please.”

  “I’m not crying. Of course, I’m not.” She stepped away, out of his arms. Her gaze couldn’t move past the nasty bruise that would take days to heal. “It’s…he could have killed you.”

  They hadn’t discussed anything last night. Cole had to endure two stitches on his temple while Aerilyn had been too shaken by the unprecedented event to make much sense of it. Both of them decided to let things be until the next morning. Even now, Aerilyn couldn’t understand much of what had happened. She’d spent a lifetime dealing with spirits, but had never come across one who was as angry and resentful as Simon had been. What could have caused him to harbor so much rage?

  “He could have killed you, too,” he said. “I couldn’t get into the apartment and then I heard you scream. It gave me a heart attack. Do you know what it was like to be locked on the outside not knowing what was happening to you?” Aerilyn chewed on her bottom lip. He used a finger to unhook her lip. “Don’t do that. Now, let me go get our breakfast before the waiter thinks we’ve died in here.”

  He strode out of the room, shirtless. Aerilyn took her time dressing again. As she ran a brush through her hair, she surveyed her reflection in the mirror. There was a certain glow to her skin, a sheen of excitement in her eyes. It had been a while since she’d allowed a man to make love to her – and damn it, it had been good. Better than good. It was earth-shattering. And the way he carried her into the room and took his time, slow and steady – well, who knew there was a romantic inside Cole Hudson.

  It hadn’t been just sex. This was making love – and now, after this, there was no going back for the two of them.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  She went to join him in the living room. He sat shirtless, checking emails on his tablet. She glanced away from the bruise that covered half his upper body. It pained her to see it.

  “Damon is going to the police today to hand over the tablet and my notes.” He swiped the tablet and put it down. Taking the lid off the dish, he offered her a portion of his Eggs Benedict. She looked warily at her toast and slices of fruit. Suddenly, she was ravenous.

  He chuckled. “Nothing like good sex to give you an appetite. Don’t worry, I’ll share with you.”

  “You are a keeper.” She sat opposite him as he piled her plate high with eggs, sausages, and bacon. Before she could begin, her cell phone rang. It was her grandmother.

  “Hello, darling. How are you?”

  “Nan, it’s so good to hear your voice. Where are you now?”

  “We are in Meftah. It’s a city near Algiers, but tomorrow we are boarding a bus for Morocco.” Nan had begun her journey alone but was picking up a group of her old and new friends as she roamed from country to country. It was so unlike Nan to be so free and without responsibilities. As a young child she had seen her grandmother always doing some work or the other, and it was good that she was enjoying this time in her life.

  “Having fun?”

  “Oh, yes, darling. Although I do miss you.”

  “I miss you too, Nan.”

  “How are things at the shop?”

  “Good. Actually, I am in New York,” she admitted. Her grandmother was going to find out anyway. It would be less painful to tell her before she found out from another source.

  Surprise laced her tone. “New York? Business or Pleasure?”

  “Work, Nan. A new client.”

  “Ah!” Silence reigned on the other side. “What is it?” her grandmother asked.

  “A mother with a son who died when he was barely twenty.”

  “You know that I worry when you put yourself out on a limb. This can be dangerous, and it’s doubly so when you are out of your comfort zone.” Her grandmother had never been entirely comfortable with Aerilyn’s gift. She never encouraged her to take on new clients, especially after the incident with Raissa in which she had been unable to prove her claim.

  Aerilyn knew that her Nan was only looking out for her, but if she really knew how dangerous this particular endeavor had turned out to be, she would probably drop everything and come to join her in New York. Much as she wanted to discuss this with her grandmother and get her opinion on Simon’s manifestation, Aerilyn didn’t have the heart to tell her everything. It had taken her Nan eighteen years to leave Alby. Aerilyn didn’t want to spoil these precious moments.

  There would be plenty of time later to discuss this case.

  “I’m fine, Nan. There is nothing to worry about.” She kept her tone light and airy. “I’ll be going back tomorrow. And I am going to see Viaan today.”

  “Viaan? Give him my regard. And you take care, Aerilyn.”

  “I will, Nan. Send me pictures.” Her formidable grandmother was having trouble learning to use the smart phone Aerilyn had gifted her before her departure. The occasional pictures she sent Aerilyn more than made up for the frustration she claimed the phone gave her.

  “Oh, yes. I will do so. My friend…he can use it well.” She giggled. “I will tell him to send some new pictures we took yesterday. Goodbye darling. I will call you again soon.”

  Aerilyn put the phone down, lost in thought. Her usually reticent grandmother had been a little more flustered than usual. If she didn’t know any better…

  Could it be? Was it possible? Of course, it wasn’t within the realm of impossibility…

  “Earth calling Aerilyn.”

  She blinked. “What? Sorry.” She dug into her food. It was delicious.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Aerilyn took a bite of her toast. “No. I…I think my grandmother might be having an affair.”

  Cole cut into his bacon. “And that might be bad because?”

  She shook her head, clearing her mind. “It’s not bad. It’s good. She has been too involved in the farm, and my life and my mother’s…it’s high time she lived for herself.”

  “The farm?”

  “We have a farm up in Alby. It’s actually my grandmother’s but I help her run it.”

  “What do you keep? Sheep? Cows?”

  “We grow herbs, and we have a commercial set up there for preparing the herbs and potions I sell in my shop.”

  “Herbs?” The fork stopped in mid-air. “For your shop?”

  She was a little taken aback by his reaction. “We grow and harvest our own herbs. How a plant is grown, in which soil, the correct monitoring, and even harvesting is extremely important for the actual consistency and potency of the herb.”

  “You mean, if I pick a herb at night it would not be as potent as the same herb I might pick during the day?”

  “Of course. Most herbalists don’t get it. It’s not in the books.” She shrugged. “But earth witches know this. My grandmother is an earth witch. Although I don’t have the gift, she has taught me the basics. Every herb, every leaf, and every plant is harvested at the time of its greatest potency. That helps it to be stronger than the ordinary herbs found in marketplaces. We also sell our herbs to other manufacturers of herbal and alternative medicines.”

  “So you don’t add…any magic to the herbs and potions you sell in your shop?”

  “Only to those that are specially ordered by clients who know about me and my work. The generic stuff is free of any hocus-pocus.”

  “
That explains it.” He resumed eating. His hair, still wet from the shower, glinted in the light. He’d taken the bandage off the stitches on his temple, and the puckered, red scar was an ugly reminder of their tryst with the walking dead yesterday.

  Her eyes narrowed and she stopped eating. “Explains what?”

  “Ah…” He leaned back, wincing. “I sent the herbs and stuff I purchased from your shop for testing. My pharmacologist said that it was more potent than anything she had ever seen before. She analyzed all the ingredients but couldn’t detect anything strange or new. When I got the report yesterday, I thought you must have added some magical element to it…but this…what you just said explains how your preparations are different from anything available in the market.”

  Aerilyn didn’t know if she was annoyed or impressed with his thoroughness. She had definitely expected him to run a security check on her, but he was more methodical than she gave him credit for. “I see.”

  He shifted. “You’re angry?”

  “No. Not really. After all, I also did some checking on you when you first showed up in my shop to threaten me with dire consequences.”

  “You checked up…?” He laughed. “What did you find?”

  “That you are ambitious, driven, well-connected, and charming. I wasn’t so sure about the last bit…but I fully intended to use your connections to get more information on Robin and Thomas. Alone, I would not have gotten anywhere, but with you we have a chance to find out more than what my magic alone could tell me.”

  “So you were planning to use me and my expertise?”

  “Fully,” she admitted without shame.

  He shrugged and picked up his cup of coffee. “Fair enough, I guess. So tell me what happened with Simon? Did you summon him?”

  “Of course not. Although if I had thought of it, I might have tried it…but he was right there. Even before I thought of summoning him, he stood there. I think he hasn’t crossed over.”

  His eyebrow rose. “A spirit can choose not to cross over?”

  “It happens on occasion. Anger, resentment, even deep love or concern are all strong emotions that can keep a dead person tied to the physical world.”

  “How long will he remain in that apartment? Can he move out into the world?”

  Keeping in mind his simmering anger, it wasn’t impossible to predict that if Simon moved out into the general population, he could potentially create a lot of trouble. Poltergeists were a rarity, but they were not unheard of. “I’m not sure. Spirits that remain in this world can be anchored to a particular place or a person. It’s difficult to predict.”

  “Why was he angry with us? We didn’t do anything.”

  “He is angry at everyone and everything.” She filled him in on the conversation she had with Simon. “He wants revenge. That’s a powerful emotion. What’s worse is that his manifestation and continuous presence in the world is giving him energy and access to the physical world in a way that is not permitted for the spirits. Generally, spirits don’t stay long in this world. They can’t physically move objects, or touch people, or hurt anyone here unless I use them to do so. It’s very rare for a spirit to be able to do so.”

  He scratched his cheek. “You can use a spirit to hurt someone?”

  “If I summon a spirit, I can harness his energy to do stuff…I can move a table, or use him to hit you, or something. But of course, I would never do so.” Her eyes rounded. “It wasn’t me…”

  “Of course.” He covered her hand with his. “I didn’t think you would use a ghost to hurt me.”

  His faith touched her. She smiled. “Really?”

  “If you wanted to punch me, you could just do it yourself, couldn’t you?” He raised his hand to his lips. The soft kiss sent a tingle up her spine.

  Man, she was doomed!

  “Sure, I suppose.” She’d never hit someone. Not really. “I did punch Jody Fraser in the stomach in third grade. She was telling everyone that I kissed Marty on his cheek during the school picnic.”

  “And did you? Kiss him?” He shoveled a forkful of bacon his mouth with his free hand.

  The warmth of his hand was comforting. “Of course, I did. He was my first love. But it was a private moment, you know? She had no right to blurt it out in the class. I was grounded for a month. Had to go over to her house and apologize. My grandmother was mortified. My mother was displeased. Of course, if I had used magic to hurt her…well, I think they both would have grounded me for a year.”

  “So magic was off-limits?”

  “For personal gain, yes. We were always taught that we couldn’t use magic to hurt someone, or to get us something that we were not allowed, etc. Of course no one could tell what my gift was until…”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Until?”

  She freed her hand and used it to push back her hair. She’d told him too much. Way too much. But now that it was out, she may as well tell him the whole thing. “I was an oddity in my family. No one could tell my specific source of power. Since all mages can manipulate all elements to a limited degree, they knew I had the gift…but they couldn’t tell what my specialty was.” She sighed. It was hard to even recollect the memory. The loss was still fresh in her mind. “My brother, Shane. He was a year older than me. I was eight when he died. A bike accident. A drunk driver.” She dared not look in his eyes. If there was any sympathy or pity, it would kill her. That wound was forever fresh. “It was after his death that my gift truly manifested itself. I could see him, talk to him…”

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet and soft. “It must have been tough.”

  “Yeah, it was.” She cleared her throat. His death had devastated the entire family. She couldn’t imagine what it had been like for her mother and grandmother, but they had done a good job of remaining strong for her. She’d been extremely close to Shane and had nearly suffered a breakdown. “It was rough for all of us.” She straightened her shoulders. “Anyway, the childhood morals have stuck. I would never use magic to get me something I desire. It’s a slippery slope. Once you get on it, there is no turning back.”

  “Back to Simon,” he said with a matter-of-fact voice. “What can we do about him?”

  She considered her options. “Not much for now. I may need to talk to him again later if we need more information.”

  “You’re not going back there again. Never. Ever.” A muscle flexed in his cheek. “In fact, you’re not going to do anything related to this case anymore. I have already turned over everything to the local police. Joan is going to send in an application requesting that they re-open her son’s file.”

  “We don’t have any evidence that he was murdered.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “Yeah, I know. I talked to Damon last night. I might have to…” he paused as if not sure what to say.

  “You’ll have to tell the police about me. I know that. It’s ok.”

  He winced. “They may not understand.”

  Aerilyn knew that he didn’t want her to undergo another bad experience with the police. It touched her that he was loath to make her go through such an embarrassment again. “The police won’t believe it. It’s happened before, and it can happen again. But tell them anyway. If they know how we gathered the information, then maybe they can work backwards and find the evidence. We’ve no choice. The police need to know.”

  His lips lifted in a rueful smile. “I’ll try to keep them away from you. Joan is petitioning that the drugs in Thomas’s system be re-analyzed. Can someone who was so drugged drag himself up on that chair and commit suicide? The police never considered that angle before. Let them answer her queries and when they are not able to, they might extend the investigation and re-open it as a murder. I’ll see to it that they have plenty of reason to suspect that the original verdict of suicide was incorrect.”

  “I’m sure you will do your best. That’s all anyone can do.”

  There was little else she could do. Later, as more information surfaced fro
m the ground investigations, she might have to talk to Simon or Thomas to clarify things, but for now, her work here was done.

  “What is your plan for today?” he asked as he poured the black tea that she had ordered. He passed her the delicate china cup.

  “Thank you.” She took a sip. It was hot and strong, just the way she liked it. “I’m going to see a wizard. He supplies some magical potions to us, for our special medicines. His name is Viaan. He owns a shop in East Harlem.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  She frowned, surprised by his offer. “Don’t you have work? I thought you had an office here?”

  “I cleared my schedule for today. Thought we might do something together, you know, later when you’re free.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was planning to take you sightseeing. But of course, if you would rather take advantage of me in bed, I am up for that.”

  She smothered a smile. “I am sure you are.” She finished her tea. “If you are ready, I will grab my purse.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they were out in the hotel’s grand lobby. One side was dominated by a large, marble counter. It was manned by six members of hotel staff. The wall behind them was a sheet of plain glass that reflected the images from the entire lobby. The central fountain was spewing clear sheets of water.

  Cole was waylaid by the hotel manager. “Excuse me, sir. I was just coming up to see you.” The tall, thin man was dressed in an impeccable navy blue suit. His expression was apologetic. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you checked in yesterday.”

  “It’s alright, Steven. It’s good to see you.” Cole put his arm around Aerilyn’s waist and brought her closer. “This is my friend, Aerilyn.”

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am. I hope you had a satisfactory stay?”

  “It was great, thank you.” She tried to wriggle free but Cole held her close.

  “We’re in a hurry, Steven.”