A Patch of Darkness

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A Patch of Darkness Page 13

by Yolanda Sfetsos


  “Nope, right place, right time.” I pointed at my name printed on the glass.

  She giggled. “Of course, you must think I’m such a dope.”

  “Nah, come in.”

  “Sure.” Lavie wandered inside and Ebony shot her a strange look, gawking at our guest.

  “Lavie, this is my assistant, Ebony Aikan. Ebony, this is Lavie Grye.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Lavie said with a small wave.

  “Yeah, I’m actually Sierra’s assistant slash apprentice.”

  “Oh, that sounds like a nice title.”

  “And who exactly are you, Lavie?”

  “Don’t mind the savage. She can be young and stupid sometimes,” I cut in, giving her a squinty-eyed look. Ebony turned back to rummaging inside the cabinet. “Take a seat, please.”

  I’d already set up a chair in the same spot Carleen Hocking sat the day before.

  “Thanks. What did you need to speak to me about?” Lavie settled down on the chair, with the backpack on her lap.

  I took a deep breath.

  “Is it about the meeting—?”

  “No.” I hoped Ebony missed the meeting bit but didn’t bother checking. “It’s actually about demonic seeds.”

  “Demonic seeds?” Ebony echoed.

  “Yes. Lavie’s a demon…expert.”

  “Oh.” Ebony didn’t sound convinced but I still refused to meet her eyes.

  “Feel free to fire away any demonic question. Of course I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to answer everything about them, but I can try. I’ve got a multitude of texts I can refer to if in doubt.” Lavie flashed me a shy smile. “So, what did you want to know about demonic seeds? Have you found one?”

  “Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t know one if I stepped on it, but we’ve got a new client I think might’ve been infected with one.”

  Her expression softened. “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m no expert, but she developed an awful skin condition, and now there’s something literally living and crawling under her skin,” I answered.

  Ebony coughed. “You should’ve seen this poor woman. The way that thing—whatever it was—moved around under her skin was frightening.”

  The demon hunter was quiet for several moments. She looked down at her hands, her eyes shifting from me to Ebony before she decided to speak. “You may be right. It certainly sounds like some sort of demon infestation. Did she mention how this happened?”

  “She claims it happened shortly after having a miscarriage, but I don’t think there was a baby in the first place. I think her husband impregnated her with the demonic seed. The ‘miscarriage’ could’ve been her body’s reaction to the invasion.” I hoped she’d know a thing or two about what Carleen Hocking was going through, because I sure as hell didn’t.

  Lavie’s eyes widened. “Her husband was a demon?”

  “No, but it sounds like he was mixed up with some strange group that might’ve worshipped demons.” I was hoping for some sort of reaction from Ebony, but all she did was blink a few times, continue to stare at Lavie and then returned to her filing. After Papan’s accusation, I was hoping to bait her, but it looked like the only way I was going to get any real reaction was by confronting her about it. Even if what Papan said was true, and Ebony was somehow involved with the cult, maybe it could help us sort out Carleen Hocking’s situation. I felt sorry for the widowed woman, living every day with an unknown entity writhing inside her body. It had to be a nightmare.

  I’d already decided to charge her only for the service of finding her husband’s spirit. The demon thing would cost her nothing.

  “Gee, I thought you were only accustomed to the ghostly supernatural, Sierra,” Lavie finally said with a furrowed brow.

  “It helps to know a little about other entities, though most of my demonic experience is pure assumption and things I’ve read in books or online.” It was the truth—I didn’t know as much as she probably assumed I did.

  “Well, I’d say your assumptions are great. I’d like to help. Is it possible for me to meet this woman?”

  I nodded. “Actually, that would be great. We’ve got an appointment with her tonight. We’re going to check out a whole bunch of her husband’s texts and relics. While I try to make contact with her husband’s ghost, maybe you could give me your expert opinion on all the demonic stuff?”

  “Sounds great!” she said with an excited lilt to her tone.

  “Okay. We’ll meet you at the Hocking house at eight.” This could work out better than I’d initially thought. “Ebony, give Lavie the address please.”

  Ebony nodded but didn’t say a word, just grabbed the Hocking folder and scrawled the address on a piece of paper.

  “Thank you, Lavie,” I said, suddenly proud of myself for involving Lavie in this bizarre situation. I liked her. Maybe it was because she seemed so sincere and helpful. I’d cornered her with questions twice since meeting and she’d offered a helping hand both times without any fuss.

  I was suddenly reminded of how I’d reacted when Oren called me out of the blue. I’d been snappy and suspicious. Something Lavie hadn’t. Was I being difficult with Oren and spooked too easily? He’d contacted me because of my expertise, wanting an opinion, but I’d been less than cooperative.

  I sighed. If I was honest, the thought of my grandmother’s involvement with that man made me uncomfortable, but knowing he was a witch had thrown me out for a loop.

  Chapter Eleven

  My breath caught in my throat. “Can you feel it?” My whisper was raspy and chilled the inside of my mouth.

  Ebony wrapped her arms around herself and looked around. “Yeah, it’s damn cold in here.”

  “Which means?” My breath misted in front of me. The cool air raced up my nasal passage and continued down to my lungs. I shivered.

  “That there’s definitely a spook here.”

  I turned to look at her. “See? You have learned something.”

  She didn’t look amused. “Are you trying to be a smartass?”

  “Relax and clear your head of everything irrelevant. Otherwise you’ll never get into the swing of things. That’s what I want you to do today, feel with your talent instead of your mind. Take notice of everything around you.” I suspected this would be her biggest hurdle. Ebony always seemed to be overly concerned with irrelevant details. Too much clutter in the brain could affect your ability to trust your senses.

  “I always take notice, Sierra.”

  “Yeah, well, make sure that’s true today, okay? Because I’m going to re-sort through all our outstanding files and will hand over a bunch of straightforward cases for you to handle by yourself.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I’m dead serious—pardon the pun—but let’s get back to it, okay?”

  “Sure.” She beamed, pointing the small flashlight up ahead. Her mood had already changed. Maybe it was just confidence she lacked.

  “There’s no need for that, Ebony.” I pushed her hand down and the small circle of light fell away from the wall. “Use your senses. Try to really see what’s in front of you, using more than just your eyes.”

  Ebony clicked off the flashlight.

  I closed my eyes, trying to release every thought from my mind. It was fine for me to preach about having a clear head, but if I didn’t follow those instructions, I’d be as crippled as she seemed to be.

  We were standing in the middle of a basement. The weak light bulb above hardly illuminated the perimeter, so it was essential to use our catcher senses, and having my eyes closed actually helped me see better. There were so many things the naked eye missed in situations like these.

  I took another deep breath of the icy air and fought the sudden urge to sneeze.

  A ghost was hiding nearby. I could feel it.

  Harry Rempel called our office two weeks ago, regarding a disturbance downstairs. His file stated there was something in his basement, a presence making it unbearable for any family membe
r to step inside this room. The cold was so intense it seeped through the door and into the rest of the house—instant air conditioning in the middle of summer. But ghostly cold comes attached with other side effects that can eventually drive the sanest person nuts.

  Sometimes the spook sucks energy out of the people living inside the house, causing individual temperatures to drop. This is called psychic cold. But in this case, the ghost was projecting a bonanza, causing the temperature to drop within the house so everyone was affected.

  The cold raced up my arms and under my skirt until it engulfed me so ferociously it was a struggle to breathe.

  My eyes snapped open. I choked to clear my nose and throat, coughing but unable to get the air in and out as naturally as I should. I doubled over. Ebony’s grip on my waist was the only thing keeping me upright.

  “Sierra, what’s wrong?”

  I tried to speak but couldn’t. I needed to tell her this was normal—she should’ve known. Would know it if she’d taken part in proper training like I had. Then again, that training came at a personal cost. I guess keeping her out of face-to-face situations for so long had been my mistake. Now she didn’t know what to expect.

  Ebony was just a kid with the ability to see ghosts at certain places and times. At twenty-one, she should be able to control this situation. I needed to help enhance her talent. It was essential for her to draw on the spirit’s power in order to see it.

  My coughing slowed and I was able to lift my head to finally catch a glimpse of the intruder.

  “Sierra, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I managed a hoarse whisper, straightening to untangle myself from her arms. My lungs filled with a new influx of cold air. This was the worst thing about falling into the spirit’s zone. The sudden change in temperature can push the body into hypothermia, capable of killing the system or turning into a bad case of pneumonia if you can’t handle the sudden change.

  Lucky for me, this is the worst it ever gets.

  I looked over my shoulder to check on Ebony. She seemed to be fading, so transparent I could see the stairs behind her, through her body. She hadn’t followed me into the zone. It’s not like being transferred to another patch, but the living soul, without the talent, subsides while the ghost glows brightly. Technically, Ebony shouldn’t be fading at all. She should have crossed over with me, but I couldn’t dwell on that right now. I had a job to do.

  Silence pierced my ears.

  I took a step forward, leaving her behind.

  The spook stood a few feet in front of me. He was male and looked like a teenager, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. His hair was blond, cut very short, and his face was peppered with faint bruises.

  In spite of what most horror movies would have you believe, the majority of ghosts wind up looking reasonably orderly. They usually resemble whatever it was they looked like before death, without the gore. Of course, there are exceptions. Most murder victims are so distraught at the time of death they aren’t able to portray a clean projected image.

  I wondered if that was the case for this guy.

  “Don’t come any closer!” he said from his hiding spot.

  I raised my hands on either side of me to show I wasn’t hostile, walking forward until he stood so close I could touch him if I extended a hand. He pressed the length of his thin body against the brick wall behind him, trying to hide behind a row of metal shelves.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” I said.

  “Why can you see me? I haven’t chosen to show myself to you.” His dark eyes widened with fear.

  “I’m a spook catcher. I don’t need an invitation to see you.”

  “You’re a what?”

  Maybe he was older than I thought. Only the really old ghosts didn’t know what catchers were. “What’re you doing here?”

  He tried to ignore me, peeking behind the shelves as if he were looking to escape.

  I was surprised he hadn’t chosen to simply vanish. If ghosts get spooked enough, they can turn and walk through walls. This guy was terrified. I could see it in his eyes.

  “Why are you here?” I repeated.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He met my eyes. His pale skin glowed bright as he stared at me. “I don’t know. This isn’t my resting place. I don’t recognize this house. I’m trapped.”

  Well, that answered why he was hiding like a spooked rabbit facing a fox. No pun intended.

  The Rempels mentioned they’d been living in this house for over a decade and hadn’t encountered any ghostly activity until a month ago. They claimed no one had died at any time in the history of this house, and had a priest bless it once a year. The family was positive there hadn’t been any accidents nearby either, where the spirit could have fled to seek shelter in their home.

  One day he just appeared out of nowhere. Almost like the demon inside the Prevette kitchen.

  “Where are you from?” I asked the spook.

  “I’m…I’m…”

  “Yes?” I encouraged. Sometimes their thoughts don’t flow well.

  “I’m from somewhere in Melbourne but can’t remember where. It happened a long time ago. My mind’s slipping away from me.”

  I’d never seen a spirit this frightened. Well, except when they’re children, or trauma ghosts. He didn’t look like either. “You’re in a suburb in Sydney.”

  He lifted his eyes to peer into mine. “Why am I here? I was living with a family who had no problem sharing their home with me. Why am I in this strange house?”

  This was getting weirder than usual. “Okay, listen, something’s happened to you and it’s somehow displaced you into another area. What’s the last thing you remember before appearing here?”

  The teenage ghost stood pressed against the wall, fear darkening his eyes. “No, please, I don’t want to remember!”

  “Just relax,” I said. “What’re you talking about?”

  “That thing, it pushed me out when I didn’t want to go,” he cried.

  “What thing?” I had to keep him talking. With an unstable mind, he could lose the thread in seconds. “Who did this to you?”

  He turned his attention to the ceiling. “No. It’s too late…”

  I followed his gaze, trying to find what he was staring at. At first there seemed to be nothing but darkness, but it was shifting from the ceiling to wall. Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

  “It found me!”

  “Why are you here?” I repeated.

  A soft breeze swept up out of nowhere, starting around my ankles and lifting my skirt as the intensity grew.

  “It’s pushing ghosts out of their homes.” The spook tried to squeeze his thin frame behind one of the shelves.

  “Who is?” I raised my voice above the mounting commotion. The uneven darkness was fluctuating, creeping down from the ceiling, headed straight towards him.

  “Please, if you find ghosts, try to keep them where they choose to be! Don’t let it eat them up and spit them out until there’s nothing left,” he yelled, looking at me with horror-filled eyes. “Please, whoever you are, help us before there’s no one left and they can all cross over.”

  “Wait.” The rest of my words caught inside my mouth. The breeze swirled a tornado of blackness, which separated itself from the wall. I took an awkward step back, watching the cloud of darkness swallow the teenage ghost completely. His wails of agony were abruptly cut off.

  What the hell was that? I couldn’t do anything but stare into the shadowy swirl as the spook’s essence disappeared. Two bright, red eyes were buried inside all that black. The eyes moved upward, as if the swirls were taking shape. My heart beat hard against my chest, and my hands were numb at my sides as those eyes kept me pinned to the spot. I was sure it was coming for me.

  The shape now looked almost humanoid—thin, tall, with crimson eyes above a huge gaping mouth. Was this some sort of demon?

  I needed to get the hell out of there but couldn�
�t move. The unknown entity was seconds away from devouring me just as it had the boy’s spirit.

  When Ebony’s voice broke through, sounding crystal clear in my ears, I released a breath.

  “Aren’t you going to need this?” She held out the collection canister, her face and body no longer transparent.

  I was back in the basement.

  Her other hand was wrapped tightly around my arm as I turned to face her. She’d pulled me out of the nightmare. I threw my arms around her, hugging her tight and using her as an anchor to settle back into this patch. “You saved me,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

  “What?”

  “Did you see any of what just happened?” I stepped out of the hug, watching her and so grateful she’d tagged along. Who knew what would’ve happened if I’d been alone. The malice within that storming darkness still made my skin itch.

  Ebony shook her head, confused. “You were just standing there like a statue. I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”

  I struggled to get my breathing back to normal. “So you didn’t follow me.”

  “I didn’t even get a chance to do anything, you just—”

  “Never mind, we’ve got a really big problem.”

  “What’re you talking about? The cold’s gone. I can’t even feel the presence anymore. The spook’s gone, right? Except, where did you put it? I’ve still got the canister.” She looked over my shoulder.

  I shook my head, still trying to come to terms with what I’d witnessed. “That’s just it. I didn’t send him anywhere but he’s definitely gone.”

  I took a deep breath of the warm afternoon air. The sun was high in the sky so I lifted my face towards it, feeling the heat on my cheeks. My eyes closed to the brilliant light.

  Sometimes nothing beats the natural feel of the sun. Day brings with it so much promise. It’s a time when monsters are supposed to disappear into the shadows of night. Nothing awful or horrid can touch us while the sun warms the sky.

  At least, that’s the theory.

  I can vouch for the opposite. A hell of a lot of my job might be performed at night, but daylight wasn’t immune to horrifying situations. Like the incident we were walking away from now.

 

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