I sighed, reaching out for comfort in the form of a steaming hot mug of coffee Ebony had shoved in front of me. Sure it was hot outside, but the air conditioning whirred around us. Not as cold as it had been inside the Hocking house, but still cool enough to allow the smoothness of the coffee to glide down my throat.
“You really are a master at coffee making,” I said.
“I worked in a café for several years. I suppose that helps.”
Ah, the haunted café. I suppose she left out that bit for Jonathan’s benefit. I knew the story, about the corner café housing several disgruntled ghosts who claimed ownership to the property. She’d told me a hundred times. How they’d messed with the equipment, rearranged furniture and utensils. In the end, the owner decided to sell the place to a person who was actually related to the ghosts. That hardly ever happened.
After working there, Ebony admitted to herself that dealing with spirits was a talent she couldn’t ignore. That was how I ended up with her as my assistant.
“I can’t picture you in a café, not with your customer-service skills,” Jonathan teased, still eyeing the book in front of him.
She rolled her eyes. “Excuse me, but my customer-service skills are above average. Just ask Sierra, she’ll vouch for me.”
I took another sip of the hot, soothing liquid. “Yes, she’s wonderful.”
“See, I told ya!”
“Jonathan, did you find anything?” He’d been flipping through the thick book for what felt like hours and hadn’t shared any details yet.
“Maybe,” he answered, pushing the book forward so we could all see the page he was on.
Ebony leaned closer.
I looked down at the picture of the amulet printed on the moldy page. After the horrid reaction I’d had, I was sure this thing held nothing but evil intent. That meant Travis wanted to hurt Ebony. Even their meeting sounded fishy to me. I was surprised she didn’t think anything of it. He had to be quite a knockout, or possess a hell of a lot of magic, to be able to use her this way.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to push all the uneasy thoughts away. It certainly didn’t help to know someone was trying to hurt her. She was only a kid and hadn’t done anything so outrageous someone would be after her.
“The Eye of Wakh,” Jonathan said, pointing at the book.
The picture resembled the piece of junk, but the diagram didn’t have the compelling effect the actual piece did.
“What’s it used for?” Ebony asked.
“It’s a demonic seal with the power to absorb supernatural and magical abilities from the wearer,” Jonathan read from the book. “According to this, it doesn’t have to be tailored for one specific person. Whoever wears or touches it will suffer the consequences.”
“And where does all the power go?” I asked.
Jonathan moved his index finger along the page. “It stays trapped inside the amulet until a specific ritual is performed by the person who jinxed it.”
“Let me guess, through blood or carnal ritual?”
He nodded, his brow furrowed.
“That fucking bastard!” Ebony yelled. “How could he do this to me?”
“No one’s exempt from powerful magic,” I said. “But there has to be a reason why he’d want to do this to you. It sounds like he may be pretty powerful. There’s no way you could’ve known.”
“That doesn’t change the fact he did it! I will find out why the hell he’d want to hurt me like this. And when I do, I’m gonna tear his balls off with my bare hands.” Anger made her cheeks flush. “How could I be so stupid? He’s responsible for what’s happening to me, Sierra. The amulet’s crippled me and I can’t see shit anymore.”
I looked at her with what I hoped was a sympathetic smile. She was right. The trouble she was having crossing over and missing out on everything I did in the ghostly field had obviously been tampered with by an outside force—Travis.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jonathan said, looking at her. “Sometimes it’s hard to figure out if the person you fall for has an agenda.”
I looked at him. His choice of words sounded strange to me. Why would he say something like that? A spark of something slammed into my heart. I took a deep breath. Was he talking about me having an agenda? Wait a minute, what the hell was I thinking?
My mind was so muddled at the moment that I was even starting to suspect Jonathan—sweet, dependable Jonathan—who put up with so much of my bullshit.
“I don’t care what his agenda was. He’ll pay one way or another. I’m not some little girl he can mess around with.” Ebony slammed the table with both of her clenched fists and stood. “That fucking asshole.”
“Excuse me?”
We all turned to find a man standing on the other side of the counter. He looked flushed, sweaty, with unruly hair and a reed-thin body.
“Oh, is it four already?” Jonathan asked, standing up. He moved away from the table and headed towards the man.
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s time for our appointment,” he said with a nod. The man had an accent, which sounded Eastern European.
Jonathan checked his watch. “Of course.”
Ebony glared at the stranger, her eyes so focused on him I thought she might know him.
“I won’t be long,” Jonathan said apologetically to the man who nodded.
I pushed my chair back and stood. “We’ll leave you to it.”
Jonathan put a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. This appointment totally slipped my mind.”
“It’s all right. I need to get home and rest for a while anyway,” I said, lightly touching my lips to his.
“I’ll call you later, Sierra,” he whispered in my ear.
I shivered. “Sure. In the meantime, can you babysit that thing? I don’t want it anywhere near Ebony.” Or me.
He nodded, leaned over to give me a quick peck on the cheek before stepping back.
Ebony and I moved past the stranger, who inclined his chin in greeting, his beady eyes bright and glaring directly at me. Something about him made my skin crawl. An odd energy seemed to be leaking from this stranger, unlike anything I’d ever felt before. As if it were slipping through a crack in his damaged soul.
I rushed to get outside. When we were under the relative safety of the sun, I asked Ebony, “Did you know that man?” I wish I could shake his creepy glare from my skin.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but there was something oddly familiar about him. Listen, are you still coming to church with me tonight?”
After everything that had happened, I’d forgotten all about the church. I shook my head. “I think I’m going to miss it tonight.”
Ebony nodded knowingly. “I figured you might, but there’s always next week.”
I could hardly wait.
Chapter Seventeen
“I need to ask you a question, Grandpa.”
“Sure, go ahead.” He was standing against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. Another habit he’d kept after death. His dark eyes filled with concern, causing his face to look grim and gaunt. Even for a ghost, he looked pale. “Are you sure everything’s fine with you now?”
I nodded, pressing my head further into the cushions piled against the backrest. There were a few familial things I needed to deal with, and was hoping Grandpa would be able to provide some answers to questions I’d been avoiding. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Okay, I won’t push you anymore, but I was very worried when you didn’t come home for so long.”
Color rose to my cheeks and guilt wove into a knot inside me. I hadn’t realized I’d managed to spend two nights without coming home, without sparing a single thought for Grandpa. Sure, I didn’t have a choice while unconscious the night before, but the one before that had been due to the passion I’d shared with Jonathan.
“I’m sorry, Grandpa.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay, I can’t expect you to check in with an old, dead man every night. Now, what’s your question?”
An uncomfortable sensation ripped through the pit of my stomach. He wasn’t going to like this question, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him. “Do you know someone by the name of Oren McKee?”
His thin face shimmered around the edges, fading in and out for a few seconds before he solidified again. A cloud shadowed his face as the color dripped from his image until he was almost black-and-white.
It took him a few minutes to answer and regain a bit of control. He rubbed his chin. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. One I never thought would be mentioned again in my presence.”
“Why?”
He sighed. “I’d prefer not to talk about it, Sierra. There are too many jumbled memories attached to that name. I’d rather not revisit them.”
“But—”
“Why don’t we discuss what happened to you? You still haven’t told me what kept you away from home for two nights and managed to make you look so pale and worn. I don’t want to sound moronic, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I had to laugh, couldn’t help it. And when I did, my abdominals ached almost as much as my head. I wasn’t one hundred percent yet, but I was finally starting to feel like myself, just a little worn around the edges. “Can I use your excuse? Too many awful things attached to it. I’m really sorry but I can’t talk about all of this at the moment. It’s too raw, still fresh. Just rest assured that I’m okay now and I won’t ask the Oren question again. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Grandpa didn’t look satisfied with my answer, but knew me well enough to stop pushing. “Why did you ask about him anyway?”
“I met him the other day.”
His eyes bulged. “What do you mean, you met him? There’s no reason for you to meet Oren McKee. Hasn’t that son of a bitch done enough damage to our family already?”
My mouth dropped open. My grandfather didn’t swear unless there was a reason for it. For him to call Oren an SOB, there had to be some really bad blood between them. “We met by chance. Someone left an anonymous note at the office and I happened to cross paths with him. Then we met at the cemetery and he mentioned knowing Grandma.”
“Oh, how convenient of him. Trust me when I say there’s no way you met him by accident. I suspected the bastard may be watching you from afar since the day you were born. That’s what he did with your mother, kept watching until she thought someone was stalking her. But he didn’t find what he was looking for with her, he just waited until the birth of her daughter.”
“Okay, now I’m officially confused,” I said, jolting up too quickly. It was probably best to leave out the bit about Grandma asking Oren to keep an eye on me while on her deathbed. That would only cause unnecessary pain, just like what was now shooting through my skull, threatening to tear it apart. I winced away the feeling, not wanting to lose the thread of this conversation. “Tell me what you’re keeping from me. I can’t believe we’ve been so close for so long and you managed to keep secrets, Grandpa. I thought we didn’t have any secrets.”
He moved swiftly and sat on the couch, lowering his head onto his hands. Until the strain was too much and his face fell right through his translucent fingers—a nervous reaction very common in spirits. They can solidify, but uncertainty will force them into the transparent beings they truly are. “We are close, Sierra. There are just some things granddaughters should never know about their grandparents. Please let this go. I assure you, it’d be best for everyone.”
“I think it’s too late for that.” I sighed, placing a hand over his, feeling it solidify at my touch. “There are too many strange things happening in my life at the moment, most of them I have no control over. So please, don’t let this be another. I don’t trust Oren. There’s something very creepy about him but I’d like to have some idea about what he meant to Grandma. I have a feeling they were friendly, but would like to hear it from you. I don’t know how much of what he told me is true. He already withheld information from me one other time.”
He covered my hand with both of his. A cold flutter crossed over my palm, releasing a trail of goose bumps up my arm. “I know you’ve got a right to know. I just don’t want your opinion of your grandmother to change. You looked up to her, and even after so many years have passed since her death, you still hold her memory in the highest regard. I don’t want to be the one responsible for shattering that.”
“Grandpa, I don’t have any illusions of her being totally perfect. She was human after all, with added power, but still prone to human nature.”
He nodded knowingly. “You don’t know how true that is.”
“Do you know why she eventually left me?”
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed, searching mine.
“As a kid I could see her all the time. She’s the reason I was able to harness my power. Even into my early teens I could see and feel her nearby, but one day she just vanished. Except for dreams, I haven’t had real contact with her for years,” I said. The sadness of how much I missed her still gripped me.
“Neither have I. It’s been over a decade since I felt her presence. I have a terrible feeling something bad happened to her, but let’s not get sidetracked. I’ll tell you about Oren only because I need you to know what he is.” His eyes shone with unshed tears that would never fall. “You need to know what you’re up against.”
I took in a deep breath and resisted the urge to whistle. “That was quite a story.”
“Unfortunately, it isn’t a story.” Grandpa’s thin frame was pressed against the backrest of the couch, as if every ounce of energy at his disposal had been drained out of his system. I suppose, in a way, it had. He’d lost the vibrancy of color, had completely dimmed to a matte black-and-white. “It’s all true.”
“And you never wanted to know for certain?”
He shook his head.
“I could get a DNA test to confirm it, couldn’t I?”
Grandpa remained firm, with another shake of his head. “No, it’s best we never know for sure. If Oren had scientific evidence to back up his claims…we’d never hear the end of it.”
“But, Grandpa—”
“Sierra, it’s better this way,” he snapped.
My grandfather had just confessed the saga that was my grandmother Pepita, and Oren. Two people burdened—or blessed—with different supernatural talents, who’d fallen in love long before my grandfather entered the picture. They’d travelled all around the world together during a time when even ghosts were a secret, many times working alongside each other in the battlefield, then lying beside one another in bed.
My skin crawled at the thought.
One never imagines their parents were ever young and carefree, so grandparents are even harder to picture. Yet, I knew my grandmother’s goodness, her inner and outer beauty. So it wasn’t too hard to imagine men being interested in her once upon a time. She used to have the clearest, softest, olive skin I’d ever seen. Even as an old woman the wrinkles were minimal. Her face had been so full of radiance and beauty, her eyes so full of wisdom.
Still, the most disturbing thing in this whole story was that even after she gave up the trade of hunting down spirits and settled down with Grandpa to raise a family of three, Oren still searched for her. After all those years apart he tracked her down, reviving all the tangled, passionate old feelings they’d shared.
I wanted Grandpa to understand that knowing who my biological grandfather really was would answer a whole bunch of questions I had about myself but wouldn’t change how much I loved him. The man sharing a couch with me—my grandfather, no matter what—had practically raised me. When my parents got divorced and left this house to go their separate ways, they gladly handed over legal guardianship to Grandpa. I considered him my real parent and didn’t leave his side until I was scouted by the Spook Catcher Council. Later, when he passed away, he left me this house because he knew how much I loved it. But I had one condition—that he stayed on as my ghostly companion.
How did I make him understand all of this without hurting his feeling?
I’d always been so different and unsure of how to tap into the well of power flowing through me. Not to mention why I’d suddenly acquired the ability to astral project into a black patch I seemed to control but had no idea how to get there. I’d slipped into it with the Prevette demon, Roger Hocking, and even while making love to Jonathan. What did those three situations have in common? Heightened emotions? Maybe, but both the demon and Roger had seemed shocked to find themselves trapped inside it. Jonathan hadn’t even noticed.
If what Grandpa suspected was really true, then it meant Oren could be my biological grandfather. And that alone would answer a lot.
The spook catcher gene is a funny one, but I was pretty sure it didn’t entail astral projection, or the ability to drag and destroy demons inside a black place.
Grandma once told me the gene skips a generation and is always handed down to the oldest female. It’s never passed on to a male and never to a direct child. The female grandchild receives the gift.
Some say it increases in power as the family line moves along, that it can even be totally lost if a female grandchild isn’t born. So if I can’t give birth to a little girl one day, who in turn has a female child of her own, I could wind up being the last of the catcher line for this family. Not a comforting thought when becoming a mother was something that didn’t appeal to me at the moment.
Besides, what if I ended up with a child trapped in denial? My mother had an inkling of what I was going through as a child but she chose to ignore it, pretended I had a mental problem rather than face up to what I’d inherited from her.
I think she was secretly ashamed of both Grandma and me. But I don’t care about that anymore. I made peace with all those demons a long time ago. My mother chose to die without her only daughter in her life.
But how would I handle having a powerless daughter who’d never understand what I was? Or even resent me for not having received the talent from me?
A Patch of Darkness Page 19
