What the hell, now?
Intuitively, I realized this wasn’t my killer returned from the orgonite pyramid. This was something altogether different from anything I’d met so far, and when I saw the hazy black stallion nosing the ground about twenty feet away from the circle, I knew who it was.
The witch of the forest.
And it wasn’t no Wiccan, either.
Frozen in place and with eyes nearly bulging out of her skull, 10 gripped Sierra’s and J.J.’s hands.
“My hair! What’s happening with it?”
“We can’t see what it is,” Sierra whispered. “But don’t move!”
“Fuuuuuck!” J.J. said. “Something’s sure here.”
“You think?” 10 said, her voice wobbling as the witch kept toying with her braids.
Then the cloaked entity laughed, but it wasn’t the cackle I expected. It was more like someone had run their fingers over an electric harp.
“Lovely,” the new spirit said, twirling one blond braid around a long, bent finger. She seemed to sense that more company had joined her, and she lifted her face to us. But there was no face at all under her hood—only a pair of eyes so green that they were like laser rays.
“Not a regular ghost,” I whispered to Amanda Lee.
She kept her tongue. So did all the ghosts around us, but the gypsies had unexpectedly come out of hiding, comfortable in the witch’s presence. Johnny Eagle had taken off. I thought I’d heard somewhere that some Native Americans weren’t crazy about witches. Marg was near the tree where she’d been before, studying the witch.
The new spirit kept messing with 10’s braids while she spoke in a perfectly normal voice—if normal had a touch of haunted-house music to it.
“Well, look at this,” she said. “More trespassers in my woods. I have the sense that all of you have been here before, though. And you . . .” Her eyes burned at me. “You were here with some kids a few nights ago, making noise with a musical box.”
If I were human, I would’ve totally been peeing my pants. “It was actually more than a few nights ago.” I didn’t add that what my friends had brought was called a boom box. You didn’t go smart-ass on a witch.
She stared harder at me. “It was more than a few nights, you say?”
“Yes. I was killed in this forest over thirty years ago.”
“Hmm.” She dropped 10’s braids, but 10 didn’t move a muscle. Neither did the other hunters. “Time flies when you nap a lot, doesn’t it?”
Oh shit, she was floating toward us. The mist inside me scrambled, like it was scared, too.
Behind her, the hunters held hands and tried to séance-talk to her, asking her who she was, but she ignored them. When she was a foot in front of me, looking at me with those green orbs, I tried to seem brave, even if I was a Slurpee inside.
She scanned me up and down, then said, “I believe I took a long nap this time, and I’m somewhat addled, mixing up my decades. But when I wake up, this is what I find in my home? I tell you, the White Lady wouldn’t be so amused to discover this chaos, either.”
“The White Lady,” I lamely repeated. Eek. Another spirit I’d never wanted to meet. I bit back the urge to ask the witch if she ever hung out with Milo, the forest ghost who hated people who wandered around the woods just as much as she and the White Lady did.
The witch waved her branchlike hand in front of her. “The White Lady is a day person, a little shy. Doesn’t get out much.”
Oookay. What to say now?
The ghost hunters were looking around their circle like they’d been expecting a conversation with the spirit and she’d ended their ghost call.
Sierra bent her head. “Let’s try again!”
All of them copied their leader, while Sierra invited more ghosts to join them.
“Amanda Lee,” I said, as the witch continued to stare at me, “maybe we could ask them to pull back a little? As in stop?”
She tore her gaze away from the forest witch and marched forward. Obviously, she’d been able to see the entity.
“Oh,” the witch said, holding up a gnarled finger at Amanda Lee. “Do you think I’m so easily approached?”
Amanda Lee halted like the witch had her on strings. She began to backtrack, rewinding until she returned to where she’d been standing before.
“These hunters you’re with,” the witch said to me in her warped musical voice. “They have no idea what they’re in, do they? They think, Nothing bad is going to happen to us. But, then again, you thought that way as well, didn’t you, cupcake?”
I nodded to her, giving respect.
“Every once in a while,” she said, “I like to reiterate to the world that it can happen to them, but no one ever learns. They keep venturing into my woods. What if I came into something that was precious to you?” She shoved her finger at me.
Before I could tell her that I wouldn’t like that at all, her entire form zapped toward Amanda Lee, plunging into her body, making it quake until she went still.
Was she proving something to me about going into things you didn’t own? Didn’t matter, because whoever was in control of Amanda Lee’s body looked down at herself, smoothing a hand down her turquoise necklace, her artist’s shirt and skirts.
I was pretty sure Amanda Lee, the psychic and spiritual medium, had left the building. Or at least had gone to the basement of it.
She—the witch—laughed. “It’s so nice to have a real figure! And one in such grand form for an older woman. It’s unfortunate you don’t have a body as well, young lady . . .” She left the comment hanging, obviously wondering what my name was.
“Jensen?” I croaked.
The ghost-hunter circle had already turned around to see what was going on with Amanda Lee, who was talking in a higher voice than usual. But Marg and the gypsies had seen the body takeover in full. Marg looked like she wanted to interfere, but the gypsies? They’d skulked back to their places behind the logs.
“Ah, Jensen’s your name,” the witch/Amanda Lee said. “Jensen. As in Murphy?”
“Yes.”
“I remember hearing your story, but don’t mind me if I hold back on my own death tale . . . That’s a point of etiquette I refuse all trespassers.”
“I understand.” But she was kind of beginning to piss me off. I mean, yeah, I shouldn’t have been in Elfin Forest in the first place when I’d been human, but I’d died here. Didn’t that make the woods my home, too? Not that I’d had a choice.
Still, I wasn’t a brat to her. No day, no way.
“Jensen Murphy,” she repeated in that higher-than-usual voice for Amanda Lee. “You’ve had a hard time of it, haven’t you? Now that I’m more awake, I do recall the time you died. The White Lady was enjoying a rare night out with me, and when that boy put on his mask and stalked you, we came this close to scaring him off. But the White Lady and I were having such a delightful time together.”
Wait. “You said boy.”
I thought of all the top suspects we had for my killer: Daniel wasn’t exactly a boy. Neither was Franklin Anson Bruckner or Heather Widden.
“Ahhh.” The witch had a gleam in Amanda Lee’s eyes. “You still don’t know who killed you.” She giggled. “I, however, do know.”
The ghost hunters had heard everything, and they started to whisper among themselves. So much for Amanda Lee’s lie about me dying a peaceful death away from the forest.
The mist in me jumped because now I was really pissed. Didn’t I have a right to privacy? Because if the hunters spread my real story out to the public, I’d never live it down. The dark spirit would’ve had one more act of revenge on me, even though he hadn’t been the one who’d brought out the truth. I was sure this was what he’d wanted, though—to victimize me again.
“Why,” the witch said, putting a hand to Amanda Lee’s cheek, “you don’t know muc
h of anything about your murder, do you, pumpkin?”
I had no shame. “Tell me what you know. Please.”
She tapped a finger against her lips.
“Please.”
“I . . . hmm.” She smiled and lowered her hand. “I think I won’t do that. Because you are a trespasser, in case I haven’t made that clear. Even so . . .” She leaned close to me, bringing the patchouli perfume Amanda Lee had worn tonight with her. “I do believe I will give you a nugget of information. Just because I can.”
How kind of her.
She pointed toward the ghost hunters. “One of them is here to hurt you, Jensen Murphy.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right.
She widened Amanda Lee’s eyes at me. “No response to that?”
“Which human is it?” I asked on a rush of energy.
All three of the hunters stared at each other like they were in a parlor room and a detective was about to bust one of them.
Laughing, the witch played with Amanda Lee’s red-and-gray-streaked hair, shooting a cruel glance to the hunters. “It’s the one with the braids.”
With a cry, 10 jumped away from J.J. and Sierra, but J.J. was quick, and he grabbed her arm.
“Don’t be scared, Landry. Explain what this psychic is saying.”
“Let go of me!”
Panicked, 10 swung a fist at him, but he ducked. Sierra took hold of her other arm.
“What’s your deal? Just talk to us about it.”
The witch laughed and laughed at the human fight, but then she turned to me again.
“The witch sees,” she whispered, wagging Amanda Lee’s finger at me. “And the witch saw in her mind many, many nights ago that these hunters would eventually trespass. It was the braided one who told them about the forest and how they had to investigate it because of a dead girl named Jensen Murphy.”
None of this was sticking with me. I just watched as Sierra, who’d taken Amanda Lee’s witch words to heart, pushed 10 down to the ground, pinning her arms over her head and yelling, “What’s Amanda Lee talking about?”
The witch smiled. “Yes, pretty braids. Why don’t you explain all your ugly lies?”
18
Just as 10 tried to squirm away, Sierra held her down even harder by using her thighs, and, damn, did she have some thighs under her tight, dark pants. Strong for a girl with glasses.
“Tell us what Amanda Lee was talking about, Landry!” she shouted.
J.J. stalked around them. “Quiet. We don’t want anyone living around here to call the cops on us.”
“There isn’t a house close by,” Sierra said, lifting her focus off 10. “That’s why we chose this—”
The braided one violently shifted, but Sierra was radically in charge, wrestling her back down.
Work done here, the witch zinged out of Amanda Lee’s body, springing back into her cloaked, ethereal form and giggling like a girl with a lollipop. She flew to her waiting stallion, and it reared up, snorting smoke, pawing the air. It galloped away with her clinging to its mane, into the trees.
Had she been with us just to stir up some shit? Consider it stirred.
Amanda Lee collapsed to the ground, her hand to her chest, breathing hard.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
But Marg had already zipped to her, bending over her. “Just take in that air, Amanda Lee. You’ll need it. The witch is gone, but we need to get out of here before she decides to come back.”
Couldn’t argue with that logic, and since Marg hadn’t done anything suspicious so far tonight, I jetted to the hunter’s brawl, where Sierra’s dark-framed glasses had fallen off in her zest to keep wrestling 10 down. J.J. only stood by, watching the catfight. I noticed Johnny Eagle was back, chuckling, his ghost fists planted on his hips.
The gypsies had taken off after the witch, like they all knew each other. But who cared about Elfin Forest social dynamics right now?
“You’d better fucking talk,” Sierra whisper-threatened 10. “What haven’t you been telling us?”
10 pressed her lips together like a damned second-grader.
When Sierra smacked her, it rang through the air. “Come on, bitch!”
A defiant glare from 10.
Smack. “I’ll keep on keepin’ on with the love taps until you say something!”
J.J. finally pulled Sierra off. Her hair was a mess of black curls, a hank of them spilling over her squinting eyes until she pushed it back.
“This is going nowhere,” J.J. said, releasing Sierra and bending down to 10. His bright blue eyes were on fire, even if he was controlling himself. “Just explain what’s going on here, Landry.”
“Fuck you!”
J.J. sighed, shaking his head. He got to his feet and swept out his arm, inviting Sierra to continue.
The hunter dove for 10 again as the traitor tried to scramble away and—
Smack! Smack! Smack!
As amusing as this was, it was truly getting us nowhere, so screw it. I materialized.
At the sight of me, the hunters all gasped, rearing back. 10 even shielded her face with an arm.
“Maybe she’ll say something now,” I said.
Sierra recovered first, narrowing her gaze at me without her glasses. “Is it you? Jensen?”
“It’s me.”
“Yes!” She got to her knees, fumbling for her glasses.
In a helpful mood, I said, “To the left.”
She grabbed them, put them on, gave me a thorough survey. “You look just like your picture!”
I didn’t have the time for a duh.
I pointed at 10, who still seemed too shocked to move in my presence. “If you guys can’t make her talk, I will.”
From the background, Amanda Lee’s voice rang out. “You’re not the only one.”
She hadn’t left the forest yet, and even though Marg was on her tail, she came to us, stumbling in her skirts and glaring at 10, reaching a hand toward her, intent on getting the reading she hadn’t been able to get before.
“Back off!” 10 shouted. “You haven’t been able to go into my head, and you won’t be able to now. He told me this would happen, so I was prepared.”
“He?” I asked. “Who’s he?”
I guessed 10 had suddenly gotten used to my presence, because she flipped me off, the little braided cow. I pushed back the pissed-off mist inside me and changed strategy, calming down to see if 10 would cooperate that way.
“Why’d you bring the team here to investigate me?” I asked nicely.
Now she pretended to zip her lip. Mature.
Sierra went for her again, and no one stopped her.
Amanda Lee stood by during the girl-on-girl war, shaking her head. “There were so many things for Ruben to investigate that he never had time to look into this team. But I should’ve felt something. I should’ve known.”
“You’ve been busy, too,” I said. “You can’t catch every vibe around you, especially when 10 was obviously blocking all of us. The dark spirit must’ve taught her how to do that after he learned it.”
Marg was by Amanda Lee’s side. “Not to be a nag, but the witch? Let’s get out of here, take this girl to your place, and find out the truth there.”
At a long, powerful hoot from the bowels of the woods, I had to agree. Rumor had it that a huge white owl creature lived here, too, and the last thing we needed was another freak joining our party.
The humans had heard the mournful sound, too, because they’d gone still. Sierra’s hand was even planted in 10’s braids, midthrottle.
“We’re out of here,” I said to them. “Follow Amanda Lee’s car to her place. That’s where we’ll have a chat with your friend.”
“Swear to God,” Sierra said, bringing 10’s face close to hers, “this isn’t my friend.”
J.J. gave me a freaked-out look—I thought he might’ve been doing that during all the commotion, too—then silently went to 10 and pulled her up from the ground. He easily threw her over his shoulder like a sack of rotten potatoes, and she kicked and pounded at his back.
Marg hardened her hands and clamped them around the girl’s wrists, putting an end to that, and 10 gave a great shudder, then spit into the air, the gunk going straight through a patient Marg.
After Sierra and Amanda Lee quickly collected the sparse equipment the hunters had brought for tonight, we started out of the forest.
Johnny Eagle called to us. “Jensen Murphy?”
I had already dematerialized to save energy, and I paused and glanced over my shoulder at my fellow ghost. He looked like he needed to scram, too, because of that owl.
“Good fortune to you,” he said. “And when you come back to draw power from your death spot, bring a gift for that witch. I try to have nothing to do with her, but she might look on you with more favor since you interacted.”
“A gift? Like what?”
He smiled, and when he did, he was pretty cute, with his longish black hair and sculpted cheekbones.
“Think like a ghost,” he said. Then he winged off, his interest spent.
I watched him veer through the trees until he disappeared. Think like a ghost? Wasn’t that what I’d been trying to do all along?
I caught up with the hunters, Marg, and Amanda Lee. Each one of us was doing our best to stay quiet and avoid the wrath of local humans who were just as protective of their homes, their place in the woods, as the witch had been. I only hoped we hadn’t already ruffled any feathers with all the yelling that’d gone on.
Evidently not, because by the time I reached Amanda Lee, no one had confronted us. Good, because I had a question for her.
“Just how did that witch get into you?” I asked. “I mean, ghosts don’t go into humans without their permission.” Not unless that spirit was a demon. At least, that’s what I’d heard.
She got a better hold on the tripod and camera she was carrying. “She had my blessing.”
I did a double take at her. “Excuse me?”
“Before she came into me, I heard her voice saying she could help us. I believe she was using psychic charm, and I found myself thinking yes.”
Every Breath You Take Page 23
