Garrett took a deep breath, resting his hands on his hips. He practically towered over the two middle-aged cops. “Yeah. It became an FBI matter since more than one child has gone missing, and your PD is understaffed for this.”
“Who’s the other kid?” Bowman asked.
“Have you checked the rest of the house? Any sign of Louella Devereaux?” Garrett replied, bluntly changing the subject.
Bowman evidently noticed the shift but didn’t pursue it. Instead, he pursed his lips. “Nothing. From what we know, they adopted her six months ago. Raucous little thing, had some run-ins with the law before that. Sixteen and perpetually angry, covered in tattoos. We’ll pull her file up for more details, but I specifically remember busting her once for a misdemeanor. She was hanging with the wrong crowd.”
“Do you think she might’ve done this to them?” Fraser murmured, unable to take his eyes off the dead father.
“I’m not excluding the possibility,” Bowman said. “But frankly, I doubt it. The moment she got into the Devereauxes’ place, she stayed out of trouble. I didn’t see her in the back alleys of El Cajon anymore, either.”
“Maybe something happened to her,” Garrett suggested. “Looks like there was quite the struggle here. What if some old nasty friends of hers followed her up here and did this, huh? She’s been missing since yesterday. Maybe someone took her first, then came in and killed the parents.”
I knew where this was going. Garrett was planting early suggestions.
Astrid came back in, swiping on her tablet screen and frowning. “Says here Louella might be a Telepath, based on the eyewitness reports. Some people said she knew too much about them, that she used that information to get favors. You know, better seat in the cafeteria, discount on a blouse, minor stuff like that. She unknowingly tried it on a couple of Neutrals, too, who followed her around for a couple of days and observed her behavior and interactions with people. It’s how she was brought to our attention, in the end.”
That got Bowman and Fraser’s attention. Their eyebrows shot up. Garrett cleared his throat, prompting Astrid to look up.
“Seriously?” Garrett muttered.
“What? I thought you were flashing them,” she retorted.
“What are you people talking about?” Bowman asked.
Garrett walked up to them and slowly raised his left hand, his Esprit watch glistening blue. The cops stilled, their eyes twinkling yellow for a split second. “You never met us. We were never here. You’ll stand here in silence until you hear a honk outside. After that, you’ll resume your investigation. Louella is missing. Something must’ve happened to her. You’ll put an APB out on her.”
The cops stood there, idle and absent-looking, as we left the house. I found the Ryder twins’ card on the floor in the hallway. I picked it up and handed it to Garrett.
“They’ll be in there for a while,” Garrett said, looking at the card. “Hm… This does have their stench all over it.”
“This is just like the Cranstons,” Astrid replied.
“Despite what you said to the cops, we have no idea what happened to Louella.” I sighed. “Could she have run away, or did the Ryders take her?”
“We won’t know for sure until we canvass the area,” Garrett said.
Tatyana, there are spirits here. They saw what happened, Oberon chimed in, startling me.
“Hold on,” I murmured. “Let me check with the spirits.”
Garrett and Astrid waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs, while I remained at the top, closing my eyes.
“You’d better come through for me, Oberon,” I whispered.
As the darkness settled around me, I noticed the spirits drifting around—most of them in the yard, though there were a couple standing right next to Garrett and Astrid, motionless and semi-transparent.
There, in the yard, Oberon said. They know something.
I made my way down the stairs and stepped onto the green space, where dozens of hydrangeas and rosebushes blossomed in rich shades of pink, lilac, and red. Four spirits stood in the middle, in the shade of a massive magnolia tree. They didn’t look from this era, but rather from the early 1900s. Three of them were Latinas, and the fourth was African American—she caught my eye.
With or without Oberon’s guidance, as a Kolduny I was able to spot spirits that could help me. I could see it in her eyes. The African-American girl had seen something.
“There’s a ghost inside you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
“I know. He’s helping me,” I replied, giving her a soft smile. “What are you all doing here?”
They looked at each other, then over my shoulder at the other two spirits, next to Garrett and Astrid. The African-American girl sighed. “We died together. There was a fire here in 1912. Well, those two back there, by the stairs, died sometime in the fifties. A party went horribly wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But why are you all still around? You should’ve moved on.”
“We don’t know about the two starlets, but we couldn’t,” one of the Latinas replied. “The young lady of the house at the time, Estrella, was only five. We had to look after her.”
“Then she had children. We wanted to protect them, too,” the African-American girl added. “Then the Devereaux clan bought the mansion and kicked them out. For some reason, we were stuck here. We couldn’t follow Estrella’s family.”
“That’s all very nice, but what did you see?” Oberon cut in, his voice louder and clearer than before. Suddenly, I felt tired and heavy, as if Oberon was draining the life out of me.
“Get back inside,” I said. “You’re wearing me out! This isn’t part of the deal, Oberon!”
I heard him grumble something, before I felt the enormous pressure leave my shoulders. I could breathe again.
“Something horrible happened here,” the African-American girl said. “Two people… with strange powers… They came up to the door very early this morning. I think it was three, maybe four o’clock. The Devereauxes let them in, because they said something had happened to Louella. The Devereauxes were already worried. They hadn’t seen her since Saturday morning.”
“Then they talked for a while about Louella,” one of the Latinas added. “The strangers wanted to know where she could’ve gone.”
“They didn’t know where Louella was?” I asked. The spirits shook their heads simultaneously. “Which means they probably tried to catch her outside the Devereaux property, maybe somewhere in town. They came here knowing she wouldn’t have come back home, and inserted themselves onto the property.”
“They killed them,” the African-American girl said, her lower lip trembling. “They slit their throats and trashed the place, then dropped a card on the floor and left, laughing. They were laughing!”
“What did they look like?” I asked.
“The girl had short black hair and brown eyes. The boy had long black hair and brown eyes. They were related, undoubtedly. Perhaps siblings,” she said. “They looked alike. They were vicious. So vicious.”
“When is the last time you saw Louella?” I replied.
The African-American girl exchanged glances with the others, and frowned at me. “Early morning on Saturday. She left the house in a hurry, but I don’t know why. I wasn’t inside at the time. Her mother came out, shouting her name and asking her to come back, but Louella wouldn’t listen. She kept going, until she vanished up the road. None of us could follow.”
“I suppose you’re all tied to the property, that’s why,” I said. “Thank you all. Thank you.”
I left them beneath the magnolia tree and headed back to Garrett and Astrid, the darkness dissipating around me as I returned to the living plane.
You should ask those other two standing behind your friends, Oberon suggested.
I stopped in front of Astrid and Garrett, then closed my eyes again. Two young girls in midcentury garb were chatting behind them, giggling and giving me sideways glances.
“Did y
ou two see anything?” I asked them.
They both shook their heads. One of them was a redhead, the other a luscious brunette. Their skirts and ruffled tops reminded me of movies from Hollywood’s Golden Age. They must’ve worked in the business. They had the theatrical gestures and demeanor of Californian starlets.
“I think you did,” I said, smirking.
“We’re not interested in talking to you,” the redhead replied. “You’re bland.”
“That hunk you’ve got in you, though… He can chat us up if he wants to.” The brunette grinned, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing with frustration. “Do you have anything to share about what happened last night, or do you just want me to hook you up with another ghost? Because he can’t take you girls out on a date, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”
“We know that!” the brunette snapped, then pouted. “But it’s been a long time since we’ve met someone as dashing as your… friend. We just want him to talk to us, and we’ll tell you what we saw.”
“You’re not yanking my chain here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
They both seemed insulted, their nostrils flaring angrily. At this point, I had a choice. Leave them be, or let Oberon talk through my body. That meant revealing him to Garrett and Astrid. Information was crucial at this point. I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.
“Take over for a minute,” I said to Oberon.
His glee tickled my throat, shortly before I felt crushed under the weight of a pickup truck. That was how intense it was when a ghost took control of my body. It wore me out.
“Hey, ladies.” Oberon chuckled, and my lips stretched into a sly grin. I could only imagine what Astrid and Garrett were thinking in that moment. I couldn’t hear or see them in the veil, but I had lost my ability to rein in my voice, as well as control over my body.
“Hi, handsome,” the brunette replied with a seductive wink.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” the redhead exclaimed, clapping with excitement.
I was having a hard time not only consciously supporting the full weight of Oberon’s spirit, but also struggling not to roll my eyes at them.
“Glad to know I’m making two gorgeous creatures such as yourselves happy,” Oberon said, turning his charm up to eleven. “How about you tell me what you saw last night? My spirit-talking friend and I would really appreciate it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you’re in her! I never tried possessing someone before!” the brunette murmured.
Oberon sensed my alarm and chuckled nervously. “Well, don’t, toots. It’s not for amateurs. This is a powerful conduit I’m riding, not your run-of-the-mill type of human. Now, come on, tell me what you saw. Louella’s life is at stake.”
“Ugh. That dramatic little brat,” the redhead groaned. “She got so lucky to get her scrawny ass adopted into the Devereaux family, and she still threw fits. ‘I wanna go there! I wanna do that! Why won’t you let me see my old friends?’ Boo-friggin’-hoo! Girl didn’t know how good she had it until last night!”
“Wait, she was here?” Oberon replied.
They both nodded. “She was at the gates,” the brunette said. “The other ghosts… you know, the maids and whatever… they were inside with the Devereauxes. Front seats to the gruesome murder!” she added with sinister laughter.
“But Louella was out here. She’s a weird one, you know? She can see through walls. She can hear from miles away,” the redhead added. “Something is wrong with her.”
“Anyway, we think Louella was coming back home, when she heard her parents getting slaughtered in there,” the brunette said, nodding at the house, then pointing at the gate. “She stood there for a minute or two, then ran off crying.”
I understood then that Louella had some special abilities, indeed. Some I’d never heard of before—not without the use of a spell, anyway. Maybe she’d learned magic from somewhere. We couldn’t know for sure until we found her.
“Anything else, ladies?” Oberon asked, detecting my raw nerves as they stretched to new limits. He knew how much his full presence weighed on me.
“The killers came out, cackling like devils,” the redhead replied, “and walked out through the front gate. They said, and I quote, ‘Katie’s going to hang our asses out to dry if we don’t catch the little mouse,’” she added, mimicking a nasal tone.
“Thank you.” Oberon sighed. “Your assistance was incredible. And, might I add, you two look fantastic, given that you’re, you know… dead.”
They both fawned over him, fluttering their eyelashes and almost melting before us. I felt Oberon slip into the backseat of my consciousness. I could breathe again.
Leaving the spirit world behind, I opened my eyes to a very troubled Astrid and a highly amused Garrett. Astrid put her phone out, its screen dark, long enough for her to spot Oberon’s reflection in the glass. She gasped, then took several steps back.
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to keep her from freaking out. She’d seen me possessed before. “I’ve got him under control. He’s helping me.”
“You let a ghost ride you? Seriously?” Garrett chuckled. “I heard about the last time you were taken over, Tatyana. You still haven’t learned your lesson?”
“I told you, I’ve got him under control!” I insisted. “I have full command over my body at all times!”
That was a white lie, of course. Only minutes earlier, Oberon had completely taken over with the first group of spirits before I snapped at him. But I didn’t need to admit that. Oberon had been incredibly helpful just now. I had to give him credit.
“Tatyana, seriously, this is messed up,” Astrid said. “You know you’re not fully developed, so you can’t withstand a possession without the spirit eventually taking over.”
“Astrid, don’t worry about it. I mean it. I’m fine. We agreed to work together, Oberon and me. And he definitely helped!” I replied. “I just found out that Louella left the house early yesterday morning after an argument with the parents. Something happened during the day. Late last night, at around three or four, the Ryders came in.”
Now I had their full attention, the issue of Oberon and me slipping somewhere in the background. I gave them all the details I’d gathered from the spirits, including the last time they’d seen Louella, specifically during her parents’ murder.
Garrett and Astrid were silent for a while.
“The description you have of the Ryders,” Astrid murmured, flipping through her Smartie tablet files. “I’ve heard it before. Yup, here it is. They’re Shapeshifters, all right, just like Wade said. And they’re recycling identities. This wasn’t the first time they used these personas.”
“It hurts less to recycle identities,” Garrett said.
“One thing I could never wrap my head around is how do they get all the physical details right? They can’t possibly do it with just a photo,” I chimed in, further steering the conversation away from Oberon.
Garrett’s shoulders dropped. “They need to touch the person they’re copying. Or something that carries their DNA, like a hair or a nail or something.”
“Wow, that’s creepy,” Astrid replied, then frowned at him. “Wait, how’d you know that? It’s not in any of the manuals. It’s not common knowledge, for sure.”
“It isn’t,” I muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. “I’ve never heard of that before. As a matter of fact, from what I remember, non-Shapeshifter magicals are unable to fully explain the transformation process.”
“It’s because we keep it to ourselves. Usually, anyway. I feel like I can trust you two,” Garrett said.
“Holy crap!” Astrid gasped. “You’re a Shapeshifter!”
“And you’re a human, and Tatyana here has a ghost riding her,” Garrett fired back, irritated. “Nobody’s perfect!”
“Does anyone in the coven know?” I asked, slightly on edge.
“Alton, Wade, and Adley. That’s it. Well, and now you two.
I’d appreciate it if we kept it at that. The stigma is still real and present,” he said. “I’m not comfortable with more people knowing about this, but I am aware that my ability can give you some insight into how the Ryders operate. And that’s what matters right now.”
Astrid stood in silence, processing the discovery. Then she looked at me. “You need to tell Wade about what you’re doing with the ghost. Wait, whose ghost is in you?”
“Oberon Marx,” I said.
“Oh. He helped you with Dylan, right?”
I nodded. “I’ll tell Wade, but not yet. I don’t want him expelling Oberon.”
“But—”
“You know that’s exactly what Wade will do, the moment he hears I’ve got a ghost in me!” I cut her off, my tone clipped.
“For good reason, too!” she said.
“It’s not the same, Astrid. I’m conscious, and I have a grip on things. Please. Just bear with me. We need all the help we can get. I mean, look at this mess,” I said, pointing at the Devereaux mansion. I wasn’t entirely honest, and Oberon probably had something to do with it, but he’d proven himself useful. I wasn’t ready to let go of him. “Bodies are dropping, magical kids are going poof. And Katherine Shipton might be involved. This is not a good time to play by the rules.”
“Tatyana does have a point,” Garrett said. “Special circumstances call for extreme measures. You know that. It’s why you were brought back to life three times, right? Special circumstances?”
Astrid nodded slowly. I remembered her previous, tragic deaths. As a Necromancer, Alton was able to bring her back, though each time it threw him straight into a Purge, given the intensity of the entire process. But he had to bring her back. Astrid was a human, and she’d died while helping us magicals. He had the coven authority to do that.
“I’ll put all the data we gathered from here through Smartie and send it out to Wade and the others. I’ll leave Oberon out of this for now,” she said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “But the moment I smell something fishy, Tatyana, I’m telling Wade. Okay?”
Harley Merlin 2: Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins Page 21
