How to Ditch Dead Guys (The Witch's Handbook Book 2)

by Ann M. Noser

  I scowl. “Why do you enjoy aggravating me so much?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s my job.” He gives me a quick squeeze.

  I stiffen my back against his gesture. “Then get a new one.”

  “You’re the one who needs a job.” He drops the arm he had around me, and I immediately miss its warmth.

  “I tried. I went to meet the professor.”

  “Did you like him?” he asks.

  “Yes, very much. He’s waiting to help his wife when she gets here. She has Alzheimer’s.” I glance around at the people milling about nearby. “This place is good for fixing what’s wrong with you. The cancer kids like Tommy play outside until they’re strong again. The old ladies take water aerobics until their arthritis is gone. I wonder what I’ll be like when I’m done.”

  “Some of the ladies like my classes so much they keep coming long after they’re healed. I’m just that fun to be around. As far as the professor’s wife is concerned, she’ll need more than what’s offered here. He’ll have to take her to the Healing Islands.”

  “The Healing Islands. Where’s that?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I didn’t have to go there because my mind is perfect.”

  I snort. “That’s debatable. Now take me back to Steve’s office so I don’t have to ask Cari for directions again.”

  Jake stands, done eating already. “Why don’t you like Cari? She’s a friend of mine.”

  “So I’ve heard.” My cheeks flare as he grabs my hand and we walk that way together.

  “You’re jealous.” Jake squeezes my hand. “Good. I was beginning to wonder about you.”

  I stop walking. “Listen, Jake. I’m sorry if I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend—if that’s what this is, I mean. It’s all new to me, and I’ve got a lot on my mind right now.”

  “Emma, I don’t expect you to drop everything and turn into some perfect girlfriend. In fact, I don’t want you to turn into anything. I like you as is.”

  I flush under his intense gaze, unable to say a word. Please kiss me, I silently beg of him.

  His eyes seem more troubled than loving. “But I’m worried you’re in serious danger.”

  Ugh. “Why do you all keep saying that?” Darn. I guess that means no kissing.

  Jake exhales. “You’re here way too early. You’re possessed. You’ve sent Mike back-for the second time. You’re seeing monsters and witches in the woods. To be honest, I don’t know what to think. Which is why—even though I don’t like him—I think you better get Steve to help you. He owes you, right?”

  “Yes, he does. And the Steve I remember likes to pay his bills.” But I’m not sure I trust him anymore.

  “Then let’s go.” Jake nods in the general direction.

  We keep a brisk pace until I spot the huge wooden door.

  Jake pauses. “What if he won’t see you without an appointment?”

  “He will. I’ve got this.” I pull out a picture of his son.

  “Why were you carrying around all those pictures anyway? Why didn’t you put them in frames like normal people?”

  “I wasn’t supposed to know any of you, remember? You were all dead before I met you. Except for Mike, of course.”

  “Of course, Mike.” Jake looks at his feet. “Okay, then. I’ll see you at supper.”

  I knock as Jake strides off in the other direction. The heavy door echoes, announcing my visit. A bodybuilder dressed in an Armani knockoff opens the imposing door to glower at me.

  I clear my throat. “Tell Steve that I have important information about Officer Walker.”

  He crosses his beefy arms. “You already had an appointment with him this morning.”

  My eyes narrow. “Well then, Mr. Helpful, why don’t you inform him that I have a picture of his son in my possession?”

  He reaches out a massive hand.

  I hide the picture behind my back. “He’s not getting it until I talk to him in person.”

  “Fine.” He ushers me into the fancy office.

  A minute later, Steve enters smiling, hand outstretched to accept the picture. His eyes soften as he gazes at his son. “Thank you, Emma. You’re the best.”

  I shift my weight between my feet, stalling momentarily. “I feel bad ruining the moment, but there’s something important I forgot to tell you earlier. When Walker had me repeat the séance, I entered the mind of your killer.”

  Steve’s smile disappears, replaced by an unreadable expression.

  “He’s dead now, too,” I continue. “His name was Dominic. He’d joined a gang, and they sacrificed him a short time after he killed you.”

  Steve steps behind his desk, gaze averted. “Yes, I know.”

  “You know?” This floors me.

  He places the picture into a long slim drawer. “He’s here now.”

  “Dominic’s here? But he killed you. Does everyone get to come here, regardless of their sins? That doesn’t seem fair.”

  Steve pauses, resting his fingertips on the glossy desk. “I brought him here.”

  “How?” My stomach drops. “Or don’t I want to know?”

  “Trust me.” He turns away. “You don’t.”

  “But how did you find out about him before I told—”

  “I’ve got feelers out,” his voice is calm, smooth, disconnected. “I discovered the gang that killed me, and sooner or later, its members always end up dead.”

  I gasp. “Steve, what’s going on here? Things are getting crazy—”

  “Thanks for your concern, but you have to go now.” Steve grabs my arm and forces me to his office door.

  “I’m not leaving yet!” I wrench my arm out of his grip.

  “Don’t judge me, Emma. You should hate them as much as I do. They were after you, too. For your powers. Who knows what they would’ve done to you if you hadn’t…” He pauses mid-sentence. “But enough about that. Thanks for the picture of my son. I do appreciate it.”

  “Steve, are you in over your head? If you need help, ask.”

  “Trust me.” He straightens his shoulders. “I’ve got this under control. Now, I’m late for an important meeting. We’ll have to continue this discussion another time.” His eyes shine cold and unfamiliar.

  The door swings open. Another guard stands outside.

  Steve clears his throat. “Emma Roberts was just leaving.”

  The guard grabs my arm, yanks me through the doorway, and drags me down the hall.

  “No!” I scream as Steve disappears around a corner. “What about Mike? What did you find out? You’ve got to tell me—”

  The guard tosses me outside. I crumple in the road like a discarded rag. The heavy door slams shut with a thud. People step around me as I rise to my feet, gawking at me, and scurrying out of my way.

  I glare at the wooden entry door.

  Steve’s quest for revenge has driven him mad. He’s not even going to help Mike.

  I’m going to have to do this myself.

  But how?

  rush into the dining hall. Breathless, I plop down next to silver-haired Bernard and his adopted kids.

  “Hey, are you busy tonight?” I ask him. “We need to talk.”

  “Sorry, Emma.” Bernard puts an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “I promised Colleen we’d attend the ‘father-daughter’ dance down on the beach. And this here’s Tommy. Jake said he could hang out with the two of you while we’re gone.”

  My eyes stray toward Jake up at the food counter, heaping sandwiches and drinks onto trays. I bite my lip and turn back to Bernard. “It’s about Mike. Are you’re sure you haven’t seen him since I got here?”

  Bernard winks and chuckles. “Still got a thing for him, do ya?”

  “No. That’s not it—” I protest.

  Jake’s tray clatters on our table.

  Bernard glances around the room. “Well, I haven’t seen him. I don’t know where he is. Sorry to eat and run, but we’re late for our ‘date.’“ He and Colleen hurry off, le
aving Tommy behind.

  I push the food Jake brought me around my plate. I can’t believe Steve isn’t going to help, that he only cares about himself now. Actually, I can believe it, but it doesn’t make me any less disappointed.

  “Are you going to eat that?” Tommy asks. His plate looks like it has been licked clean.

  I slide my untouched tray across the table toward him.

  “Gee. Thanks!” He wins me over with a crooked smile.

  “No problem. I’m just not hungry.” My stomach feels heavy, like a giant piece of concrete.

  It doesn’t help that Jake has fallen into a sullen silence. After supper, the three of us meander onto a wide terrace overlooking the ocean. The breeze carries beach party music up to the patio. The catchy rhythm of the steel drums beckons my feet to move.

  “I’ll be right back.” Jake excuses himself to go speak to a tall blonde I haven’t met yet on the other side of the terrace.

  The woman giggles and a jealous pang stabs me. She’s probably the one I saw him dancing with in my vision. That’s just great.

  Tommy taps his foot to the music and glances shyly at me.

  I smile. “Tommy, are you going to ask me to dance?”

  He grins. “Okay, if you insist.”

  This kid has spent way too much time with Jake. Where else would he learn lines like that? We sway awkwardly to the beat due to our height difference. From the patio, I gaze down toward the beach and the sparkling waters stretching far into the distance.

  “Do you like living with Bernard and Colleen?” I ask.

  “Yes, they’re nice to me.” He pauses for a moment. “We’re waiting for Bernard’s wife. Do you know her?”

  “Yes, I know Claire. She’s super nice, too.”

  Tommy takes a deep breath. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

  I smile at his sweet uncertainty. “Of course she will.”

  “Good.” He exhales. “I’m waiting for my mom. But God said I have to wait a long time.”

  This is so weird. People here want their loved ones to die. It’s not like that on Earth.

  “You’re lucky you don’t have to wait.” He grins at me. “Coach is already here.”

  Jake waited for me? My heart hiccups as he saunters back our way.

  “Tommy, I saw your friends down on the beach.” Jake thumbs toward the sandy dunes.

  The boy scurries off and Jake smoothly cuts in. “Shall we dance?”

  “Uh… I guess so.” The blood pulsating in my ears drowns out the music.

  His muscular arms wrap around me. “This is much better. I’ve got you alone at last.”

  I tense. Why can’t I relax around him? “Don’t expect much-I’m not a very good dancer.”

  “Don’t worry.” He whispers in my ear. “I know you’re not a graceful ballerina. We’ve danced together before, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.” My steps falter.

  Jake tries to continue dancing, but I’ve stopped moving. “Emma, what’s wrong? Every time I touch you, you freak out. Do you want me to leave you alone, or what?”

  My head is pounding along with the beat. “I’m… distracted. I’m so angry at Steve and worried about Mike that I can’t think about anything else right now.”

  He steps back. “Emma, you’re the one who got beat up, tattooed, and almost killed, but still the only thing you care about is that you sent Mike back to Earth once again.”

  I bite my lip. “But who’s going to take care of Mike this time? I’m not there to help him.”

  Jake clenches his hands. “Mike’s a grown man. He should be able to take care of himself. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you’re just disappointed that you’re here and he’s there.”

  What? My mouth falls open. “That’s not it at all.”

  “You know.” Jake lowers his voice. “I feel like there’s a conversation we started and never got to finish. And maybe it’s too late. Maybe you’ve changed your mind already. I mean, you were drunk that night…” His voice trails off.

  “That’s not it-“

  “It’s not? Don’t forget I read your diary. All this witchcraft business happened because you insta-loved on Mike before he drowned. I just came along in the aftermath. And everyone says stupid things when they’re drunk. You could’ve thought you were talking to Mike, for all I know.”

  “No. I said what I said because I meant it.” I cross my arms. “Not because I was drunk.”

  Jake stares at me. “Then say it now.”

  I avert my gaze, watching all the other people dancing around us on the patio. Are they listening in? “Can’t we talk about this later?”

  “Do you love me?” Jake’s eyes narrow. “Or not? It’s a rather simple question.”

  My heart races. I’d like nothing better than to go home with him, but I’m not that kind of girl. I’m a Trixie Belden kind of girl, fixing problems, solving mysteries. Duty first. “I do, but I can’t focus on this right now. Steve’s turned into President Psycho up here, I’m still loaded with disturbed spirits, and Mike is stranded back on Earth with no one to help him.”

  He throws up his arms. “How come you can’t see that you’re the one here who needs the most help?”

  I flinch. “Well, God could help, but He, She, or It won’t see me.”

  He grabs my arms, but with a gentle touch. “What if you’re wrong? What if Mike didn’t go back? Maybe he moved on.” Jake pauses. “What if it those spirits possessing you want you to believe this? Maybe it’s a trick.”

  “Haven’t you noticed-Mike’s not here! That’s proof enough for me. He’s stuck back on Earth, where he didn’t want to be even the last time around, and once again I’m responsible.”

  “Mike wasn’t waiting for you, just so you know.” He takes a deep breath. “I was. Not that it matters to you, apparently.”

  “You’re jealous over nothing. I just want Mike to be okay. I can’t stand the thought of hurting him. And Steve’s not helping at all. He’s being a total jerk.”

  “Of course he is. That’s no surprise. But, despite what you say, I think you still care about Mike a little too much for my comfort.”

  My heart spasms. Am I having a heart attack now? Does that happen here? “Can’t you accept that you’re not the only person in my life who needs me?”

  “Oh. Is that it?” He glances away. “Then I guess I understand everything.”

  “Then explain it to me, because I don’t understand a thing. Why won’t God see me? Why is my grandma cursed? What was that Creature she was talking to? It was the scariest thing I’ve seen yet. Is that who I’m going to turn into someday? My grandma, I mean. Not the dog.”

  Jake stares at the ground. “Answer me one thing: when you threw that Book in the fire pit, were you trying to get rid of it or were you hoping to get Mike back again? Be honest.”

  I cross my arms. “No, you idiot! I was just trying to get rid of the demons.”

  He keeps talking as if he hasn’t heard me. “I thought I knew you.”

  “You do know me. You read my whole stupid diary, remember?”

  He glances back up, right in my eyes. “Yeah, I did. I guess that means I should’ve known better.” Before I can respond, he walks away.

  I watch him head down to the beach. I want to say something, but it has to be the right thing. My mouth is dry and wordless, but this time I can’t blame the demons inside me.

  I can only blame myself.

  ighting tears, I skirt around the dining hall and rush in the opposite direction, cruising down the winding streets without a destination in mind. With each turn, I get more lost. The cobblestone paths lined with stone buildings all look the same. Why does Jake drive me crazy? He makes me so angry I can’t even say what I should. If only he’d just shut up once in a while.

  Tears blind me as I turn another corner.

  Angry voices cry out, “Witch! Evil! Filthy abomination!”

  Startled, I wipe away tears. People cluster outside a beautiful white c
hurch with a curved blue roof. They’re all staring at me. Each person clenches a cross, a rosary, or some other religious token, as if to protect themselves.

  “Willing harborer of the demon!”

  “Daughter of Darkness!”

  “Satan’s Slut!”

  My mouth falls open. No one calls me a slut! That’s not even close to the truth.

  “Don’t say that!” No one’s bullying me ever again, no matter who they are. “Who said you were all so holy? Let the one who is without sin be the first to cast a stone, or whatever.” I glance at the rocks lining the road.

  Bad choice of Bible verse on my part.

  The church doors swing open and a woman drifts out, a blissful look on her face. The next person in line darts inside before the doors crashes shut. Wait a minute. Could this be…?

  “Is this the waiting line to see God?” I ask.

  The people back away.

  “Is it? You better answer me.” I stride toward the waiting line and the hecklers stiffen. A curly haired woman dressed like a flight attendant purses her lips.

  I point at her. “And if you dare call me a slut again, I’ll turn your hair green permanently.”

  Laughter bursts forth behind me. I spin around.

  “You tell them, my Little Witch.” Grandma laughs, her bright blue eyes flashing.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Looking for you, as usual,” she responds.

  The crowd murmurs its disapproval. A mother covers her child’s eyes with the edge of her robe, which makes me feel guilty. Why does she believe I’m that bad? I was only trying to help. That’s all I ever do.

  “Come with me, girl.” Grandma gestures toward the side of the church, away from the main line. “Our kind uses the side door.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I follow her into a small garden filled with burgundy peonies.

  Grandma touches my arm. “You need guidance. The way you’re headed, you’ll get lost.”

  “Who’s going to help me?” I ask.

  She points to an ornately carved wooden door. “Seek and ye shall find.”

  I grab the handle. The second the door opens, my feet slide like skates through the open doorway and halfway down the hall before I come to an abrupt stop. The temperature plummets. My breath hangs in the air like I’m in a walk-in freezer. I run my hands along the wooden wall for support until I reach the red curtains at the far end. I extend both arms in front of me as I approach the red drapes. I struggle through layers of thick velvet fabric, but instead of entering a sanctuary, I descend the aisle of an empty college lecture hall.