The Sixth Ghost: a supernatural urban fantasy action adventure (Cards of Death book 6)

by Tamara Geraeds

  Vicky’s eyes grow sad. “Althan. His name was Althan.”

  I place a hand on her arm. “It was so sad to see him die, but there was nothing we could do, babe.”

  “I know.”

  Carefully, I touch the glass of the bottle. “What do you think it does? It must have been important for him to risk his life like that.”

  She nods slowly, her eyes never leaving the liquid. “He said ‘this will help you’.”

  I remember the moment. The white tree leaning into the portal, Vicky reaching up to take the bottle from him, and him tumbling to his death.

  “Help you with what though?” I say. “We don’t even know what it is.”

  Vicky looks up with a hopeful expression on her face. “Hey, maybe your father’s book knows!”

  “Good thinking!” I lean over to my nightstand, where I keep everything that’s normally tucked behind my waistband. It still baffles me that the two notebooks seem to shrink when I put them there. All this magical stuff is even more awesome than in the movies.

  Vicky shuffles forward until she’s sitting next to me and hands me the bottle.

  I place Dad’s notebook on my lap and hold the bottle above it.

  “I’d like to know what this liquid can be used for,” I say, loud and clear.

  Vicky nudges me with a grin. “You don’t need to say it. The book can read your mind, remember?”

  I give her a quick kiss on the lips. “I know, but this might give us the answer we seek sooner.”

  The pages of the book start to flip by themselves, making my heartrate go up. My hands get sweaty at the thought of discovering something important.

  The pages seem to keep moving forever. I bite my lip. What if the book doesn’t know the answer?

  Vicky leans closer and closer until her head blocks my view completely.

  With a chuckle, I pull her back. “I can’t see anything, babe.”

  “Sorry.” She fidgets with her dark hair. “What’s taking so long?”

  “It must be a difficult question.” I switch the bottle to my right hand and wrap my left arm around Vicky. “Don’t worry. We can always search the Pentaweb if the book doesn’t know the answer.”

  Just when I lose faith, the pages finally settle down. I expect to see some sort of revealing spell, but instead, I find a couple of scribbles. I recognize the handwriting immediately.

  Vicky frowns at it. “Did your father write something about it?”

  I hand the bottle back to her, pull back my arm and pick up the book. “I think so. Let’s find out.”

  “Although I’ve never used it myself, I’ve heard that tree sap can be a powerful ingredient to certain spells. The older the tree, the more powerful the sap will be. I’ve added a list of uses for several trees here. The most powerful and useful tree sap, however, is that of trees from other worlds. Ents, preferably.”

  I exchange a quick look with Vicky. “This is so weird. It’s as if Dad knew we’d run into some ents in an unknown world someday.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe he had a feeling you might need this information. Magic works in mysterious ways.” She points at the next line. “Read on.”

  “I’m not sure if this is true, but I found a story on the Pentaweb that spoke of an old race of Ents in a world that has no name. These Ents are neither good nor evil. Their goal is to help keep the balance in the universe.”

  “This is them,” Vicky says excitedly. “I just know it.”

  I nod. “I think you’re right. Listen to this.

  These Ents are as old as the universe itself. They look like dead, white trees, and their language consists of moans and creaks. However, they can also speak many other languages.”

  “So, what does their tree sap do?” Vicky interrupts.

  I skip a couple of lines. “Here it is.

  The tree sap from these Ents is only useful if it was given to you voluntarily. If you take it by force, it has no power. The Ents don’t give it away easily, and if they do, it is to protect or restore the balance of the universe.”

  Vicky snatches the book from my hands. “Yes, but what does it do?”

  “Hang on, I was getting to that.” I take the book back and search for the spot where I left off.

  “The sap can be drunk by someone plagued by a curse. The curser will be revealed to the cursed one, even if they are protected by a spell.”

  Vicky slides from the bed and jumps up and down. I’ve never seen her so happy. “Yes! Finally!”

  Vicky takes the book and tosses it to the other end of the bed before grabbing my hands and pulling me with her around the room. “This is my chance to get rid of the other curse! I can finally find out who it is that touches my grave.”

  I grab her by the waist and twirl her around. “Soon you’ll be freed of both curses!”

  We hug and dance until someone knocks on the door.

  “Come in,” I yell, elated.

  When the door opens, Taylar peers around the corner. “Is everything alright?”

  His face lights up when he sees our smiles. “Did you get good news?”

  “We did!” I let go of Vicky and look for my pants. “Let me get dressed. We’ll be downstairs in a minute, then we’ll tell you all about it. Can you gather everyone?”

  “I think everyone is already in the kitchen. Kessley is making breakfast.” He snorts. “Or something resembling it.”

  With a wink, he vanishes.

  I put on my clothes from yesterday while Vicky hops up and down impatiently. “Hurry up! I want to tell the others.”

  “Hang on, I’m not going anywhere without my notebooks, my Morningstar and my athame, you know that.”

  When everything is in place, I grab her by the waist and give her a long kiss. For a couple of seconds, she seems to forget her haste.

  I look her in the eyes when I let go. “I love this happy, carefree you. I hope to see a lot more of her.”

  She ruffles my hair. “You will, once we’ve kicked my curser’s ass.”

  “I can’t wait.” With a wide smile, I follow her down the stairs.

  CHAPTER 23

  Kessley’s breakfast is actually not bad. It’s whole wheat toast topped with sliced banana. Simple, but satisfying. Even Maël takes a slice once we’ve told them the good news.

  “Works great when you have a hangover,” Kess claims.

  I swallow a bite of my toast. “That doesn’t work anymore once you’re dead though, right?”

  She grins. “Probably not, but it can’t hurt to try.”

  “So, when are you going to drink that tree sap, Vicky?” Taylar asks.

  “Yes, what are you waiting for?” Charlie pipes up.

  Vicky stares at the bottle of tree sap placed before her on the table. “Well, I was thinking…” She scratches her head. “Maybe we should save it for a more important curse. We don’t know what’s waiting for us in the future, what surprises Lucifer has planned for us.”

  My heart grows at her words. She’s willing to risk getting stuck in the Shadow World forever in order to save one of us.

  Judging by his deep frown, Taylar isn’t too happy with Vicky’s suggestion. “How many times do you think you have left to get pulled toward the Shadow World and come back?”

  Vicky leans back in her chair. “I have no idea. But I think at least one more time.”

  Maël taps her staff on the floor, and all heads turn to her. “Vicky makes a good point. We have a powerful tool in our possession. One we might be able to use later. But perhaps not.” She twirls the stick around in her hand. “We know we can use it now. Freeing Vicky of her second curse will also free us of some unexpected disappearances. It will make Vicky a stronger and more reliable fighter. But it might get us into trouble later.”

  There’s a short silence as we ponder her words. When no one else speaks up, I lay down my thoughts. “I think there’s a reason why we received this bottle now and not later. We
were able to find out that Kasinda put the curse on my parents, which was transferred to me and Vicky, but we have no idea who put the other curse on Vicky. This is our chance to find out and hopefully get rid of it.”

  Charlie and Gisella don’t look convinced, and although I’m in charge, I want this to be a joint decision.

  So I lean forward with my hands folded on the table. “The last thing we want to do now is risk losing another member of the Shield.” I hold up my hand when Charlie opens his mouth in protest. “Or another friend. We cannot afford to lose anyone else, even though we’ve got Kessley now.” The longer I talk, the more I get convinced that this is the right thing to do. “I say we use the tools we were handed to solve the problems we have now instead of holding on to them–with the risk of losing them–for a moment that might never come. We need to get our team in the best shape possible, not only to beat Lucifer, but to get our friends and my mom back.”

  Charlie opens his mouth again, and this time, I let him speak.

  I’m surprised by what he says. “I totally agree.”

  I rub my forehead. “You do?”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure, you know, but when you put it like that, I can see the logic behind it.”

  Gisella nods. “Me too.”

  My gaze moves back to Vicky. “What about you?”

  She shrugs. “You’re the master.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not the answer I want to hear. I know you don’t feel comfortable putting yourself before others, but we need you as much as anyone else.”

  Finally, she looks up. “Okay then, if no one has a problem with it.”

  Reassurances fly over the table, mixed with smiles and the shaking of heads.

  I point at the bottle. “You’d better do it now, before something comes up.”

  She picks up the bottle and uncorks it.

  “Wait,” Charlie says, and her hand freezes midair.

  My best friend gestures at the half-eaten toast with banana in front of Maël, Vicky and me. “Can I have that? I’m famished.”

  We all laugh, the tension broken for a second. Three plates are shoved in Charlie’s direction. The silence that follows is only broken by the crunching of bread between his teeth.

  Vicky lifts the bottle to her lips, and after an encouraging nod from me, she empties it into her throat in one go.

  “Hmm.” She tilts her head and licks her lips. “It doesn’t taste bad.”

  With a surprised “oomph”, she’s pressed against the back of her chair. Her eyes roll back, and she grits her teeth. Her hands grasp the edge of the table so hard it creaks in protest.

  I jump to my feet, but Maël holds up her hand. “Leave her, this is part of the process.”

  Vicky’s head start to move from left to right in erratic, shivery moves. It looks like she’s having a fit. My muscles tense at the thought. Then I remember we lifted the curse. We finally got rid of the fits.

  “I see him,” Vicky says, her head still shaking like crazy. “He looks like an average man, an office manager or something. He’s wearing a dark blue suit with a white shirt underneath and a blue, striped tie. His face is round. He has dark hair streaked with gray, brown eyes and heavy eyebrows. Most of his hair is combed to one side. There’s a disgruntled look on his face, as if someone has just brought him some bad news.”

  “Do you recognize him?” I ask, barely able to look at her with her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

  She stops shaking. “No, I’ve never seen him before.” She relaxes a little. Her hands lie calmly in her lap. “Why would a businessman curse me?”

  “No idea,” I answer. “What about a name? Can you hear it or see it?”

  She lifts her hands and presses her fingers against her temples. “Not yet, but maybe… yes, he’s on the move. He’s stepping into a black car that looks expensive. He drives down a driveway to a set of iron gates that have initials in them.” She tilts her head slightly. “S.B.”

  I rack my brain for a name that matches those initials. Nothing comes up, and the others keep quiet too.

  “He gets out of the car and walks over to a post box. There’s a name on it.”

  I shift in my seat. “What is it? Can you read it?”

  “It’s… Banks. Shelton Banks.” She lowers her hands, blinks and opens her eyes.

  “It’s Shelton Banks,” she repeats.

  I stare at her beautiful face that has confusion written all over it. “The man that killed your grandmother?”

  “We don’t know that for sure. All we know is that he got very angry when my grandmother found a certain book in his library and that she was killed soon after.”

  “So, he killed her,” I conclude again.

  She smirks at me. “Probably.”

  “What else do we know about this Banks guy?” Charlie asks.

  Vicky turns the bottle over and over in her hands. “Mrs. Delaney knew him. She said he always gave her the creeps.”

  “Didn’t he also order the kill on Taylar’s brother?” Kessley interrupts.

  I frown and see my puzzled look reflected on the others’ faces. “No, that was Shelton Banks, the rich businessman Mona is watching.”

  “Right, Shelton Banks,” she says. “The same man Vicky saw a minute ago when she drank the tree sap.”

  I stare at her. “How do you know they’re the same when they have different names?”

  Exasperated, she throws her hands in the air. “What are you talking about? It’s the same name!”

  Maël gently places a hand on Kessley’s arm. “I think the alcohol is getting to your head again, Kessley. We are talking about two different men. Shelton Banks, who is responsible for the death of Taylar’s brother, and Shelton Banks, who may have murdered Vicky’s grandmother.”

  Kessly presses her hands against her temples. “Aaargh!”

  I exchange a quick look with Maël and rise to my feet. “Are you okay?”

  She looks up when I walk over and sit down in the empty chair next to her. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You really don’t know you’re saying the same name twice.”

  “But we’re not,” I say with a comforting smile. “You’re the only one who thinks that.”

  “I─”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I don’t blame you for being confused. You’re so tired from everything that happened since I summoned you that your mind starts to play tricks on you.” I gesture at her head. “And then there’s this drunk thing you’re dealing with. I think you just need some rest.”

  Her gaze shifts from me to Vicky, and then to the other side of the table, where Taylar, Charlie and Gisella are watching with concerned frowns. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you? It’s not some kind of initiation prank?”

  We all shake our heads, and she leans back in her chair with a sigh. “In that case, you’re right, it must be the booze. I’m sorry for interrupting you. Please continue.”

  I stand up. “Are you sure you don’t want to go and rest?”

  “I’d rather stay here. There’s so much I still don’t know about what you’ve all been through.”

  “That’s true.” Grateful for her dedication to our mission, I walk back to my own chair at the head of the table and slide back onto it. “So, where were we?”

  “We were trying to remember everything we know about the man that killed Vicky’s grandmother,” Charlie says, pushing the last of the toast into his mouth.

  “Right. So, we know what Mrs. Delaney told us. She was a friend of Vicky’s grandmother. She said Banks was creepy.”

  “And he has a big library,” Vicky adds.

  “And Quinn!” I suddenly remember. “He had a relationship with your grandmother, didn’t he, Vicky?”

  “I still can’t believe that,” Charlie says. “I mean… I know magic can be crazy, you know, but that story is wild.”

  “Why?” Kessley asks. “Angels can get very old, right? And they have
feelings too, I guess.”

  “They do,” Vicky answers, “but Quinn wasn’t an angel then. He was an old, white man.”

  Kessley’s mouth forms a perfect O. “I see.”

  “We could ask him what he knows about Shelton Banks.” I lift my eyes to the ceiling, as if that makes any difference, and call out. “Quinn? Do you have a moment for us?”

  No answer.

  “Quinn?” I repeat.

  Still nothing. No whoosh to announce his arrival, no bright light, no glimpse of his friendly face.

  Charlie’s fingers tap the table restlessly. “Something’s wrong. We haven’t heard from him or seen him in ages.”

  I swallow the fear that rises in my throat. “They’re probably still working on restoring the balance in Heaven.”

  “No.” Charlie shakes his head. “We fixed that when we sent the souls back to Purgatory, remember? Something else must be wrong. You haven’t received the new set of Cards of Death either. They normally arrive soon after we save a soul.”

  “You think the two have something to do with each other?” I let that idea bounce around my head for a second. Is it possible that the cards are sent from Heaven?

  Charlie gets up and rummages through the cupboards. “I need more food to think.”

  Taylar rests his head in his hands. “I wish Mona was here to make us something.”

  “Hey!” Kessley calls out. “What was wrong with the breakfast I made?”

  “Nothing!” he says hastily, and a blush creeps from his neck to his cheeks. “Nothing at all.”

  Gisella collects the plates. “I think Mona puts some of her magic in her food and drinks. She uses her sparks to take away some of our worries and fears.”

  She hasn’t even uttered the last word when tiny yellow lights whirl between Charlie and the kitchen table.

  “Did I hear my name?” Mona asks, appearing in a shower of sparks.

  I shoot her a big smile. “Yes, we were talking about how much we miss you.”

  “More like your cooking,” Charlie mumbles with a whole cookie in his mouth.