by Lisa Edmonds
“I got a little bit of information from Ashley. I’m not sure how helpful it will be, but I think I know who shot her and took Aden.”
“Ashley’s coherent enough to talk?”
He waggled his hand. “Kinda off and on. She still mostly just screams. I’m glad I’m dead or I’d have one hell of a headache.”
The bathroom door opened and Sean stepped out. “Sorry,” Malcolm said.
Sean crossed his arms. “Let’s hear your report. Alice needs her sleep.”
“Sleep. Right.” Malcolm’s tone was dry. “Anyway, I can’t get much from her verbally, but sometimes I can catch little glimpses of memories or thoughts when I touch another ghost. I tried to do that for most of the day and didn’t get much that would help us. Mostly what she’s seeing is a close-up of the barrel of a gun pointed right at her face and then a big boom.”
Sean muttered an expletive.
“Yeah, it sucks,” Malcolm said shortly. “Imagine watching that on repeat. Anyway, I finally saw a little bit more of the memory and I recognized the guy who pulled the trigger. His name is Tony Larson. Back when I was alive, he was muscle for Bell. I don’t know what he does now, but he’s who killed Ashley and presumably took Aden.”
I wondered if we could tip off the cops about Tony in regard to Ashley’s murder. That would be tricky, since our only evidence was a ghost’s fragmented memory as seen by another ghost.
I sighed. “Did you see anything else that might help us?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever will. She’s basically a wraith at this point. I think she’s just hanging on to try and let someone know what happened to her. Have you found out anything from your sources? Did you hear back yet from Monroe?”
“I did hear from Monroe. I also heard from Jana.”
His mouth fell open. “What?”
I told Malcolm about Jana’s call and Monroe’s news that Garrett had gotten himself taken prisoner in a botched exchange and that I had been warned to back off trying to get to Aden.
Malcolm flitted around the room in fury. “That stupid ass,” he fumed. “And Monroe telling you to let it go, like Aden’s life doesn’t mean anything.”
“Not that it doesn’t mean anything—just that it means less than all the lives that will be lost if Murphy wins the takeover. Monroe is being practical.” I rubbed my face. “I’m not giving up on Aden.”
“I’d like us to send Ashley on,” Malcolm said, surprising me. “She’s tormented. We need to convince her somehow that we’ll get justice for her and help her cross over. I just wish there was a better and easier way to do that than having you discorporate her. She’s been through enough already.”
I thought about it. “You know, Carly might be able to help with that. I’m pretty sure she’s a medium.” I glanced at the clock. “I hate to call her so late, but it might be worth asking. If she says that’s not one of her gifts, I can take care of it myself.”
Sean’s brow furrowed. “You need sleep, Alice.”
“I will sleep,” I promised. “Just as soon as Ashley is no longer suffering.”
He closed his eyes and appeared to count to ten.
“I know,” Malcolm said sympathetically. “But Alice is our burden to bear.”
“Hey, I’m nobody’s burden,” I protested.
“You are, but that’s okay,” Malcolm reassured me. “We wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Despite the late hour, Carly answered her phone with “How can I help?”
I hadn’t gotten very far into my description of Ashley’s situation before she cut me off and asked where she needed to meet us, and then, to my surprise, asked if Nan would be willing to join us.
Sean called Nan, who immediately agreed and arrived at his house only twenty minutes later. The three of us drove out to the crime scene to meet Carly. She arrived at our rendezvous point a few minutes after we did.
Ashley had been killed on a utility service road that ran behind a manufacturing plant. The plant was closed for the night. The area was deserted and dimly lit, so our activities would go unnoticed. We parked a little way up the road and walked the last hundred yards on foot.
“I thought when I was at your house earlier that you knew an earth-bound spirit who needed my help,” Carly said as we walked. “I assumed it was the spirit who was present in your home, but clearly that’s not the case as he’s quite comfortable being here with you.” She shivered. “I can feel and hear her already, poor thing. What can you tell me about her and how she died? You have my word I won’t share that information with anyone else—it’s only so I know how best to help her find her way.”
I gave Carly the short version of what we’d pieced together about Ashley’s role in giving Aden a ride and how she’d been shot, probably to eliminate a witness to his kidnapping.
“We don’t know all the details of how she got involved or what she thought she was getting into,” I added. “My ghost saw a glimpse of her memory of her murder and recognized the person who pulled the trigger, so I’m hopeful we can use that information to bring him to justice.”
“That may help.” Carly winced. “Poor girl. Now that’s a soul in torment if I’ve ever felt and heard one.”
Like most mages, I could usually sense a spirit’s presence, though I couldn’t always hear or interact with them. I couldn’t hear Ashley, which I had to look at as a blessing, but I sensed her nearby. Her misery was a cold and distinctly unpleasant feeling on the edge of my awareness.
There wasn’t much left at the scene. The crime scene tape had been removed, along with the burned-out shell of Ashley’s car. All that remained was a blackened section of pavement where the car had been and a clean area next to it where someone, probably the fire department, had washed away the blood.
I’d been around death for most of my life, thanks to my grandfather, and then my chosen profession. My grandfather murdered my parents by burning them alive when I was eight, after he discovered they intended to take me and flee. I’d caused deaths with my magic from when I was six years old until I escaped at age twenty-four. As a mage private investigator, I’d investigated murders, interacted with a variety of spirits, and lost my mentor, Mark Dunlap, when he was murdered by a blood mage.
Despite everything I’d been through, I didn’t fear death—not as such—but there were aspects of it I did fear, like ending up like Ashley, caught in an endless loop of suffering. Maybe that was part of the reason I found her condition so unsettling, or maybe it was because Bell’s people had murdered her and I identified all too well with being the victim of a cabal. Maybe it was the tragedy of her short life as she went from college student to addict, and then died horribly on this empty stretch of road. Maybe it was all of the above.
Sean squeezed my hand. He could always tell when things got dark in my head. I drew on his strength and calm as I’d done at the birthday brunch and some of the darkness melted away. Nan brushed my fingers with hers as well, offering support and her own reassurance.
Malcolm, who’d been floating along beside us as we walked, left my side and joined Carly. “Can you hear me?” he asked tentatively.
She smiled. “Of course I can. I wanted to meet you earlier at Alice’s house, but I wasn’t sure I was supposed to know you were there.”
“You weren’t, but only because we’re cautious about who knows about me. I’m Malcolm.”
“Hi, Malcolm.” Carly stopped and faced him. “You’re a very powerful spirit. Tied to Alice, I think, but the bond goes deeper than that. A true friendship—no, a kinship, like a brother and sister.”
“Which one of us is the older sibling in this metaphor?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “You.”
I smirked. “Hear that, little bro? You have to do what I say now.”
“Yeah, okay, big sis.” Malcolm rolled his eyes. “I guess this means I have to steal your underwear and show it to all the kids at school.”
“Kids, don’t
make me separate you,” Nan scolded us.
“I’m kidding,” Malcolm said. “Nobody wants to see Alice’s totally not-sexy Spider-Man underwear.”
Carly sighed. “When I said that about being siblings, I was assuming you were both mature enough to take that comment in the serious way in which it was intended.”
Malcolm snickered.
“Well, now you know better,” Nan said, giving us both a look—or rather, she gave me a look and frowned in the general area where Malcolm was hovering. “What can I do to help, Carly?”
“I’d like your permission to access your power when I try to speak to Ashley. I think it will help me reach her.”
Nan looked hesitant. “Other than a few spells and rituals I did with my grandmother, I really don’t know how to use any abilities I might have.”
“You won’t have to do anything but allow me to draw on your power. I’m not just drawing on your energy as a hereditary witch; you also have a calming effect on others in your pack, and Ashley is going to need all the calm she can get if this is going to work.”
“Can I help?” Sean asked, surprising me. “I’m not any kind of witch, hereditary or otherwise, but part of an alpha’s magic is the ability to provide calm and comfort to others. Could you also draw from me through my bond with Nan?”
Carly smiled at him. “I think I can, and thank you very much for offering. We might be able to help this girl after all. Miss Nan, why don’t you put your hand on my right shoulder? Sean, put yours on my left.”
They did as she asked. Nan seemed hesitant, perhaps because she wasn’t sure she’d be of any help, but Sean was entirely at ease allowing Carly to draw on his power.
Carly closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. I sensed a rise of the same magic and parchment scent I’d noticed when she invoked the tracking spell. Nan and Sean closed their eyes. Shifter magic rose, but not the hot, fiery magic I was used to. This was soft, like morning sunshine.
Even without my Second Sight, I could see the change in Carly’s aura. Drawing on the wolves’ calm made her energy feel like a warm blanket.
She opened her eyes and turned to Malcolm. “Please introduce me to Ashley, as best you can. Tell her I’m here to help and listen to her.”
“Okay, here goes.” Malcolm floated over to the clean area, where presumably Ashley had died. “Ashley, stop screaming,” he said firmly. “No one is going to hurt you. This is Carly. She’s here to listen and help you.”
Something cold rushed past me, as if Ashley’s spirit had responded to Malcolm’s words and flown immediately to Carly’s side.
Goosebumps appeared on the witch’s arms. Her head tilted, as if she was listening.
Malcolm zipped to my side and touched my arm. Ashley is talking to Carly, sort of, he said in my head. It’s kind of jumbled up, but what I’m hearing is that Aden told her he was going to get a job and if she gave him a ride, he’d split his first paycheck with her. She didn’t know who she was meeting or she never would have brought him here. He grimaced. She blames herself. And now she’s screaming again. He let go of my arm.
“It was not your fault,” Carly said firmly. “You couldn’t have known. Aden didn’t understand what he was doing. This was not your fault. Ashley, this was not your fault.”
I couldn’t hear Ashley, but the cold feeling intensified. Malcolm winced. “She doesn’t believe Carly. She’s worried about Aden. She says he’s scared and alone.”
“Tell her that Aden is with his mom. Jana has him,” I said.
Something cold whipped across my face, like the ghost had flown over to me. “Jana has Aden,” I repeated for Ashley’s benefit. “Aden is with his mom. He’s not alone.” All true, as far as it went.
The cold feeling faded. Carly sighed. “She’s believes you, but she’s still seeing her own death on an endless loop and it’s making it difficult for me to get through to her. I need help to persuade her to move on.”
“Help from whom?” I asked.
She smiled. “A couple of archangels.”
I blinked. “Okay.”
Carly turned and Nan and Sean took their hands from her shoulders. “Sometimes I can guide a spirit to the veil myself, but when their death was particularly traumatic or there’s something powerful holding them here, like unfinished business, it takes someone stronger to persuade them to cross over.”
I cleared my throat. “Well, no one’s stronger than an archangel.”
The situation had become a little surreal. I had no doubt Carly believed what she said, and I certainly didn’t not believe, but I had a difficult time processing it.
“Actually, there are beings stronger than archangels, but that’s a conversation for another day.” Carly turned to Nan and Sean. “Thank you for your help. Had Ashley’s death been less terrible, I’m sure we could have guided her to the veil and through it.”
“It was worth a try. Now you can call in the big guns,” Nan said. “We’ll keep a respectful distance.”
“Stand wherever you are comfortable. Only Ashley, Malcolm, and I will be able to see and hear the archangels Suriel and Zlar,” Carly told us.
Malcolm flitted nervously. “They don’t need to see me, though, right?”
Carly smiled. “You have nothing to fear from them, Malcolm.”
He avoided my eyes. “Umm, I might.”
“You can jump to the house, behind the wards,” I told him. “But I’m not sure wards mean a whole lot to archangels if you’ve somehow managed to get crossways with one.”
Carly reached out, and to my surprise, put her hand right on Malcolm’s arm. “Whatever you’re worried about, put it aside. Suriel doesn’t come to pass judgment on anyone, living or deceased.”
“Okay,” Malcolm said, sounding not at all convinced. He floated back to my side, radiating unease.
Carly turned away from us. She took three deep breaths and then spoke. “I call upon Archangel Suriel for his help and guidance to get Ashley ready to go to the spirit plane.”
She’d said the rest of us wouldn’t be able to see or hear the archangels, but since I had an affinity for spirits and could see afterlife magic I expected to sense Suriel’s entrance.
I braced myself for a blast of power or for the earth to tremble, as befitting the arrival of an archangel. Instead I felt a surge of what I could only describe as grace. The air tasted sweet on my tongue.
Carly smiled at someone or something I could sense but not see. “Suriel, thank you for coming to counsel Ashley Brown.”
I glanced to my left. Malcolm was transfixed.
No one spoke for a long time—or at least, no one I could hear. Finally, Malcolm roused himself enough to touch my arm. He’s telling Ashley she’s not at fault for what happened to Aden and the boy will be saved. He hesitated, as if he’d started to say something then thought better of it. Finally, he added, She’s followed her path on this plane to its end and it’s time for her to be at peace. Ashley said she’ll move on.
What does he look like? I couldn’t help but ask.
His face was full of wonder. Like he’s made of light. Alice…he has wings. Really, really big wings.
Carly spoke, startling me. “I call upon Archangel Zlar to guide Ashley to the spirit plane.”
The sensation of peace intensified, but only for a few moments. When it faded, Malcolm sighed. She took the second archangel’s hand and they disappeared. She’s gone.
“Thank you, Zlar,” Carly murmured. “Thank you for guiding her to peace and rest.”
Suddenly, I felt a spike of fear from my ghost. Malcolm? I asked.
No response. He was frozen, his eyes wide. He had a faraway look, as if someone was speaking in his head.
I opened the link between us and caught the echo of a voice that sounded as if it was made of many voices all speaking as one. Then it was gone and the feeling of grace faded.
Carly turned around to face us. “Ashley is at peace now.” Her gaze went to Malcolm. “And you have some peace as we
ll, I think.”
Malcolm blinked several times. The usually glib ghost seemed at a loss for words. Given he’d just been addressed by an archangel, I couldn’t say I blamed him.
Carly yawned. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready to call it a night.”
“Was this a typical day for you?” I asked. “Break a hex, counsel spirits, talk to a couple of archangels?”
“Typical day,” she agreed, but she was smiling. “It’s the life I was born for. Shall we go?”
We headed for our cars. Malcolm floated along beside me, saying nothing. Sean still had my hand in his. Nan looked thoughtful.
When we got to the cars, Carly opened the driver’s side door and reached into her purse. “One last thing before we go.” She withdrew a small velvet bag. “I have a gift for you.”
Generally speaking, I avoided accepting gifts from anyone. Like my aversion to physical contact, it was a result of years trapped in Moses’s cabal, where every gift—no matter how seemingly small, well-meaning, or kind—came with many strings attached. Even after I left the cabal, gifts seemed to carry hidden price tags. But I knew better than to refuse a gift from a witch like Carly.
She took out an amulet made of stone. The amulet was carved in the shape of a heart formed by the heads of two wolves with their noses touching in the center. On the back, our names were etched, one on each side. Oddly, it seemed to be deeply scored down the middle and each side had a small hole.
“Does this gift have anything to do with the funny feeling you got this afternoon when you touched our hands?” I asked.
“It has everything to do with that. The funny feeling told me I needed to touch you. The vision I got said I needed to make this for you and you’d call me tonight so I could give it to you.”
Well, that was a bit spooky. “What does it do?”
“The charm is called My Beloved. It will allow each of you to find or summon the other, no matter how far apart you are. My vision told me you would need it very soon.”
A lead weight of worry landed in my stomach and stayed there. “How do we invoke it?”
