“I’d say it’s high praise, coming from the detective.” Abrams secured the hat on top of his head, then stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I should return to my rounds.” With his chin against his chest and his boot scuffing the dirt, he seemed embarrassed, probably realizing he’d spoken out of turn.
“Of course. Have a good night, Abrams.”
What a strange evening.
Inside my shop, I pushed the door closed and hovered near the threshold. Abrams’ unexpected reveal echoed in my mind. Derrick thought I was different, huh? What had I expected? The comment was no “you’re a ravishing beauty” or “you have a stunning intellect,” but it was something. Better than being called a fraud. I smiled as I trudged toward the kettle, a feat that seemed impossible considering my circumstances.
Water sloshed in the pot as I swung it over the grate in the fireplace. A few pieces of kindling and a couple jabs with the iron poker stoked the dying embers to life. The fire crackled, and the scent of smoke wafted in the air.
I slumped into a chair and waited for the water to boil. It had felt like ages since I’d last slept, but even so, my body hummed with leftover energy. Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, I’d find a way to come up with the rest of the money, but for now, a cup of tea liberally laced with my mother’s famous sleeping powder would help to put the entire night behind me. A witch needed her beauty sleep. Unskilled witches needed twice as much. Unskilled witches hounded by thugs and overachieving detectives, well, they needed to be put into a powder-induced coma.
I prepared the tea from memory, dropping a pinch of powder into my cup. Mint leaves followed. Breathing in the fragrant steam, I took a tentative sip that warmed my insides. Waves of heat from the fireplace soothed my aching muscles and dried my damp hair. The potion took effect, and soon, sleep wove its tendrils around my body. My head lolled to the side.
It was as my eyes were closing that I heard a faint rustling sound, like leaves scattering across the beams. The temperature plunged. I shivered.
Something was wrong.
Struggling to stay awake, I peeked through heavy eyelids. A figure moved into my line of vision, but it was too late. The sleeping powder dragged me under and shrouded my final thought in a dreamy fog.
***
I woke to darkness.
The grandfather clock chimed, and I pressed my fingers into my eyelids to relieve my blurred vision. It was freezing! With a shudder, I glanced at the fireplace to find the embers still glowing. It shouldn’t be this cold. My breath expelled in white puffs made visible by a strip of moonlight.
A strange sensation flowed through my body as I remembered the eerie feeling of being watched before falling asleep. Was someone inside the shop? My heart pounded faster when the clock continued to chime. At the twelfth bell, it stopped.
I held my breath. Nothing moved. A strangled laugh caught in my throat. I was being ridiculous. Then, from behind, a bottle dropped from a shelf and rolled across the wooden beams. I froze, too afraid to look.
“Is someone there?” My voice cracked. Fear grew like vines around my ankles, rooting me to the floor. A burning pain sliced through my palm. The tattooed symbols were glowing.
“Help me,” came a soft whisper.
My chest constricted. I turned toward the rasping sound. Unable to blink, I watched a shimmering figure float closer. The woman’s hair flowed around her face as if she were underwater. She wore a ball gown studded with silver beading. I knew that gown. I knew that face. I finally blinked, hoping the specter would vanish, and was horrified yet slightly relieved when she didn’t.
“Ella? Is that you?”
The woman nodded. Her image wavered as she drifted into the shaft of moonlight, almost becoming one with the bright beam.
Her lips parted, and she whispered again, “I need your help.”
Chapter 6
“Open up!”
Vivian’s door vibrated where I pounded my hands against it. Eventually, light appeared at the window, and she arrived rubbing sleep from her eyes. The latch turned with an audible click, and I charged into the parlor, sending Vivian back on her heels.
“What are you doing here? It’s after midnight.” She tightened the belt on her silk robe and stifled a yawn.
I ignored her question and searched the shadows. Had Ella followed me? My muscles burned, and my side ached from running the entire way into town. I hadn’t handled the situation at my shop well. Then again, what was the proper reaction when you came face-to-face with a dead girl? Fainting into a pile on the floor had been a real concern. I might be best friends with a medium, but I’d never actually seen a ghost.
“What are you looking for?”
Pushing through the beaded curtain, I stopped. Vivian bumped into me.
“Not what—who. Over there.”
She stilled as her gaze landed on the ghostly woman dressed in a ball gown. “Is that who I think it is?”
