Page 32 of Practically Magic

And then the woman rushes to her van out front. It’s bright purple, and the sunlight glints off the cheerful letters that read: Spirit Sweepers.

“Kat,” Laney whispers, pointing at the back as it races off down the quiet street, nearly hitting a pumpkin display on the corner.

Sleep tight. We fight all sprites.

“Is that an exorcist?” Laney whispers.

I step into the subzero house. It feels like walking into a freezer. “Nonsense. Probably just a ghost hunter.”

Laney’s eyes are as big as dinner plates. “Is that better? Do you think Mayor Croft saw a ghost?”

No, I don’t. Only witches can see ghosts, and the wards make sure that ghosts can’t even fully manifest.

“Oh, that must be Colton’s dad. I’m sure he’ll set us straight,” I say, pointing to the figure by the window. His shoulders are broad, his hair salt-and-pepper. “Excuse me, Mr. Mayor?”

The figure turns. His face is gnarled and grizzled, but it’s not the face that bothers me. It’s the fact that I can see the curtains straight through it.

“Kat,” Laney whispers again.

“Sorry, I guess no one’s home,” I say, gently backing up.

Laney hits my arm. “Kat, is that . . . is that . . . a ghost?”

12

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New post from Cressida Monroe: Warning! Keep your pets inside! I’ve been hearing wolves howling all afternoon.

New comment from Anonymous: There are no wolves in Connecticut! You must be hearing coyotes. Is it a full moon or something?

“You can see him too?” I ask Laney. If Laney is seeing them too, something is wrong.

“Yeah,” she says, sounding nervous and excited at the same time. “Hello.”

But she isn’t looking at the older man by the window. There’s another ghost coming down the stairs.

“Greetings,” says the young man as he glides down to us. He can’t be more than twenty. I try to place his time period, but it’s hard when he’s wearing a white shirt and pants with dress shoes—1800s, maybe? “It’s good to make your acquaintance, Miss . . . ?”

“Laney,” I say since Laney’s jaw is wide open. “I’m Katherine. We were just . . . leaving.” This is bad. This is really bad. I need to call—

I can’t tell my aunts. I can’t tell my parents. And I definitely can’t tell Harry. I have to handle this by myself.

My mom’s spell book should have the answers. I need to get home.

“She’s looking for Colton,” Laney volunteers.

“Colton?” comes another voice. Two ghosts pop out of the wall and float toward us. One is older, a woman, and one is a boy. They’re dressed almost identically. That’s when it dawns on me. The mayor didn’t see an intruder this morning—he saw ghosts!

“You can do much better than Colton, dear,” says the motherly-looking ghost. “Frankly an embarrassment to the Croft name. Our descendant, singing in the rain room as he cleans his behind.”

I did not need to know that. I feel myself blush.

The young ghost nods. “But I must say, that Taylor Shift is catchy.”

“Swift,” Laney and I correct him.

“A pity he didn’t get the height from my side of the family,” the stately-looking ghost by the window says in a deep voice. “Always adding that padding into his shoes to appear taller. Disgraceful.”