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I nibbled my lip, staring at the abstract art on the wall that, for the life of me, I couldn’t make out—was it a tree, bush…maybe a person. “I hope not. Is that a good answer?”
“No. It isn’t,” he grumbled, and after a short pause, he continued, “But you’re right—it doesn’t sound like anyone there has a motive to kill someone they loved and respected.”
A squeal suddenly erupted before Zach’s curse echoed in the phone followed by a loud scuffle. Then Caley snapped, “What are you doing? A killer could be there. Oh, my God, Tess, get your ass home—”
I clicked the end button and powered off my phone. Not to say I didn’t want to talk to Caley, I did miss her, but the conversation would be long and annoying. I would have to defend my reasons for staying in White Castle, which I doubted she’d understand. Caley had never been one to see my side of things. She would focus on the possible danger, and nothing else. Zach would calm her down, which he seemed to have mastered since they started dating. Besides, I had another important conversation to deal with, and Caley would be relentless with non-stop calling until I answered.
I shoved my cell phone back into my pocket and hurried through the doorway into the sitting room. First, I spotted the large bookshelf at the back of the room, then I wrinkled my nose at the scent of mothballs in the air. But I instantly shoved away the grossness, because the sight of the books made me wonder if this wouldn’t be so hard after all.
Glancing at Gret
chen, who sat in one of the wingback wooden chairs in the corner of the room, I gestured toward the books. She shook her head with flat eyes, indicating nothing came that easily.
Figures!
On a huff, I strode forward and dropped onto the hard-as-rock antique couch beneath the large window. I crossed my legs and watched as Wayde left his place by the oak desk and approached the bookshelf. He clearly knew what he wanted to find since he didn’t hesitate in taking a book off the shelf.
Holding onto a brown leather book, he turned to me with the same dark twinkle in his eyes. He opened the cover and flipped a few pages. After he found whatever he looked for, his eyes rose to mine again, and then he handed me the book and pointed to a picture of a woman. “Her.”
I glanced at the page and stared at a young woman, who looked around my age of twenty-five, and by her pretty lace dress and cloche hat, appeared to be from the 1920s. Her hair was blonde, even though I only took guesses since the picture was black and white. She didn’t smile in the photo, and in fact, looked grumpy as hell with deep frown lines around her mouth. When staring at the picture got me nowhere, I finally looked up at Wayde. “Who is this, and why should I care?”
“She’s you.”
I couldn’t even find it within myself to roll my eyes. If he started talking about reincarnation, I would flatten him. I might believe in witchcraft and demons. I also had no doubt this world had many more surprises. But I wouldn’t go any deeper than I’d already gone. I had enough on my plate without filling my brain with more crazy-ass knowledge. “This is not me.”
“Not you,” Wayde said with slow precision. “But that is Nettie Glasgow. Her talents matched your own.”
I blinked, processed, and blinked again.
Could that be true?
Looking at the picture again, I studied Nettie. After meeting Dane, it had been a relief to meet someone who had supernatural gifts. It did make me feel not as alone in the world, even if I wanted to castrate Dane. But hearing that someone held the exact gifts I did…Yeah, it warmed that piece of detachment I felt from others. “Nettie had the same abilities I do?”
“She did,” Wayde replied.
While that interested me, I wasn’t clear on how this could help me. Wayde had stated that this knowledge would be how I’d go into the Netherworld, or implied it. “And this matters because…?”
Lifting my gaze, I discovered his dark smile. “Luckily for you, she wasn’t as closed off to her abilities as you are. Yes, you both hold the same gifts, but she was far more educated.”
I snorted at the once again stab. Did he—as well as Dane, since he had done the same thing to me in Memphis—need to remind me I sucked at this? I didn’t need the reminder. I’d accepted that I didn’t know much about the mystical world with the whole demon event.
Hell, I preferred it that way. Until Kipp, I didn’t want to help ghosts for that very reason. I don’t do scary. I don’t want to learn about the freaky things that go bump in the night. If I had known helping ghosts would’ve led to a demon, not even Kipp and his sexy ways could have persuaded me to get involved.
I simply wanted to help ghosts cross over, that’s it, that’s all. Did I even care to know about Nettie and how much better she was at this ghost business than me?
Turning to Gretchen, who sat silent in her chair, I noticed her impassive expression. Indication enough this was my life, and to find any sane level of normalcy again, I needed to suck it up and get every piece of knowledge I could.
With that crappy realization, I looked at Wayde as he towered over me. “Again, interesting, but how will this help me?”
Wayde smiled. It didn’t bring warmth to his face. “Nettie studied her craft and the knowledge you need, she obtained. Everything you need to know about your gifts and what you can do, the history of Nettie can answer.”
I blinked, totally not expecting that. Perhaps I thought hearing of Nettie would bring me to a greater awareness of mystical things. But no, I did not expect him to imply that Nettie held all the answers. “What will her history show me?” He shifted on his feet, folding his arms. “That, in regard to Netherworld, you don’t need witchcraft. You simply need to realize the powers you hold and discover what you can do with them.”
I glanced sideways at Gretchen and she watched Wayde with a curious look before she shrugged at me. I nodded at her in agreement. This was confusing. Then I looked at Wayde. “I didn’t realize I could do more with my powers than I’m already doing.”
“Which confirms what I have already told you.” He frowned, shaking his head in frustration. “If you investigated more, kept your eyes open to the world around you, and welcomed the gifts you’ve been given, you’d be more aware than you are.”
While a nasty retort of, so and your point is, hung on my tongue, I couldn’t deny truth behind his words. Dane and Gretchen had taught me more in the days I’d known them than I had figured out on my own in the years since the car accident that caused my gifts.
