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Son of a bitch.
Chapter 25
Dev
“That’s a wrap, guys,” I said into the walkie. Everybody chimed in that they understood and went about their tasks for the end of the night, making sure that everything was ready for tomorrow. We’d had a great investigation. Lark, Hanlen, and I had contacted The Colonel, Dakota had gotten indisputable evidence that our lady in the broomstick skirt and the head scarves was indeed Chloe Aillet, and without much trying, Padre and Sky had recorded additional EVP evidence of our woman in white, Myrtle Arbor. We’d had no interaction with the child ghost—I didn’t think there was actually one here, honestly.
We had some additional research to do and a ton of video evidence to review—things we’d caught on the SLS camera when it picked up and mapped anomalies, making anything that we couldn’t see with the naked eye appear as a stick figure on the recording, and some variances in the thermal camera footage, not to mention our static night-vision cameras—but all in all, it had been a great night.
I saw Lark walk into the room, wrapping a cable around her hand and elbow to loop it. “Good one tonight, huh?” she asked.
“It absolutely was. So, I have a question.”
“Shoot,” she said and set her equipment in the box before turning to me.
“You’ve spoken with Gunnie before and know who she is, but do you know what she looks like?”
“Mmm, you know what? I don’t think I do. I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten a psychic picture of her when she’s reached out.”
“The woman you saw earlier during our spirit box session? That was my cousin.”
“The hottie with the purple braids?”
I smiled. “That would be her.”
“Wow. So why was the soldier talking about her? Or wasn’t he? You pulled me out and were deep in conversation with Hanlen before I could ask how the whole spirit box session went and see whether anything made sense with the communication.”
“As you’re aware, she’s been having some trouble reaching out. We’re not sure why. You couldn’t hear her as clearly as you had before—or as you do with others—and she hasn’t come to me at all lately. And while I saw her tonight, she couldn’t talk to me. She indicated that it all started when Hanlen came to town.”
“Hanlen?” Lark asked. “Why would that be?”
I sighed and cracked my neck. “I wish I knew. But do you remember the other night at Lafitte’s when Hanlen briefly mentioned the best friend she’d lost and said that’s why she left the city a decade ago?”
“Now that you mention it, actually, yeah, I do. Her sorrow was palpable.”
“Well, that best friend . . . it was my cousin. Gunnie to me, Reagan—or rather, Ray—to Hanlen. Seems we have yet another connection.”
“Wow, that’s wild,” Lark said and took a seat on the nearest chair. “Did you tell Hanlen that she was here tonight?”
“Yeah, I did.” I took a seat on the couch opposite her. “She was upset, as expected. It’s like ripping open an old wound without anesthetic. But she said she would be okay. And it sort of forced her to believe, you know? So maybe that’s a good thing. I dunno. I’m hopeful that maybe she’ll let me do the spell that will allow her to see and talk to Gunnie temporarily. But . . .” I said and trailed off.
“But what?” Lark asked.
“I think we need to try and speak to her first. Gunnie, I mean. Hanlen gave me her necklace to use as a trigger object. I figured she’d be fine with the protections you and I put on the place. The veve used to be my cousin’s, and it’s full of magic—both residual and departed soul magick. I was wondering if you’d be willing to add your power to mine to see if we can break through whatever is going on. I have a feeling it might be backfired intention. That the protective magic on the necklace is protecting Hanlen—and in a way, me—from something it perceives as danger.”
Lark reached out and put her hand over mine where it rested on my knee. “Of course, Dev. Absolutely. Let’s do it.”
We set our intentions and settled in, facing each other over a lit candle. I held the veve, while Lark grasped the chain, and we called upon my cousin.
She flickered into existence in the corner. I looked up at her and smiled, and she returned the expression.
“Hey, Gun,” I said. “Think you can try talking to us again with Lark here?” Her lips moved but I still didn’t hear anything. When I looked at Lark, I saw her concentrating, her eyes closed.
“She . . .” Lark started. “She’s here.”
“Yeah, she is. She’s standing right over your shoulder, but I still can’t hear her.”
“I can,” Lark said, “but it’s still kind of muffled. A little better, but definitely not super clear. Um . . . she said . . . she said she thinks we need to do an illumination spell. Something about the protection ward on the veve having backfired a bit, just like you said.”
