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Five figures appeared in the archway to the parlor, and I had to sit down. So, I did. I just slunk right down to the floor where I had been standing and stared, my heart pounding and my palms sweating.
Deep breaths, Sky. You’re fine. You’re okay.
Dev smiled wider and gestured to the newcomers. “Team, I’d like for you all to officially meet my sister, Wren,”—he indicated to a gorgeous woman with long, silky twists, wearing a white, off-the-shoulder dress—“her guy, Findley,”—he pointed to a handsome man with perfectly styled hair and dark Irish good looks—“my cousin, Gunnie,”—a beautiful woman wearing a bustier and a mini-skirt waved, her black-and-purple braids shifting—“and Desmond.” A young man in full-on vintage soldier attire gave us a little bow.
“You all know Burke.” Our historian smiled and moved closer to Gunnie—or Reagan as Hanlen knew her—putting his arm around her shoulders. He still had his surfer-boy good looks, made even hotter by the glasses he always wore. Even in death, apparently. I mentally shook my head. I still couldn’t believe that we’d lost him to a serial killer. And Ireallycouldn’t believe that I was seeing him again now—and that I wouldn’t be able to see him again after this investigation.
Any of them.
“The gang isreallyall here,” Hanlen said, and everybody laughed—even the ghosts.
Ghosts.Did I honestly just think that? But what else could I call them? I knew I wasn’t dreaming. I knew that this was the anticipated result of the hypnosis and the spells that Dev and Birdie did, but I couldn’t completely wrap my head around it.
Holy shit.
I opened my eyes wide, took a deep breath, and glanced over at Paxton. He awkwardly raised an arm in greeting to the ghost crew, a look of absolute shock on his face as he palmed the back of his neck with his other hand.
“Do you have any information for us?” Dev asked, his question directed toward the newest arrivals. Would I hear them if they talked? Dev said we might be able to. I knew that Dakota and Lark could hear them in their heads, and Dev could always hear them as well as he could hear us. I guessed we’d find out.
“It’s been a little quieter,” Desmond said, and I peeked at Paxton, watching him sink to the floor just as I had earlier. I was sure this was a bit hard for him, too. He put faith in it way more than I did—pun intended—but it still went against some of the things he had been raised to believe. “I only counted four presences here last night. The others we saw early on in the investigation have been scarce.”
“I wanted to do some more digging for you, Sky, but it’s been hard to get Seiko alone,” Wren said and then looked at me. Her eyes were gorgeous—like faded dollar bills.
“That asshole, Lance, is always with her,” Findley added and pulled Wren to him, kissing the top of her head. Something shifted in me at seeing them together, still so very much in love. I looked at Pax again and felt my chest warm. It was much too soon for words like that, but I did care about him.
“And Moloch is here. Always here,” Gunnie said quietly. From what I’d gathered from both Hanlen and Dev, Reagan was always a bit quiet. Even in life, despite her outward appearance suggesting anything but. They’d said she was always a bit of an enigma that way, and I respected the hell out of that. Then what she’d said registered.
“Mol—?” I started.
“Don’t!” Pax barked as he caught my gaze with his. “Don’t voice its name in the land of the living. It gives it strength. You only do that if you’re ready to provoke it and send it back to Hell.”
Most everyone nodded or shook their heads, though the rest of the team members who weren’t used to this kind of thing looked about as shell-shocked as Pax did and I felt. When my gaze found Dev, I saw the look of shock and forced acceptance on his face, and my stomach bottomed out.
He nodded solemnly. “So, you were able to uncover a name,” he said.
“Idid,” Burke said, and Gunnie moved closer to him as if seeking comfort. “Moloch is traditionally a Canaanite god of child sacrifice. He appears most often as a towering figure with the head of a bull and flaming hands, said to bestow incredible blessings on the devout in exchange for those sacrifices. The problem is . . . I don’t know if this is actually that deity, or if this is a demon or king of Hell masquerading as a pagan god. SinceMolochis derived from the Hebrew wordmlk,which usually translates to melek or king, it could very well be the latter. But even that’s not good.”
“God help us,” Pax murmured and crossed himself.
“Okay,” Dev said. “I’m extra glad that Lark and I took some time to put more wards and shields and protections on the estate, and that we gave you all additional weapons by allowing you to converse with those who can see this thing, even if he doesn’t allowusto. We’ll have at least one dearly departed assigned to each group so they’re there if needed.” He looked around at the group.
He checked his watch, and several of us did the same. “Let’s do another equipment check. Make sure all the batteries are fully charged and that everybody has spares. Tonight, more than ever, let’s try to stay in touch. We only have two investigating groups, so that should be a little easier. Pick someone to be your point person, and let’s do a status check every hour if possible. Doesn’t have to be on camera if you can’t work it in. Just make it a priority.”
Just as we all moved to do that, and the ghost crew disappeared again—yes, just . . . disappeared. Poof. Gone—Birdie walked into the room. I looked up when I caught the movement and took in her face. She looked a bit pale. I got up and walked to her.
“Hey,” I said, catching her eye. “Are you okay?”
She met my gaze, but it seemed to take her a minute for my words to register, as if she were deep in thought. “Huh?” She shook her head. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit out of sorts.”
Somethingwas going on. “Is it anything we need to be concerned with? You’re with Pax, Aaron, and me tonight.”
“No, no. It’s just some personal stuff. I’ll shove it all down and be all business in a few. Promise.” She flashed me a grin, but it looked a bit forced. Nothing like her usual easy, genuine, and utterly warm smiles.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
She pulled me in for a hug and said, “I know. Thank you.” She leaned back and looked at me again, keeping her hands on my biceps. “I’m okay. Really.” She winked and then walked away. I watched her head over to where Turner sat behind the monitors. I swore I heard her say something to him about a colt—a horse? the gun?—but it made no sense, so I just shrugged it off and got back to work.
* * *
