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Ashworth laughed. “True enough.”
Belle’s mom—Ava—was waiting on the balcony of their expansive home by the time we arrived. Like many of the witch compounds in this particular area, there were multiple generations in residence. Belle’s parents lived in the main house—a long, sixties-style building that had been extended to add a second floor on one half of the building—while her grandparents on her dad’s side lived in a granny flat behind the pool area, and her sister’s family lived in the four-bedroom cottage that backed onto the Mount Ainslie Nature Reserve.
Belle climbed out the minute Ashworth stopped the car and ran up the steps to her mom, wrapping her in the biggest hug. The two of them were peas in a pod—so alike, in fact, that Ava really could have been mistaken for Belle’s older sister.
I walked up the steps and said, “Lovely to see you again, Ava.”
“Don’t you be giving me any of that polite shit,” she growled. “Get over here and give me a hug.”
I did so, grinning like a loon. She’d always been a second mom to me, treating me no different than any of her own. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Belle’s family showing me what a loving relationship could and should be, who knows what sort of emotionally damaged mess I would have been.
She greeted Ashworth and Eli warmly and then said, “Edward’s out in the courtyard, tending to the barbeque. We’d best get in before he starts burning things.”
She led the way into the house. The screams of kids echoed through the wide halls, and I gave Ashworth a mischievous glance. “Sounds like there’re more kids here for you to play dress-up with.”
“You’ll be appreciating my willingness to go the extra yard to entertain the littlies when you have them, lassie.”
“Well, these littlies are into chasey at the moment,” Ava said, “so if you’re going to play with the lads, best borrow some running shoes.”
Eli laughed. “Meaning my man will definitely sleep well tonight.”
We wound our way through the house—it might have been extended but it had retained its higgledy-piggledy nature—then walked through the dine-in kitchen with its sixties-style cupboards and colors out into the patio area. Everyone was there—Belle’s sister Alison, her husband Dylan, and their kids Eddie and Beth; Belle’s grandparents on her dad’s side; and even her brother, Josh, who last we’d heard was working for the London PSI Unit—the biggest psi center in the world. While both he and Alison were strong telepaths, Josh’s secondary talent was energy medicine—a rare and much sought-after ability that could heal using empathic, etheric, astral, mental, or spiritual energy.
We were introduced to Josh’s partner, Jenny, who had two young kids the same age as Eddie—and then got down to the serious business of eating and catching up with what everyone had been doing. Needless to say, Belle also got the second degree from her grandparents over her current reluctance to permanently snare her man. Time was a-wasting, and they needed more grandkiddies, apparently.
It was close to ten when I felt the play of ghostly fingers down the length of my arm. Tension stirred through me, part of which seemed to be a transference from the ghost itself.
Belle, I said, not wanting to draw attention by speaking out loud and perhaps scaring away the apparition, is there a spirit standing behind my left shoulder?
Belle was sitting between her mom and sister but leaned past the latter on the pretext of grabbing some cheese. Not that I can see.
The caress came again, this time tugging lightly at my fingers. I looked around and, for the briefest of seconds, the air shimmered, revealing a humanoid form. It was definitely a spirit, so why wasn’t Belle seeing her? She was the spirit talker, not me.
Maybe I’m not meant to, she said.
I frowned. Meaning what?
There are ghosts—and spirits—with the capacity to conceal their presence from spirit talkers. That’s obviously what’s happening here.
Why would she conceal her presence if she wants me to follow her?
I don’t know. She paused. You want me to try and talk to her?
Do you think it’ll work?
The only way we’re going to find out is to try.
My spirit friend once again tugged at my hand. Her fingers were warm and almost real against mine, the touch filled with a sense of urgency. I don’t think we dare waste the time right now. Something is happening, and she needs me to follow.
Well, you’re not fucking going alone. Not with a sorcerer out there in the wild. For all we know, this could be some sort of trap.
It’s not.
Why I was so sure of that, I couldn’t say, other than the fact that I’d felt no malice or evil or anything that vaguely resembled deceit in that insubstantial touch. In fact, it had felt oddly... familiar?
Which was decidedly weird.
Belle waved her hands to catch everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gents, we have a situation. It would appear Lizzie’s friendly ghost has reappeared and once again wants us to follow her.”
