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Thank God for Johanna Megill.
My sister doesn’t even hesitate. She doesn’t ask questions. If she thinks I’m having some kind of mental health crisis—or if I’m pulling a Halloween prank a week early—she keeps those thoughts to herself. Sure, maybe she’s doing that because I got her in the middle of her first period and she had to get me off the phone, but she promises to meet up with me tonight after we both get out of work.
I double-check my schedule. I swear, if it said that I was working with Jake today, I would’ve called out. I would’ve been able to handle him if it was just a weird dream last night, but if this is real… ifSammaelis real… there’s no way I have the mental power to deal with his puppy dog eyes when I’m pretty sure I’m still losing my damn mind.
I knew I was working from ten to six which is why my sister said to expect her around six-thirty. Looking at my screen, I see that Moira’s off. So is Jake today. Victoria is the lead library tech, with two of the new girls working the morning and afternoon shifts.
That’s fine. Besides, if I used yesterday’s illness as an excuse to call out today, I’d just sit in my house, staring in every corner, wondering if there’s an attractive monster watching my every move.
He is, isn’t he? If I admit that he really found a way to visit me in my dreams, then he’s gotta be here somewhere, waiting to see if I picked up on his most recent hint.
There’s been plenty, I have to admit. All those times I swore there was someone lurking just out of sight. The way the book constantly followed me. Little things, like my slippers being moved or how my remote fell off the couch, followed by my front door flying open yesterday… what if the demon ghost was responsible for all of it?
That’s all I’m thinking about as I’m sleep-walking through my shift. About halfway through, it suddenly hits me that the monster mentioned that he visited the library to steal the book back for me. Is he here now, I wonder. Did he follow me to work?
If he did, he doesn’t give any sign that he’s here. Even when I give in and whisper, “Sammael,” out loud, the only thing that happens is that a nearby patron glances up from their book and shushes me.
It’s a relief when my shift’s finally over and I get to go home. I drove today because the idea of walking home at night in late October with a freakingghostat my back had me even more spooked. Besides, I wanted to be inside, waiting for Johanna, when she gets to my house.
At six-thirty on the dot, Johanna swans through the door, carrying a pizza box with another, longer box stacked on top of it. It’s not her style to knock, and knowing she was coming, I purposely left the door unlocked, though she has a key to my place.
I’m sitting on my couch, bare feet nervously tapping the hardwood floor as I stare at the spellbook. When I came home earlier, I found that it had moved again. The book was closed, waiting for me on the coffee table I got for twenty bucks from Facebook Marketplace. It has divots in the wood and it lists to one side, but I usually keep it around so I have somewhere to put my drink when I’m watching a movie.
Tonight, it’s holding the spellbook—and, later, the two boxes Johanna brought with her.
“Mark’s watching the twins,” she announces as she flips open the first box, grabbing a slice of pizza. “I told my husband we had girl stuff to take care of and he decided to take them to Fright Fest before it gets too crowded. I can stay as long as you need me, okay? But, before we get into the ghost stuff, eat. You look pale as hell, Hope.”
I’m usually pale, but I appreciate the concern. Taking a slice of my own, I work to get it down without my nervous belly getting in the way. After taking a bite, I jerk my chin at the second box. “Please tell me you didn’t bring a Ouija board with you.”
“Why not? You said you were haunted, right? I figure… if you are, maybe we can call the other side and tell them to leave you the fuck alone.”
“You don’t believe in any of that paranormal stuff.”
“No, but you do. And if this is what I have to do to support my baby sister, I’ll do it.”
See? That’s exactly why I called Johanna in the first place. I don’t know anyone else who would ship her kids off with her husband just so she can bring me pizza and play into my delusions like this. Sure, if it turns out Iamnuts, she’ll do anything to get me the help I need… but, first, she’s going to do this.
We might as well get started.
Well, once we finish polishing off half the pizza…
As she sets up the Ouija board and the planchette on the coffee table, she nods at theGrimoire du Sombra. “Is that the book you think is following you?”
Itisfollowing me. “Yes.”
“Good. Let’s leave it there. Maybe it’ll help when we call on your ghost.”
It’s worth a shot. Dropping to my knees on the other side of the coffee table, I wait until Jo gives me a signal, then follow her lead, laying my fingers on the plastic planchette.
My fingers zap the instant they touch it.
Cursing under my breath, I take them back—but before Jo can ask me what’s wrong, the spellbook opens, the pages flipping open quickly before they land specifically on the same exact page it was on this morning.
“Whoa.” Johanna scrambles up to her feet, pointing down at the book. “Did that just fucking happen?”
Yes. Yes it did. Because I’m haunted, and my brilliant older sister decided to bring a freaking Ouija board into my house.
