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Bree lived next to a graveyard. It was small—about a two acres—and overgrown. Nobody took care of the graves anymore. It had been established sometime in the late 1800s and most of the inhabitants had taken up residence before 1950. Their families were gone—dead or moved on, leaving the headstones as the only proof that at some time, the dead had truly belonged to the living.
“Do you have any crackers?” Fancypants asked.
“You’re kidding. You’re still hungry after that breakfast I fixed?”
He nodded, rubbing his belly.
Bree crooked her finger. “Come on, I’ll get some for you.”
Fancypants followed her back into the kitchen. A moment later she returned without him. “He’s busy eating a box of Ritz crackers.”
“I love those,” I said. “So, what’s going on? Your texts sounded worried.”
“I am worried,” Bree said, motioning for me to take a seat on the back steps with her. She had a small porch, barely large enough to act as a landing for the five porch steps leading to the yard. The steps were wide enough for two people to sit on.
“Why? What happened?”
“First, can you sit here for a bit and then tell me if you sense anything?” She was so concerned that it worried me. Bree could take care of herself and if something happened to interrupt that confidence, it was time to be worried.
I nodded. “All right.”
I held out my hands. As I let my conscious mind drift into a trance state, I moved through the layers making up the world around me. There was the conscious layer—the mundane layer, so to speak—that we all lived in. This was the layer where we went to work, met with friends, shopped, and drove and interacted with all that seemed concrete.
Below that were other levels of existence.
Next came the level permeating nature, where the elements settled into form: into the ocean, lakes, and rivers; into the volcanoes, wildfires, and the warmth of the sun; into the mountains, plants, and animals; and into the gusting breezes, the tornadoes, the very air that filled our lungs.
And there was the shadow layer—existing on the ethereal and astral planes, where dark and light were muted into so many shades of gray that it was impossible to count them. Here were monsters of the mind that could also destroy the body, nameless nebulous forms that offered us strength, or sucked the life out of us. Here lurked the Shadow People, and the creatures that came in from the far reaches of the void. And here were the Celestial Beings, who could wound mortals with their blinding light as easily as the Shadow People did with their inky darkness.
And yet, another level—the level of spirits who were moving toward the Veil. Here were the ghosts waiting for closure, the haunts who were so angry over losing their lives that they couldn’t see all that awaited them on the other side of the Veil. Here were the undead—the vampires who lived in a perpetual twilight.
And so, the count went on. How many layers existed? I didn’t know. But they all belonged to the web that stretched through the universe to connect everything and everyone. And on that web were intersections where we could see into the vast realms that spread beyond time and space.
I let my vision drift. Figures appeared in the graveyard. I could see them easily from where I sat, but none stood out to me. They wandered around the grounds, stopping now and then to add another spirit to their group. After a few minutes I shifted my focus, listening to the light breeze, to the birds announcing their plans for the day. The heat was coming—it would be warm later, and any rain was a long ways away. No storms lay on our horizon, only a procession of summer days.
I moved on to the animals, but there were no surprises there, either—and no sense that anything was up. Except…the dogs stood on alert, even while they played. I walked over to where they were tussling over a knotted towel. They looked at me expectantly, so I knelt and called them over.
As they crowded in, eager to play, I stroked their backs and tried to sense what they were focused on. I found myself drifting into their thoughts. At first I saw warm, fuzzy images of Bree, then their treats and toys, of each other…there was even a cozy thought of me. But beneath all that was worry—concern. Beneath all their happy thoughts was a low-level awareness of being watched. Of needing to protect the yard more than usual. Shadows crept around the perimeter of the yard.
Atlas and Oscar suddenly bayed as a whirlwind sense of danger broke through their thoughts and splashed against me like a cold shower of water. I did what I could to find out what was going on, but the fear was all that I could latch on to, and after a few moments I stopped. I was disconcerting the dogs, and I didn’t want to stress them out.
“What is it?” Bree said, walking over beside me.
I threw the knotted towel and the dogs bounded after it, once again their happy-go-lucky selves. “I don’t know, but the dogs are picking up on some sort of danger. It’s coming from the graveyard. So, yeah, there’s something out there, focused on your house. You need to be cautious until we pinpoint who’s behind it and whether it’s deliberately directed at you, or you’re just in the crosshairs.”
“Wonderful,” Bree said, crossing her arms in front of her. “That’s the last thing I need—an invisible voyeur.” She glanced around, uneasily. “What should I do?”
“For now, keep alert. Lock your doors. I’ll help you ward your house. I think that’s all you can do.” I hated saying that, but it was true. The cops wouldn’t laugh her off—they knew all about the invisible worlds around us—but neither would they be able to do anything. It was hard enough prosecuting a corporeal stalker, let alone an elusive spirit.
As she played with the dogs, I turned back to the graveyard. I needed to explore it, but I didn’t want to until I had someone with me. Regardless of the strides I’d made, I was still terrified that I might run into a vampire.
After a moment, Bree and I returned to the kitchen, where I found Fancypants, lounging in a food coma. He burped, apologized for eating the entire box of crackers, and then followed me out to my car. It was time to get going on the day.
CHAPTERTWO
By the timeFancypants and I arrived home, I was swinging between speculating what was skulking around Bree’s house, and planning out lunch and dinner for my great-grandma. Although she said she’d eat anything, I had my doubts. She was very much the Dowager Countess off Downton Abbey, only modernized.
“What do you think is going over at Bree’s?” Fancypants asked. “The dogs were upset.”
