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“Ashley’s bedroom.”
He frowned. “You want to try to contact her spirit again?”
“Sort of,” I said. “It isn’t the way I normally operate, so it might not work, but it’s worth a try.”
Steven offered a curt nod. “I trust you. Her bedroom’s upstairs. First door on the left.”
“Thanks. You should wait here.” I cut across the small foyer to the bottom of the staircase.
I darted up the steps, conscious of Kane’s direct view of my backside. I turned quickly at the top of the staircase and spilled straight into Ashley’s bedroom.
The room seemed to be in a state of arrested development. The pink walls were the shade of a ballerina slipper. Butterfly sun catchers dangled from the ceiling. It was as though the room hadn’t been altered in years—and maybe it hadn’t. My own childhood bedroom had become a time capsule after my grandmother died. It didn’t occur to Pops to update anything, nor did it occur to me to ask. I lacked the self-awareness to know I wanted anything at all, other than to fit in with the other children. My focus had been entirely external—be like everyone else. Belong. My primary goal had been to stay in whatever school I was in at the time. I failed far more often than I succeeded.
“Someone is a fan of pink,” Kane commented as he inspected the contents of the room.
“What would a demon notice that I wouldn’t?” I asked.
He picked up a handheld mirror and took a moment to admire his refection. “I’ll let you know when I find it.”
The bed was unmade and littered with pillows. “She likes to feel cozy,” I surmised.
“Who doesn’t?” Kane moved from the mirror to a jewelry box on the dresser. “Nothing of interest in here. Not even a single crystal.”
I glanced up. “Did you expect to find evidence of magic?”
He closed the lid of the jewelry box. “Not her own. I wondered whether someone had been grooming her for another purpose. Young women are more susceptible…”
I glared at him. “You’d better stop right there. I don’t want Steven to have to break up a fight between us.”
Kane grunted. “As though that were even possible.”
“Because he’s human?”
“No, because it wouldn’t be much of a fight.” He spared a casual glance over his shoulder at me. “You’d be dead before he reached the first step.”
“I thought you said I had power.”
He turned back to the dresser and picked up a squat candle. “And like Josie said, you resist using it, which means you’d be out of practice with—whatever it is you do.” He sniffed the candle and grimaced. “Bubblegum, I think. Vile.” He set the candle on the dresser. “Well, Ashley Pratt seems like a quite ordinary girl.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I like a little spice in my humans.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Yourhumans?”
“I meant it in an affectionate way rather than proprietary.”
Steven poked his head in the doorway. “See anything helpful?”
I gave Kane a pointed look. “Not at the moment.” I motioned to the Lake Placid movie poster. “Your sister doesn’t strike me as a horror fan.”
Steven broke into a smile. “I put it there a few years ago as a joke. When she was nine, she begged our parents to watch the movie and ended up regretting it. We even had to leave the crocodile enclosure at the zoo that summer.” His smile faded. “I’m a real dick.”
“No, you’re a big brother,” I said.
“Can’t I be both?” His cheeks reddened. “What if that’s the last thing she remembers about me?”
“She was nine,” I said. “I’m sure it’s been long forgotten.” And the fact that she’d left the poster intact all these years was a sign of her affection for her brother.
