Gone Ghost

by Sara C. Roethle

  “I suppose,” she said softly, “We could try, at the very least . . . ”

  I nodded. “Then we'll try. Now I need you to tell me everything you know about the demon that's after you, and where I might find him.”

  “Can I talk to you in private, Xoe?” Chase interrupted before Cynthia could answer.

  I didn't want to talk in private, because I knew what he was going to say, but I nodded and stood. We both walked out of the apartment to stand in the fading sunlight of the stairwell, shutting the front door behind us.

  “I don't think this is a good idea,” Chase stated as he glanced out at the mostly empty parking lot. “Working with witches to summon Sam . . . what if another demon comes through?”

  “Do you have any better suggestions?” I countered.

  Chase took a deep breath and let it out. “Why don't we have Cynthia try to contact whomever is haunting you? You know, go directly to the source.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think only two witches summoning what is probably a rather powerful ghost is a good idea? Sam seems to have control over his spirits. It just seems safer.”

  Chase smiled bitterly. “You're right. I know you are. I just didn't want to have to ask Sam for a favor once we found him.”

  “What were you planning on doing if you found him before this all happened?”

  Chase shrugged and wouldn't quite meet my eyes.

  “Well?” I pressed.

  He shrugged again. “I guess I would have given him a good pummeling until he told me what your dad was looking into before he died, then I would have told him to keep running so that you wouldn't kill him.”

  My jaw dropped in surprise. “I wouldn't have killed him!” I whispered harshly.

  Chase looked at me like I was being silly, and I frowned back at him. “I wouldn't kill your brother, no matter how badly I wanted to.”

  “You nearly killed him the last time we saw him . . . ” Chase accused softly.

  I suddenly felt cold, and it wasn't from the chilly breeze. I had been ready to kill Sam after my father died. It was not a good memory.

  “We should get back inside,” I murmured.

  “Xoe-” Chase began, but I held up a hand to cut him off.

  Without another word I re-entered the apartment. Rose and Cynthia were still in their seats, so I resumed mine. Chase came in a moment later and shut the door behind him. He retook his seat, looking at me like he really wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “So tell me about this demon,” I prompted again once we were all settled.

  Cynthia's eyes took on a faraway look, and I realized that I was asking her to describe the killer of not only her husband, but her daughter.

  “She looks to be around your age, maybe a few years older,” Cynthia explained as she met my eyes. “Shoulder-length dark hair, small frame, a few inches shorter than you,” she went on.

  For some reason I had envisioned a demon more like Bartimus. I had not envisioned a young demon girl like . . . well, like me.

  “Usually, when I track her I only get glimpses,” Cynthia continued. “I can tell whether she's close or far, and I can get a general idea of where she is, but not exactly.”

  So in other words, you're not as helpful as you led us to believe, I thought. What I said out loud was, “Were you there when, you know, with Ben?”

  Moisture became apparent around Cynthia's eyes. She tried to open them wide enough that tears wouldn't fall, but was unsuccessful. She looked down at her lap as she wiped her tears, embarrassed, though there was no need to be. There was nothing wrong with crying.

  “She was there,” Rose answered for her. “They had been tracking the demon from the beginning. She had disappeared for a long time, so that's why we stayed in Shelby. We thought it would be the last place she would look if she believed we were on the run. Then she popped up again and my parents went to investigate.”

  “So the demon might not have been after Ben?” I questioned.

  “W-what do you mean?” Cynthia cut in, raising her tear-stained face to look at me.

  I did my very best not to roll my eyes, but it was a struggle. “Two witches confront an unsuspecting demon who was thrown into the human world against her will without a home or anyone that she knows. It's a recipe for disaster, no matter the demon's intentions.”

  “But she killed Claire and Sasha,” Cynthia countered sharply. “She obviously has a vendetta.”

  I shrugged. “As far as I've been told, their bodies were found well-after the altercations took place. No one really knows what happened, or why the demon attacked.”

  Cynthia's expression turned hostile. “Are you implying that my daughter somehow provoked this demon?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all, though I wouldn't put it past Sasha. All I'm saying is that we have no idea why the demon killed just Claire and Sasha, or what the circumstances were that led to their deaths.”

  Cynthia began crying again. “We know that the demon brutally murdered them. That should be enough.” She sniffled and met my eyes, daring me to argue.

  I shrugged. “I guess we'll just have to find out once we meet her.”

  “Kill her, you mean.”

  I took a deep breath and thought about Cynthia's innocent daughter Claire, found torn to shreds in her bed. Ben, I didn't care about. He got what you get for playing with demons. Claire hadn't done anything wrong, at least as far as I knew.

  “Yes. That's what I mean.”

  Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief. “When would you like to try summoning this other demon?”

  “One would think you'd be a little more hesitant about summoning another demon,” I accused.

  Cynthia looked like she tasted something sour. Her tears had stopped to once again be replaced by anger. “Trust me, when all of this is over, I will gladly go back to pretending demons don't exist, but I can't do that with this girl gunning for our deaths.”

  I replied with a curt nod, satisfied with her answer. “What will you need from me?”

  Cynthia shrugged. “Power . . . energy? It's best if you're well rested before we try. It might take a lot out of you.”

  “Well that rules out tonight,” I groaned. At Rose and Cynthia's questioning glances I clarified, “It's been a very long day.”

  “Then let's plan on tomorrow,” Cynthia replied, “and if I get a sense of where the demon girl is before then, I'll call.”

  “Nice and simple,” I replied.

  Cynthia nodded. Rose and Chase nodded. We were all in agreement, nice and simple. Nice, like how hungry crocodiles are nice, and simple, akin to quantum physics.

  5

  By the time Chase and I poofed back into my bedroom at my mom's house, I was exhausted. Of course Chase, being a night owl, and not having had a rough morning like mine, was bright-eyed and bushy tailed.

  “Do you want me to take you back underground?” I asked with a yawn as we each took a seat on my bed.

  Chase smiled at me and shook his head. “I'm not about to let you get suffocated by a pillow in your sleep.”

  I sighed, he was probably right. My mom wouldn't allow a boy to sleep in my room, but judging by the lack of sound in the rest of the house, she was already asleep. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. The thought was actually kind of exciting. Not the Chase staying in my room part, that just made me nervous, but the teenage act of sneaking a boy into my room. Maybe I wasn't a forty year-old trapped in a seventeen year-old's body after all.

  With a nod to Chase I stood and began rifling through my dresser for any pajamas that weren't horribly unbecoming, then I excused myself to the adjoining bathroom to change.

  Before I could take off my jeans, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out to see a text from Jason, and suddenly remembered him mouthing “later”. Apparently it was now later.

  Half dressed, I opened the text which read, “What did you find out about your kitchen experience?”

  I dropp
ed my flannel pajama bottoms to the floor to reply, “Being haunted. Probably by my grandmother.”

  The phone buzzed a moment later with, “What?!?!”

  I smiled. “Tomorrow Cynthia will try to 'contact' Sam. He could help if we can find him.”

  I waited a full minute for a reply, but when it didn't happen I began dressing again. Just as I was about to wash my face, the phone buzzed from its perch on the side of my bathtub.

  The new message read, “ . . . well I'm glad you have it all figured out.”

  I frowned. Was he upset that I hadn't involved him in the whole figuring out aspect? Was he upset as a friend, or as an ex-boyfriend? Jason was over one-hundred years old, and it made his motives more difficult to comprehend than those of other boys. He'd already lived a full life-time or two, while I was sitting here floundering over my first breakup.

  Not having a clue how to handle this whole awkward situation, I typed, “I'd ask you to come, but you have to watch Emma . . . ”

  “ . . . Yeah.” he replied. “Just be careful, Okay?”

  I nodded, then realizing there was no way for him to see it, I typed, “Careful is my middle name.”

  “More like Calamitous,” he replied instantly.

  I laughed quietly. “GOODNIGHT Jason,” I typed.

  “Goodnight Calamity Xoe,” he messaged back.

  I put my phone down and continued getting ready for bed, while I debated on where I'd make Chase sleep. Two months ago I would have had him sleep in my bed. He was one of my best friends, and we had fallen asleep watching movies next to each other plenty of times at my dad's house. It was always comfortable. Now suddenly it made me nervous. Could a kiss or two really change that much?

  I took a deep breath. Why should I let a kiss change everything? He had slept next to me before, and it would be just plain weird to make him sleep on the floor now.

  With things settled in my mind, I exited the bathroom, only to find Chase rolling out the sleeping bag that usually stayed in my closet.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he stood.

  “I just wasn't sure . . . ” he trailed off.

  “We've slept in the same bed plenty of times,” I said, like I hadn't just been wracking my brain over the same dilemma.

  “I just didn't want to presume,” he replied, drawing out the word “presume”.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “I left an extra toothbrush by the sink.”

  Chase nodded and began humming softly as he went into the bathroom. I knew humming was his nervous tick, but he didn't know that I'd drawn that conclusion. The notes were almost too soft to hear, but it sounded like Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

  While he prepared for bed, I returned the sleeping bag to my closet, plugged my phone in to charge, and crawled into bed. At first I scooted myself all the way against the wall, then told myself to stop being silly and took on a more comfortable position on one side of the bed.

  Moments later Chase emerged from the bathroom, slipped off his shoes, and climbed into bed still wearing his tee shirt and jeans, since he didn't have any pajamas. I would have offered him some of my baggy ones, but with his height they'd still probably be too small.

  He laid on his back while I laid on my side facing him.

  “You want to get the light?” I asked softly.

  Without a word, he reached over and switched off the bedside lamp, leaving us bathed in the sparse moonlight shining through my bedroom window.

  “Hey Xoe?” he asked softly.

  “Hmm?” I mumbled.

  “Let the witches draw from me when we summon Sam.”

  I smiled in the darkness. “Nope.”

  I felt the bed shift slightly as Chase sighed. “I had to try.”

  I scooted over and laid my head on his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, then slipped his arm underneath me to wrap around my back and pull me a little closer. I relaxed, not allowing myself to think about the implications of a late-night snuggle. All I could think about was how I missed the time I'd spent living in my dad's house with him and Chase. I missed the three of us having morning coffee together, and I missed watching old Seinfeld reruns in my dad's den. Chase and I would often fall asleep on the couch, while my dad passed out in the adjacent recliner. It had made me feel safe.

  Yet, I'd spent that whole time wallowing about dropping out of high school, and about not being able to find Jason. I regretted not appreciating that time with my dad while I still had it.

  I felt Chase's body relax into sleep, but I suddenly felt very awake. Chase had known my dad longer than I had, and I knew that he missed him too, though he didn't really talk about it. Chase didn't really talk about much, not about his past, or his sadness, or even his fond memories that most people would be comfortable sharing.

  I flashed back on a memory of the three of us in the kitchen. My dad had wanted me to try re-heating the cup of coffee in his hand with my powers. I had ended up boiling it with such ferocity that it shot out of his cup and drenched his entire arm. Luckily like me, he was unable to get burned by hot liquids, or anything else for that matter. We'd all laughed, and it had become an ongoing joke any time I was near a cup of coffee.

  I smiled at the memory even though it made my heart hurt. Fighting back tears, I snuggled a little closer to Chase, wishing we were going to sleep at my dad's house, even if he wasn't there.

  Either I woke Chase up, or he sensed my discomfort from a stage of half-sleep, but his hand began to gently rub circles along my back in a comforting gesture. I did cry then, just a few tears, as I let out a silent wish for things to go back to how they had been, just two months before.

  I knew I was dreaming, since logically I knew that I was lying in my bed in the human world, but standing in the middle of my dad's kitchen with him brewing us a fresh pot of coffee felt so real that it hurt.

  As the coffee maker dripped its last drop, my dad filled up two mugs and handed one to me.

  “She won't give up,” he said conversationally as his blond hair fell forward to cover one of his green eyes.

  “Grandma?” I asked.

  My dad nodded.

  “How is she even doing this?” I asked as I sipped my dream coffee. “She's dead.”

  He shrugged. “She has some sort of hold on you, though I don't understand it. It's given her a great deal of power.”

  “Then how are you here?” I pressed. “Do you have some sort of hold on me as well?”

  He chuckled. “This is a dream, Alexondra. I'm not here.”

  “But-” I began

  He cut me off with a nervous glance to the side, as if hearing something I couldn't. He held a finger up to his lips for me to be quiet while he looked around the room. Heart thudding in my chest, I stayed perfectly still and listened for whatever he sensed.

  “You have to go now,” he said quickly.

  “But-” I argued again, but he took hold of my shoulders and shoved me.

  If it had been a real shove, I would have fallen down. Instead I woke with a gasp and sat up in bed. Chase sat up with me and placed a hand on my back while I tried to catch my breath.

  “What happened?” he asked frantically. “Did she attack you again?”

  I shook my head and held a hand to my chest. My heart was beating a million miles per minute. “My dad,” I breathed.

  Chase's eyes widened.

  I took a deep, shuddering breath. “It was just a dream,” I rasped.

  Chase put a hand on my shoulder and waited for me to meet his eyes. “We both know that your dreams aren't just dreams.”

  He was right. I had a knack for premonitory dreams, but this one felt different. It had felt like my dad was really there.

  I shook my head while my breathing and heart rate slowed. “Nothing has changed. We'll still summon Sam tonight and we'll get rid of grandmother dearest once and for all.”

  Chase watched me for a moment, framed by the square of morning light coming in through the window, then nodded and climbed out of bed. “
We should check on Dorrie this morning,” he announced, changing the subject. “Plus, I wouldn't mind a change of clothes.”

  I nodded in reply, grateful for the subject change. “I should say hi to my mom first. I haven't seen her since-”

  “You kissed me,” he finished.

  I glared at him from my perch on the bed. “Since you kissed me.”

  He offered me a crooked smile. “That's not how I remember it.”

  I scrunched my nose at him, then climbed out of bed. I could hear coffee being ground downstairs, and hoped it was just my mom making a second pot; half for me, and half for her to take in her thermos to work. If it was the first pot, she'd have plenty of time to hang around giving me a hard time about kissing Chase.

  I left Chase in my room and went downstairs, still wearing my pajamas. I reached the kitchen to find my mom already dressed in a green button up shirt and black slacks. Second pot. Goody.

  Silently cheering in my head, I gave the kitchen sink a wary glance as I approached my mom. Seeing me, she pulled out my favorite Edgar Allen Poe mug and poured me a fresh cup of coffee. The smell of my favorite liquid brought my dream rushing back to me, but I brushed it off as my mom eyed me expectantly.

  I held up my hand to shield my face from the harsh morning like streaming in through the kitchen window while I stared back at her.“What?”

  “So Chase, huh?” she asked as she pushed her short, wavy hair away from her face.

  I lifted my nose in the air. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  My mom smiled, then turned to pop a bagel into the toaster. “You two dating now?”

  I grimaced. “I'm not dating anyone.”

  She gave me a scrutinizing look over her shoulder with her dark brown eyes. “That's not what it looked like to me . . . ”

  I sighed. I hadn't even spoken about it with my friends yet. I sure as heck didn't want to discuss it with my mother. “It just happened.”

  “Is that why he's in your bedroom right now?” she asked casually.

  I inhaled my coffee in surprise, then went into a fit of sputtering as I tried to clear my airways, all while sloshing coffee all over my hand and onto the floor.