“I think Mick Jagger might actually be a ghost,” Frank replied with his eyes still closed. “He’s certainly a spirit of some kind. Hell, him and the other one. Keith Richards.”
“They got a song you should listen to before you get up here,” Claire told him.
“Yeah, what’s that?” Frank didn’t want to hear it.
“You can’t always get what you want. See you soon, buddy.”
Jack let out a long whistle. “Ho-lee shit, Frank. Claire said you got beat up, but damn. That mark on your neck makes it look a lot worse than that.”
Frank turned his head slowly and looked at Claire, his eyes shooting silent death at her. “You told everyone?”
Claire shrugged with a smile. “I have to keep the team abreast of what’s going on.”
Frank’s plane had arrived an hour ago. Remington and Lance had picked him up from the airport, and now the group sat together in an empty classroom.
Remington and Lance were in the front, where the professor would usually stand. Frank was sitting on a stool to the left of them—not quite in the corner of the room, but close.
Claire and her group sat in the middle of the front row. Dean Pritcham sat on the right-hand side of the front row.
“Seriously, Frank,” Jack quipped again. “You forget how to fight when you were down there?”
Frank turned his head with that same sphinxlike stare. “Want to try me, Jackie-boy?”
Jack was grinning, obviously enjoying how much he was getting under Frank’s skin. “Hey, hey. Calm down. I’m your friend. I just don’t like seeing you all bruised up.”
Claire looked at Remington and Lance. “Okay, we’re all here. What do we want to discuss, since you two are the ones who need to know the information?”
The two agents were leaning against the table. Remington looked at Frank. “We need to know what you saw. What happened.”
“And give them more information than you gave me on the phone,” Claire turned away from the leprechaun and shrugged at the agents. “Frank seems a bit shy about what happened.”
Frank crossed his arms over his chest. “Not shy. Just don’t like talking on the phone.”
“Spoken like every male ever,” Marissa commented.
Frank rolled his eyes. “I’ll not respond to such sexist comments. What happened was simple. I was on the beach, and I saw a shirt and pants walking across the sand by themselves like nobody was inside them. No one else saw it, and when I stood up to get a better look the damn thing stole me beer.”
“That’s not all,” Claire mused. “Sentient laundry doesn’t explain the bruise on your neck.”
Frank reached up and gently rubbed the bruises. “Let me get to all of that, lass. ’Tis my story, not yours.”
Claire rolled her eyes, gesturing with her hand for Frank to continue.
Frank did so with some hesitation. “A day or so later, I was sitting at a tiki bar, and I saw the damned thing again. This time it was stealing food from other people’s plates. The bartender couldn’t see anything out of place, though. From everything I could tell, no one at the bar could see it. No one on the beach, either.”
Frank stopped rubbing his neck. “Ye all know me, and know I’m the highest caliber of citizen. I knew something was going on, so I decided to follow the creature. I felt it was me civic duty.”
Frank looked around the room to see if anyone would challenge him. He saw a few smiles, but everyone remained quiet. “Anyways, I got to the beach. The creature must have known it was being followed because I couldn’t see it. It crept up on me from behind and put a chokehold on me until I passed out. When I woke up, it was gone.”
Claire raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
Frank nodded vigorously. “Yeah, that’s exactly what happened.”
“Have you seen anything else?” Lance asked from the table.
Frank leaned forward. “That’s not enough? I was mugged, for Zeus’s sake.”
Lance put his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Just had to check.”
Remington turned his attention to Pritcham. “We’ve got Veil activity down there. No doubt about it. The deaths, combined with this attack on Frank, confirm it. Something is going on, and it’s most likely a coven who has succumbed to committing cult activity.”
Claire wanted to know what Marissa thought. The smartest of them all, what went on inside her head was as important as anything Frank or the agents had to say. “Care to chime in, Marissa?”
She studied her friend, and it didn’t look good.
“This is different than Dracula,” Marissa told Claire. “A lot different.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed. “How?”
Marissa frowned in thought. “There was organization with Dracula. We knew what he wanted. We knew what the cult wanted—to sit at Dracula’s right hand.” She shook her head, looking down at the floor. “That’s not going to be the case with ghosts. In fact, it’s hard to imagine a different type of enemy.”
“Nothing is worse than vampires,” Frank refuted, although Claire thought he didn’t sound so sure of himself. She glanced at him and watched him lightly rubbing his neck again.
“It’s going to be a harder fight.” Marissa didn’t look up. “What do ghosts want? It’s almost laughable because each one wants something different. They’re here for completely different reasons. In the stories, some haunt houses, some haunt people, some just try to create mayhem. They’re not going to work in any kind of organized fashion. They’ll just create problems.”
A question came to Claire. “Dracula wasn’t real in the sense that he lived and died here. He came from behind the Veil. What about these ghosts? Do you think they were from Earth?”
Marissa shrugged, her face stern. “I don’t know, Claire. I don’t understand that part.”
Claire nodded and turned to Dean Pritcham. “Do we have a ghost expert? Someone who’s going to know this stuff? Dr. Byron is great, of course, but there has to be someone more knowledgeable on this type of Myther.”
“I’ll figure that out. I have someone in mind.” Dr. Pritcham wrote something down on the notepad in front of her. She looked at the agents. “What do you want us to do in the meantime?”
“We’ll need the lab downstairs to get to working on things that combat ghosts,” Remington answered. “We know that salt is effective against them. We have people working on weaponizing it.”
He sighed and looked at the three students. “As for you, we’re not ready to send you down there yet. We need more information first. Lance and I are going to try to understand the landscape. We’re heading to Miami.”
“How?” Claire asked. “You can’t see Mythers. You might have seen them when the vampires were attacking, but your brain snapped back into place after. At best, you’ll be able to see a limited view of Mythers, so how are you going to figure this all out?”
“Yeah,” Jack chimed in. “Neither of you wanted to go down into the subway with us, but you want to go to Miami? I think you should send me. Maybe me and Frank—”
“Frank and me,” Marissa corrected.
Jack shrugged. “Whatever. You should send us. We’ll be able to see what’s going on.” He winked at Frank. “Plus, it would be good to have a little fun.”
“You know I’ve got a point,” Claire continued. “Regardless of what Jack is prattling on about. You two aren’t going to be able to do much down there alone.”
Lance looked at his partner. “She’s right.”
Remington nodded. “Frank?” He looked toward the corner of the room. “Want to go back down there with us?”
“I’d like to go back down there, aye. But not with ye,” Frank replied grouchily.
“Given that we’re paying the tab, I’m not sure that’s in the cards, my man.” Remington shrugged, then turned back to the rest of the group. “So that’s the plan. Frank will head down to Miami with us. You three continue studying ghosts. Once we know more, we’ll be able to get a stronger plan together.”<
br />
“Wait, don’t I have a choice in this?” Frank asked.
Claire smiled. “Don’t look to me for any help. You should have called me earlier.”
Chapter Five
Frank and the FBI agents left the university, and Claire and her friends remained.
A few days passed, and class went on as usual. Claire figured that Dean Pritcham must have been searching for someone with the expertise needed to adequately combat the ghosts.
Jack acted like he usually did, although he switched his focus from every girl he saw to mainly Samantha. So far, she didn’t seem to be taking his advances seriously.
Claire liked that a little bit. Make him work for it.
Marissa was quieter than usual, and Claire understood why. She was terrified. The ghosts were scaring her worse than the vampires had. It wasn’t that their powers were so much stronger since, truth be told, she didn’t think any of them had any real understanding of what the ghosts could do.
No, Marissa was frightened because she didn’t think they could stop them.
Claire hadn’t—and wasn’t going to—talk about it with her yet. She was coming to realize that as a leader, she needed to understand what she was talking about before diving into a conversation. She was a long way away from her old job at the Kickin’ Chicken back home. Leading people into battle had a whole different level of responsibility.
They’d made it out of their first foray without too many injuries, but maybe luck had played into that.
Maybe not, though, she thought. Maybe the unit did well because we're powerful.
For the past few months, Claire had let the mantle of leader fall away. She’d become a focused student, if not the smartest. She’d had to focus and couldn’t skate through a lot of the harder stuff like Marissa. Now though, she was realizing that the mantle couldn’t fall away forever.
It was being hoisted back upon her shoulders, and the role of student would disappear again.
Or maybe it already has, Claire thought.
Either way, she was responsible for other people’s lives. Their safety came first, and it was a weight she felt all too strongly.
Claire lay awake in bed while Marissa slept on the other side of the room. Shrouded in darkness, Claire worked through her worries. They were things she couldn’t share with Jack and Marissa. They couldn’t know these thoughts. If they doubted her when it came to the crunch, then they would all die.
“You awake?” Marissa whispered.
Claire jumped. She hadn’t known Marissa was awake. “Did I wake you up?”
“No,” Marissa answered. “I can’t sleep. I was just hoping you might be awake.”
Claire rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “What’s bothering you?”
Marissa sighed. “The new professor Dean Pritcham found is coming today, right?”
“That’s the word on the street,” Claire responded.
Marissa sighed. “Which means we’re getting closer to having to fight these ghosts.”
Claire rolled over on her side so that she faced Marissa’s bed. This doesn’t seem like her usual level of worry. “What’s bothering you?”
Marissa was lying on her back, like Claire. She didn’t roll over to speak, finding it easier to look up at the ceiling instead. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
It was an age-old question, one asked of Claire numerous times over her life. Kids asked it when they were young and trying to scare each other. “I mean, in real life? No. I don’t know if that means I won’t be able to see them or not. Why? Do you?”
“Yes,” Marissa whispered, nodding her head slightly. “I’ve seen them. I’ve never told anybody about it before. Not even my parents. I think it might be one of the reasons I can see Mythers, because of what happened to me.”
So that’s it, Claire thought. This is the real reason for her fear. She rolled onto her side and waited, not saying anything. Marissa would speak when she was ready.
After another minute or so, Marissa continued. “It was… It was bad, Claire. I still have nightmares about it sometimes.”
Marissa grew quiet. Claire waited a few seconds and then asked, “What happened?”
Marissa shook her head. “You’ll just think I’m dumb.”
Claire shook her head, forgetting they were in darkness. “I promise, no matter what, I’ll never think you’re dumb. Look, we fought Dracula. Do you really think I’m going to not believe that you saw ghosts?”
Marissa sighed and was quiet for a long minute. When she spoke next, it was a whisper. “Ghosts are a different thing than Dracula. Dracula and vampires are well-defined creatures for the most part. Ghosts… I don’t think they’re going to work like that. What I saw when I was younger.” She paused. “I don’t want to talk about it. These things, they’re insane. They’re not rational. They’re not remotely human.”
Claire rolled over onto her back again. “Sooner or later, you’ll need to tell us about this. It’s important, Marissa. It doesn’t have to be tonight, but we’ll need to know what you saw.”
Her friend sighed, and Claire listened as she rolled over on her side to face the wall.
“I know,” Marissa responded. “But let me do it in my own time. I brought it up now because I wanted to warn you, but I’m not ready to talk about it. Not fully. Especially not with Jack. Can we keep it between us for the time being?”
“Yeah, of course. You tell us when you’re ready, all right?”
“Thanks, Claire,” Marissa whispered. “I’m going to try to get some more sleep.”
“Me too,” Claire responded.
She was going to try, but she knew it wasn’t going to happen.
Professor Byron smiled as he stepped aside and presented the new professor to Claire and her group. “Dr. Tharos, these are the three students we’ve flown you in to teach. Students, this is Dr. Bradley Tharos.”
They were in a small room that was slightly bigger than the dean’s office. There were a few pictures hanging on the walls, but Claire was too focused on the rest of the room to take notice. She glanced at the ten chairs lined up in rows, and then at the desk set in front with a laptop open on it. Claire figured the Mac was the professor’s rather than the school’s.
She read the stickers on it with a smile. “I want to believe,” and “The Truth is Out There.” “Ghosts are my real friends.”
The man in front of her looked vastly different from any other teacher Claire had seen at the university. He had tattoos up and down both arms—full sleeves from what she could tell. He wore glasses, and his hair was short and messy. He had on a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved, button-up shirt.
Claire didn’t know how old he was exactly, only that he looked closer to her age than Dr. Byron’s.
“You’re the ghostbusters, eh?” he asked with a small smile. He glanced over at Dr. Byron. “Thanks so much for your hospitality and the introduction.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Dr. Byron responded. He moved past the students and headed toward the back of the room to take a seat. “Since we only have you for a little while, I’m going to learn as much as I can, too. I imagine your knowledge will be invaluable for future classes.”
“That’s cool with me,” Dr. Tharos responded. He turned his focus to the three students in the front row. “Okay, introductions. Who are you guys?”
Jack jumped in before Claire had a chance to reply. “I’m Jack Teams. These are my sidekicks, Claire Hinterland, and Marissa Hallor.” He gestured with his right hand to the two sitting by him.
Claire just rolled her eyes. “You don’t know Jack-ass very well yet, so I'm going to apologize upfront. I promise that it doesn’t get any easier, though.”
Jack winked at Dr. Tharos. “Jealousy. What can you do about it? Am I right?”
For his part, the professor raised one eyebrow and looked at his male student with skepticism. After a moment, he shook his head and shifted his attention to Claire and Marissa. “I’m glad to be here. I must
admit, I was surprised to be asked.”
“But you’re an expert on ghosts, right?” Claire asked.
Dr. Tharos nodded. “I’m in academia, although my specialty wasn’t recognized as a practical science until the Veil opened. Still, even in my small domain we’ve heard rumors about professors like Dr. Byron being swept away by the FBI to teach. The invasion, and all that. I’m going to give you a bit of background on me, and then we can get started with today’s lesson.”
Claire nodded. “Sounds good.”
The other two agreed as well.
“Dr. Byron and Dean Pritcham have both told me about you three, and that it’ll be primarily you three I’m interacting with. I was concerned about your ages, but your records speak for themselves.” He smiled warmly. “I’ve got my Ph.D. in Parapsychology from the University of Kensington in England.”
“You’re British?” Marissa inquired. “You don’t have an accent.”
The professor smiled. “No, clearly, I’m not English. I’m actually from Portland. That’s where I got all these tattoos. My focus is on the history and psychology of magic and the paranormal, but that’s a technical way of saying I look at how magic and ghosts have been a staple of human culture from our earliest beginnings. I study both where they originated from in our minds, as well as how these beliefs affect the psychology of human beings at an individual level, and in a wide-scale societal viewpoint. The pay is shit, mainly because until now, who’s cared?”
He smiled again at that last point, and Claire knew he was serious.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Marissa asked, barely able to look up from the book in front of her.
“Well, given that I’ve been flown out here by the FBI to teach you all about them, I suppose I do. Did I before?” He laughed. “Hell yeah. How else could I contribute to your curriculum?”
Marissa smiled and looked down at her book.
“You wrote this?” Claire asked, tapping her own book with her forefinger.
Again, another smile from the professor. “I did. Myself and another colleague. ‘What To Do If You See A Ghost.’ We thought the name was pretty good for a textbook, although including these three copies, I think we’ve sold, well, three copies.”
Paranormal University: Second Semester: An Unveiled Academy Novel Page 5