by Deanna Chase
“Oh, stop being a bully,” Pyper continued. “We’re both big girls. If we want to help Ian figure out what’s going on, we will.”
Kane stared at her until she raised an eyebrow. Then he studied me. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue. Real mature, I told myself. Finally, he asked Ian, “Is there something you do to keep people safe in these situations?”
Ian nodded. “Yes. So far we haven’t had any mishaps…though this situation seems a bit more volatile than most we’ve been involved with.”
“Really?” I asked. “How so?”
“Well,” Ian paused, rubbing his chin. “Most of our clients come to us because they see images, like a vision, or they get a sixth sense something is there. Rarely do we come across cases where the spirits are interacting on as personal a level, as they seem to be doing in this case.”
Kane stayed silent but continued to glare at all of us.
Ian glanced at him, shifting uncomfortably. “But don’t worry, there are things we can do to discourage interaction. As soon as I hear back from my aunt we’ll set up wards to keep the ghost inactive.”
“Sounds great.” Pyper handed him a card. “My cell is on there. Give us a ring when you’re ready. Come on, Jade, let’s get some takeout and head to my apartment.”
Without glancing back, I fell into step behind Pyper.
Once back at Pyper’s I found my phone and grimaced at the multitude of calls from Kat and Gwen. I should have remembered to call my aunt. Chances are, she’d felt the void when I’d been knocked out and most certainly would have felt my energy shift while I’d been in the club that afternoon. I dialed, and spent a full twenty minutes assuring her I was fine, and promised to check in more often.
“It’s good to have someone to worry about you.” Pyper handed me a mug of chai.
I nodded. “Thanks.” Emotionally exhausted, I leaned back and closed my eyes.
Promptly at nine o’clock, Pyper’s cell phone rang. She answered and a moment later tucked her feet under her. “Ian wants just you for now. Then we’ll switch.”
“Here goes nothing.” I got to my feet, waved and took off down the two flights of stairs. My heart pounded. I wanted nothing else but to go back up to Pyper’s apartment and just hang with her.
Ian waited for me at the back door of Wicked. We wasted no time saying our protection spell and repeating the procedure we’d followed the week before in my apartment.
For the last hour I’d been having an internal debate, trying to decide if I wanted to open myself up and use my gift this time. On one hand it would give me insight, but on the other I might pass out again. And I was really tired of being treated like an invalid.
As Ian followed me around the room, making appreciative noises at whatever results he received, I couldn’t stop my curiosity. I had to know. Letting my guards down, I took in the lingering emotions. They were stale, and I was reminded of the smell of warm beer left out overnight after a party. Dingy lust, mixed with tired anticipation, swarmed in my head then suddenly was chased away by disgust and hatred.
I froze and scanned the room.
“Did you see something?” Ian’s voice and energy lit with excitement.
I shook my head, still trying to hone in on the direction of the intrusion. There wasn’t a clear path, just a whirlwind of toxic emotions.
“Say something,” Ian whispered.
“Why are you here?” I asked in a clear voice. The disgust gripped my senses until all I could see was a red haze. I gasped as I fought it. “Let go! You do not have permission to invade my aura.” The red cleared, and the toxic waste gripping me vanished. A pure white energy, something close to joy, filled my being. “Thank you.”
“Who are you thanking?” Ian asked, stepping up next to me.
“I don’t know. The goddess, maybe. Did you get what you needed?”
“More than enough. I can’t wait to analyze this.” Ian bounced like a little boy on a sugar high. He steadied himself and examined me. “What just happened there?’
I shrugged. I didn’t want to share my ability with Ian. Unfortunately I was too tired to come up with a great explanation. “Can we talk about it later, after you do your analysis?”
His face fell, but he recovered quickly. “Sure. It’s probably better to talk about it after the scientific stuff is laid out anyway.”
I turned to go. “I’ll send Pyper down when I get back upstairs.”
“I guess we’ll have to reschedule our date?” Ian said with a question.
Oops. I’d forgotten all about it. “Sure.” I smiled. “I’m also still waiting to hear what you found out during the first investigation.”
“Oh, right! I have a bunch of charts and stuff for you, but basically it boils down to some spiked EMF readings, indicating there was something there, but nothing definitive. I think we can safely say something is causing havoc. We just don’t have solid proof. Yet.”
I pursed my lips. “All right, but you know I don’t care about proof. I just want it to leave us alone.”
Ian’s smile soured. “Of course. I’m working on it.”
“I know.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Thanks. I really do appreciate everything.”
He pulled me toward him and kissed my cheek. “You’re welcome. Any time. I’ll call you about dinner.”
I nodded and, trying not to read too much into his kiss, went to get Pyper. Halfway up the stairs, I spotted her coming toward me.
“Ian called already,” she said.
“Okay. Is the door open? I need to get my stuff.”
“Yeah, Kane’s up there.” She winked. “Go easy on him. He isn’t used to anyone but me putting him in his place.”
I laughed.
“See ya.” She squeezed past me and disappeared at the bottom of the stairwell.
A moment later I let myself into her apartment. “Kane?”
“In here.” His voiced carried from his room.
I stopped in the doorway, watching him make the bed. Now that my irritation had worn off, I felt bad I’d snapped at him. Even though he’d kind of deserved it. I really didn’t like to be told what to do. Still, he’d only been being protective. “Sorry I lost it on you earlier. It’s been a rough few days.”
He turned, eyeing me. “It’s all right. I admire women with spunk.”
“I can see that.”
His lips quirked. “Oh? Who have you noticed me admiring?”
“Just Pyper. You two are obviously close, and she has more spunk than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know. Charlie might give her a run for her money. That girl can run a bar, keep the dancers in check and throw trouble-making losers out on their asses. Between the two of them I don’t know why they need me.”
For the eye candy. I hid a smile. “If Pyper is the club manager and Charlie runs the bar and helps her out, what exactly do you do?”
“I’m supposed to be taking over for Pyper so she can devote her full attention to the café, but my other work keeps me too busy. I should just promote Charlie and leave it all in her capable hands.” He sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes.
I leaned against the doorframe, enjoying talking with him. “Your other job?”
“Yeah, I’m a financial advisor. Independent contractor, so I set my own hours.”
“That’s interesting. I didn’t know that.” Well, well, well. Mr. Strip Club Owner had a respectable job. Not that it mattered. Hadn’t I already decided I didn’t care what he did for a living while defending him to Kat? Or had I? I still couldn’t see myself dating someone who worked in the sex trade.
Fantasizing about? Appreciating? Drooling over? Yes. But not dating.
The thought brought me back to reality, and I grabbed my bag off the dresser. “I should go. Thanks again for looking after me.”
His eyes met mine. “Any time, Jade. Any time.”
Chapter 7
I scowled at the line snaking its way out the front door of The Gr
ind. What the hell? Usually the place was empty at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning. Since I wasn’t scheduled to work and craved a chai, I dragged my feet to the back of the line and waited.
Five minutes later the line had barely moved. I craned my neck to see what was going on inside. A mass of bodies blocked my view. I started to move past the crowd when a petite blonde grabbed my arm. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”
Her irritation did nothing to help my already grumpy mood. I stared pointedly at her hand. “Let go.”
“I’m not going to let you cut in line. We were here first.”
A slightly darker blonde clone stood next to her, nodding in agreement.
“You have about two seconds to let go before I make you do it.”
At that moment someone else grabbed my opposite shoulder. I whirled, ripping my arm out of the blonde chick’s grip, and came face to face with Kane.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
The blonde started babbling about line jumping while my irritation rose to startling levels. How dare he interfere? Through my angry haze I didn’t hear what Kane said, but the blonde backed off and reclaimed her place in line.
“Let go,” I said.
He released his grip. “Sorry, I just meant to guide you away from the crazy.”
“I can take care of myself,” I snapped.
The confusion in his eyes made me instantly regret my tone. “Sorry.”
Damn, why did I have to be so cranky? The sex dreams had to stop. Every morning I woke frustrated, and hanging out with Kane didn’t help. I was pretty sure he was the reason I was having them in the first place.
“Rough morning?” he asked.
“Something like that.”
“A chai might help.”
I stared, impressed he remembered my drink of choice. He didn’t miss anything. “I can’t—out of time to wait any longer. I have to get to the glass studio. I have a class starting today.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have it done before you know it.” He guided me into the café, ignoring my protests.
“Thank God,” Pyper said when she spotted us. “We’ve had one tour group after another this morning. Jade, I thought you had class this morning.”
“She does,” Kane said as he joined her behind the counter. “She needs a chai before she goes.”
Pyper immediately started fixing my drink.
I protested, but neither of them paid any attention and wouldn’t let me pay. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
Pyper smiled. “There have to be some perks to this thankless job.”
As I left I sent the blonde clones a sickly sweet smile and toasted them with my cup. It was a petty thing to do, but for some reason I couldn’t shake my mood, even after Pyper and Kane had been so kind. I quickened my step, hoping to walk off some tension. Otherwise, teaching would be a disaster.
I cleared my mind and imagined holding a glass rod in my hands. Melting glass was my passion. The first time I’d lit a torch and introduced the glass into the flame, everything else in my life ceased to exist. I focused on that feeling, letting everything else go. My shoulders relaxed as the tension eased.
For years, making beads had been my sanctuary. I didn’t know if it was the concentration required when working with molten glass or the mesmerizing flame, but when focused on a piece, I didn’t feel anyone’s emotions. No one’s but mine. It was a gift I cherished.
I arrived a half hour early and went to work prepping torch stations. The eight-week beginner’s course was designed to teach students how to set up a studio, understand the properties of working with glass and master the art of round beads. How advanced we got in technique all depended on how fast the class progressed.
At eight-forty the bell indicating a visitor rang. Pulling the door open, I said, “You’re a little bit early, but…”
The older woman from The Herbal Connection stood in front of me, casually dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. If it hadn’t been for her light energy invading my senses, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
“I’m sorry, dear. I hope I’m not an imposition.” She wore a pleasant smile.
“Oh no! I’m sorry. Come in. I was just surprised. It’s Bea, right?”
She nodded, peering thoughtfully at me like she had the first time we’d met. “I was hoping I’d run into you again.”
I wasn’t. Had she known I was the teacher here? I bit back the frown threatening my lips and smiled. “Would you like some coffee while you wait?” I gestured toward the snack counter. “I only have decaf. I stopped serving the caffeinated kind after students got too jittery. Shaking hands and hot glass are never a good mix.”
Her arm brushed mine as she moved toward the coffee carafe. She paused. “No need to be nervous. I don’t bite.”
Had she read me, or was my mental state just that obvious? I busied myself, arranging work stations until the bell rang again. I practically ran to let the other students in.
The first hour of the class I spent lecturing on proper safety procedures involving the torches, propane lines and eyewear. After answering all their questions on setting up a home studio, we got started. The group took to the techniques faster than any of my other classes. By the third hour I found myself relaxed and thoroughly enjoying myself. Bea turned out to be the star of the class, mastering the lessons first.
“Done!” she exclaimed, proudly holding up her bead.
I carefully took the cool end of the metal mandrel she’d wound her bead on and admired it. “Wow, you did an excellent job. Perfectly round, with even dots spiraling around it. Okay, someone open the kiln so we can get this beauty in there.”
A young woman, just barely eighteen, jumped up and held the metal door open for me. I slid the mandrel in, beaming at Bea. “Okay, make another one. Then you’ll have a pair.”
Bea settled back into her chair, intent on her task. I scanned the rest of the class and found they too were almost finished and doing quite well. I wondered if Bea’s energy had anything to do with it. Pure white essence mixed with a calmness and joy radiated from her, circling everyone in the room, including myself. It’s typical for people’s moods to affect each other, both good and bad. I’m in a unique position to witness it firsthand. Despite my impulse to stay away from Bea, I found myself undeniably drawn to her.
“Bea! Look, I did it!” Sandy, the eighteen-year-old, exclaimed. She held her mandrel up. “It’s not as nice as yours, but at least it’s round.”
“It’s beautiful, Sandy,” Bea said from the station next to her. She rolled her chair back and held the kiln door open. “Put it in next to mine, and then get another one made. Next week, Jade will show us how to make earrings.”
Sandy grinned and did as instructed.
I nodded an acknowledgement at Bea, thankful for her help, as I instructed another student on adding molten glass to her bead.
Before long I stood in front of the work stations, calling the class to order. “Excellent first day!” Pride radiated off them. “Next week when you come in, I’ll have the very first beads you ever made. Don’t worry about how they look.” Though I already knew they were much better than any of my other students. “Whatever they look like, we’re going to turn them into a piece of jewelry just for you. Think about how cool it will be to tell anyone who asks where you got that fantastic jewelry—you can say, ‘I made them, even the beads.’”
A cheer went up, and the class dispersed.
“Thanks for your help,” I said to Bea.
“Me? I didn’t do anything.” Her smile gave her away.
“Right. Okay, but thanks all the same.”
“You’re welcome. Since you seem to think I did you a favor, I’m wondering if you can do something for me in return?”
I waited.
“Come have tea with me sometime after class when you’re free. There’s something I’d like to show you.” Her face gave off nothing, and suddenly her energy vanished.
“Mysterious.” I gazed at her. Very unusual. Bea hid her emotions from me as if by will, but all day I noticed her energy putting the students at ease. It could be a dangerous combination if she really did have control over what she was doing, and I was certain she did. However, I hadn’t felt anything but pure white light from her, a sign of goodness. I had to admit, I was intrigued. So what if she was a practicing witch? It wasn’t as if she had asked me to join a coven. And if she did, I’d walk away.
Besides, she seemed too pure to be a witch. I didn’t have a clue what she was. “All right.”
Her white light brightened with my agreement. “Wonderful! I can’t wait.” She waved goodbye as she headed toward the door.
I sat down, exhausted and contemplated heading home to take a nap. The idea sent my heart racing. Ian hadn’t shown up with the protection wards yet, and I really didn’t want to face the possibility of more ghost sightings. I hadn’t seen or felt anything the night before, but I’d slept like the dead (if the dead dreamed of hot guys, that is). A whole room of ghosts could have been loitering and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Sliding my protective glasses on, I picked up a flint striker and lit my torch. The familiar orange flame calmed my pulse as I picked up a rod of glass and introduced it to the heat. My attention focused as the glass formed a soft, molten ball. Soon all other thoughts left my head as I pulled thin strands of glass to use later as decoration. With my work station full of prep, I grabbed a steel mandrel and started creating a complicated focal bead.
Hours later, after packing my kiln full of beads, I organized my work station and cleaned up glass scraps until the work surface shined. A true testament to how much I didn’t want to go home. Organization was not my middle name. With a sigh, I turned out the lights and headed home.
Walking past the line formed in front of Wicked, I waved to one of the dancers standing out front and entered the side door. With nervous energy making me nauseous, I forced myself up the three flights of stairs. Please let the ghost be taking the night off.
As I slid my key into the lock, a note taped to the door caught my attention.