by Amy Hopkins
The growing screams spurred Penny on, and in moments, she’d burst through the upstairs door into the foyer.
Patrons of the Baghdad Theatre were yelling, screaming, and scrambling for exits. Two were jostling for a hiding spot behind a large planter, and one held up a chair in a defensive position.
“Cisco! You can’t fight a ghost with a chair, you idiot!” Amelia cried.
Penny realized the chair-wielder was, in fact, Cisco.
“It’s a ghost!” Cisco yelled, jabbing the chair toward the spirit. He swung it, but it passed through the apparition.
“Penny, you ok? This way.” Crenel appeared in a doorway, gesturing hurriedly. “Someone has barred the kitchen, I can’t get— What the fuck?” He’d finally noticed old cutthroat, whose attention seemed piqued by the newcomer. Crenel backed away slowly.
“Just the kitchen?” Penny asked, poised to run if the ghost turned her way.
Crenel nodded.
“Get to the bar,” she said brusquely.
Cisco hesitated. “What, are we gonna fight this thing off with a bottle of tequila?”
Penny grinned. “Close.”
Cisco’s confused expression faded, and he barked a laugh. “Salt!”
Within half a minute, the three Academy students were armed with salt shakers, shoving their way past a fleeing crowd.
“This way!” Crenel’s voice floated over the cries of alarm. “We’ve got a handful of suspects, and at least two apparitions. We need salt, string, and the GB equipment if it’s nearby.”
Penny arrived at his side just in time to hear the radio crackle. “We’re en route. Over and out.”
“Tell me what you saw,” Crenel said quietly as he took the offered salt shaker.
“There were a bunch of them huddled together. They weren’t doing anything when we got in. I think they’d already summoned it,” Penny explained breathlessly. “They had a book. An old one.”
Crenel paled. “What color?”
“Too old to tell. Black, maybe?” Penny glanced toward him. “Is that bad?”
Crenel shrugged. “It’s the Book of Thoth, kid. We’ve heard rumors it was discovered but were hoping it wasn’t true.”
The ghost burst through a wall, moaning loudly. Despite his ability to pass through walls, the nearby concrete planter flew across the room when the ghost kicked it.
Penny dumped some salt into her hand and flung it at the spirit. It hissed and recoiled.
“Did you see who left with the book?” Crenel asked. He threw another handful of salt at the furious ghost. The tiny grains sizzled on its skin, leaving pockmarks, and melting a hole in its nose. The ghost retreated through the wall.
Penny hesitated. “Not really. They all looked the same. They know enough to keep it hidden, though.”
A crash came from the kitchen, and the door burst open. People streamed out, screaming. Crenel nodded at the door, then ran toward it.
Penny took a breath to steel herself, then plunged in behind him. She jerked back as a whisk flew directly across the room toward her, missing her nose by inches.
The ghost stood on one of the stainless steel benches in the middle of the kitchen. Around him, pots, pans, and cooking utensils took to the air, hurtling toward the ghost but passing through him harmlessly.
“What in the hell?” Penny called to Crenel.
“I think they’re on our side!” Crenel yelled back.
“Who? The utensils?”
“Smartass.” Crenel ducked a badly aimed fork. “He’s the one we need to deal with. I think the other stuff is down to some friendly neighborhood ghosts.”
Penny’s head swiveled around, looking for a weapon that would work. She spied a chopping board with a half-diced onion next to a steaming pot. Beside it, a bowl of sea salt glistened under the fluorescent lights.
“Distract him!” Penny called to Crenel.
“HEY!” Crenel yelled and waved. As the ghost turned to him, Crenel shot her a glance. “Be careful, kid.”
Penny lunged across the counter and grabbed the salt. She scooped it into her hand and stepped forward, ready to throw it. Underfoot, a greasy, wet residue made her slip.
She tossed the salt as she fell, cracking the back of her head on a bench hard enough that her ears buzzed. Cold liquid soaked the back of her dress, and the thought crossed her mind that the ghost could see straight up her skirt—not that he seemed to notice.
Thankfully,
“Penny!” Crenel’s shout rang out over the noise.
“I’m fine!” she yelled, clutching a table for balance as she scrambled to her feet.
The ghost swooped to the floor and spun to face her, his face now melting and pulling away where, she assumed, the salt had hit its target.
Behind him, a soft wind whirled in a circle, disturbing the fallen seasoning. Penny eyed it warily. It’s salt, she reasoned. It’s not gonna hurt me.
“Feel tough, asshole?” she goaded, trying to keep the ghost’s attention focused on her, even as she tugged her dress back down over her ass. If nothing else, distracting their target would buy Crenel time to act. “Picking on a poor, innocent girl. Shame on you!”
His rotting lips pulled back in a snarl, the effect made even more threatening by the loose flap of skin hanging off his chin.
Penny growled back.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the salt gusting around in a tiny tornado. It lifted, then swirled toward the ghost.
“You know what?” Penny said calmly. “I’m not gonna miss you at all.” She stepped back as the saltnado slammed into the ghost. Tiny holes tore through him, and his body twisted and shrank. With one last violent scream, he vanished.
The salt fell and scattered across the floor. “How the fuck did you do that?” Penny asked.
Agent Crenel, face as white as the streaks in his hair, shook his head shakily. “That wasn’t me.”
Penny gasped as something moved behind her. She lurched forward and turned, to find a kitchen cloth slowly dragging itself onto the floor, settling on the puddle of spilled soup she had slipped in earlier. Slowly, the kitchen came to life, utensils floating to benches, fallen chairs righting themselves, and empty pots returning to cupboards.
“Looks like those girls raised more than one spirit,” Crenel said. “We were just lucky the rest weren’t malignant.” He took Penny’s arm to steady her, helping her untangle her feet from the cloth wrapped around her new boots.
“Uh, thanks for the cleanup?” Penny said to the empty air. The cloth dipped once, then scooted away.
Crenel frowned. “You’ve ruined your dress.”
Penny shrugged. “I knew I should have stuck to jeans.”
The agent shook his head, unable to let the matter go. “You’re a civilian acting for the department. That’s how I’ll spin it for them, anyway. We can reimburse that.” He pointed out the far door. “The exit is that way. You should go check on your friends. All we have to do now is clean up, and that’s a job best left to the professionals.”
“What about the bitches who summoned this thing?” Penny asked. “And the ghost. Ghosts. Is he just...gone?”
Agent Crenel sighed. “The girls will be long gone by now if they’ve got half a brain between them. The book, too.”
“Damn.” Penny wasn’t well versed on the FBI, but she could guess someone’s ass would be hung out to dry for that. “And old Cutthroat the Psychopath?”
“Gone, most likely. He could pop up again, but based on what we know of the location, he’ll just loiter around the bathrooms giving people the willies.”
Penny tugged on his arm as he made to leave. “What do you mean, the location?”
Crenel chuckled. “We’ve got the history of every ghost sighting in Portland. This place? It’s notorious for spirits. My guess is our friend with the slit throat was probably a suicide. An old stagehand from back in the day who haunts the bathrooms, spying on girls. It’s not the first time he’s been seen here.”
; “That’s disgusting,” Penny said, horrified. Bad enough an actual creeper perving on girls in the loo, but an invisible one?
“The rest of them took care of it.” Crenel waved his hand around the room to indicate the invisible helpers. “Old kitchen staff. Everyone who works here confirmed that there’s a benevolent presence hovering around the kitchen and making sure everything runs smoothly.”
Penny still had questions. “So, the girls with the book. Were they trying to bring something over, or just incite what’s already here?”
Crenel shrugged. “Who knows.”
“Right.” Penny hobbled to the door, back stiff from her fall. It swung open to reveal two agents.
“Goddammit, Stu, what’s going on here?” The taller agent, a woman with tight curls and bright red lipstick, clicked her tongue. “Can’t keep you outta trouble for a hot minute, can they?”
“No, ma’am, they cannot.” Crenel flicked his thumb toward Penny. “Karen, this is Penny Hingston.”
“Oh!” Karen ran appraising eyes over Penny. “Was she worth the demotion?”
“Demotion?” Penny asked.
“For taking on unofficial business while on a job.” The agent lifted a sculpted eyebrow. “You don’t think he flew all the way across the world on the government’s dime just to recruit a kid for college, did you?”
“I was there, and I did my job.” Crenel laughed. “I just happened to take an afternoon of personal time in the middle. Anyway, if the pay doesn’t drop, it’s not a demotion. They just lumped me with an idiot partner for a few months.”
“Tell me about it after you’ve partnered with Curry for a week.” Karen smirked. “I’d swap with you any day.” She stuck a hand out to Penny, who shook it timidly. “Special Agent Karen Delouise. How is school going?”
“All right, I guess.” Penny shrugged awkwardly. “We only started this week.”
“Ah.” Agent Delouise gave Penny a dismissive nod. “Well, good luck with it. Crenel, you gonna tell me what in sweet Jesus is going on here? We have equipment assembling outside. Is that still needed?”
Crenel tipped an imaginary hat at Penny, then turned his attention to Delouise, giving her a terse but accurate description of the evening’s events.
Penny slipped out of the kitchen into the foyer. It was mostly empty now. A few chairs still sprawled on the plush carpet and a palm tree had been knocked over, leaving a crescent-shaped trail of dirt as the pot rolled away. Its mate had been luckier; although the second pot had been disturbed, as evidenced by the freshly piled dirt at the base of the ribbed trunk of the palm tree, it was still upright.
Nearby, a mound of black cloth sat discarded in the corner. Penny picked it up and held it by the corners. It was a hooded cloak. “Looks like someone was eager to blend in with the crowd,” she mused.
Penny wandered back toward the theatre entrance, cloak bundled under her arm. She would pass it on to Agent Crenel, but she didn’t want to interrupt him just yet. Instead, she settled down on a cushioned bench facing the door to the kitchen.
A couple walked past her, excitedly talking about the disturbance although their heads were each buried in a phone.
“It’s uploaded!” The guy, sandy-haired and grinning, high-fived the girl.
“Babe, if that takes off, we’ll be rich with all the views!” They paused for a passionate kiss.
Penny grimaced but suppressed the urge to tell them to get a room. As they left, Penny caught the traces of an argument from outside.
“Ma’am, it’s for your own safety. You can’t go back in!”
Penny leaned over for a better view. Police milled outside, stringing up a flimsy taped barrier to prevent anyone from entering the theatre. Although most of the crowd beyond them seemed content to watch, flashes dotting amongst them as they snapped pictures from their phones, one girl angrily faced down her opponent.
She wore tight jeans and a dark tank top, and Penny shivered in sympathy. The girl must have left her coat inside, although it was a purse she was fighting over with the cop.
“Hey!” Penny called out, getting the officer’s attention. “You’re not kicking me out, right?”
With a pained expression, the officer shook his head. “We’ve been ordered to prevent anyone from entering, but the people inside are in charge of evicting anyone still there.” He quickly sidestepped to prevent the girl from darting past him.
“I’ll get your purse and throw it to you,” Penny called.
The officer sighed in relief, but the girl snarled. “No, I need to go in myself. Let me through!”
She shoved the police officer. Another quickly grabbed her from behind, and between them, they restrained the angry girl.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” one officer growled. “You’re under arrest.” He spun her around and flicked a pair of cuffs from his belt.
“I need that book!” The girl screeched before lunging forward, freeing one arm that was quickly grabbed by the second officer. He held it tightly over her head. The girl clenched her dirty fist in frustration.
Dirty...hands. Book? Penny stared for a moment, then gasped. “The palm tree!” She spun back toward the theatre and started running just as the girl wriggled past the cop. The girl’s hand, streaked like she’d spent the day in the garden, had sent her head spinning. “I’m such a wombat. How did I walk past that?”
A hand yanked her wrist, jerking her back on unsteady feet. “Get away from it, bitch!”
Penny dropped her stance and flung her body back, easily breaking the smaller girl’s grasp. She ducked a wild punch, then grabbed the outstretched arm, twisting her body around and flipping the girl onto the floor.
Outside, the sound of fighting grew. Penny threw a quick glance toward the officers, who were now struggling to hold back a wave of angry people. “Crenel!” Penny screamed.
The kitchen doors burst open, and Agent Crenel appeared, Special Agent Delouise behind him. It took him barely a second to parse the scene. “Backup in the foyer, STAT. More beat cops, and I need three officers here now!”
The momentary distraction was Penny’s undoing. When the cultist's forehead connected with her nose, the pain sent her vision spinning as heat blossomed across her face.
“You sneaky bitch!” Penny croaked as the girl tried to scramble away from under her. Penny let her twist around, trying to get to all fours. Then, she looped an arm around the girl’s throat and pulled. The forward movement stopped as limp hands scratched at her arm.
“Get off her, kid.” Penny looked up to see Delouise standing over them, a pair of handcuffs dangling from one hand and a stun gun in the other. “Trust me, you don’t wanna be touching her when this goes off.”
Penny sprang away, and the girl lurched forward. She had taken about three steps when the stunner clicked. The tiny prongs flew forward, connecting with her arm, and she dropped to the ground, convulsing.
Outside, the fighting grew louder. Satisfied Delouise had the girl under control, Penny dashed back to the small atrium with the two potted plants. She gave the fallen one a cursory glance—no, too messy. Nothing hidden in there. She dug her hands through the loose dirt of the other. Nothing!
Dammit. She’d been so sure.
“What is it?” Crenel’s voice behind her made Penny jump.
“That girl—she’s one of them.” Penny suddenly remembered the cloak. She picked it up where it had dropped in her scuffle. “I think this is hers. It would explain why she’s out in this godawful weather without a coat, anyway.”
“And?” Agent Crenel pressed. His eyes continued to search the room, occasionally flicking back to the disturbance outside. More police officers had lined the barricade, and Penny spied three protesters lying face down on the concrete, hands cuffed behind them as they flailed on the ground.
“Her hands were dirty.” Penny gestured to the pot. “And the soil in the pot was disturbed. I thought—“
Crenel didn’t wait for her to finish. He shoved the tree
, sending it rolling on the carpet, a pile of loose dirt flying to join the half-circle made by the other pot. He leaned down and yanked the plant out.
“Lesson number one, kid: always trust your gut. If it fails, it just means you haven’t dug deep enough.” Crenel thrust a hand into the bottom of the pot and drew out a cloth-covered square. He shook the dirt off, and the fabric dropped away to reveal a tattered book.
“Oh, shit!” Penny’s jaw hung open for a moment before a grin spread over her face. “I was right!”
A guttural scream interrupted anything else she might say. The girl, now standing and cuffed, struggled in vain as Delouise held her tight.
“Hey, Walker! This one’s ours. Take care of her, will you?” Agent Delouise shoved the girl into the waiting arms of a uniformed officer. Free of her prisoner, Delouise strode over to where Penny stood with Crenel. This time, her glance was accompanied by a small smile. “You did good, kid.”
Crenel handed her the book, and Delouise hefted it appreciatively. “I told you she was worth it.”
“Crenel, how exactly are you wrapped up in the Academy?” Penny asked bluntly. She’d had enough of the pussyfooting around, and figured her efforts this evening had given her the leverage she needed to insist on an answer.
Delouise snorted, and Crenel looked at his feet. Neither answered.
“Really?” Penny sighed in defeat. Guess I was wrong.
“Penny!” Amelia’s head popped through a doorway. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
Penny waved at Crenel and Delouise. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you guys around?”
“Only if you’re in trouble,” Delouise said crisply. “So let’s hope not.”
“I’ll be knocking around the Academy at some stage,” Crenel said. At Delouise’s lifted eyebrow, he smirked. “They gave me the liaison job. No, I don’t know why, either.”
“God help you all,” Delouise muttered. She glanced at Penny. “Make sure you give him hell.”
Chapter Seven
Penny stumbled into class the next morning, still wearing the smeared remnants of last night’s mascara. She had a purple bruise blossoming from her lower back to her mid-thigh, although that, at least, was easily covered by her usual uniform of worn jeans.