The Ghost Files

by Cheree Alsop

  I glanced at the sigil, then back at her. “The first and last time I tried to show someone something, it went wrong.”

  I winced inward at the memory. I had tried to show Lorne the memories a fox in Creature Languages had given to me. It was more of a moment of pride than anything else, and the memory turned, giving me no control until I showed him the accident in which Sebastian had died and I had become a werewolf. It had left us both shaken.

  “You can trust me,” Dara said, her voice encouraging and filled with understanding. “It might be our only chance to stop whatever demon is linked to this sigil.”

  I knew she was right. We didn’t have any other leads.

  The sound of a bell caught my ear. The thought of sitting through class wasn’t a welcome one. I held out a hand. “It’s worth a try.”

  Dara motioned to the chairs and we both took a seat. She set her hand in mine and closed her eyes. I studied her face. As an empath, Dara was one of the most closed-off people I had ever met. Usually her gaze was either accusing or angry. I couldn’t blame her after all she had been through, but it was nice to be able to look at her without fearing her wrath.

  She was beautiful with her features relaxed and with trust on her face. It caught me by surprise to realize it and I must have stared at her longer than I planned because she opened one eye and gave me a skeptical look.

  “Are we doing this?” she asked with an edge to her voice.

  I nodded quickly and closed my eyes. “Just keep your mind open,” I said. “I’ll do the rest.”

  “How do I know if my mind’s open?” she asked.

  I opened my eyes and smiled at her concerned expression. “I have no idea. We’ll just give it a try.”

  “Alright,” she replied. She closed her eyes again.

  I shut my eyes and let out a slow breath, but my mind raced with thoughts of the sigil, the feeling of Dara’s hand in mine, and the thought that we were both missing breakfast. My stomach growled, reminding me that werewolves are fond of food. I counted to ten, willing my mind to clear. It was something Julianne had taught me to do whenever I got frustrated. It worked to calm my whirlwind of thoughts and let me concentrate.

  I found the memory I wanted and pushed it at Dara. I pictured the memory traveling down my arm and through my fingertips to where they rested in Dara’s hand. My fingers tingled as the memory passed from me to her. I felt Dara’s hand twitch in her surprise, then her movements stilled as the memory flowed over us both.

  The square with the half circle inside of it and three lines through it grew clear in my mind. It had indeed been written on a box in black marker. The box was cardboard and looked ordinary except for the sigil drawn on it. As I watched, the memory pulled back, allowing me to see more. My heart slowed as I recognized our attic at home. My father was there moving boxes to the far corner to make room for our Christmas decorations we had just put away.

  “I’ve never had the heart to get rid of these,” he was saying to Julianne. “I guess it’s silly.”

  She shook her head. “The boys will be happy to have some of Silvia’s things when they get older. You should keep them.”

  Julianne smiled at me as I played in Dad’s old box of G.I. Joes. He brought it out once in a while if Drake and I promised to keep track of the pieces and to be careful when we put the weapons in the soldiers’ hands so the fingers didn’t stretch out or break.

  “Who’s ready for dinner?” she asked.

  I jumped up. “I am!”

  “Last one to the table’s a rotten banana,” Drake called behind me.

  We raced down the ladder from the attic and ran toward the kitchen.

  The memory faded and then changed before I could take my hand from Dara’s. My fingers tightened when I saw the white room. The beeping sound that used to bother me was slower than usual. Then the beeping stopped entirely. The doctor used some sort of humming device. My mother’s body lurched and then settled on the bed again. Tears were streaming down my father’s face from the other side of the room. I held Drake’s hand as we both stood forgotten in the corner. The doctor met my father’s gaze and shook his head. Dad covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

  The memory faded and I dropped Dara’s hand. I put my bandaged one over my face before she could see the tears on my cheeks.

  “Finn, I can help,” she began.

  I shook my head without looking at her. “I can handle it,” I said. I hated that my voice cracked, betraying me. I had relieved the memory of my mother’s death more times than I could count, but it was harder after seeing her in the hallway and hearing her voice for the first time in twelve years.

  When I was four, I hadn’t understood what happened when she died. All I remembered was visiting her in the hospital after she got sick. It wasn’t until later that I found out she had been battling cancer and then contracted pneumonia. She had only lasted a few weeks after that. On the day we visited, Dad said she might be able to go home, but she took a hard turn for the worse.

  They should have had us leave when she started coughing, but everyone forgot about the two children in the corner in their rush to save our mother. I had asked Drake about it once, but he didn’t remember. The thought had given me some comfort even though I had woken up screaming for Mom for nearly six months afterwards.

  Dara set a hand on my arm. I wanted to push her away, to tell her to leave me alone, that she had seen something private I didn’t want anyone to know. Instead, I cried with my face in my hands and struggled to breathe past the massive sobs that tore through me, sobs I had never let myself cry since Drake told me he couldn’t remember and I decided I had to be strong for him.

  But seeing her there in the hallway had brought it all back, the longing of a little boy for his mother’s comforting touch, the need for her to be there during triumphs or failures at school, for her caring hands when I was sick, and for her smile, the same smile that came from eyes that matched my own and told me her rhyme for the clubhouse. The intensity of the pain at her loss was nearly unbearable in that moment.

  The pain softened. It was subtle and gentle as the jolt of agony lessened and I felt like I could breathe again. The sharp edges of the memory eased and the thought of her face no longer hurt with each heartbeat. I took a shuddering breath and opened my eyes. I found Dara’s gaze. Tears shone on her own cheeks and my sorrow showed in her eyes.

  “I never knew the love of a child for a mother could be so special,” she said. Her voice broke as more tears trailed down her cheeks.

  I shook my head, unable to speak. When I pulled my hand back, Dara let go with an understanding nod. I swallowed and forced myself to say, “It-it’s been a long time since I’ve thought about that day.”

  “You were so young,” she said.

  I nodded, collecting myself. “Too young to really understand what was happening then. But for some reason, when I showed it to you, I felt like I lost her all over again.” I wiped my face with my sleeve; I then held my sleeve out to her. “Need it?”

  She laughed and the musical sound lightened the mood. “I have my own, thank you,” she replied. She wiped her face with the hem of her shirt.

  We silently regained our composure. I felt embarrassed at crying in front of her. I was about to apologize for it when she said, “I think that’s the one thing about being an empath.”

  I looked at her, but she was staring down at her hands that were now resting in her lap.

  “As hard as it is to carry everyone’s pain, I get to understand and experience for a brief moment what it feels like to be loved even if it means to experience the pain of losing someone.” She looked up at me through lowered lashes. “It really is a gift that you just gave me.”

  “A gift that made you cry?” I replied. “That’s not a very good gift.” I lifted a hand and wiped a tear she had missed from her cheek.

  She smiled and pushed a strand of my unruly black hair from my forehead. “You continue to surprise me, Finnley Briscoe.”
>
  “I hope that a good thing, Dara Jade,” I replied, looking down at her.

  I had never kissed anyone, but in that moment, staring down into her seemly bottomless violet eyes, I couldn’t help myself. I leaned forward and brushed her lips with my own. It was a bold move that surprised me, and somewhere deep inside I felt the approval of my Alpha side. Dara’s head tipped up and she kissed me back. It was simple and brief, but enough to make my heart race when I sat back in my chair.

  I stared at her. “Dara, I—”

  She smiled at me. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  I shook my head slowly. “I don’t want you to think I showed you that to gain your sympathy or make you care about me.”

  She set her hand on my cheek. It was a gentle touch that surprised me. “I would never think that of you, Finn,” she said.

  I heard another bell ring and started at the reminder that we weren’t in our own little world. We had school, a team, and professors who would be waiting for us.

  “What?” she asked.

  “The bell rang,” I replied.

  She nodded and rose. “Time for breakfast.”

  “For first period, I’m afraid,” I said apologetically. “The breakfast bell rang a while ago.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I can wait until lunch to eat.”

  I nodded, but I my thoughts were on other things than class.

  She must have caught my expression because she asked, “What are you thinking?”

  I gestured toward the table. “I need to find that box.”

  “I’ll go with you,” she offered.

  I shook my head. “It’ll be faster if I go alone.” Before she could protest, I said, “Besides, I need someone to cover for me here. If the professors start asking, tell them I felt sick and that I’m just trying to sleep it off.” A thought occurred to me and I said, “Tell them it’s something werewolf related. That’ll kill their interest for sure.”

  Dara rolled her eyes at the suggestion. “You’re using their prejudice to your gain.”

  I shrugged. “Someone should. It might as well be me.”

  I followed her back up the slide. It was a strange sensation, sliding upward instead of down. It felt as though I pressed rewind on a movie. Climbing back down the invisible staircase was nearly as scary as climbing up. By the time we stepped on the roof, I was grateful for something solid and visible under my feet. “Any chance they made an invisible ledge around this roof in case we fall?” I asked as I balanced my way toward the window.

  “Want to be the first to find out?” Dara called over her shoulder.

  “No, thank you,” I replied with a laugh.

  I helped her through the window, then climbed in behind her. It felt nice to set my feet on a solid floor that was neither sloped nor invisible.

  The halls were silent as we made our way down the stairs. I paused on the third floor to grab some change and my cellphone.

  “Be careful, Finn,” Dara called as she hurried down toward her class.

  “You too,” I replied.

  I made my way to room C thirty-three and searched through my belongings. “You too?” I muttered to myself. “What does that mean? She told me to be careful and I say, ‘You, too?’ What, does she need to worry about papercuts or maybe school lunch?” When I thought about my first day at the Academy, I realized there were plenty of dangers Haunted High had to offer. Perhaps telling her to be careful hadn’t been too out of line. Still, I thought it was a stupid response.

  I couldn’t help thinking of our kiss as I pulled on a clean tee-shirt. Dara was the first girl I had ever kissed in my life. If anyone had told me that a sarcastic empath at a haunted high school would be the first person I kissed, I would have thought they were crazy. But standing there with my lips still tingling from the experience was another matter entirely. It was special. Or it was ridiculous. I couldn’t decide. Maybe Dara was just being sympathetic. Who wouldn’t comfort a werewolf who had just shown the memory of losing his mother. Well, actually I doubted anyone else at the Academy would have cared, but I told myself not to read too much into it.

  I shook my head and picked up my wallet. There were only a few dollars inside, but enough to get me home. I took the bills out and shoved them in my pocket. If whatever was in the box really could be a key to the demons, I wasn’t sure it was smart to let Dad know about it. My hope was to sneak in and sneak out without anyone knowing I was home. It would be easier that way. My heart tightened at the thought. I shoved it away and headed for the door.

  I glanced back once at the ghosts hovering around Alden’s bed, waiting for him to return from class. I still wasn’t used to them, but until we figured out how to get rid of the demon threat, I knew I didn’t have a choice but to tolerate their presence. Alden had tried everything his parents suggested, but still the ghosts hung around. The Grim didn’t seem bothered by it, but the students in the hallways gave him and the ghosts a wide berth when they walked by. It wasn’t fair to Alden, but he handled it well. He was tougher than anyone gave him credit for.

  I took one last look around the room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, then pulled the door shut behind me.

  One thing to be said about New York is that it wasn’t hard to find a bus heading in the direction I needed to go. I made my way to the furthest seat in the back and stared out the window at the buildings and cars rushing by. Though it was slower by bus, it was cheaper than a taxi. With Dad and Julianne at work and Drake at school, I really didn’t have other options. I realized I could have used the chance to catch up on some work from class, but I had forgotten my books. Instead, I let my mind wander and listened to the music playing faintly over the radio.

  Day changed slowly to night. It wasn’t until I felt the tremor run over my skin that I realized I had placed myself in a horrible position. Moonlight filled the bus. Most of the occupants were sleeping as they rode to their final destination. There were only about a dozen of us on the bus at the late hour, and most of them had gotten on when I did. No one else seemed bothered by the light of the moon that streamed plentifully inside.

  It had been too long since I phased. I could feel my control slipping. The wolf fought to be free like an itch that quickly turned into a burning need. I knew that if I didn’t act soon, I was going to phase in the backseat. I couldn’t imagine that the other inhabitants of the bus would react calmly when they realized one of their nameless companions had turned into a wild beast.

  My hands shook when I reached up to pull the red line that ran to the front of the bus. As soon as I pulled it, the driver’s head jerked up and he studied the occupants of the bus in his overhead mirror. I waved a hand.

  “You need to get off?” he said incredulously as he slowed the bus. “There’s nothing out here.”

  I rose and hurried up the aisle toward him. A few of the other bus occupants awoke and glared at me for causing a commotion, but I ignored them with the thought that if I phased in the middle of the aisle, there would be a whole lot more to disturb them.

  “This is my stop,” I said, practically running past the chairs.

  I reached the closed door.

  “I don’t feel right about letting you out,” the bus driver said with an anxious look outside. “It’s the middle of the night; only the moon is lighting anything around here right now.”

  If he mentioned the moon one more time, he was never going to be able to sleep again.

  It didn’t take much to bring out the Alpha in me. I looked him square in the eyes and said, “Let me out. Now.”

  I don’t know if he saw my eyes turn gold in the half-light of the bus or if my growl was enough to spur him into action, but he opened the door so fast I barely saw his hand move. I climbed outside and turned to say thank you, but the door snapped shut and the bus drove away. I had the distinct sensation that the bus driver couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Chapter Six

  The moonlight made me double over in pain. I ducked int
o the ditch at the side of the road and pulled off my shirt. Shoving my cellphone and the few dollars I had left inside, I tied the sleeves and made a quick pouch. I wished I had thought to bring a long-sleeved shirt or my backpack. I wasn’t sure if I could get a backpack on as a wolf, but the thought of arriving at home naked wasn’t a pleasant one.

  Another pain through my stomach reminded me that I had no choice in the matter anymore. I dropped to my knees and was about to stop fighting when I remembered Sparrow. I quickly held up my hand and touched the dragon gently.

  “Sparrow, I need you to wake up little girl. Come on!”

  She stirred as I gritted my teeth against the pull of my muscles.

  The little dragon yawned and then sleepily unwrapped herself from my wrist.

  Fear filled me. I didn’t know what the little dragon would do if I phased. I was afraid of scaring her and having her fly off into the darkness. If I lost her after all we had been through together in such a short while, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I should have left the dragon with Dara. I knew I sometimes got too wrapped up in what I was dealing with to think outside of a situation, but this time the sylph dragon was the one who could get hurt.

  I held her up so that we were at eye level.

  “Sparrow, I’m going to phase now. It might be scary, but I want you to wait for me. Don’t fly off and get lost out here.” I looked around, but we were in the middle of nowhere. I wasn’t exactly sure that I could even find my way home, not to mention track down a lost dragon. “Trust me, okay?” I pleaded.

  I set her gently on my shirt and moved it to the side so she wouldn’t be crushed by accident. The little dragon watched me patiently, her green eyes bright in the moonlight.

  I couldn’t put it off any longer. I let the pain pull me down and barely remembered to kick off my pants and underwear before the phase took over. My shoulders rolled, my hips rotated, and my bones and muscles shifted. Now that I wasn’t fighting it, the phase happened quickly. Black and silver fur ran down my neck and along my back, my ears moved upward and became pointed, and my nose and mouth elongated into a fang-filled muzzle.