by Viola Grace
Ulysses asked, “How do you do that?”
Hecate shrugged. “I don’t know. I have always been able to put some of myself into stones and save it for later.”
“What kind of stones?”
“Granite. This area is an eluvial plain, so there are plenty of large chunks that have fallen into the soil. There is a huge coil of stones just under the surface. It makes it the perfect holding area for the ghosts I find.”
He frowned. “I simply cut mine free of this earth.”
“Do you travel around doing that?” It suddenly occurred to Hecate that he was the ghost hunter that the Sister had been worried about.
“Of course. We can’t keep all the ghosts around. The living would be drained dry.”
She opened the book in her lap and focused on not punching the only male relative she had ever seen. As weak as she was, it was an intense urge that only a distraction could subdue.
Chapter Eight
She flipped through the pages. “What are these?”
“I don’t think your sister needs to know.” Ulysses cleared his throat.
Esmy looked pained. “Fine. I can keep myself busy until you are done.”
“Esmy, please sit. If this is a family affair, it is better that you know what is going on in case anything happens to me on the way.” Hecate looked at her and smiled.
“It is only for the heir to know.”
“Well, the heir is usually the eldest, Esmerelda is the eldest. So, she should be in on this conversation.”
Esmy slowly sat down, and they turned to their grandfather.
Hecate asked, “So what is this? I know it is hot, but the format is a spell book. We don’t do magic, do we?”
“You can feel the energy coming out of it?”
“I can. It is warm, but more like the heat of a red ghost and not anything that I can use.”
He smiled. “That is exactly what it is. I see them as orange, but when you release a hot ghost, they become a page in the book.”
“What do you mean, release?” She got a little nervous.
“When I sever their connection to this world, and they disappear.”
“Not when you break them apart and turn them to ash?”
His eyes grew wide. “Is that what you do?”
“It is. I have only run into sixteen of them in the last few years, but each one has had to be torn to pieces and dispersed, piece by piece. I wouldn’t dare release any of them.”
“Sixteen?”
She nodded.
“Please count the pages in the grimoire.”
“The book?”
“The Wakeman Grimoire. It is a family book that appears when a new Wakeman is born. It was populating with pages, and that is how I knew that there was an heir here in Canada.”
Esmy nodded. “And you thought it was me. I am the firstborn.”
“Correct. Hecate, why do you destroy the red ghosts so completely?”
She gave him a blank look. “They come back. If you don’t protect the original victim and destroy the red ghost, they return as soon as they are able, and they drive the haunted person to death. It is like they have to pay for something with a soul.”
Ulysses leaned back against his chair, his cane held in one hand, and even his hat suddenly looked tense. “You figured that out without anyone telling you. You speak with the ghosts as if they were living. You have completed more training by instinct than your father could absorb in his initial decade. He always thought there had to be a magical component to our work.”
“No. I have recently had it confirmed that we don’t have anything involving magic, or at least I don’t. I am made of will and spirit in a people casing.”
Ulysses frowned. “Who told you that?”
“A new acquaintance that I trust. She had heard of ghost hunters before but had never met one.”
Esmy’s eyes went wide, and there was a slight smile on her lips. “You passed the test, by the way.”
Hecate chuckled. “It was a near thing when the pixies showed up, but I made it. You are very lucky in your new family.”
Ulysses perked up. “What is this? New family?”
“Ah, I am getting married, Grandfather.”
“You can’t. Not until we do a full examination into his family history to make sure that there is no paranormal creature lurking in the shadows.” He stomped his cane to the ground.
Hecate sighed.
Esmy cleared her throat. “He is a paranormal creature. He’s a werewolf. His mother is a mermaid, his father is a werewolf, and they are all members of the Nexus Guard.”
“You can’t. I forbid it!” He slammed the cane again.
Hecate looked at him, and she spoke calmly. “Relax, Ulysses. You have no rights here. By your own admission, pages have been appearing in the book for years, and you never bothered to seek out your heir. Do you understand that it means you are handing over a family duty to someone you didn’t consider to be family?”
He looked at her and exhaled. “You have a point. Can we consider this the first discussion of a series? I need to return to my hotel. Esmerelda, if you could bring me back to the city? Please?”
Esmy nodded. “I will. But I want to be here for any further discussions. Understood?”
“Yes, child. I understand. Hecate, please read through the book and see if the spells are familiar to you. Each one was generated when you took down those specific ghosts.”
“I understand it, but I don’t know what you want from me.”
He looked at her with sad eyes. “I need you to take over the family position. There is only ever one of us in full power at any given time. Or there were. You are the first one to run in parallel with any of us. You are to be the newest ghost hunter.”
“I am a ghost extractor. No matter their status, I remove them and keep the living safe. After that, things get weird.”
Esmy chuckled. “Are you feeling better?”
“I will grab the hot food out of the oven, and I will be on my way. By dawn tomorrow, I will be back in fighting form.” She gave her sister a hug and didn’t let their skin touch. Esmy grabbed her hand and made a tutting sound.
“Stay relaxed, keep warm, get back to work.”
Hecate took Ulysses’ hand and squeezed it. “It was nice to meet you. I know Dad would have been happy about it.”
“I know he would have wanted me nowhere near you, but that is another matter. I will see you soon, Hecate.”
Esmy took him back to the car, and he turned to wave before he got inside.
Hecate watched, and they slowly drove away. She could smell the food in the oven, and she collected it, returning to her porch, and eating thoughtfully while she sat.
Amber took the seat next to her, and she whistled softly. “So, you inherited this.”
“Sort of. I think my father came back to have me in order to spare Esmy the burden of the job.”
“How did he know that would work?”
Hecate picked up the book and thumbed through it, recognizing most of the evil in it by the effect of the spell. “I think he knew it would work because he made a deal with a devil.”
She looked through the book with one hand and ate her food with the other. Amber’s silence spoke volumes.
When the teen finally got her wits together, she said, “Why would you say that?”
“Because he told me. He didn’t want an eldest son, so he made what he thought was a fair deal. He would let a few of the reds slip past him, and his line would turn female. I always thought that it was what he told my mother on that last night, but she says no.”
“Wait, how did you speak with him? When?”
“All hallows eve when I turned thirteen. I tried to tell everyone that I could see spirits walking everywhere, but they ignored me, and I was soon in therapy, but I did meet my father on that day. He came to me at his grave, and we had a nice chat.”
“All ha
llows eve?”
“The day after Halloween. Even humans can see ghosts of loved ones that day if they want to.” She grimaced. “Very few folk in North America bother.”
“So, my mom can see me without you there on that day?”
Hecate wrinkled her nose. “Not unless I send you there. You and the others here are locked onto me. Well, locked to the property within the terms of your confinement. I will ask Thessa if she wants to go to your grave, but I think she would rather see you here.”
Amber nodded. “I agree. She doesn’t like my grave.”
Hecate looked at the most recent page. The spell would craft uncontrollable rage in the target. That did seem to have been what Becky was wrapped in.
She frowned. She flipped to the page of drowning. She remembered him. He had waited for folks on lover’s lane and then drowned them by short-circuiting their nervous system. One by one, he killed young men who were shy and out for a safe moment with the one they loved.
He was one of the only hauntings that she had attended, where he kept the other ghosts from leaving.
She had taken him apart with knife and whip, freeing his victims too late to save their lives but soon enough to let them give their families closure. It was one of the odd things about ghosts, but sometimes, the presence was healing.
“Huh. The more I look at these, the more I think they were cast on the people that ended up as the ghosts. I don’t know if they were bespelled before or after death, but these are all behaviour-altering spells. It’s weird.”
“Keep eating. You still look chalky.”
She snorted and finished the food and another cup of coffee. “I always look chalky.”
“Yes, but today you look ill. You haven’t looked ill since I got here.”
“I always look like this the day after a red ghost. It takes all of my energy to get them where I want them, and then, I have to use the whip to take them apart.”
“How did you come up with the whip?”
Hecate looked out over the complete tranquility of her property. Her home. “It was an accident. I was thirteen or fourteen, and I felt waves of heat coming out of a warehouse.”
“You went in?”
“Of course, I did. There was either something on fire or something ghost-related. I didn’t see or smell any smoke, and no one else noticed, so I went into the building and went looking for the source of the heat. That is what was pulling me in. I found the burning column of ghost in the center of the room, and I asked him if everything was all right.”
She exhaled and shivered at the memory. “He screamed the word ‘lies’ at me and reached out to grab me. He seemed shocked that he was able to make contact, and he pushed me back.”
“I fell down. Hard. He came toward me, and I grabbed around for anything to defend myself with. The look in his eyes was not a nice look. I grabbed, and my hand closed over a broken piece of extension cord. When my fingers closed over it, ghost energy ran down it. I lashed out, and the whip wrapped around his neck. I pulled, and the head exploded. The body was still coming toward me, so I used the new whip on the legs, one by one, and then, I kept going on the arms and torso until there was nothing left but a smoking outline on the filthy floor. I got up and limped home. The cord had left a burn on my hand.” She held up her right hand and traced the silvery line.
Amber looked concerned. “What did your mother say when you got home?”
“It was fine. I took a hot shower and went to bed.”
“What did she say?”
Hecate sighed. “She asked me what had happened, and I told her it was a ghost. She slapped me across the face, and I went to take my shower. Not a lot of words ever passed regarding the hauntings that I found.”
Amber’s ghostly mouth was hanging open. “She hit you?”
“She did,” Hecate explained. “My stepfather considered seeing ghosts akin to witchcraft, so if I didn’t talk about it, he didn’t need to know about it.”
Amber frowned. “It still seems unfair.”
“If my father had still been alive, he would have taken on his father’s position as ghost hunter, and I might never have had to step up for this. But if my father had lived, Esmy would have been enough of an heir. He would be alive, and she wouldn’t inherit his spot until she was well over forty.”
“Where would you be?”
“I would never have been necessary.”
Amber didn’t speak after that. There was nothing else to be said.
Chapter Nine
Hecate stood at the bridge and watched the ducks do laps on the surface of the pond. When she heard the footsteps approaching her, she looked up to see a familiar face, and to her disappointment, who it was.
“Hecate Wakeman, as I live and breathe.” Demler Iskowitz was smiling at her with his charming leer.
“Dem. Good to see you again. Are you out looking for vulnerable teens again?” She turned her gaze back to the ducks.
“I keep telling you that it was a mistake.”
“It was almost a mistake. Glad I saw sense in time. What has you oozing around the park?”
He chuckled. “No insults will put me off. I am here to offer you an opportunity that only comes around once in a lifetime.”
She gave him a sideways glance. “No.”
“You haven’t heard the offer yet.”
“Still, no.”
“Wouldn’t you love to be free of your family curse of tending to the deceased?”
She froze and slowly turned to face him. “What do you know about that?”
“People talk. I know it is a rough gig. I can free you from it with just the flick of your fingers. All you have to do is sign.”
She looked at his darkly handsome good looks. His skin was perfect, hair in place, waving thickly back from his forehead. His rich brown eyes held her own gaze, and his thick lashes gave the appearance of makeup.
She casually reached out and touched his wrist. She did a quick search and then released his arm. “I thought so.”
She wiped her hand on her jeans out of reflex.
“What was that?”
Hecate looked at him calmly. “So, you sold your soul for something. Maybe good looks, maybe health, but you are in a body with no spirit.”
He smiled slowly. “What if I didn’t sell my soul?”
She stepped back. “Then, you aren’t and have never been human.”
“And they said you weren’t quick. Sign, and you will be free of your ghost obligations. Your father didn’t hesitate to give up the ghost hunting while he was alive.”
She swallowed. “You knew my father?”
“I am not quite as young as I look. Your father gave up his heritage in an instant for the chance at a normal life with a normal child. I must confess you were a bit of a surprise.”
Understanding hit her like a thunderbolt. She turned and began walking to the restaurant where she was meeting Xander and Abby.
“I will ask you again later, shall I?”
She turned and growled. “I will not now, nor will I ever, give up what I am.”
Crimson flared in his eyes, and she snorted through her nose. “Right. Of course, you are at the bottom of that. Remember, when your little projects die, and they will, I will tear them apart rather than let them continue to hurt those around them.”
“We have both learned something today. I will see you again, Hecate. We are fated to meet over and over again.”
His smug face made her want her whip, but she hadn’t brought it with her.
She flipped him off and walked to the café. She was hoping for some far better news from the Nexus and her husband.
Abby was looking around, and she smiled. “I have been here dozens of times, and yet I think this is the first time I have been in the café.”
Xander grinned. “She wants to head into the zoo next to play that phone game.”
Hecate chuckled. “I hear it’s fun.”
Xander pitched in, “It clears her mind too much. She’s addicted, and I have to hide her phone.”
Hecate smiled and ordered a cup of tea and a squash soup.
She looked at Xander, and he smiled. “We found something. I would have brought you the scroll, but the archivist refuses to let anything that old leave her custody.”
Abby nodded. “That is why we met here. Xander can send you to the archive, and the archivist will send you home. He just has to give you an amulet to transport you.”
She blinked. “Now? Here?”
Abby shook her head. “No, make the transport from a place comfortable and familiar. If you ask the archivist politely, she will put you back at the same time that you left.”
Xander slid over the amulet and gave her swift instructions on how to use it.
By the time the tea arrived, she had the amulet around her neck and tucked under her shirt.
“So, what happened before you got here? You had quite an expression on your face.” Abby asked as Hecate dipped into her soup.
“Have you ever met a demon?” She asked it boldly.
Xander nodded slowly. “I have. Did you run into one?”
“I almost dated one. It was about five years ago, and he was very determined. It wasn’t enough for him to stop trying to lure nineteen-year-olds into an orgy, but reading those messages on his phone when he was in the can was enough for me.”
Xander blinked. “I never got that close. How did you get away?”
“I just left and refused his calls. I already had an attachment to my new property. He couldn’t get in, not that he knew where it was.”
Xander cleared his throat. “When did you find out he was a demon.”
“Five minutes before I came through those doors.” She didn’t mention the interference with her father. If she could ask the archivist, the woman might give her an answer.
Abby asked, “How was the soup?”