Ghosts of Averoigne

That much was true. Kara was amazed at how much heat the old cast iron radiator in the corner of room 207 was giving off. She didn’t see a thermostat either. Nor had she expected one.

“Want me to open the window?”

“No,” Kara said. “Fuck the window.”

Normally she’d sleep in her panties and a T-shirt. In this case, she’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants for good measure. Kara sank to the bed, ass-first. The mattress was old but firm, the way she liked it.

“Uh… that bed is kinda big,” Logan hinted. “You sure we can’t—”

“NO.”

It was hot. Way too hot to sleep.

This is bullshit, thought Kara. She’d abandoned the sweatpants long ago. For the last half hour she’d been staring up at the ceiling, wondering when the sun would come up. It was still very dark outside. She still had a few hours, but not many. And without any sleep…

She regretted telling Logan not to open the window. Right now she’d do just about anything for some fresh air. She debated calling out to him, asking him if he was asleep yet. But she also didn’t want to deal with him any more than was necessary.

You’re being an asshole again, she told herself. Or you’re being lazy. Just get up and—

A cool rush of wind tore through the room. Which was stranger than anything, because the window — and the door — were both securely closed.

“Logan?”

Somewhere in the shadows, her companion stirred. Or at least she thought he stirred…

No.

A shiver ripped down Kara’s spine. Her eyes locked on a sudden swirl of darkness at the foot of her bed. There was life there now. Motion.

That’s not Logan.

The swirling sped up and slowed down. Moving in some sort of cycle.

It’s not there, she told herself. It’s only a vision.

A ‘vision’… that’s what Kara had always called it anyway. Xiomara would reprimand for the term, because her precognitive episodes weren’t really visions at all. They were more recordings than anything else. Still…

This wasn’t one of her visions. Kara was almost certain of it. For one, the edges were all wrong. Plus, and maybe she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it just didn’t feel like one…

“Logan!” she whispered.

She heard him groan. As Kara looked on, the pulsing shadows coalesced into a shapeless, formless mass. It grew darker in color, then lighter again. And each time it did it, it became more opaque. More… substantial.

“LOGAN!”

Now he actually did stir. From the corner of her eye, she saw him uncoil himself from the tiny loveseat.

“Huh?”

“Do you see that?”

He stretched. Rubbed at his eyes. “What?”

“That!”

She pointed to the foot of the bed, where the unmistakable form a woman now stood. Or rather, she floated. Her form seemed wispy, even ethereal, but not entirely. It was difficult to make out the details, but it appeared she wore a long flowing dress…

“Do you see her?” Kara hissed. She was desperate for confirmation. Determined to know whether what she was seeing was an actual apparition, or if she were only experiencing one of her precognitive episodes. “Tell me you see her!”