Starfire (Grim Gate 2)

Like the lady with the black hair.

I have to find her, and I don’t care how cold it’s going to be tomorrow, I’m going back into the attic to search for more clues. There’s so much junk up there, something has to help me narrow down my search.

The group of ghost hunters all bundle up, and Ethan and I hang back, being the last to leave.

“I didn’t think about it before,” Ethan starts, voice low. “What if you were cursed and that’s why you’re seeing things only you can see.”

I turn, eyes lighting up. “You mean there could be another witch in Thorne Hill?”

“I feel like you’re missing the someone cursed you part.”

“Yeah, but if someone was able to curse me, then that means they’re a witch. Which means I’m not the only witch in town. And, if they’re more of us, then maybe I can find someone who knew my aunt and the school she taught at when I was a kid.”

“Again. They would have cursed you.”

“Which would be rude. I didn’t do anything to deserve being cursed.” I pull my purse up on my shoulder. “There is a curse-breaking spell in my book. It won’t hurt to cast it.”

“If you have what you need to cast it, you should it tonight.”

“I think I do. I ordered a lot of stuff a few weeks ago.”

“Good.” Ethan takes my hand as we cross the street and enter the library. We hang back, listening to the ghost hunters putting on the tour give a history of the building. It was used as a temporary hospital in the late 1800s and, though the records were lost, many people might have died. They go on to say how the librarians report strange sounds, cold spots, and find books they shelved on the floor. One time, books on the cart to be shelved got put away, all in the wrong sections. And the ghost of a little girl has been seen in the children’s section.

The story about the little girl, who died of polio in the 1950s, is interesting and definitely pulls on your heartstrings. I didn’t venture upstairs into the children’s section, so if she is there, it makes sense as to why I missed picking up on a presence. I turn to whisper my theory to Ethan and see him shoving half a donut in his mouth.

“You’re not supposed to eat in the library,” I hiss.

“I’m hungry,” he whispers back with his mouth full.

“We just ate.”

He just gives me a look and takes another bite of the donut. Pursing my lips to keep from laughing, I listen to the tour guides finish their speech. They divvy up the ghost hunting equipment. Ethan has an EMF meter in his pocket already, and I decline anything since I don’t need it. There’s a group of three women standing front and center, and one of them loudly tells us all they’re sensitive to spirits and have been seeing dark shadows moving throughout the bookshelves already.

Ethan and I exchange looks, both rolling our eyes. We move around the first floor and, I’ll admit, this place is creepy after hours. A lot of the lights have been turned off so people can take flash-photos in the hopes of catching an orb.

“Stop it,” I tell Ethan when he pulls another donut from the bag. “They’ll be none left for tomorrow morning.”

“We got a dozen. I’m only eating two.”

“For now.”

“Hunting makes me hungry.”

I raise an eyebrow. “This isn’t a real hunt.”

“Don’t let your guard down that easily,” he says. “Nine times out of ten, something like this is harmless, but when you get a bad feeling about something, leave. Don’t poke it with a stick.”

The woman claiming to sense spirits gasps, starting a few people and getting most of our attention.

“Something just grabbed me,” she dramatically exclaims. “I felt a hand on my shoulder.” She touches her shoulder, fingers trembling. “Feel this, Lisa. It’s ice cold!”

And once again, Ethan and I roll our eyes. This woman was in my line of sight. There were no ghosts anywhere to be seen.

“I gotta wonder,” Ethan muses. “Does she believe that happened or does she have no problem talking out of her ass?”

Rene and Keith duck out from behind a stack of books. “I’m going to say no problem talking out her ass,” Keith says and Ethan snickers.

“Even I have to agree.” Rene winces from her own words. I can tell she’s the type of person who wants to see a ghost because she needs the proof of the afterlife. People like her came in to get readings when I was working as a medium desperate to communicate with a lost loved one and to know they’re not actually gone.

I wonder who she lost.

“Have you gotten anything?” Rene asks me, looking into my hands. “Oh, you didn’t get any equipment?”