Read Cassie (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #3) Online
Authors: Virginia Hunter
Tags: #Top 10 Paranormal Romance, #sorcery, #Sex, #Dark fantasy, #Demon, #Paranormal Romance, #Steamy, #Urban Fantasy, #Warlock, #Thriller, #shapeshifter, #fantasy, #Wizard, #Magic, #Witch, #shifter, #mage
“I hate this place!” the blonde boy screamed. His mother continued her attempts to calm him, but to no avail. Promises of ice cream, toys, and a movie did nothing. The woman was doomed.
“Why so upset?” Maggie pouted. She tapped the end of Billy’s nose with the tip of her finger. A powdery cloud of greenish mist encased the boy’s face and head. He blinked away the fairy dust, then opened his eyes wide in surprise at seeing the old ghost floating next to him. Maggie signaled for him to follow as she drifted away in the direction of the tour.
Paige breathed a sigh of relief.
You’re a lifesaver, Maggie
. She quickly walked up to Billy’s mother who stood, mouth agape, staring at her child as he skipped happily toward the rest of the group. “Mam, are you okay?”
The woman snapped out of her stunned silence, and looked at Paige with a touch of disbelief still in her eyes. “I’m fine, thank you.” She hurried after her son.
Paige followed close behind the lagging pair. She smiled. Being a medium came in handy on occasion. After she’d gotten use to the initial shock of being able to see and talk with spirits, Paige had put the ability to good use and honed her skill over the years of constant practice. Necropolis by Night had made it all possible. For the most part anyway. The company gave tours at night; walking the significant historical areas of the witch trials Salem was famous for. The exposure to such a strong spiritual presence had opened the door to her learning and experimentation with the denizens of the afterlife. Even in the off season at the museum where she worked, spirits would linger, giving her plenty of subjects to converse with.
Her “ability” gave her an edge over the other tour guides as well. Most of them dressed up like old-time Quakers, and even went as far as to act out some of the witch trials, with actresses hired to play the role of the condemned. A lot of the tourists got into that sort of thing, but deep down, they all hoped to see something that would be impossible to explain. They wanted to see or feel something Paige could provide. They all wanted a taste of the supernatural, and she was about to give this group a mouthful.
The Burying Point cemetery her group had gathered near was the finale of her tour. There were always spirits hovering among the maze of tombstones and twisted trees, and most of them tended to be on the grouchy side. Paige never wanted any of her clients getting hurt, so she avoid angry spirits, but the pranksters and obnoxious ones did the trick every time.
Paige made her way to the front of the group, stepping over the low, stone wall that ran along the property’s entire perimeter. She was pleased to see that a healthy fog had settled on the grass, giving the place that traditional eerie ambiance. “This is the last part of our tour, and definitely the best. If you’ll look over my shoulder...” Paige continued her rehearsed dialogue as she scanned the cemetery for her spectral friends. There were quite few of them out and about this evening, which was good, but she was looking for one in particular. He was a tall drip of a guy that called himself “The Duck”. Why he’d chosen that name Paige had no idea, but his easy manner and mischievous nature were the perfect fit for tonight’s climax. His outward appearance was like any average twenty-something, with brown hair that was parted to the side. The dark suit and tie he’d been buried in didn’t really match his easy going personality. It was as if his parents had been trying to make a good last impression. Jeans and a t-shirt would have been more fitting.
She finally found him slinking around the Carpenter family headstones. It wasn’t his standard hangout, but there were a lot of ghosts out tonight, so the place was pretty cramped. Spirits generally gravitated to one or two physical locations, any more than that and their presence tended to fade. Not that they couldn’t move from place to place, it just took a lot of effort for them to maintain themselves in unfamiliar territory, or so she’d been told.
“Duck,” Paige reached out with her mind to the lanky ghost. “I need ya, man. I’ve got a special guest that requires some scaring.”
The Duck perked up at her summons. Upon seeing her, he blinked out of sight, and then appeared right in front of her. “Hey, hotstuff.”
Paige stuttered part of her monologue from the shock.
I hate it when they do that
. Recovering she said, “You’re all welcome to walk the perimeter, but please, not on the grass.”
Duck snickered in her ear. “You’re too easy.”
“And you’re a jerk,” Paige said out of the side of her mouth as she smiled at the tourists. “I’m not the one who needs scaring.”
“Still fun though.” Duck sighed. “So, who’s the lucky victim?”
“See the boy with Maggie?” She nodded in the pair’s direction.
Duck rubbed his hands together. “I just love making children cry.”
“Not the kid,” Paige corrected. “The douche bag just in front of them, the kid’s father.”
“Dark rimmed glasses?”
“That’s the one.”
“On it,” Duck whispered, as he disappeared.
The tour group spread out along the various cobblestone paths, studying the many headstones, none-the-wiser that ghosts surrounded them. Paige kept her eyes on the little family that had a dickhead for a dad. Maggie continued to whisper in Billy’s ear, and even held his hand as they moseyed through the low hanging fog. Paige was surprised to see Maggie expend such effort to comfort the boy. Being seen by the living was no small feat for the dead, let alone actually making physical contact. Spirits with a lot of focus generally possessed the kind of power it took to pull off the kinds of things Maggie was doing. Anger, unfortunately, was the most dominant emotion that provided fuel for the focus needed to breach the barriers between the living and the dead. That’s why most of the spirits lingering in this graveyard couldn’t or wouldn’t communicate with those of flesh and blood; it took too much effort, and they weren’t pissed off enough to care anyway. Maggie and Duck were some of the few spirits that hadn’t turned into malicious apparitions, using hatred and rage to make their presence known. They drew their power from a different source. They used love; the love of what they do. For Maggie it was all about the children, for Duck it was about getting his rocks off (which he was about to do). Regardless, whether a spirit used love or anger, it still cost them. Paige knew she wouldn’t see either Maggie or Duck for a couple of weeks after tonight. The effort would rob them of their power to manifest, even for Paige.
The Duck’s hand came out of the ground near Billy’s father. The ghostly hand tapped the man’s black shoe, releasing tendrils of greenish mist that coiled around his foot and up his pant leg. The mist continued upward until finally reaching the man’s nostrils. He sucked in the green gas unawares, and moved on to the next headstone.
“I liked your tour,” a young woman said from behind Paige. “It was very informative, and fun.”
Paige turned away from the graveyard, and The Duck’s antics to face her admirer. “Thank you so much.”
The woman was a tall, striking Native American. Her high cheekbones complimented the oval shape of her dark eyes, while jet black hair framed her face neatly in an A-frame cut. “Do you by chance offer your services to people with ‘supernatural’ problems?”
Paige blinked. “I’m not sure what you mean?”
The Native American woman smiled. “You can talk with spirits, and see them too. I require the assistance of someone with your skills.”
“I think you may have the wrong person. I can’t see spirits, lady,” Paige lied. Experience had taught her that revealing her power was generally a bad idea. Most people didn’t handle it well. How this woman knew what she could do was a little disturbing to say the least, and her flight response kicked into high gear. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to finish up here.”
“I’ll wait.”
Paige pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Look, I can’t help you with whatever it is you’re dealing with. I can’t talk to, or see ghosts.”
A scream of terror filled the cemetery, stealing everyone’s attention. Billy’s father sprinted past the tombstones as if he were on fire. His high pitched screeching stemmed from the fact that he had an assortment of giant, insect-like apparitions clinging to his head, shoulders and torso. The terror stricken man galloped past Paige and the Native American beauty without a second glance. The other patrons looked on in shock as Billy’s father continued down the street, flailing at creatures that no one else could see.
Paige snickered. “Never seen him use those before.”
“Crater mites,” the Native American woman said. “Nasty beasts if they cross over.”
“Really? I’ve never seen one do—” Paige slapped a hand over her mouth. The woman had totally tricked her into blabbing. “You did that on purpose.”
The smile that spread across the tall woman’s face spoke more of her deception than words could have. “Can we talk?”
“Maybe,” Paige drawled. “How did you see those phantoms when no one else can?”
“I could ask the same of you,” she retorted. “You know that isn’t an easy question to answer.”
Paige frowned. She knew full well how difficult it was to explain her power. It was easier to just keep a lid on it. “Are you a medium, like me?”
“Sadly no, but I can see the spirit world.”
Paige’s curiosity was perked, but she had a tour to finish. “We can talk when I retrieve Billy’s dad, and wrap up this tour.”
The Native American woman nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’m Nova Walker by the way.”
“Paige Eastick,” she replied. “See you at the shop, Necropolis by Night.” She didn’t wait for a response as she turned to her tour group. “I hope you all enjoyed the tour. If you’ll follow me back to the shop, I have gift cards for everyone, and a survey if you have time.”
Most of the tour group followed her back, and hung around the gift shop for a few minutes. Billy and his mother were already there when Paige arrived. Maggie was saying goodbye to the little boy while his mother comforted the distraught father.
“They were all over me...” he was saying as Paige went in the front door. She couldn’t stifle the smile that crept across her face. No long-term good might come from The Duck’s little scare, but it sure did wonders for her mood. It was always good to see a douchebag get a humbling.
Paige went about tidying up the store as the last few patrons meandered out the door. She hoped Nova actually showed. After getting over the initial shock of being found by another person who could see, Paige was actually looking forward to the meeting. There were so many questions that needed answering. She hoped the Native American woman could fill in some of the blanks that had been plaguing her over the past few years. More than that however, it would be nice to have someone to talk to about the things she’d experienced. There had been only one other person Paige had found that possessed the ability to interact with the spirit world, and that poor man had been driven insane because of it. Nothing good had come from that meeting, and had actually put her off from communicating with spirits for half a year. A shiver went down her spine from the memory of seeing the poor man huddled in the corner, drooling on himself.
That won’t be me
.
She locked up the shop and headed toward her car to wait for Nova, only to find the tall beauty leaning against the front fender. “Glad you made it,” Paige said, barely able to contain her excitement. “Do you wanna get some coffee or something?”
Nova hesitated. “I can’t, sorry. But if you have a few minutes to talk...”
Oh, hell. I’ve already crossed the awkwardness line,
Paige thought. “Sure.” She took a spot next to Nova and crossed her arms, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Like I said before, I need your help,” the Native American woman said without skipping a beat. Her calm demeanor cracked a little as she continued, “Actually, my brother needs your help.”
“I’m not sure I can really help,” Paige replied with a shrug. “I mean, I interact with spirits, sure, but otherwise I’m just a tour guide.”
Nove came away from the car. “You’re so much more than that. You possess real power.”
Paige frowned and shook her head. “How do you even know that?”
The tall woman bit her lip. “I just can.”
“Ya see, this is the kinda thing I’ve been hoping to find; a person that has the same issues I have.” Excitement tickled the back of Paige’s neck, and she began pacing. “We could learn from each other, or help each other learn stuff--”
“I can’t,” Nova interrupted.
Paige stopped in her tracks. “Why? Do I smell or something.” She sniffed her underarm, adding to the snark, and then drained the humor from her face entirely. “Or am I just not good enough?”
Nova raised her hands. “It’s not like that. It’s me. I can’t help you the way you’re hoping I can.”
“Well that makes two of us then.” Paige crossed her arms again. It was a shitty thing to say, but she was frustrated, and wasn’t in the mood to play nice.
Nova dropped her hands with a look of despair. “Please. We need your help.”
Paige sighed, she hated being the asshole. “Maybe, but you gotta give me something in return.”
“I can, and I will,” Nova promised, life coming back into her eyes.
“I’m not talking
just
money either,” Paige said hastily. “I want some information about what we can do.”