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Authors: Yolanda Sfetsos

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BOOK: Split at the Seams
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Maybe it was someone who’d decided to carry on with his legacy, or the Council itself had taken this on as a personal crusade.

When I was finished, Oren stared out the windshield.

I wondered where Papan was. As much as I secretly hoped to catch up with him before he left, I knew it wasn’t going to happen. As soon as the waning moon hit the sky later on—enticing the werewolves of the world to change and give in to their animal side—he would heed to its call.

“Well, what do you think?” Oren was taking so long to answer I was starting to doubt my own sanity. As much as these spook catching cases we’d tackled were keeping me temporarily occupied, I couldn’t shake Benita’s sprawled and bleeding body. My mind played tricks on me, flashing so it looked like Ebony, and then me.

If the beast had his way, I was going to end up the same way. No, probably worse.

“It makes some odd sense,” he finally said.

“Really?” I stopped at the red light and turned to glance at him. “You don’t think it sounds crazy?”

“No, I don’t.” Oren shook his head. “Parapsychology is not a branch of the supernatural. They are scientists who spend their lives disproving different facets of the supernatural by applying science to it. Their explanations are scientific and well respected. They’re not charlatans who like to parade ghosts and the like around for others to see. Yet, that’s exactly what this man did. By trying to prove something with his science, he ended up proving spirits actually exist and live on after death.” Oren paused for a moment. “I actually studied Professor Spooker when I first met Pepita, because I wanted to understand more about her world. Spooker hadn’t revealed his theory back then, but he’d studied the phenomena for many years beforehand.”

“What happened to him?”

“After one of the greatest discoveries of all time, he stepped away from the limelight and into the shadows. Although it was because of him that so much was pioneered, all he ever wanted was to be taken seriously in the scientific field, which he never was. He became a recluse and suffered a lot of ridicule after his discovery.”

“That’s tragic.” I said, driving on.

“Very tragic, and no one actually knows what happened to him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he disappeared shortly after he outed ghosts, and was never found.”

“Why couldn’t he just be happy with what he’d discovered?” In my opinion, he did the world a huge service. How many years did people tell ghost stories to scare each other, without realizing it was all fact? Or how many girls were labeled insane because they claimed to have seen a dead relative inside their home? I could only imagine how many spook catchers had been accused of witchcraft because of their talent. How many were executed during the inquisition and witch trials around the world?

This man’s discovery in the twentieth century helped a lot of girls live almost normal lives, instead of being institutionalized. My own parents had considered doing the same to me. Professor Spooker should’ve been praised, not scorned.

“Most scientists called him a hack. He was considered a fraud who never managed to show the world what ghosts really looked like.” Oren paused for a moment. “Proving something only a small percentage of the population can see is hard enough, without it being done by a man of science.”

“But poltergeists manifest so violently. We might not see them, but we can certainly see the objects they propel.” I bit down on my lip. I had visited plenty of places with active poltergeists, and when one was present there was no denying it. There was even a home for poltergeists—since most of them happened to be teenagers and kids. “What about us? The spook catchers see ghosts, and his own daughter was one. Why wasn’t that enough?”

“Sierra, it still wasn’t proof for the mass population. Most people don’t believe what they can’t see and touch.”

He was right about that. “So you agree with me, someone could still be trying to prove his theory and trying to find a way to show the rest of the world?”

“And that might be why they need you.”

“What?”

“Think about it, Sierra. If the Spook Catcher Council is trying to mess around with other girls to pierce into the ghostly patch, tapping into you would get them exactly what they need.”

“What’s that?” I often wondered why the Council thought I was so powerful. How did they know for sure? Of course, if anyone would know, it was them. They tested every single catcher who went through their rigorous training. My readings must have set off a red flag, even if they didn’t know I had witch blood in me.

Either way, it was enough to make my skin crawl.

Oren took his time answering. “The evidence to finally give Professor Spooker the recognition he always felt he deserved.”

“Isn’t it too late?” Surely he’d passed away years ago.

“Not if they manage to yank him out of the ghostly patch and show him his life work wasn’t in vain.”

I thought for a moment. “It doesn’t sound like something the Council would care enough about.”

“It’s just a theory.”

I had a feeling we might be on to something, but there was no way the Spook Catcher Council would be screwing around with the ghostly patch in order to help a professor prove his lifelong ambition long after his death. No, they had another plan. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

 

 

Hours later, night had fallen on Sydney and Oren’s words still echoed inside my mind.

The last three cases I’d looked into actually garnered one more disappearing act and two spooks, each refusing to leave two different properties after causing extensive physical damage. They’d given the residents plenty of trouble, but not me. I caught them off guard. They each had so much fun being invisible and toying with the two different families that when I came along, it threw them off.

Most of the time, ghosts don’t know how to deal with someone like me because they’re so used to not being seen. Only the ones that actually want human help can become fixated on a catcher. These types of spooks usually hover around crime scenes, cemeteries and hospitals.

It didn’t take long to secure each spook inside a different canister, but each of the last three cases had taken us all over Sydney, gobbling up the hours. Now, I needed to deposit them into my office safe, which meant that out of all the cases I’d taken with me, we’d at least gotten a worthwhile payment on two. Telling someone their ghost was no longer there was just a standard booking fee most had already paid, but removal wasn’t.

I parked right in front of my office building and switched off the headlights. This time of night made it a hell of a lot easier to find a spot. If only it was this easy all the time.

While staring at the familiar boxy, red-brick building I realized something looked different about it. I couldn’t help but stare at the bottom level. Knowing someone had died inside, and it had been my fault, made me queasy. Benita’s ghost might not be lingering, but I could feel the weight of my guilt darkening the entire block.

I wondered why the Council would really be trying to physically prove the theories of the parapsychologist responsible for our facet of the world being in the open, and also try to pull him back into this patch. It wasn’t possible to prove this to the main population, or made any real sense. I’d never heard of anyone being able to do such a thing, or be crazy enough to attempt it. Though, it would explain why they were putting the lives of so many young girls at risk. What were a few spook-catcher sacrifices compared to their ultimate goal?

The Council would eventually pay their respects to their families, hand over a substantial payment for their silence, and no one would know the awful truth. But I still couldn’t shake the foreboding because the Council had to have some selfish ulterior motive for all of this. I just needed to work out what it was.

“I’ll go into the building with you,” Oren said, still sitting in the passenger seat even though I’d told him I would be just fine.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Okay, Sierra, I won’t push. You know what you’re doing.” He took his time to get out of the car, waved goodbye and walked away.

Peering into the rearview mirror, I sighed. Oren might have left the car, but he stood at the corner lost in shadows, waiting for me to make my way into the building.

To be honest, although I’d told him I would be fine, maybe having some company would help keep my mind off how much I was going to miss Papan. I really enjoyed having him stay with me, and just when we’d reached a nice place that I wanted to explore and see where it led, he had to go and do his wolf thing. He’d be gone for two nights, and I would be nervous the whole time. Wondering if Vixen had finally tracked him down, or if he’d had second thoughts about everything we’d admitted to each other, and decided he didn’t want or need the complication.

Always doubting everything…

Of course, I had more than enough to occupy my time in between—with a feral dog trying to kill me, the Council hoping to snag me for their own sick game of show and tell, and an ex who probably wasn’t honest with me from the start.

Yeah, I’ve got plenty to keep me busy.

No point in procrastinating. I had to get the canisters upstairs, and head home. Well, after I tried to find the missing letter opener.

Papan said he’d leave me a premade pizza in the fridge that only required twenty minutes in the oven, so I already had plans for dinner.

Hot and domestic, I definitely had to keep him.

I couldn’t help but smile at my own wisecrack. Leaning over the driver’s seat, I grabbed all of the folders and stuffed them into the duffel bag with the two canisters. They buzzed with energy and one of them gave me a tiny electric shock.

Stepping out onto the road, I paused to look around. Oren was still at the corner, so I quickly slammed the door, shouldered my bag and ran for the front of the building, waving at him as I moved.

The door was locked, and I was grateful. The thought of finding someone waiting inside wasn’t impossible, but less likely if the police made sure the building was locked tight before they left. I grabbed the correct key and stuck it into the lock.

“Hey.”

A plume of smoke spread over my face and I coughed, jumping because I hadn’t expected anyone to sneak up on me. “Shit, what the hell are you doing hiding in the dark?”

Conrad blew another cloud of smoke in my face and grinned. “I wasn’t hiding. You really didn’t see me, did you? Looks like I’ve still got it.”

This guy was so annoying, how did Ebony put up with him?

“Sierra, is everything all right?”

Great, Oren had joined the party.

I managed a nod and turned to look at him. “Everything’s fine. It’s just Conrad, trying to give me a heart attack.”

Vamp Boy snorted, flicking some ash onto the sidewalk.

Oren stared at him, as if waiting for a response.

“Chill, old man, I’m not here to hurt her. Gee, why are you both wound up so tight all the time?” Conrad was wearing faded black jeans and a leather jacket. Underneath, I could see a white wife-beater revealing his toned chest and a silver crucifix sat in the hollow of his throat.

“Why are you here?” We weren’t exactly buddies. He might be dating Ebony, but Vamp Boy and I had gotten off on the wrong foot. When we first met, he’d jumped me and stuck a flashlight in my face while demanding to see my teeth. I suspected our mutual dislike wouldn’t change anytime soon, especially if he cheated on my friend—which I expected him to do, eventually. He had an eye for the girls.

Well, everyone except me. He never even glanced at me sideways, which was actually a good thing.

“Don’t get excited, it’s not you I’m here to see,” Conrad said with an eye roll to challenge Ebony’s. “I’m looking for Eb.”

Why was he looking for Ebony here?

“Sierra, I need to take care of some…business,” Oren said, looking over his shoulder, as if he’d spotted something. “You’ll be okay with Conrad, right?”

I nodded. Who was I to hold him back from whatever it was he had to do?

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to bite her,” Conrad said.

Oren dipped his chin. “I’ll see you later. Be very careful and watch your back at all times.” He turned around and headed up the street.

I watched him go, hoping he’d be all right. I didn’t want everyone I knew to be in direct danger.

“I wasn’t kidding, I won’t bite you.”

“You’re very funny,” I said, turning the key in the lock and pushing it open. “You’re not a vampire, right? So why are you using vampire pun?”

Conrad shrugged before laughing.

“By the way, Ebony’s not with me. She went somewhere earlier and actually said she was going to meet you afterward.”

“Well, as you can see, she didn’t make it.” Conrad took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it onto the road. “She called me hours ago, said she was finishing up and could meet me earlier than we planned. But she didn’t show.”

A familiar pounding started at the back of my head, announcing a big old headache. I might have expended only a small amount of my power and hadn’t fully entered the dark patch for some time, but the headaches and nosebleeds still came. It was a side effect that seemed to be getting worse, and one I thought would clear while I didn’t have to deal directly with demons.

BOOK: Split at the Seams
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