Chapter Seven Twizz
This is a grand entrance with brick retaining walls that end in twirls at the bottom of a set of brick steps leading to a pair of solid-looking double doors at the top.
I ring the bell and wait. I know the occupants are home because I hear voices coming from the other side of the door.
I turn back to see where Isabella is. True to her word, she returned to the car.
That’s fine. Actually, that’s even better.
The door opens, revealing a young teenage girl with black hair swept up in a ponytail and straight-cut bangs. The girl’s pale skin rivals Master Larkin’s.
“Yeah?” She asks with her arms folded across her chest, looking bored and blowing a bubble with her chewing gum. “What do you want?”
“Are your parents at home?”
“Can I help you?” A middle-aged woman with a young boy hiding behind her appears. “Is this a friend of yours?” She asks her daughter.
“No,” I answer.
“Not yet,” the teen says, popping another bubble and posing, while she looks me up and down, so that her oversized shirt hangs over her shoulder. “But I’d like him to be.”
Ha, that’s what she thinks. If she knew what I really am, she’d go hide under her mother’s bed. Unless... She looks pretty defiant, knowing that might make her more attracted to me.
“Actually,” I smile, hoping to disarm the suspicious-looking parent. “I’m from the Southern society of paranormal investigation.”
“I never heard of them.”
“I’m not surprised. People don’t like to be reminded that there are other entities among us.”
“You think there are ghosts here? In our house?” The teenage girl asks.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m here to find out.
” I play it cool. “A neighbor of yours about a mile to the south of you asked for us to come and investigate. My partner and I,” I look over my shoulder at Isabella sitting in her car, “are canvassing the surrounding area and picking houses at random to see if there is any suspicion of paranormal activity.”
“What do you mean by paranormal activity?” The girl asks.
“Depends. Sometimes people will hear voices when they’re all alone. Sometimes lights will flicker, turning on or off. Doors slam. There’s a feeling like someone’s watching you.”
“I told you this house was haunted!” The girl is quick to turn on her mother.
“That’s enough,” the mother snaps.
“We’re gonna die!” The little boy yells as he runs into the house. I have to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you. I’ll be on my way.”
“No!” The girl shrieks. “Tell him about the fan that won’t stop spinning.”
The mother shoots her daughter a look. “That’s enough, Anna. It’s an electrical short. That’s all.”
“No, it’s not, and you know it.”
“Are you having some sort of trouble?”
“It’s nothing. We have it under control. Tell me, what is it exactly that you want, sir?”
“Just to talk about anything you might be experiencing that seems unusual or out of the norm.”
“And if you think there’s something worth investigating?
“That’s the best part. We pay you a fee, and you allow us to immerse ourselves in the environment for about a week.
We bring meters that measure temperature and electrical activity, among other things.
We set up recorders and cameras all around the house for the week, and review the findings.
Sometimes we know in a matter of hours that there’s a spirit trapped there. ”
“This sounds so cool,” the teenager, who’s been listening with rapt attention, exclaims.
“What happens when you finish with the measurements?”
“Depends. We evaluate whether we think the spirit is dangerous or not. Best-case scenario, we recommend burning sage in all corners of the house and having it blessed. Worst, people have chosen to tear down all physical structures and/or repurpose the property.”
“And you think the other house behind us is—haunted?”
“There’s definitely energy in that house. That’s why I’m here.”
“Do you have a few minutes to come inside and talk?”
Here it is, the invitation. Best of all, it comes from the mother. I might feel a tinge of guilt if her gullible daughter were the one to invite me in. As a half-vampire, now that I have the invite, there’s no way to keep me out. I can reenter any time I want.
“I don’t know if any of this would be of interest to you, but there are a few unusual things that have happened recently.”
“What was that all about?” Isabella asks once I return to her still-parked, still-waiting car.
“That was me using the power of suggestion,” I answer with pride.
“To do what exactly?”
“To gain access to the house to see if it’s the right house for Master Larkin.”
“That’s awful! You’re manipulating them for your benefit.” She sounds offended. My poor Isabella has been too confined to the rules of polite society.
“Relax. The family is going to twist what I said and shape their memories into a new narrative that’s going to have them primed to accept a very generous offer for their home.”
“That’s the equivalent of stealing!”
“It’s not. They are going to want to sell the house. I’ll gladly pay top dollar, take it as is, and best of all, the idea is going to come from the family, not from you or me.”
“That’s not possible. It can’t be that easy.”
“Baby, I promise. With me, all things are possible.