Chapter 4 #2
“I’m showing gratitude for what I have.”
He tilted his brow. “Is that right?”
“This is a good job. I get to do it with you and them. I don’t know what else I could need.” And I hated that. I hated feeling so unsettled after working so long to get here. What kind of person complained about their dreams coming true?
Maybe a person who doesn’t feel like they fit inside it?
“We are helping people.” Nico let go of my hand so he could use his to point at my chest. “You are. But if that’s not settling well anymore, then consider changing something. Consider the Guild—”
“Nico.” I laughed. “No.”
“Then, independent research? There’s the Scotland spirit archive.”
“Isn’t that the position you’ve wanted since you got cleared to carry a loaded weapon?” I teased.
“We’ve been eyeing.” He gestured between the two of us. “You can’t tell me the archives don’t sound like a good time.”
“They sound incredible.”
He held up his hands. “There we have it.”
I groaned at how it all still didn’t fit, and he didn’t get it.
Nico’s posture deflated. “What?”
“Let’s put a pin in it.”
“You were literally about to cry a second ago. I’m not pinning anything.”
Before I could answer, December called, “We’re good to go!”
“Yeah?” I straightened. The air was lighter, with impending life-altering decisions pushed to the back burner.
“Hunter-in-training made the fix.” December followed a beaming Jonah with a proud smile of her own.
“All good?” Octavia’s voice carried over the wind. She leaned out of her window, locs brushing up against the side of the truck door. “There’s a storm on the way. If we want to get to the ranch before it hits, we’ll have to make up lost time.”
“Got it.” I nodded and said to Jonah, “Keys?”
December’s shoulders sagged. “Please, no.”
“I’m the fastest driver.” I smiled, accepting the keys Jonah tossed.
“Yeah, but I never get sick when Jonah drives,” she said.
“He somehow makes it feel like we’re floating,” Nico agreed. Jonah blushed. Pride never looked so shy. I gestured them into the RV.
“Quit your complaining,” I ordered. “We’re not out-floating a storm at his speed.”
We split up in a county called Burchtown. Nico and December rented a car at the small airport and took half of our supplies. They’d have an hour drive to a small town we’d helped with a ghost infestation months ago.
“You listen to those Jones instincts,” Nico whispered into my ear when he hugged me goodbye. “Trust them.”
“I will.” I closed my eyes as I squeezed him back. “Check in when you get there.”
He nodded, pulled away, and grabbed his pack to give December a chance at a goodbye.
“I got rid of all your email filters,” she said as she scrolled through a checklist on her phone. “And made a list of everything you’ll need to prepare for the next convention. It’s pinned to the board.”
“Want a hug?” I teased.
She stepped into my open arms but continued talking. “Extra insulin is in the back of the cabinet. I locked the company credit card in the safe. Your favorite socks are in the bottom drawer. I don’t think you’ll need them, but there are extra silver bullets taped under the kitchen table.”
“I think you should join that book club again,” I suggested.
December’s nose wrinkled when we pulled away. “And debate the realism of paranormal lore with a group of nonbelievers? I’d rather be the poster child for Sasquatch propaganda.”
“But it made you smile.” I combed my fingers through the ends of her hair. “And gave you something to think about besides work.”
“Work’s all you think about, too,” she countered.
“Actually, I’m thinking about taking up knitting, so…there you have it.”
December laughed. “You’re hilarious. Drive safely and let us know when you get there.”
I accepted her last hug before she disappeared into the parking lot with Nico.
It took another three hours to get to Octavia’s ranch. Engraved in the rusted sign that hung over the weathered wood fence were the words Elmwood Ranch.
Octavia got out of her truck and unlocked the gate, trying to push it open for us. Wind from the impending storm made the task a feat.
“Should I…” Jonah tried to offer, but I’d already unbuckled my seatbelt.
“It’s going to be a bad one!” Octavia shouted when I joined her side.
My lungs were heavy with the damp air. “Smells like it.”
“Be careful when driving up the road. There are a few potholes,” she said. “I don’t know how well your RV will handle them.”
“I’ve driven her through a coven of vampires; she’s seen worse.”
Octavia froze, staring at me. “Vampires?”
“We’re not strapped up for fun.” I tugged up my shirt to reveal the belt of weapons.
Her frown deepened. The harsh wind stole the noise of her sigh; the only sign of its existence was the heavy rise and fall of her chest.
“Let’s hurry,” she said dismissively.
I got back to the RV, and as soon as I clicked on my seatbelt, Jonah asked, “All good?”
“Great.” I put the RV in drive. “Hold on. There are potholes.”
He gripped the handle over the door as I followed Octavia up the dirt road.
We drove for at least two miles before pulling up to the two-story brown ranch-style home.
A wraparound porch with accessibility ramps hugged the structure.
Rocking chairs with quilted pillows tied on the seats blew back and forth in the wind.
“Welcome to Elmwood,” Octavia offered half-heartedly when we joined her on the porch. She didn’t have to use a key on the already unlocked door.
“That’s so cool,” Jonah marveled at the animals carved in the delicate dark wood of the door. Lions roared, monkeys climbed, and gazelles grazed.
“My brother.” Octavia’s eyes softened for a second as she scanned the door.
The second we crossed the threshold, a sweet scent of tomato soup and the warmth of a lit fireplace greeted us. The foyer hosted a couple of padded red stools and muddied pairs of boots. Two jean jackets hung on tarnished gold rungs where Octavia stopped to add hers.
“Wilson!” Octavia called out while she slipped off her sneakers. “Esther?”
Before Jonah could follow Octavia into the kitchen, I grabbed his elbow, holding him back.
“First impressions are important,” I reminded him.
Jonah straightened. “Right…I’m relatively good at them.”
I shook my head, gaze straying to the staircase in front of us.
I couldn’t tell how many rooms were on the dimly lit second floor from this angle.
But there was one downstairs, right off the living room.
To our left was a formal dining room bloated with cardboard boxes and furniture cloaked in white sheets.
The kitchen stood at the back of the house, with plenty of large windows and a nice view of the stable.
“I’m talking about them,” I said. “When you start a job with people who live at the activity site, you watch them closely. Pay attention to how they greet you and how they interact with each other. The moment we step into that kitchen, we’re on the clock.
And that clock doesn’t stop running until we’ve figured out what we’re dealing with and how to stop it. Got it?”
Jonah’s eyes were wide as he took it all in. “Yeah, yes. Definitely.”
“Good. So, what are we looking for exactly?”
Jonah’s brow furrowed as he blanked.
“There won’t be any exams or grades,” I promised. “You make a mistake, I correct you, and we move on. It’s that easy.”
He nodded, shoulders relaxing a bit. “Jumpiness, red eyes, sensitivity to light, excessive talking, or skin picking.”
“Why?”
“All signs of potential possession. A rare possibility but still warrants ruling out.”
“Perfect.” I smiled. “Now, what’s on your belt?”
“Huh?” Jonah ran his fingers over his pocketknife, wooden stake, vial of salt, and silver-coated twine.
I tsked, more teasing than scolding. “You should always have rosemary and garlic in your kit.”
He winced when he saw me pull some from my belt. “Right, right.”
I offered him the two plastic baggies containing the rosemary leaves and garlic we needed to rule out one of them being a paranormal creature of some sort.
“You’ve got this.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s get in there.”
I let Jonah lead the way. A warm, orange overhead light struggled to illuminate the large kitchen.
The soft lighting revealed sandy brown walls and a backsplash of hand-painted tiles behind the counter.
Two large pots shimmered on the cast-iron wood stove.
The hardwood moaned underneath our feet, worn with scratches from years of wear and tear.
Their house was the type of sturdy structure that no longer existed.
“Rae Jones.” A dark-skinned guy with coily short hair and a green plaid shirt greeted me. Even sitting in his wheelchair, I could tell he was well over six feet.
Wilson didn’t look much like Octavia. He smiled easily, for one. His eyes were naturally droopy, giving him a look of perpetual exhaustion. But somehow, that didn’t dim his aura of excitement.
“Wilson Daniel.” I offered him my hand.
He gave my hand a firm shake. “We’re so grateful you agreed to take us on.”
“Your sister drives a hard bargain.” I smiled at Octavia. She frowned back, almost scolding as if I’d been trying to get away with something.
“This is our ranch hand.” Wilson moved back a little to give her room to introduce herself.
“I’m Esther Chen.” Esther was a short woman who couldn’t be much older than Jonah.
Her black hair was wavy and windswept. She sported a worn oversized sweatshirt; holes dotted the sleeves.
Her beige skin tanned golden from what had to be hours spent in the sun.
Esther took after Octavia, wearing a solemn look with no smile on the horizon.
“We’re making you guys dinner. It should be ready soon.” She moved back to stir a pot, seemingly uninterested in small talk.
“Smells incredible,” Jonah murmured. We stood close enough that I could hear his stomach rumble. It’d been a while since we had a home-cooked meal.
“Everything’s fresh from the garden.” Wilson beamed with pride. “And the cheese is local.”