Page 89 of Real Fake Hauntings

After checking the other side of the house, I confirmed what my first inspection had told me: no pentagrams.

On the outside, at least.

I took a fortifying breath and made sure my weapons were still there in my skirt’s pocket.

“Ready, Fluffy?”

Fluffy tugged at her leash, away from the house.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Reminding myself that the fact Fluffy wasn’t barking or growling was a good sign, I took the two steps up to the back door and tried the knob.

The door opened with a noisy groan, but a lot easier than I’d expected for a place abandoned for decades.

Excitement crept into my chest. This was good.

I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside and walked in.

And right there, on the dirty hardwood floor of the kitchen, was a dark red pentagram.

“Yes,” I exclaimed, raising triumphant fists into the air.

Fluffy barked in surprise.

“It’s all good. This is great news.” I approached the pentagram and took a photo. “I knew four pentagrams was a weird number.”

Placing my hand on one of the points, I awoke my magic.

Detect.

Magic pulsed back, thicker and deeper than with the other pentagrams, and somewhat…slimy.

I wiped my hand on my skirt. For the remains of magic to linger so strong after two days, it meant the spell used here had been a lot more powerful than in the other pentagrams.

That, and the fact the house must’ve amplified the power, if it really had been a hotspot of dark magic.

I got to my feet and peeked into the other rooms. There were a few bits of cheap furniture, an ancient couch with the springs showing, and a bathroom I didn’t dare look inside. The kitchen itself must’ve been remodeled in the fifties, with sunny yellow paint that somehow managed to give the room a depressing atmosphere in the dim light coming through the dirty windows and the open door.

I brought Fluffy close to the pentagram and crouched by her side, pointing at the swatches of blood. “Okay, Fluffy. Can you follow the trail of whoever did this?” There was a chance the witch hadn’t used a glamour potion here since the house was far away from the crowds.

Fluffy lolled her tongue expectantly, her tail bobbing side to side.

“Sniff, Fluffy. Find the evil witch.” I made exaggerated sniffing motions.

Fluffy sat down and stared back in adoration.

Well, we couldn’t all be blessed with cuteness and brains.

I took us out of the house and sent Ian another text update.

Once we had put some distance from the lair of gloom and depression, I began to brainstorm.

Whoever had transferred Bagley into Crane obviously meant to try again. For such a strong spell, the witch would need all the help she could get—which meant a place drenched by the magic of countless spells. Likely dark, in this case.

My shop was too busy during the day, and they’d know it wouldn’t be as easy to break in during the night anymore. They weren’t trying to use the old coven house—yet.

Maybe they were waiting for the crowds to die down?

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