Page 6 of Christmas Spirits

Couldn’t hurt, right?

“Hi there. My name’s Kay. I’m sure you’re wondering how I can see you right now. Possibly even where you are…”

The spirit’s tendrils twisted and darkened as if reacting to my words. I wondered if it was trying to communicate with me somehow, only in a way I couldn’t understand.

I kept going. “I’m a Medium, meaning I can see spirits, like you. You’re here in the living world. You must have stumbled through one of the openings in the veil by accident. If you’re looking to—”

There was a loud, guttural noise, like the deep blare of a freight train’s horn—powerful enough to rip through you and make your bones rattle. In the next instance, the black form doubled in size and flew at me.

With my arms up to shield myself, I stumbled backward, colliding with a cooling rack and toppling over with it. As I landed half on the floor and half on the metal, pain ricocheted through my hips and backside. But everything stopped when Zach’s terrified screams pierced my ears.

Terror stole the scream from my lungs. Scrambling to my feet, I found Zach’s pack-and-play crib turned over, and him on the floor, tangled in the blankets that were supposed to be lining the mattress. Frantic, I rushed over, scooped him up, and peeled the fabric away. He continued to wail as I examined his face and head, and ran my hand over everywhere else to check for anything broken.

Nothing that I could tell, thank God. He’d just been spooked badly, like me.

Chills ran rampant across my skin, and holding Zach close, I spun around. My heart hammered against my ribs, and nausea spun in my stomach as fear seized me. The transparent black spirit hovered in the far corner of the kitchen, watching us. Even more horrifying? It was growing larger again, building up its strength for another attack.

Zach’s crib hadn’t tilted over on its own, and that meant…

A spirit that could touch things in the living world? I’d never heard or seen such a thing. Grandma had never mentioned anything like that either.

One thing was for sure, whatever this thing was, it wanted to hurt us.

As if it had read my thoughts, the black billowing mass flew at us again, its tendrils outstretched. I ducked just as it flew over, but its tentacles snagged my hair and wrenched me backward. I was dragged across the tile floor, the pain in my head breathtaking. In my arms, Zach continued to cry.

The spirit let go, and I slammed into a worktable. Pots, pans, and trays tumbled from their hooks, and I curled my body around Zach to shield him as they rained down. When I heard the familiar swish and felt the pressure of something sliding across my shoulders, I knew one of my bags of ingredients had fallen over, too.

When the ruckus stopped, I lifted my head and saw that both me and Zach were coated in white powder. Flour.

I struggled to stand again. My legs wobbled, but I straightened them. The spirit was back in its same spot, the dense middle pulsing as it grew larger. Definitely gathering energy from somewhere and readying for its next attack.

My gaze swung right, toward the backdoor leading to the alley behind the store, and contemplated making a run for it while it was immobile. I didn’t fight evil. That wasn’t who I was.

Remembering my grandmother’s rosary around my neck, I clutched the cross at the end. Did I call on the guardian angel, Elijah, for help, like he had told me to do if something went wrong?

“Kay?” Laurence’s voice came from the front of the shop. I could hear his footsteps getting closer to the curtain that separated it from the back kitchen. Immediately, relief flooded me, just knowing he was close, but it was quickly replaced by dread at the sight of the black mass gliding toward the doorway.

Pulling the curtain back, he stepped through, holding two take out boxes in his one hand and a bouquet of white lilies and roses in the other. “Surprise! I thought Zach would be sleeping by now, so I brought us lunch. Figured you’d like some company. Cuban sandwiches and spicy sausage soup. Your favorite.” He held out the gifts with his normal shy smile.

When he saw me—really saw me for the first time since coming in, covered in flour and clutching a crying Zach—his face fell. “Kay? What’s—”

Without saying a word, I hurried across the kitchen, snatched him by the arm, and tugged him back toward the exit door. The lunch boxes fell out of his hand, soup, bread, and all spilling all over the floor. In any other circumstance, I would have gushed at his surprise visit and gifts. Laurence really was the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, even more attentive and romantic after little Zachary was born, but right now, I couldn’t think about anything but the evil spirit so close to him, preparing for another strike.

Before I could push him out the exit, he planted his feet, stopping. “What’s going on?” he half-yelled over Zach’s screams.

I didn’t have time to answer fully. Only a strangled cry escaped as I watched the spirit behind him lunge again, coming right for us. Seeing my panic, he turned, just as one of the see-through tendrils whipped out, slicing through the bouquet in one swift motion. Petals flew, and he dropped the decapitated flowers as if they were suddenly made of acid.

Gliding through the air, the spirit circled toward us again, and my stomach dropped. “Laurence!” I yelled.

He swung his arms so fast, and right as the spirit was about to crash into us, it hit into something invisible and solid between us before falling on the floor, motionless, like a clump of dirty laundry.

Magic. He’d used some kind of blocking spell.

Laurence stepped back, forcing me closer to the door. “What was that?” he whispered over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off it.

“I think it’s a spirit,” I replied, voice still shaky from the whole ordeal.

“Not a very nice one.”

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