Page 6 of Shadows of the Soul

“Para de lastimarme.”

My head snapped to the right. A thin African American boy dressed in blue shorts and a white T-shirt too small for his body stood before me. He was seven years old at most. My heart shattered at the lost and pained look in his deep brown eyes. The orb flared and doubled in size, slipping through my net.

“Shit,” I mumbled as the fiery oil burnt out and left another crisp ochre mark on my hardwood floors. The boy disappeared, leaving me alone with my road to Heaven wide open.

I stumbled through the door into the living room. “Harry,” I hollered as I flopped on my sofa. My ghostly friend shot through the wall and hovered over my slumped body.

He peered down at me. “Are you well?”

I ran a hand through my long copper hair. “Do you still feel a pull to this house?”

He shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back. “No, not since you destroyed the soul stone. I stay because you need me, not because I’m compelled.”

My head dropped on the pillow. “That’s what I thought.” So why was the ghost of a seven-year-old child hanging around my house? This was not good.

“Should I retrieve Miss Lexington?” Harry asked with a frown.

I huffed a laugh and slapped a hand over my forehead. “How would you do that?”

A deep frown marred Harry’s features. He was still struggling with the drawbacks of being departed, mainly because I was the only person who could see and hear him.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It’s time for breakfast. Perhaps some sustenance will recharge your batteries?”

A groan left my throat as I slammed my eyes closed. “Hudson, right.” I had a pancake date with Terror of Tennessee.

“Ah, the first romantic stirrings of true love,” Harry lamented. I peeked one eye open to catch him staring wistfully out the window, caught in some long ago memory of meeting his wife.

“The Principal isn’t looking for my heart, he’s only interested in my vagina.”

“I think you underestimate the draw he has to you,” Harry spluttered.

“No, I haven’t. When The Terror of Tennessee wants to cook me breakfast, it’s for one thing only and it’s not to spend time with my sparkling personality.”

“He’s cooking you breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“In his home?”

I sat bolt upright. “Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes! Why does everyone keep asking me this?”

“No reason,” Harry said as he darted through my wall and disappeared into the house somewhere. What the hell was I missing? Had I committed a shifter faux pas? Had I accepted an offer of marriage via pancakes? Just my luck.

I swept through my rear garden to check on the progress of the bleeding roses. I hadn’t cut them, as I wasn’t sure what magic they held. It was wise to leave them alone until I could figure out what was feeding them.

I halted next to the giant magnolia tree. The blooms had expanded overnight. Their crimson stained petals now spread over several grave plots and had invaded three more trees.

I stuck my hands on my hips and frowned. This wasn’t just the residual magic left over from the unboxed remains, it was something more powerful. Someone was tampering with my property. They’d gotten around my boundary wards and crept into my personal sanctuary. My feet picked through the vines, my sneakers protecting me from their spikes. Stopping in the center, I spun in a circle.

“What wicked beastie are you?” I whispered. A literal interpretation would be blood magic. Good god, I hope it wasn’t blood magic. The damn stuff gave me heebie jeebies. It was voodoo in the worst way, like what they portrayed in the movies, but worse, so much worse.

I sucked in a breath and bit my lip. Well, there was one way to test it. I bent and ran my finger over the bleeding bloom. The kid appeared in front of me, blood spurting from a broad gash across his throat. I grabbed my neck and fell to my knees. His soul deep terror and gut wrenching pain echoed in my body. I wasn’t reliving his death in the strictest sense. My corporal body still stood in my garden amongst the murderous flowers, but I’d formed a connection to his tormented spirit and he was trying to pull me under with him.

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