Page 100 of Ghostly Touches

“How long have you been sending them over?”

“Five-ish years.”

Only five years? Is this a new talent she’s gained, or does the mass of spirits concern her too much to let them continue to exist in this world?

“What were you doing before you started moving around so much?”

Willow smiles. “I was a florist for a few years in college. I loved it. At night, I would hang out at psychic shops and help reconnect people to their loved ones. I’d host parties at people’s houses and do seances. On campus, it became a thing to talk to the dead. The spirits loved the communication and scaring my peers was so much fun.”

My mouth twitches.

“Why are you smiling?”

I turn to find Willow eyeing me suspiciously. My smile grows.

“I can see you purposely spooking the other students to give the spirits a laugh.”

Willow giggles. “Shut up.”

Chuckling, I tighten my grip around her hand.

“You shouldn’t speak to your king like that.” Am I really teasing her right now?

“I apologize, Your Majesty.”

This time I laugh. Really laugh. It’s not from exhaustion or being overwhelmed. Behind us, I hear Viktor’s snores hitch before they go back to normal. Willow did this. Her attitude and playfulness have brought a smile to my face. It has nothing to do with our soul bond. Right then, I make a decision: if we can get the pieces of our soul back, I won’t abandon this woman. I’ll help her get rid of this curse.

That’s the least I can do since I brought it to her in the first place.

* * *

Five hours later,we pull up to the safehouse. Or at least I’m ninety-nine percent positive it’s one of our safehouses.

“What the hell…?” Viktor opens the back door before Kwil can park the vehicle. I follow him out of the van and stare at the place. What was once a small one-bedroom house with a worn-out roof, a door that barely hung on its hinges, and dirty windows is now a massive, two-story brick house with a nicely manicured property and a fancy circular driveway.

“Why the hell have we been staying at those other places when we could have stayed here?” Jonah asks as he climbs out of the backseat behind me.

“Is this the right place?” Kwil asks as we stare at the dark house.

I know it’s the place. I’ve only been here once before, but the location, a little too close to other houses, always struck me as strange. The other safehouses are all hidden out of sight of the main roads or hidden in a property so overgrown that no one would find them. So why did the Brotherhood revamp this one?

“Come on.” I walk up to the front door.

I type in the code, the year the Brotherhood was created, and the door unlocks. Stepping inside, I reach over to turn on the lights. When I do, I’m floored by what we see inside. Stacked around the walls and filling the two rooms on either side of the entrance are piles of purplish, iridescent quartz stones. There are a variety sizes and shapes. Some are dirty while others have obviously been cleaned up. What is going on here? It’s forbidden to bring things back from the Third Realm and yet these rooms are full of stones from there. Why would there be so many piles of these rocks? And who’s doing the mining?

Could there be Ghosts profiting off the materials in the Third Realm? It would explain the money to update the house. But if it is someone in the Brotherhood, who is it? Don’t they understand the risks? Who knows what kind of bacteria they are bringing over from this other world? They have to be stopped. Clenching my jaw, I add this crime to the list of things I must uncover and take care of.

As I move further into the house so the others can enter, I hear Willow’s gasp and the lack of noise from Kwil and Viktor. I flick on the lights as I move through the hall into the kitchen. There are more stones in here. The floor is caked in orange and red dust from the Third Realm, and there’s clay in the sink.

“Well, looks like we just hit the jackpot. Can we take a few of these for the road? We can pawn them off for cash,” Jonah says, coming up beside me.

His tail lands on my shoulder. I look down at it and grimace. Too many times have I seen that tail in action for me to accept it anywhere near me. I brush it off with a scowl.

“We’re not touching any of this,” I tell him. “It’s not supposed to be here.”

“But it is here, so let’s waste not, want not and—”

“I said no. Now go take a shower, you stink,” I grunt.

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