Witching Time (The Wild Hunt #14) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,13

a walk around your yard and see if there’s anything out there that needs mending.” Curikan stretched, yawning.

“Okay, I’ll be back later.” I made sure the wards were set, showed my father how to deactivate them in case they accidentally went off, then headed out to my car.

By the time I made it to Tyra Smith’s, I was beginning to feel like myself again.

While I loved company, I seldom enjoyed houseguests for any length of time, and even though it was my parents, I still felt crowded. I breathed easier when it was just Raj and me in the house—or Raj, Kipa, and me. It wasn’t that I was anti-social, but I preferred my own company. I also liked the freedom to walk around naked.

Tyra’s house was easy to find—it was the nicest in her neighborhood.

She lived in a section of Redmond that had deteriorated over the years until now it might as well be a trailer park. Crime wasn’t all that rampant, but there was a quiet desperation around the area, where the houses were like fading beauty stars, forgotten and left to decline in their old age. In this neighborhood, rent was cheap. Lots of families with little money and too many children tended to congregate here, as well as those who worked in fast food and retail where they were underpaid and overtired and couldn’t afford anything nicer.

The house was a modest cottage off of Tillicum Way. Tyra must have been waiting for me because as I pulled into the driveway—a dirt and gravel affair—she pushed open the screen door and stepped out on the front porch.

The house had been painted bright yellow at one time, but the color had faded to a pale chiffon. The trim on the windows was peeling, and while the porch looked sturdy enough, it desperately needed a good coat of stain. The yard was tidy, though, and marigolds and mums lined the broken sidewalk leading to the house. A single tree—a tall maple—shrouded the east side of the house.

“Hey,” she said as I stepped out of my car, carrying both my purse and my tote bag. “Thanks for coming.”

“Not a problem.” I paused at the bottom step. The house definitely had an odd feel to it as I drew closer. There was something in there, all right, and while I didn’t get a sense of malevolence, a swirl of chaos surrounded the place. “So, why don’t you tell me more about what’s been happening before we head inside.”

“It must have started, oh…three weeks ago? Maybe four weeks? I noticed small things at first—a picture would be askew on the wall, a vase fell off of a coffee table on its own. A window closed by itself. I thought maybe small earthquakes—we are on a fault zone. Or maybe my cat knocked over the vase. But then, about two weeks ago, events became more noticeable. I put my keys down and they disappeared. And a bracelet, the same. I ran all over the house looking for them and then they showed up back where I left them.”

“Hmm…anything else?”

“Yeah. I heard the water running in the bathroom, but when I went to check, there was no sign of any faucet being on. But…the sink was wet. I began to hear footsteps in the attic. I’d check but there was nothing there. Then last week, I was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and when I looked around, every dish in the cupboard was sitting stacked on the counter. I put them all away, but now the cupboard doors have started opening on their own.”

I blinked. The poltergeist was certainly a busy little bee. “Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. The TV turns on by itself in the middle of the night. And two days ago, a book flew off the coffee table and sailed past me, hitting the wall. I’m starting to get worried that it will become more violent.” Her eyes were wide. Tyra was a gorgeous black woman, with dark skin and eyes. Her hair fell down her back in long braids, gathered together like a ponytail by a silk scarf. She was tall and lithe, like a dancer, and she worked as the hostess at Hadeen’s, an upscale restaurant. I also knew, from long acquaintance, that she was practically fearless, and if she was worried, she had good reason.

“All right, let’s check it out.” I stood, shouldering my bags. “I will warn you, inviting me in might make it worse. I just want