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

you to be prepared, just in case.”

“It’s already getting more active. I just want to find out what’s going on and have you fix it.” She opened the door, stepping back for me to enter.

I took a deep breath and—raising my personal wards—stepped inside.

The moment I did, I was hit by a whirl of energy. It spun around me like a cat chasing its tail. I reached out to steady myself on the doorway. Looking around cautiously, I caught my breath as a pen rose up on the desk opposite the door and began spinning in the air. It suddenly stopped, then came hurtling my way, point first.

I ducked and the pen hit the wall with such a force that it embedded itself up to the clip.

“Well, that’s a direct message, I’d say.”

“Hell, the landlord’s going to kill me,” Tyra muttered, staring at the pen lodged in the drywall.

“Better him than this thing,” I muttered. Without glancing back at her, I said, “You wait outside. Let me take a look around.”

“With pleasure,” she said, ducking back out the door.

I eased my way into the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the energy.

Ghosts and poltergeists, when they weren’t visible, almost always left an energy signature that I could follow to find out where they were hiding. But this seemed everywhere, like an octopus reaching out with multiple arms. Frowning, I crossed the room. By now, several books were spinning in the air, but so far the pen had been the only thing that had been sent hurtling my way.

I reached the archway that led to the kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom. The air was so thick I could have cut it with a blade, and I glanced up to see a trap door on the ceiling. As I watched, it slowly opened by itself, the dark maw gaping over my head. I could see a string that would pull down the stairs, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I decided to try the less intrusive way first. If I could get it talking to me, I might be able to figure out what I was dealing with.

No answer came, but as my words broke the silence, there was a crash in the bathroom directly in front of me. The door was open and I could see that the vanity mirror had shattered, the shards of glass scattered all over the counter and floor. A hairbrush spun into the air and came sailing out, directly toward my head. I ducked and it landed on the floor behind me.

“I’m giving you one more chance,” I said. “Who the hell are you and what do you want? Why are you bothering Tyra?”

The bathroom door slammed shut, then opened, then shut again. I stared at it for a moment, then back up at the attic. There was something there—I could feel it watching me. It wanted me to come up, probably to attack me. Or maybe…not.

I turned and headed back to the front door. Peeking out, I saw Tyra sitting on the porch swing. I joined her.

“The attic—what do you use it for?”

She shrugged. “Not much, or at least, not till lately. I recently decided to fix it up and turn it into a craft room. There’s enough space up there, and a window that can open, so I’ll put in a small AC unit. The attic is finished, so it’s not just a bunch of rafters.”

“And was there anything up there? Anything that wasn’t yours?”

She frowned. “Now that you mention it, yeah. There were two old trunks and a bureau. I decided to leave the bureau and use it for supplies. The trunks, I had a friend carry down for me. They’re in the kitchen. I was going to get rid of them. They’re pretty beat up.”

“Do you know what’s in them?”

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t had the chance to look. And there are padlocks on them that I can’t open. They’re too big to break.”

I smiled. I had the answer for that. I brought out my phone and texted my friend Trinity.

hey, trin, can you meet me at a client’s house? she has either a poltergeist or a ghost, and i think it’s connected to two trunks she found in the attic. they’re padlocked and there isn’t a key. could you drop over and open them for us?

Trinity was known as the Keeper of Keys. He could open or close