“Good thing I’m prepared.” Ethan looks at the salt and fire poker, which he said can repel ghosts since they aren’t fans of iron, and can stop them from entering a room. Though in my experience, nothing can really stop a ghost. They can walk through walls, after all.
“Do you want me to turn off the lights?” I ask.
“It would be more romantic that way.” He puts his hands palm-up on the table and slides them forward.
“Oh, so romantic.”
“If you don’t need them off, then no. Keep ‘em on.”
“Okay.” I put my hands on top of his, telling myself not to appreciate the roughness of them or wonder how they’d feel against my breasts. Closing my eyes, I let my mental shields drop and slowly count backward from ten. I might not know how to do magic—again—but I know enough about spirits and the danger of a séance that I’m not taking any chances.
“In a circle around us, I cast white light. Protect us from evil, keep us safe through the night.” The last word leaves my lips, like it has a hundred times before, but I feel something this time. I blink open my eyes and swear something just shimmered around us.
“You said you didn’t know any spells,” Ethan says, eyeing me.
“That’s not a spell. It’s something I made up as a kid to help me sleep when I was scared. But maybe it is a spell, one that my aunt taught me and one I can’t remember for some reason.”
“It sounded like a spell.”
“It felt like one too,” I confess and slip one hand off Ethan’s. I pick up the letter Aunt Estelle had James give me and close my eyes again, sinking further away from what’s in front of me and into the spirit world. I’ve never let myself go as far as I think I can because I’m terrified I won’t be able to come back. The whole thing confuses me as well, and it’s just not something I’ve ever been willing to risk.
“Estelle Fowler,” I say quietly, concentrating on the letter. “I would like to talk to you—”
“About your car’s extended warranty,” Ethan interrupts. If I could kick him under the table, I would. I open my eyes and glare at him.
“Maybe I should break the circle and let the ghosts possess you.”
“Fine. Sorry,” he says, brown eyes glimmering.
“Estelle Fowler,” I repeat, gently rubbing the letter between my fingers. “If you can hear me, please give me a sign. I really need to talk to you.” The candle flickers and both Ethan and I hold our breath.
“Anything?” he asks quietly after a few seconds have passed.
“No.” I put the letter down and rest my fingertips on top of Ethan’s again. “Spirits, heed my call. Bring forth the voice of Estelle Fowler to this time and place.” I think of the recurring dream about walking through the forest. Darkness surrounds us, but I’m not scared.
“Come along, Anora.” The woman next to me reaches behind, holding out her hand for me to take. The door that appeared out of nowhere swings open, and I see the familiar brick building that brings a sense of belonging.
“Aunt Estelle,” I whisper and suddenly I get hit with another memory. I’m in the forest, just like in my dream, but this time I step through the door. Aunt Estelle looks down at me, smiling. It’s the first time I’ve clearly remembered her face. It’s jarring and my eyes fly open.
I open my mouth to tell Ethan, but then another familiar feeling creeps over me, causing my nerves to prickle down my spine. Hunter jumps off the couch, growling, right as the blonde-haired boy appears, standing behind Ethan.
The EMF meter starts to buzz, and Ethan makes a move to get up.
“Don’t break the circle,” I tell him, linking our fingers. “There’s a spirit.”
“Where?” He jerks his head around.
“About a yard behind you. It’s not my aunt, but I’ve seen him before.”
“I don’t like this, Anora.” Ethan’s brows push together, and his eyes go to the iron fire poker.
“No,” I tell him, giving his hands a squeeze. “Wait. Let me try to talk to him.” I swallow a lump of fear and stare at the blonde-haired ghost. “Can you hear me?” I ask, voice wavering. He looks completely corporeal to me, with his skin paled from death.
His head bobs up and down as he mouths the word “Yes”.