invisible and angry shook the huge iron gates at the building’s arched main entrance. Dark, human-shaped shadows slipped along the walls. Inside the darkened building, momentary bursts of light were visible, as if camera flashes were going off. Impossible, since the building had been closed up for hours.
“Definitely more than your guests bargain for,” Anthony observed, looking rattled by the ghostly noises.
“One more stop,” Valerie said. We walked in silence for several blocks, thinking about what we had seen. So far, the ghosts had been unusually active. Yes, Charleston is one of the most haunted cities in the United States, but that doesn’t mean that every night looks like something out of a horror movie. Charleston is a city of subtlety, manners, and decorum (at least in public), and our ghosts are subtle, too. Usually, they’re not out to scare anyone. They’re just trapped in an infinite memory loop, or trying to get a message across a gap in time they can’t bridge. Some of their stories are tragic, others are horrific, but fortunately most of them aren’t dangerous.
Now, the ghosts were restless, and I don’t think they were practicing for Halloween. There was an edge of desperation about the hauntings we had seen, and it squared with what Tad’s ghost had told us about the wraiths and what I had witnessed with the ghostly bike riders. That made me even more curious about these Reapers and whether they and the Watcher had anything to do with Sorren’s other problems.
Valerie turned down Queen Street. The Old Jail was a tourist favorite, especially for evening ghost tours. It once held Charleston’s most notorious criminals, including Lavinia Fisher, a female serial killer who ran an inn. I usually steered clear of the Old Jail. The psychic echoes of the long-ago executions were unpleasantly strong even if I took pains not to touch anything, and the malice of the long-ago inmates left an indelible impression.
Someone vanished on the steps here just a few days ago, I thought. Did the Reapers have a hand in it?
Traffic was quiet tonight. I wondered if people without psychic ability could still sense that something was wrong and avoided places where the ghosts were active. We drew alongside the Old Jail, and right away, I could feel a wave of cold air completely out of place in this season. It was like stepping into a meat locker. A foul smell hung in the air, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Have a message for the devil? I’ll be seeing him soon.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
“Not clearly,” Anthony replied. Teag nodded, and so did Valerie. We all recognized the words. It was the statement Lavinia Fisher made moments before her hanging a century ago.
I eyed the open area around the Old Jail. Once, it had been a potter’s field, the place criminals and vagrants were buried when no one else wanted them. Now, I could feel the gaze of all those spirits watching us. Ghost hunters like Kell have often talked about how angry some ghosts seem, jealous of the living. Tonight, I was certain that if those ghosts could have hitched a ride with us, to somewhere safe and warm, they would have done so in a heartbeat.
The sudden sound of a metal cup against iron bars made me jump. I looked to the jail’s gates, but there was no one in sight. We had barely moved forward when I heard a snap, a thud and a creak that sounded suspiciously like a weighted rope swinging back and forth against wood, though no one had been hanged here in over one hundred years.
“Look!” Anthony said. Several blue-white orbs glowed dimly as they bobbed and wove through the darkness of the lawn beside the jail.
Coming for us.
All four of us heard the voice that time, and I could see from their expressions that Valerie and Anthony had had enough.
“Let’s go,” I said, a little more sharply than I intended. We vamoosed, right back to the main street and the safety of bright street lights. Even so, I kept a white-knuckled grip on my athame, and I saw that Teag held his staff as if ready for trouble.
“You’ve seen what I mean, right?” Valerie asked as she headed us back to the stables.
“Have you heard anything from the guides at other companies?” Teag asked.
“Everyone’s scared. Some of the guides are saying it’s pranksters, but I don’t think they really believe it.”