Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Could you not,” I asked, hand up to shield my eyes so I wouldn’t be blinded.
Dropping the light, letting it simply slip from his hand, he started to hyperventilate. I understood. Sometimes when you went from terrified to not, the transition was a rough one.
“Peace,” I bid both them and the spirits, pulling out the drawstring pouch full of dried lavender flowers and pouring half the contents into my hand. I then cast them in every direction, repeating the word.
“Who the hell are you?” the guy with the flashlight yelled at me.
“Keep your fuckin’ voice down,” Lorne snarled at him, and I saw the stranger jolt in fear. “He’s trying to make everything safe and normal so your friend can wake up.”
I was always astounded by Lorne’s ability to read a situation correctly even when it was brand-new to him.
“All is well,” I intoned, spreading the remainder of the flowers, then replacing the bag in my pocket before pulling the mixture I’d prepared at home from the other.
I walked over to Father Dennis and the woman leaning into his arms and went to my knees beside her in the grass. I smiled at her, and she sat up and stared at me. Slowly, she stopped sobbing, but there was still a lot of sniffling and catching of breath. I really wished I had some tissues so she could blow her nose.
“Turn around and look,” I directed her, my voice soft.
Doing as I asked, she saw her friend—I was guessing she was friends with the men as well—in Lorne’s arms. He was being very careful with her; that was obvious.
She slapped her hand over her mouth, and I gestured for Lorne to bring the unconscious woman over.
The two men followed Lorne, and once he sank down to one knee, with the others crowding around, I turned to the guy who’d been sprinkling the holy water, because he was the only one breathing normally.
“Are you the paranormal investigators who were supposed to meet with Father Dennis?”
He coughed, tried to speak without success, held up a finger, cleared his throat, and that time his voice came out in a raspy croak. “Yeah, that’s us. I’m Jeremy, and this is Liam,” he said, indicating the guy who was now bent over, panting. “This is Meijun, and the one who’s passed out is Shelby.”
“This is Father Dennis, I’m Xander, and this is Lorne MacBain, the chief of police.”
Jeremy tried valiantly to smile, managed to look at Lorne and Father Dennis, then returned his gaze to me.
“Good,” I sighed. “Now tell me, is Shelby clairvoyant?”
Meijun spoke up. “I thought—I mean, we all thought she had some gifts,” she said, sniffling loudly, “but we didn’t think she would react like this when we got here.”
“Why didn’t you wait for Father Dennis?”
“We didn’t think anything would happen. We were here last night, and everything was fine, though we did sense something, which is why we asked Father Dennis to meet with us tonight. We were hoping to get a sound bite with the priest for our documentary.”
I took a breath. “Did you take the cemetery tour with Oliver earlier in the week?”
All three nodded.
“And he told you that this entire area back here predates the town, yeah?”
“He did,” Jeremy confirmed. “And he also said that this part was where most spectral activity had been reported.”
“Which piqued your interest.”
“Yeah,” Liam said, glancing at Lorne and then back to me.
“Well, the part Oliver always leaves out is that most of the people back here died before they should have from disease. Others died because the people they trusted had no idea what to do during the winter, being so far from civilization.”
“Meaning what?” Meijun asked.
“Meaning they died of starvation or froze to death.”
“How horrible,” Liam said sadly, glancing at the headstones now visible because the drizzling had stopped, the clouds had parted, and we had a bright moon shining down on us. Amazing how different everything looked illuminated.
“It was, so you have to think that a lot of folks back here died terribly, and when you all come trampling through, the spirits you disturb are not going to be pleased.”
“Yes, but,” Meijun began, “the souls have moved on to either heaven or hell, so there aren’t any ghosts. That’s why we’re here. None of us believe in apparitions. We believe that what people call spirits are actually demons trying to trick people into giving up their souls.”
“What is with all this demon business?” Father Dennis asked irritably.
“You sound like you don’t believe in demons,” Jeremy said, his tone reproachful.
“That’s because I don’t. What I do believe is that something else altogether is going on here. But as I can’t say for certain what that is, and we do know that the cemetery is haunted, I’ll defer all this ghost business to my colleague.” He gestured to me.