“I’ll fetch a warmer jacket, be right with you,” Jon said as he headed up the stairs.
Donovan didn’t say a word, but I knew good and well he was going to hide in his room until this was all over.
As we walked toward the back door, Brandon slipped a bottle out of his pocket and offered it to me. “Here. Figured you could use the caffeine.”
I took it, my eyes widening as I realized what was in my hand. A Mexican bottle of Coke. Had he seriously stepped out while I was sleeping and hunted one down for me? The hotel didn’t offer something like this. It was incredibly thoughtful, and I wanted to kiss him for it.
You know what? Screw just wanting.
I popped up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Merci.”
Brandon paused mid-stride, and the expression on his face told me everything I needed to know. It was a blush of delight on his cheeks, a pleased smile, a sharp hunger in his eyes. Oh yeah, he was interested, all right. Why he didn’t make a more obvious move, I didn’t know, but he was giving me every signal. Damn if I wouldn’t follow through on it.
Ghost first. Then make out somewhere.
“Oh, good. There you are, Mack. You ready?”
Dave was a nice guy. I reminded myself of this because I kind of hated him at the moment. I really wanted to sneak a kiss. With a mental slap, I forced myself into a more professional mindset. “Hey, Dave. Yeah, I think we’re ready. I’ve got everything I need in my bag, at least.”
Dave fell into step with us as we walked out into the icy chill. I was really, really glad all our ghost hunting would happen inside tonight. Especially with the fresh snowfall on the ground. Had that happened during my nap? The sky was cloudy overhead but it wasn’t currently snowing.
“What does this entail, anyway?” Dave inquired as he walked next to me.
“Light and cooperation. If you’ve got a nice spirit, at least. Bad one, it’s a different ballgame. There’s different methods, too, depending on the severity of the shit storm coming down. Using rock salt—or sugar in a pinch—can ward off spirits, but it’s rather a stop-gap measure. I’ve seen people swear by Voodoo rituals; others use prayer and holy water. Really, I think it’s down to belief and determination. If you pull down enough power and energy, whatever’s messing with you doesn’t have a way to intervene.”
“I sometimes get asked by clients with a disturbing amount of activity in a house what to do about it. There is a pastor who’s willing to travel with us and bless the place, but not everyone’s a believer, you know?”
“Yup, I getcha. I’ll write you out a short list of who to call for your clients who aren’t Christian. It’s FBI approved, too; they hand out cards to anyone like you who’s in the biz.”
Dave blinked, startled. I could feel Brandon’s sharp attention, too. “Really? The FBI is okay with groups like ours?”
“Sure. You’re a professional crew. We can’t be everywhere, man, cut us some slack.” I grinned as I teased him.
He looked pleased at the compliment and grinned back. “Good to know.”
They’d set up largely under the gazebo, no doubt to keep snow off their equipment. I had no problem with that, as I needed a bit of a walkway anyway. I nodded hello to Marianne. Dave’s crew was small, only four people total, and I wasn’t sure if that was normal or if they had cut down the number to accommodate the three strangers they were teaming up with.
Jon trotted up in a warmer jacket and started up the gazebo steps until he caught sight of the equipment. Then he stopped dead on the stairs and refused to go any further. Considering how many cameras and recorders were already set up? It was a wise precaution.
“This is Les.” Dave introduced the spindly man with a wave. Les looked like an undertaker, some relic from the 1800s, forgotten by time. He had that look and carriage to him, although he was only fifty or so. Not old enough to be ancient as the hills.
“Hi, Les,” I greeted with a handshake.
Les regarded me with open fascination. “Hello. It’s the first time we’ve worked with a medium. I have many questions, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. This is Brandon, my partner. He’s an anchor in training, so be gentle with him. He’s learning the ropes.”
The two men shook hands, and Les introduced the last member, a teenage girl about to break into adulthood. She had the same high, patrician nose as Les, although she was brunette instead of washboard blond. “This is my daughter, Harriette. We call her Harry, though.”
Harry shook hands with me, then Brandon, a little awed by Brandon’s sheer size. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Brandon returned with a grin down at her. “Keeping it in the family, huh?”
“What can I say?” She gave him a teenager-ish shrug. “Ghosts are lit.”
“I can agree with that.”
I completed the introductions. “Everyone, the cautious man on the stairs is Jon. Jon’s a psychic, and he’s the one who first found Emma and brought her to me.”
“I’m mostly here to watch and learn,” Jon pitched in. “Please don’t bring anything electronic near me. I fry stuff.”
There were a few hellos from the group, and while they handled that, I set about making my own preparations.
Brandon followed me off the gazebo. “Okay, Mack, what can I help you with?”
“First of all.” I pointed at the top of my soda bottle. “This lid is a problem.”
He didn’t quite roll his eyes at me, but I felt like his spirit did. Dipping his hand into a pocket, he pulled out a bottle opener and deftly undid the red top before handing it back. “Like I didn’t plan ahead.”
I eyed his cargo pants with curiosity. “What all do you have stashed in there?”
“Everything,” he deadpanned. “So, what do we do?”
I’d figure that out later. If fate was with me, I’d figure it out by taking those pants off of him. I took a swig of Coke to buy myself a second to drag my mind back out of the gutter. “Right, well, like I said earlier. We need light. I’ve got several high beam LED lights on me. Help me set them up like a mini runway.”
“Anywhere?”
“No, there’s a specific place that’s got good juju.” I realized very quickly I had everyone’s undivided attention, so I paused to explain. “I’m sure you’ve wondered why some places are so freaking haunted and others not so much. Part of it is the bedrock where the structure is built. Lots of limestone, quartz, crystal, that sort of thing tends to not only retain energy but also reflects it in weird ways. It throws a ghost off sometimes. If they’re recently deceased, they’re normally confused on what’s happened. If there’s nothing to orient to—like if they’re staying in a place that’s only vaguely familiar, like a hotel—then they can quickly get lost there.”
“Which is why sudden, violent deaths are the norm for most wandering spirits?” Les asked, excited, as if I’d handed him some missing piece of the puzzle.
“Right. And places like this, the energy is crazy. I can’t see it properly, but I can really feel it. It’s like standing in a whirlpool sometimes. There’s a lot of bad energy here, too, which doesn’t help. Now, when you’ve got a lovely lady like Miss Emma, someone who wants to pass but can’t, it’s usually for one of two reasons: She’s been locked into bad energy and can’t pull free without help, or she’s literally confused on how. Either way, it’s easy for us mediums to guide a spirit through the process. Light helps, as it gives her a visual cue of the path into the next plane she should be looking for.”