Shadow Kissed 03 - Shadowman

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    â€œYou’ve got to be kidding me,” a woman said.
    Layla’s eyes snapped open. Young. Black hair, dye job fading and growing out. Bad mood written all over her face. Zoe Maldano.
    â€œGhost,” Layla said, gasping, though the apparition had vanished. When Layla was a kid, she’d told grown-ups about some of the odd things she’d seen. No one had believed her. No one ever believed her.
    â€œWell, duh,” Zoe said. “Place is fucking haunted. What kind of shitty reporter are you not to know the first thing about Segue?”
    â€œIt—She—” Zoe acted like the ghost was a matter of course. First Shadow, now this.
    Zoe raised a dismissive hand as she walked away. “And weren’t you going to out Adam and Talia to the world? Wasn’t that our deal?”
    Layla hurried after her. No way she was going to be left in that hallway, alone again with the demon child. “Can she hurt people?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Zoe said, slapping a swinging door open. “She doesn’t bug me.”
    â€œShe hates me.” Layla followed her into the kitchen.
    â€œYou’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
    No, she most definitely was not. And if this ghost was real, was near ready to spin its dolly head around on its neck, then Khan’s magic was real . The awful gate, too? But she’d been dreaming. Khan’s place was full of all that expensive furniture, not an anvil and a gate.
    Nothing made sense.
    â€œTray ready?” Zoe asked another woman, who was fussing over the stove. The woman was petite and curvy, her short red hair pulled back into two cute pigtails at the base of her head.
    â€œOne sec,” the woman answered. She lifted a frying pan and scraped some decadent-looking pasta onto a waiting plate. The savory smells of butter and garlic made Layla’s mouth water, in spite of the continued pounding of her heart.
    â€œThanks,” Zoe said, but she didn’t sound all that grateful. She lifted the tray and moved back to the door, using her hip to ease herself out into the series of connecting rooms. Zoe had to have nerves of steel to cross through those haunted rooms. Nerves of freakin’ steel.
    The cook put her hands on her hips and regarded Layla. “Adam called and said you’d be over.”
    Layla pointed toward the door. Zoe didn’t care, but maybe this lady would. Somebody should. “There’s a ghost out there.”
    The cook laughed. “Which one?”
    â€œLittle girl?”
    â€œAh. That would be Lady Therese Amunsdale. I’ve heard of her, but never had the pleasure myself.” She walked over and held out her hand. “I’m Marcie. I keep people fed around here. You hungry?”
    A normal question. Layla liked normal. She grabbed hold and went with it.
    â€œStarved, but I can fix something for myself.” She glanced back at the still-swinging door. Could the ghost child come in here, too?
    Marcie waved at her with a dishcloth. “Just sit down. I live to cook.”
    â€œShe always that unpleasant?”
    â€œWhich one? The ghost or Zoe?” Marcie opened the fridge, pulled out bunches of green herbs.
    Layla shrugged. “Both, I guess.”
    â€œThe ghost is supposedly a mean piece of work and can appear as a child or as a grown woman. The child version sounds creepier to me. I’ve been assured she can’t act on the physical world, which means she can’t hurt you unless she scares you to death.” She looked up from the herbs she was chopping and splashed some of the pasta water into the pan, sloshed it around with more butter and garlic.
    â€œZoe . . .” Marcie continued. “Well, if you’re going to be staying here, you might as well know. She’s a sad case. Her sister Abigail is very ill, going to die, I hear. So yeah, Zoe might have an attitude problem, but no one holds it against her. Anyone can see how much she loves Abigail.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with her?” Layla put a hip up on a stool.
    Marcie shrugged. “I don’t know. Like everything else around here, it’s top secret. This place collects odd sorts. And when I say odd, I mean scary. Abigail is special.” Marcie leaned in. “I’ve heard that she can foretell the future, and that it’s killing her. I don’t know what she is, or her sister, for that matter, but they aren’t like you and me.”