Shades of the Wolf. Karen Whiddon
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turn,” she said, earning a reluctant smile from him.
“Go ahead.”
“Remember, we’re trying to get a rough idea of how long you’ve been a ghost,” she said.
Though he didn’t know why that mattered, he decided to play along. “Okay.”
“When did you enlist?”
He sighed. “About two months after graduating from high school.”
“No college?”
“Nope. Not only did I not have the money or the grades, but I didn’t have the inclination. I was working a dead-end job, learning how to do bodywork at a Chevy dealership. I woke up one morning, decided I wanted to be a soldier and drove to the army recruiter’s office.”
“And then—”
“My turn.” He softened his tone to lessen the sting. “How long were you married?”
“Nope,” she said, turning away, but not before he saw the hurt flash across her face. “My marriage is off-limits. Ask something else.”
Thinking quickly, he spoke. “What about friends? Surely you must have some friends in this town.”
She gave him a look designed to stop a charging leopard in its tracks. “You’re going to keep pushing this, are you?”
“I’m just trying to figure out what makes you tick, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t. There’s not a reason in the world you would need to know.”
“Actually, there is.” He gave her what he hoped was an unguarded smile. “If we’re going to be working together, I should at least learn a few things about you.”
“I talk to ghosts,” she said, her voice curt. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Not really.” Equally blunt, he rubbed the back of his neck. One thing that always startled him was how he occasionally still had human aches and pains and itches, even in ethereal form.
“What?” Staring at him, she frowned. “Explain yourself.”
“You talk to ghosts. I get that. It’s great, and that particular talent is what enabled me to get you to see and hear me. But how is the ability to view spirits going to assist you in freeing my sister?”
She looked thoroughly annoyed. “Maybe I should remind you that you asked me to help you with this, not the other way around.”
“I did. But I was under the impression you had some form of magical ability, as well.”
Now. Now he expected she would finally admit the truth.
“Well, you were wrong.”
His heart sank. “It’s more likely you just don’t know your own powers.”
“Really?” Shaking her head, she snorted. “I know myself better than you think. And to answer your other question, I do have a few friends. They’re all sort of fringe people like me.”
“Fringe people?”
“Yeah.” Expression carefully blank, she smiled at him. “As a matter of fact, you need to meet one of them. My friend Juliet. She owns the yoga studio and metaphysical bookstore downtown and calls herself a medium.”
“And you don’t believe her?”
“I have no opinion either way. She’s my friend and whatever she wants to accept as true is fine with me.” A hint of mischief sparked in her amazing eyes as she widened her smile, which made him catch his breath. “That’s why I want you to meet her. I’m curious to see if she senses your presence.”
“Has she ever sensed one of your other ghostly visitors?”
“No, but I’ve never brought one into her studio. I usually get rid of them as soon as they appear.”
Curious, he nodded. “Do they appear often?”
Instantly, her smile vanished. “Too much,” she said grimly. “There are an awful lot of dead people trying to communicate with the living.”
“You know, you could make money if you had a TV show and traveled around the country like the Long Island Medium. Why don’t you?”
Clearly, his attempt at a joke fell flat. She looked at him as if he’d grown two ghostly heads. “That’s not for me. All I want is for the specters to leave me alone. Which, thanks to you, they are.”
When he was in the afterlife, Anabel’s energy had pulled him to her. He’d been seeking, and then the blaze of energy she gave off shone like a beacon, cutting through gray. The fact that she’d been able to see and hear him had been a welcome bonus.
“You draw them to you,” he said slowly.
“How? And why? Surely there must be a way to turn it off.”
He debated the best way to tell her. Finally, he decided to just say it. “Anabel, I believe you have magic inside you. Untapped, but powerful. We’re going to need to figure out how to bring it to the surface.”
“Bring it to...” They stopped at a red light and she turned to face him. “Why would I want to do something like that?”
If her crossed arms were any indication, she definitely wasn’t going to like what he had to say next. “Because whoever has my sister is a warlock. And you’re going to need your magic to defeat him.”
* * *
“A warlock?” Repeating Tyler’s words, Anabel sucked in her breath. As a shape-shifter, she knew there were all kinds of other supernatural beings out there, like vampires and mer-people, but as far as she knew, no one had any special powers, except for the fae. Even as a child in school, when they’d learned the history of the Pack along with all the other supernatural, witches and warlocks had never been mentioned. Not once.
While she—and others of her kind—could change form, as far as she knew, no one could fly. Or start fires with a look or a wave of their hand. Magic didn’t exist.
Yet Tyler talked as if it did. There were certainly insane living people; therefore, it followed that there could be crazy dead people, as well. “Look, Tyler. I agreed to help try and find your sister. You didn’t say anything about having to defeat some sort of magical being.”
“I believed—believe you have magic too.”
She waited, in case there was more, but he didn’t elaborate.
“Well, if you need somebody who can fight magic with magic, you’ve picked the wrong person,” she said. “I’ll assist in every way I can, but you’ll need to find another witch or warlock to help get her out once we find her.”
“Deal,” he said promptly, which sort of annoyed her. “Do you know any witches?”
Fine. He wanted a witch, she’d get him one. “My friend the yoga instructor is not only a medium but a witch.” Okay, technically Juliet was Wiccan, but Tyler was a ghost and Juliet wouldn’t be able to see him.
Tyler’s ghostly form briefly solidified, which she was beginning to realize meant excitement. “Do you think she’ll help us?”
Immediately, she regretted saying anything. “Tyler, she’s Wiccan. She runs a yoga studio and metaphysical bookstore, like I said. If she practices any magic, which I doubt, it’s not powerful.”
“How do you know?” His husky voice vibrated with enthusiasm. “She might hide it from you. Most magical beings don’t go around advertising their power, you know.”
“No, I don’t know.” Apparently, he was serious. She sighed. Maybe new insights into the world were learned in the afterlife.
“When can we meet her?” Tyler asked, his hazel