Lost Souls

11

Jason and Cait sat at a table in the bar, bent over a napkin. The lighting was poor, and her chicken scratch didn’t make it any easier to read the words she’d scribbled.

“I need something that rhymes with peek,” she muttered.

“Seek?”

“Oh, that’s good.” She scratched a couple more lines before pushing the napkin across the table. “What do you think?”

Jason held it to the light to read the spell she’d worked on and then lifted his face to give her a dubious smile.

Cait frowned, blushing, because she knew she sucked at poetry. “The Powers know not to expect anything fancy from me,” she said defensively.

“Maybe they’ve got a sense of humor,” he said, sliding it back.

Cait wadded the napkin in her hand and shook it. “This will just have to do. I’ve already wasted half an hour. There’s no telling what kind of trouble those Reel PIs have gotten into.”

They took the elevator. Cait kept her gaze fixed on the digital readout. The elevator was old and slow and tended to shake a bit as it rose.

When they reached the third floor, Cait flipped the stop switch and waited to see if an alarm rang. When it didn’t, she glanced at Jason. “Good a place as any. Private.” She reached into her pocket and removed the vial of butterfly blood ink, shook it, and then pointed at his chest and twirled her finger.

Making a face, Jason turned and hunched over.

She set the napkin against him, uncorked the bottle, and pulled out a quill.

“That gonna bleed through my shirt?”

“Probably.”

“Great. Just what I need.”

“All right,” she muttered. “I’ll use the floor.”

Jason straightened and stood back as she knelt and bent over the napkin. As soon as she dipped the quill in the ink and began to write, the paper soaked up the first letter, forming an illegible blob. So she copied the rest of the words in large block letters to the side of the spell she’d written in plain ink.

When she was done, she straightened, held out the paper, and took a deep breath. “Ready for this?” she asked, looking at Jason for moral support.

“Am I going to see anything?” He held his body stiffly.

“Not likely.”

“You’re the witch. Go for it.”

A pounding sounded on the elevator door. “Anyone in there?”

She aimed a glance at Jason for him to handle it while she closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.

“No problems here,” he shouted, his words echoing loudly against the metal walls. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Get a damn room!”

Cait closed her eyes and evened out her breaths. She tried to imagine a riverbank with clear blue water. Sunlight filtering through shade trees. When she had the image locked in her mind, she felt calm envelop her, her thoughts narrowing, all the noise and hurry drifting away.

In a moment of quiet, she opened her eyes and read from the napkin.

“Spirits guide me, lift the veil.

No harm or greed do I entail.”

She heard a groan, but ignored it.

“Let me take a tiny peek

And find the spirit that I seek:

Sylvia Reyes.”

She bit her lip. “Think that did it?”

“That took you half an hour?”

The lights in the elevator dimmed for a long moment before flickering back on.

A silvery outline of a woman filled in slowly, like ink spilled into a glass. An echo of a scream started faintly, then grew and grew. Color exploded through the figure: bottle-blonde hair, red Sharpie-outlined lips and thick dark mascara, a shimmery, too-tight top and much-too-short-for-church skirt. Hot pink heels.

“Holy sheet!” Sylvia Reyes’s hands patted her abdomen, and then she bent over to look at her belly before at last darting a glance up at Cait. “Lady, what the hell did joo do?”

“Did it work?” Jason whispered beside her.

Cait didn’t take her gaze off the apparition glaring daggers her way. “She’s arrived, all right. Sylvia, I’m Cait. This is Jason. He can’t see you.”

“You some kinda spirit guide come to tell me joo made a mistake?” Her thick Spanish accent clicked like castanets. Her words were bold, but there was real fear in her eyes.

“A mistake?”

“Joo gonna take me down there?” she asked, her nasal tones pinched.

“Are you talking about Hell? Were you in Heaven?”

Sylvia lifted her shoulders. “I don’ know. It was nice. Like mi abuela’s house in Meh-hee-ko.” She aimed a leery glance around the elevator car. “Uh-oh. I know what thees place is.”

“You’re not in Hell,” Cait rushed to reassure her, “but I did bring you back to where you were murdered.”

“Joo some mean bitch.” She jerked her head. “Thees the las’ place I wanna be. Crazy sheet happened here.”

Cait offered an apologetic smile. “We know. And it’s going to keep happening unless I can find a way to stop it. That’s why I need you.”

“Joo don’ understand.” Her hands clenched. “He ain’t human.”

“Believe me, Sylvia, I’m well aware of that fact.”

“Send me back,” the woman said, stomping one pink stiletto.

“I will,” Cait said, ignoring Jason’s raised eyebrows. “As soon as we have what we need. And as soon as I figure out how to do that,” she added under her breath.

“What?” Sylvia’s dark eyebrows drew together in a ferocious frown. “Joo brought me here and joo don’ know how to send me back?”

Cait winced at the woman’s shout. “I wasn’t a hundred percent sure this spell would even work,” she said, holding up the napkin, “but if I can summon you, surely I can put you back.”

Sylvia huffed and folded her arms over her bosomy chest. “I gotta bad feeling about joo, mija. Some bruja joo are.”

As she blew out a deep breath, Cait’s cheeks billowed. “Just stay close. The guy you were coming to meet, can you tell me anything about him?”

Sylvia’s dark gaze slid sideways to Cait. “Joo know about him?”

“Oscar told us everything.”

“Oscar! Pfft! Why I ever married him, I don’ know. Man liked to use his fists to ween arguments.”

“The police are wondering if maybe he was in cahoots with your lover boy.”

“No es posible. Eduardo is everything that slimy toad eez not. Kind, romantic—did joo know he called me his mariposa—”

“Rubia, I know. I get it. He was a doll. But he might also have been an incubus.”

At Sylvia’s blank stare, Cait shrugged. “Another kind of demon. A seducer.”

“Mija, now that I can believe.” She sighed. “He was more handsome than Antonio Banderas.”

“Antonio?” Cait asked, wondering if there was another boyfriend lurking around.

“Banderas—joo know. Zorro! So handsome he took away my breat’. And so kind…” Her eyelids dipped dreamily.

Cait couldn’t recall anyone among the guests who resembled the actor. “She says her boyfriend looked like Antonio Banderas.”

“A shape-shifting incubus?” Jason murmured.

Cait pursed her lips. “Well, hell. Then that would mean he could be anyone.” She sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head as she realized the creature’s true nature. “He changes appearance, even demeanor, according to a woman’s fantasies. That’s how he plays them.” Her heart thudded sickeningly against her chest. “Fuck, that’s how he played me!”

“What?” Jason’s gaze sharpened and he edged closer. “Sam know about this?”

“Nothing happened. It was just… flirting. Sort of.” Her body stilled. “Fuck. If he knows I’m on to him, I wonder if he can change his appearance again to hide.”

“Joo know Eduardo?” Sylvia asked, excitement quickening her already rapid-fire words. “We gonna see him? If he was in cahoots with Oscar, I got some t’ings to say to him.”

Cait reached out to hit the switch. The doors slid open onto a dark hallway. “Jesus, what the fuck now?” She peeked outside the car. Red beams of light pierced the darkness up and down the hallway. She released a relieved breath and stepped out. “Flashlights.”

“The power’s out?” Jason whispered, as he joined her in the hallway.

“I see a spirit!” Madame Xavier’s voice echoed in the darkness. “Her essence is bright, luminous. She’s right beside you, Cait.”

Cait was instantly glad for the darkness because she rolled her eyes. “Sam?” she called.

“Right behind Madame,” he said, irritation deepening his voice. “I see you had some success.”

Cait made a face as he shone the light at her. “A lot of good it’s gonna do.”

“I don’ like thees,” Sylvia hissed with a shake of her head.

“You don’t have a thing to worry about,” Cait whispered out of the side of her mouth. “You don’t have anything any demon here wants.”

“Got more than joo do, chica,” she said, lifting her heavy breasts with her hands and pressing them together.

Glad for once that no one else could hear or see what Sylvia did, Cait moved forward, meeting Sam in the middle of the corridor.

He lifted her hand and slapped a flashlight against her palm. “Clayton insisted,” he said, his voice growling with irritation. “They’re using infrared.”

“Super,” she murmured. “Which means we’re left in the dark.”

“You’re the one who thought this was a good idea.”

Mina rushed forward. “I see a large smudge, roundish, next to Cait.” Her voice was tight with excitement.

“I not round,” Sylvia grumbled.

“Round is a shape,” Cait quipped.

Cait aimed her flashlight past Mina, in the direction of the hallway where the bodies were found. “Sparky hasn’t joined us yet?”

“Not a peep,” Sam muttered. “Beginning to think this might be a bust.”

A shadow ducked from around the corner of the possessed hall, and then back.

“You see that?” Cait asked, pointing. “Somebody else is up here.”

“We sure about that?” Sam asked, then raised his voice to shout, “Booger, Clayton!”

“We’re watching the feed,” came a muffled response. “We’ve already got some great stuff. Orbs, that round smudge Madame Xavier saw.”

“I not round.”

Cait scowled. “Shush, the only one who can hear you is me.”

“Huh. How nice for joo. See how joo like bein’ ignored. La cucaracha, la cucaracha, ya no puede—”

“Seriously, you’re gonna sing that?”

“I’m a Mexican woman, not Patrick Swayze. Ya no puede caminar—”

“Sylvia, this is not the place!” Cait hissed.

“I’m scared.” She shook her head, blonde hair flipping from cheek to cheek. “Somet’ing don’ feel right.”

“You feel?”

“O’ course. I feel the floor beneat’ my feet ot’erwise I’d be falling t’rough it.”

“Can you feel me?”

Sylvia moved to touch her arm, but her fingers slipped right through her.

“That tickled.”

“I didn’t touch you,” Jason said beside her.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” Cait shot a glare to the side.

“She still there?”

“Sharpie-outlined lips and all.”

Sylvia huffed again. “Stays on longer than lipstick. No matter how much thees lips get kissed.”

“I’ll say,” Cait drawled. “And TMI, by the way.”

From farther down the hall, Madame Xavier fluttered her fingers. “I’ve never seen a spirit that dense or large.”

“She callin’ me fat? She’s got two cheens.”

Cait bit back a laugh. “You’re growing on me, Syl.”

She glanced back down the hall.

Madame Xavier had moved farther away. Her head cocked toward the forbidden hallway. She took several timid steps forward.

Oh no! Cait’s eyes widened, she began to run. Thirty feet separated them. She’d never reach the woman in time. “Madame Xavier, come back!”

“I told her not to go within twenty feet of that hall,” Sam said, his feet stomping beside her.

A pop sounded, and then a bright light shone from the hall. Standing in profile, Madame Xavier craned her neck to stare down the hallway, her gaze snagging on something, her eyes growing round.

“Sam, it’s charging up!” They were ten feet away, but Cait knew they weren’t going to make it.

“Oh my Lord,” the large redheadeded psychic said before a blinding arc darted outward, striking her wrist and then pulling upward like a whip.

Her arm jerked up, and she screamed.

She and Sam raced the last few feet but were too late. The arc whipped again and pulled Madame Xavier off her feet and out of sight, her scream halting abruptly. Another, fainter flash lit the hall.

If Cait had blinked she wouldn’t have seen them. Five nearly transparent spirits, faces locked in horror, Madame Xavier’s among them.

“Ohmygod… ohmygod.” Clayton fell to his knees and dragged in a deep, wheezing breath. “Mina, tell me you got that!”

“What a prince,” Syl whispered, her face ashen, even for a ghost.

The overhead lights flickered on.

Cait blinked then swung her head, finding Sam’s position before she could let loose the panic gripping her chest and manage to form a thought. Because for a second, her mind had frozen with fear.

“Madame looked thinner,” Sylvia said, her eyes tearing up.

Aiming a quelling glare at Sylvia, Cait edged toward Sam as he darted a glance around the corner. His shoulders dropped. “Nothing. Goddammit.”

“She’ll be famous.”

They both turned their heads to stare at Clayton, who’d snuck up behind Cait.

The large man’s face was ghostly pale, his eyes a little wild. “I know it’s sad, but she was well aware of the danger.”

Sam gripped the neck of Clayton’s T-shirt and backed him up against the opposite wall. “Did you talk her into going there?”

Clayton’s mouth opened and closed like a widemouthed bass. “She said she’d never seen anything like this place before. It’s what she wanted. To look beyond the veil, she said.”

Sam gave him a little shake, then loosened his grip. “I seriously doubt she intended to commit suicide,” he said, raking a hand through his hair and glaring.

“No, she thought perhaps she could communicate through it.”

Sam gave him one more disgusted stare, and then swept everyone gathered in the hallway. “That’s it. Everyone back. You,” he said, pointing at Clayton. “Get back into your room and close the fucking door. If anyone pops a nose outside, I’ll shoot it off.”

As the Reel PIs crew ambled back into their room, soft sobs sounded beside Cait. Glancing sideways, she saw rivulets of black mascaraed tears running down Sylvia’s face.

Sylvia scrubbed her tears with the back of her hand. “I know how scared she musta been. One minute joo knockin’ on Romeo’s door, and the next joo flyin’ through the air.” She rubbed a hand over her ass. “The landing really hurts.”

Cait shook her head to clear the sluggishness that followed an adrenaline buzz. “The landing. Where does that happen?”

“Inside a wall, then onto a floor. The wall opens up like a great big black mouth and takes you.”

Cait shivered. “Jesus, Syl. This can’t happen again. We have to find the incubus and somehow force him to finger his boss.”

When she glanced back at Sam, she spotted him staring, his face as dark as a storm cloud, hands on his hips. “Sylvia give you a description?” he asked, his voice dead even.

“It’s not very helpful. Eduardo looked like her favorite celebrity crush, Antonio Banderas.”

“I didn’t see anyone who looked like that during the questioning.”

Cait screwed up her face in a grimace, knowing Sam wasn’t going to like hearing this. “That’s because he looks like Eddie Bradley now.” She closed her lips and waited for him to process.

Sam’s eyes blinked once in confusion, then narrowed. “The EMT? How do you know?” His shoulders bunched.

“He flirted with me.”

Sam’s gaze hardened further as he stepped closer, towering over her. “You never mentioned it.”

His voice was so calm she knew he was getting madder by the second.

Cait ducked her head and rubbed a toe on the ugly carpet. Anything but meet his glance. “I didn’t think it was important.” From beneath her eyelashes, she watched his chest rise around a swift intake of breath.

“Dammit, Cait. That’s not for you to decide.”

Cait jerked up her chin. “How was I supposed to know his interest was in any way related to this?”

“He flirted with you. He knew you were with me. What the hell kind of human guy flirts with a death wish?”

Cait couldn’t help the flush of warmth that settled low in her belly. The man said the sexiest things all by accident. Another flush heated her cheeks. Now was not the time to notice something like that. A woman had just died.

Sam shook his head, likely reading everything she’d just thought.

“Mija, he jours?” Sylvia asked, stepping so close they could have bumped shoulders if Sylvia wasn’t a shade. The woman’s sideways glance at her looked unimpressed as it slid up and down her body. “No accountin’ for taste.”

Jason walked past them. “Just have to make sure.” He flipped open the door to room 323 and disappeared inside.

A moment later he returned, nodding to Sam, and then giving Cait a weary look. “Since you’re the brainchild here, you figure out how we’re gonna tell Leland there’s another body in the wall.”