The coffee table was covered in open books when the doorbell rang. Rachel didn’t jump at the sound. She let out a little sigh, realizing she was more relaxed than she’d been in months.
She felt safe. Safe enough to convince Garrett to take a shower and leave her on her own for a little while.
“Coming!”
She ran to the counter to grab the censer before heading for the door. She had already refilled it and lit fresh incense, knowing Jazz would arrive soon. Now Rachel had the fun of explaining why she needed to smudge Jazz when she came inside.
The windows along the side of the front door let Rachel see Jazz standing on the stoop, holding a bright green bag decorated with a picture of a dragon lying on its back and reading a book. Its tail wound around a crystal ball.
Rachel smiled as she opened the door. “Hi!”
Jazz hesitated before saying, “Hi.”
Her dark eyes glittered strangely in the late-afternoon light and her long black hair hung around her shoulders as if she hadn’t done more than brush it. She still wore her signature black leather pants, but instead of her usual white V-neck T-shirt, she had on a dark, oversized sweater that practically engulfed her slight frame.
Rachel panicked. Where was the cocky smile and knowing gaze? Aside from a few times when Jazz lost her temper, Rachel had never known Jazz to be genuinely upset.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Are you kidding me?” Jazz’s voice was shrill instead of her normal rich tenor. “Yes, something happened. I haven’t seen you since you left the hospital, and you’ve barely texted or called!”
She stepped over the threshold and swung the door shut, then grabbed Rachel in a crushing hug. Rachel wanted to make a joke to try to lighten the moment, but she couldn’t. Jazz’s affection was usually lots of light touches and quick hugs. She had never hugged Rachel like this before.
A tight ball of emotion filled Rachel’s chest, making it hard to breathe, to think, to do anything but not cry. Careful of the censer, she hugged Jazz back.
“Are you okay?” Jazz asked. “You look better.”
“I am better. Getting there, anyway.”
“Why does it smell like a temple in here?”
Rachel laughed, finally pulling back from the hug. “That would be from this.” She lifted the censer, streamers of smoke following its movements.
Jazz arched an eyebrow and waited patiently for an explanation. Much more normal for her.
“If you don’t mind, I need to smudge you.”
“You want to cleanse my aura?”
“That’s the idea.”
Jazz stepped away from Rachel and lifted both arms. Rachel moved the censer around Jazz’s body, wafting the smoke closer with one hand. Knowing about auras—the energy field around people’s bodies—was one thing. But understanding smudging? Compared to discussing her ability with Garrett, talking to Jazz would be a breeze.
“If you need me to open the bag to cleanse the stuff inside, let me know,” she said.
Rachel finished her circuit, holding the censer under the bag for a few moments.
“That should be good enough.” She let out a small laugh. “I know we’ve never discussed paranormal stuff before, but I have to say I’m very grateful you’re into it and already know so much.”
“I didn’t know you were into it at all.”
“It’s kind of been a necessity for me. Let’s sit down and talk.” Rachel took the bag from Jazz, then led her into the living room. “Can I get you a drink or anything?”
“I’m good.” Jazz walked around the coffee table to sit on the couch, looking over the books Rachel had been using for research. “I’m guessing this isn’t a passing interest.”
“No.”
Jazz looked around the room and noticed the poppet hanging above the stationary side of the sliding glass doors that led to Garrett’s back patio. “I see you’re already redecorating.”
A little surge of jealousy ran through Rachel. How often was Jazz a visitor that she noticed such a small change to Garrett’s house so quickly?
Rachel shook it off. Jazz was super-observant. And Garrett could have over whomever he wanted. If he and Jazz hooked up, great. Great for both of them. Rachel wanted them to be happy, even though her heart sort of stuttered at the thought of Garrett with someone else. Anyone else.
“It’s a poppet. They keep away spirits.” Rachel cleared a small space on the coffee table, then sat on the floor in front of it.
She opened the bag from Bookwyrm and pulled out the supplies she had asked for. Some silver jewelry wire and a wire cutter, a silver chain in a velvet pouch, and a small clear plastic bag that held a few stones.
“Snowflake obsidian, fluorite, and opal, as requested,” Jazz said. “I picked out three that looked like you could make them work in a necklace.”
“These are perfect, thanks.”
Rachel emptied the bag of stones onto her palm, then placed them on the table in front of her. The first, black with speckles of gray that looked like snow, the second a translucent mix of rich purple and blue, and the last a milky white with iridescent colors only visible when viewed from the right angles.
Jazz had managed to pick specimens that would work well together aesthetically. That was good, since Rachel hoped Elsa would wear it constantly as soon as it was hers.
Rachel set to work.
“I spoke with Elsa on the phone today,” Rachel said. “She told me what she can do.”
“Elsa can do a lot of things.”
“So can I.”
Rachel paused in her work. She looked up at Jazz, wanting to see the expression on her face when she heard about Rachel’s abilities.
“I can hear spirits. Sometimes I see them in reflections. Especially mirrors.”
Jazz was silent, her lips slightly pursed and one eyebrow arched on her forehead. She stared at Rachel for what felt like a long time.
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“I’m being inscrutable. It’s an Asian thing.”
Rachel laughed and Jazz finally smiled.
“Okay,” Jazz said. “I need more information.”
“You know how I sometimes get distracted? That’s usually when I’m hearing spirits having a conversation. Florida is filled with ghosts. That’s why I’m making this for Elsa.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“Elsa travels astrally. She leaves her body behind, ready to be occupied.”
Rachel was still a little nervous talking openly about what she could do, but at least Jazz would understand the logistics of it. She had always been openly fascinated by the paranormal.
“Occupied?”
“It’s easy for a spirit to enter an empty body.”
“You’re talking about possession.”
Rachel nodded. “Some ghosts can even take over bodies that have souls in them. If they have a strong enough personality, they can overcome the existing consciousness. All they need is an opening or conduit. It would be easy for a spirit to take over Elsa’s body while she’s traveling.”
Jazz’s lips thinned. She gestured at the necklace that Rachel was wiring together.
“Are you sure this will protect her?”
“It should. She’s been lucky.”
“What about a salt circle? Would that help?”
“If she can control when she travels, yes, that would keep spirits away. I’m not sure how the circle would affect her, though. It might trap her inside or keep her from being able to get back. We can run some experiments and see.”
“She’s not going to want to try anything until Dante is better. Since she can control her ability by not being around any art, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Art?”
“That’s what triggers her ability. I guess it’s like you only seeing spirits in reflections.”
Rachel nodded. “That will buy us some time.”
“What about you? Are these poppets enough to keep spirits from bothering you?”
“That plus spraying saltwater on all the doors and windows. Florida is so humid and there’s already salt everywhere from the ocean being close. It doesn’t take much extra to ward entryways.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. What do you do when you leave the house?”
Rachel was quiet for a moment. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Elsa’s warning about secrets resurfaced in Rachel’s mind. The truth, then.
“I don’t.”
Jazz’s eyebrows hiked up her forehead. “You can’t stay here forever.”
“I’ll figure something out. If Dante and Elsa are staying in the city for a while, maybe I can stay at their place.”
“That isn’t what I meant. You can’t let ghosts keep you imprisoned for the rest of your life. They can’t hurt you, can they?”
“It’s difficult for them to hurt people physically through direct contact. They’re more likely to try to startle me so I jump out in front of a car or maybe impel an animal to bite me or something.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s hard for spirits to control animals. They’d have to be extremely willful and focused. Death tends to distract people and scatter their thoughts. It takes them a while to regroup and be able to think rationally.”
Unless they had a single-minded focus in life. Like tormenting people. She wished that Michael was her only experience with that type of personality—on both sides of corporeal existence. She had done her best to convince spirits she couldn’t hear them anymore with very good reason.
“What about—”
“Michael is dead and gone. His body was cremated. Without any remains, his spirit can’t linger.” Hopefully, that would be the last time she had to talk about the matter.
Jazz let out a huge breath and nodded. “Okay. What about these other yahoos? How do we get them to stop bugging you?”
“I’m still working on my long-term plan.”
She could ward her mirrors—very carefully—and make herself a set of earrings like her mother wore to deafen herself to the voices. If Rachel had spent less time and energy on ignoring her abilities, she would have thought to do so years ago.
“There’s more you’re not telling me,” Jazz said. “I want to help.”
“The best thing you can do is get this to Elsa.”
Rachel held up the necklace for them both to see. It had actually turned out pretty well. The stones were balanced, and Rachel had positioned them to enhance the color and beauty of each component. The silver chain matched the jewelry wire she had used and would look gorgeous against Elsa’s perpetual tan.
Jazz shook her head. “You are a miracle worker. I keep telling you I could sell your work in the gallery easily.”
“I have a trust fund, remember?”
“Is that why you fought me so hard on getting a paycheck?” One corner of Jazz’s mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smirk.
“The knowledge you’ve shared with me is worth more than any paycheck. You’ve given me a chance to do something meaningful that I love.”
“How’s that working out for you?” There was a bitter edge to Jazz’s voice.
“Are you kidding? I’ve learned more from you than anyone.”
Rachel looked up to Jazz for how she handled herself and others. Jazz didn’t put up with crap from anyone. She didn’t even put up with the crap Rachel piled on herself.
She had pushed Rachel to try new things and take on responsibility for projects that had intimidated her. Jazz refused to accept the limits Rachel had set on herself, and because of that, Rachel had become a stronger person. Strong enough to stand up to her mother. Strong enough to finally leave.
“If knowledge is all you wanted, you could have gone back to school,” Jazz said.
“There are no schools that could give me the experience I’ve gained working with you.”
Jazz opened her mouth, but shut it abruptly. It was unnerving to see her censoring herself. Not as unnerving as the way her eyes started to glisten again. She cleared her throat, but her voice was still gravelly when she spoke and even lower than usual.
“Is there anything special I need to do when I give the necklace to Elsa?”
“No, but I need to charge it with an intention first. If you give me a moment, I can do that now.”
Jazz nodded, then leaned back against the couch. Setting the intention in front of someone was going to be a little weird. After cleansing the entire house with Garrett, Rachel was starting to get used to performing rituals around people, though.
Holding the necklace cupped between her hands—like it was a butterfly that might try to fly away—Rachel closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She shut out all her doubts and fears and focused on what she wanted.
Elsa safe and sound, authentically herself, no outside influences present or affecting her in a harmful manner. Rachel held the thought for a few moments, then imagined the thought as energy and pushed it into the necklace.
She chose two runes to go along with it. For protection, Algiz—which looked like a vertical line with a capital “Y” superimposed over it. And Uruz—an upside-down, angular “U”—for strength. She focused on each symbol, merging them with the energy she visualized infusing the necklace.
When she was done, she opened her eyes. She set the necklace on the coffee table, then flicked her hands to release any residual energy.
“Seriously? That’s it?”
“The simplest solutions are usually the most powerful.”
“I might have taught you about running a gallery, but I’m guessing you had other mentors.”
“I had two teachers,” Rachel said. “One on each side.”
“Each side of what?”
“One was a spirit. The other was a medium.”
“I suppose that makes sense. Actually, a lot of things I wondered about you are making sense now. Like why you try to get people to think you’re scatterbrained when you’re actually brilliant.”
Rachel felt her eyebrows leap up her forehead. She faked a laugh, trying to recover, but she was off her game.
“I don’t know about that. But I appreciate the compliment.”
“It wasn’t a compliment. It was a statement of fact. And you’re doing it right now.” Jazz let out a long sigh. “I wish you would stop.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Forget it. I’m just glad you’re away from your mother. I’ve been trying to get you out of that pit since we met. Garrett’s going to get a deep discount on his next piece for accomplishing that.”
“A pit? I’ve been living in a mansion.”
“That’s putting lipstick on a pig. Your mom could suck the joy out of a sold-out opening show. I’ve seen her do it. Belittle your accomplishments and demean you in front of a room full of people.”
It wasn’t the worst thing her mother had ever done. Rachel forced a laugh again, but it was an uneasy sound, even to her ears.
“You’re the one who makes the sales.”
“Stop. Now you’re doing it to yourself.”
“You sound like Garrett.”
“Good. If we all remind you to disregard the crap she’s told you over the years, it might help you to stop telling yourself the same lies she taught you.”
Rachel felt herself tear up. She always tried not to think about the things her mother said, pulling a comfortable numbness over her heart during the worst of it. That shield was cracking, along with all of Rachel’s boundaries.
She shoved thoughts of her mother into a tiny box in the back of her mind. There were other things she needed to address. Friends to protect and spirits to help.
“Thanks,” Rachel said.
Jazz nodded. “Will it disrupt the energy if I touch the necklace?”
“It’s best if others handle it as little as possible.” Rachel slid the necklace into the velvet bag that had held the silver chain, then handed the pouch to Jazz.
“I’ll see that she gets it tonight,” Jazz said. “But what about you? How do we get all these ghosts to leave you alone?”
“I can take care of myself.”
Jazz reached across the table and grabbed Rachel’s hand. She squeezed it hard.
“We take care of each other. Now more than ever.”
Rachel couldn’t speak. A few choking sounds came out of her throat, her eyes burning as she held back tears—tears she saw mirrored in Jazz’s eyes.
Jazz dropped to her knees next to Rachel and hugged her again. Rachel buried her face in Jazz’s hair and squeezed her just as hard.
When Jazz pulled back, her eyes were red. She actually sniffed. Rachel’s stomach felt weightless, like she was on a rollercoaster just before a drop-off.
“You need me—you need anything—you call. Understand?”
Rachel nodded.
“Okay.” Jazz put her hands on Rachel’s cheeks and kissed her forehead as she rose. “Give Garrett my regards. And be sure to lock the door after me.”
Rachel nodded again. She couldn’t do anything else in that moment, couldn’t even will herself to move.
She was stunned. She stayed where she was on the floor as she watched Jazz leave.