Sarah Gilman - Ghosts of the Falls

A date, even if it wasn’t really a date, would be a good note on which to end his dead-end existence.

“Can you hear me?” Jade’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.

He lacked hands, but he reached toward her face with the concentrated energy that comprised his self and stroked her cheek.

A shiver shook her body and she stepped back. Her voice firmed, revealing the power of the exorcist that lay just out of sight beneath her sweet face. “Don’t touch me.”

Dutch retreated skyward, startling a flock of ravens out of the pine trees. After a long moment, Jade got in her car and drove to the cabin at the far end of the knoll. She dragged three large bags from her trunk—did women really need that much luggage?—and went inside.

He hovered above the park as the sun set in a vibrant display of gold. If the exorcism proved successful, he wouldn’t be around to see another sunset. Better to embrace oblivion than to spend endless years alone, and what better way to go out than in the hands of a beautiful woman?

Waiting for water to boil for tea, Jade called Dutch and told him in which cabin to find her. She hung up, carried a steaming mug of raspberry tea onto the porch, and breathed in the crisp morning air.

She’d gotten her first restful night’s sleep since she’d learned of an old woman’s death a week ago, a murder committed by a ghost Jade had refused to exorcise. Prior to the murder, the ghost had harmed no one and damaged no property—he wasn’t even powerful. He’d haunted a rarely used barn, for goodness’ sake. Jade made the decision not to destroy the spirit, despite family policy to deal with all ghosts encountered.

Exorcisms caused so much pain. The horrific screams didn’t bother her when they came from dangerous spirits, but in that barn, she’d faced the scared, confused form of a teenager.

Damn it, he’d conned her and managed to command enough power to wield a knife. It wasn’t just embarrassing, it was tragic. Tears swelled in Jade’s eyes, and her trembling hand made the spoon clatter against the ceramic mug. The elderly property owner’s death was her fault. Aaron, her older brother, had wanted to fire her on the spot and still hadn’t relented. Jeremy, the youngest but the most natural leader of the three of them, had given her this opportunity to prove she still had the grit and desire to perform a full exorcism. If she failed here, Jeremy would support her removal from the family business; not as a punishment, but out of concern for her happiness.

Thank goodness for the rest. She needed her strength and her wits to take on a spirit. Part of her had wanted to jump right in the previous evening, but one of the first lessons Aaron had taught her was to work during the day when spirits were at their weakest and the living at their strongest.

The breeze shifted and the scent of burnt sugar invaded her lungs. Her skin buzzed as if she’d brushed against an electric fence, and the tiny hairs on her arms stood on end.

Well, at least the ghost wasn’t shy.

“Good morning, spirit.” She set her tea down on a plastic table, covered in dust and pine needles. “Do you know what I am and why I’m here?”

The presence didn’t answer.

“Why did you burn down the motel?”

The scent of burnt sugar strengthened: an emotional reaction. Anger? Regret?

She folded her arms. Even if he regretted his actions, she needed to do her job, not repeat previous mistakes. “If you have something to say, now is the time.”

A frigid gale slammed the cabin. The plastic table flipped over, spilling the tea. She jumped back and opened her mouth to speak the words that would force the spirit back, but the presence had vanished on its own, leaving abrupt stillness in its wake.

Holy shit. A spirit who could manipulate the elements like that was a powerful entity, for certain. She had to put her job as priority, even though a strong part of her wanted to spend time with Dutch. This ghost would fight back, hard.

Maybe she could ask Dutch out for coffee after the fact?

Jeremy might be right. Despite her gut-knotting need to prove herself to her brothers, she longed for simpler things. Normal things, such as a gaze from rich brown eyes with green flecks. Warm, confident hands on her skin. A smile pulled at her lips as she straightened the table. Yes, Dutch had the look of a man who knew how to touch a woman.

She went inside for more tea and to finish getting ready. Trekking in the woods called for jeans and a tank top, the light-tan one that made her plain brown eyes look rich and deep, her dark skin darker.

Not that it mattered what she looked like. This was work, not a date. She sighed and braided her mahogany hair.

A knock sounded on the door just as she slipped a band around her braid.

Dutch’s voice called, “Jade?”

“You got the right place.” She slung the tan canvas bag with her materials over her shoulder and joined him on the porch. Like yesterday, he wore dark brown pants and work boots, but he’d covered his upper body with a brown T-shirt.

Shame.

“Morning.” They spoke in unison, and a flush crept up Jade’s cheeks.

“Did you sense the ghost last night?” He leaned against the lacquered logs of the cabin’s exterior.

“Yes. This morning, too. I’ve never encountered a spirit this strong, and he’s definitely hostile. He could hurt a lot of people.”

“There’s a big fair this weekend, and hundreds are expected to visit the park. Best if he’s dealt with before then.” He straightened, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m glad you came. So, you want to see the grave?”

“Yes, please.”

His forehead creased. “Why?”

“Access to a subject’s grave is a boon during an exorcism. I won’t need the spirit’s presence to bind him.” She led him off the porch, the creaky boards of the cabin giving way to packed dirt and pine needles that imbued their scent into the air. “You seem nervous.”

He scratched behind his ear with a sheepish expression. “Graves are creepy. Especially haunted ones.”

She laughed. “Well, if it’s any consolation, spirits tend to avoid their own graves. They find it disconcerting.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t blame them. The grave is up by the falls, on the opposite side of where we met yesterday. I meant to pick you up, but I should apologize. My car wouldn’t start this morning.”

His gaze drifted down and to the left as he spoke. Jade paused, recognizing the telltale sign of lying. Why lie about something like that? Maybe it was simple embarrassment? Hard to say.

“I’ll drive us.” She jingled her keys. “How did you get here?”

He shrugged one shoulder and met her gaze—the latter motion a sign of telling the truth. “I walked. No big deal. I walk every day, anyway.”

Maybe he didn’t own a car and refused to admit it. Keeping her curiosity to herself, she unlocked the doors and they got in her car.

“Seatbelt,” she said when Dutch didn’t buckle immediately.

“There’ll be a hike to the gravesite,” Dutch said, fidgeting with the seatbelt for a moment as if he’d forgotten how it worked.

Was he that nervous? Jade could hardly imagine that she’d cause any guy to have the jitters. Must be he really disliked the idea of visiting a grave.

“There’s no road on the other side of the river. We’ll have to park at the bridge and walk from there.”

“No problem. It’s worth it.” Jade pulled out of the campground and made a sharp right onto the dirt road that traversed the sprawling park.

“Why Tinker Bell?” Dutch poked at the doll swinging from her rearview mirror.

“Because Tink is a feisty girl who puts up with a bunch of boys, like me. At least, I like to think of myself as feisty.” She made what she hoped was a mischievous smile, not a silly face. “My mother left when I was young, and I grew up with my father and two brothers. My three cousins Ryan, James, and Richard hang around quite a bit, too. And Uncle Frank.”