Stacia Kane - Unholy Ghosts

Unholy Ghosts

(The first book in the Downside series)

(2010)

A novel by

Stacia Kane

To Cori. Not just my best friend, but my best reader. Her enthusiasm for this book in its earliest stages and beyond kept me going; her friendship kept me sane.

Chapter One

Had the man in front of her not already been dead, Chess probably would have tried to kill him. Damned ghosts. A year and a half shed gone without having to deal with onethe best Debunking record in the Church.

Now when she needed her bonus more than ever, there he was. Mocking her. Floating a few feet off the parquet floor of the Sanfords comfortable suburban split-level in the heart of Cross Town, with his arms folded and a bored look on his face.

Too good to go where youre supposed to, Mr. Dunlop?

Mr. Dunlops ghost gave her the finger. Asshole. Why couldnt he just accept the inevitable?

Hed been an ass in life, too, according to her records. Hyram Dunlop, formerly of Westside, banker and father of two, all deceased. Mr. Dunlop should have been resting for the last fifty years, not turning up here to rattle pipes and throw china and generally make a nuisance of himself.

Right. She set the dogs skull in the center of the room, checking her compass to make sure she faced east, and lit the black candles on either side of it, her body moving automatically as she arranged her altar the way shed done dozens, if not hundreds, of times before. Next came the tall forked stang in its silver base, garlanded with specially grown blue and black roses. She set the bag of dirt from Mr. Dunlops grave in front of the skull for later use.

Her small cauldron in its holder took a few extra minutes to set up. Mr. Dunlop moved behind her, but she ignored him. Showing fear to the deador any sort of emotion at allwas asking for trouble. She filled the cauldron with water, lit the burner beneath it, and tossed in some wolfsbane.

With a stub of black chalk she marked the front door and started on the windows, stepping deliberately through Dunlops spectral form despite the unpleasant chill. The set of his jaw lost some of its defiance as she pulled out the salt and started sprinkling it. This is probably going to hurt, she said.

Her gaze wandered to the grandfather clock in the corner, just outside the sloppy salt ring. Almost eight oclock. Fuck. She was starting to itch.

Not badly, of course. Nothing she couldnt handle. But it was there, making her mind wander and her toes wiggle in her shoes, when she needed to be sharp.

Shed just begun closing off the hallway when Mr. Dunlop bolted up the stairs.

The symbols on the doors and windowsshed already done the bedroomswould keep him from leaving the actual building, butshit.

Shed forgotten the master bedroom fireplace. The chimney flue.

Pausing only long enough to snatch up the bag of grave dirt, she raced after him. The grave dirt wasnt supposed to come until later, when the psychopomp had already shown up to escort him, but it was the only way she could think of to stop him.

Mr. Dunlops feet were only just visible when she reached the bedroom, hanging in the fireplace. She grabbed a small handful of dirt and flung it at them.

Dunlop fell. His silent lips formed words that were probably not kind. She ignored him, ducking into the fireplace to mark the flue with chalk before he could try again. Theres no escaping. You know you shouldnt be here.

He shrugged.

From her pocket she pulled her Church-issued Ectoplasmarkernobody ever said the Church was clever, just that they knew how to protect humanity from spiritsand uncapped it. Dunlop stared up at her, his face rippling in panic. She leaned toward him and he sank through the floor.

Before he managed to disappear completely she ran back downstairs and grabbed her salt, finishing the hallway while Dunlop floated through the ceilingoutside of the circle.

In the short time theyd been upstairs the atmosphere in the room had changed, her energy mingling with that of the herbs to fill the room with power. Chess glanced at her altar. The dogs skull rattled and clicked like a set of castanets, rising slightly from the floor. The psychopomp was coming.

Dunlop backed away when she started toward him, holding the Ectoplasmarker out in front of her. Shed already memorized his passport symbol. Now she just had to get him back into the circle and get the symbol on him before the dog came.

Only once had she heard of a Debunker who didnt manage it. He got lucky. The dog took the ghost. But that was luck, nothing else. Without the passport, the minute that dog finished materializing could be the last minute of her life.

Dunlop bumped into the wall and glanced back, surprised. Ghosts could choose to touch inanimate objects or slide through themuntil the object was solidified on the metaphysical plane.

I marked them. She used her foot to break the line of salt. You cant get through them. You cant escape. This will be a lot easier if you just relax and let me do my job, you know. Why dont you come here and hold your hand out for me?