Page 69 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

A small, cold certainty slid into place and Augustine went rigid.

She knows him — or of him. And knows enough to be afraid. Enough to tell me to stop. Augustine’s mind was turning, pulling at threads she didn’t yet understand. She knows him . . . and doesn’t want to tell me why.

That, more than anything, made her pulse quicken. Something was wrong here, and she needed to find out what. Not like this, though. Not with Maddy watching her like she might shatter at any moment.

Augustine let out a slow breath, forcing her expression to soften, to ease back into something familiar. “All right,” she said quietly, the lie all too easy on her tongue. “I’ll stop it. Stop him.”

Maddy’s shoulders dropped, not completely — but enough. Relief flickered across her face, cautious and fragile. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. Good.”

Augustine nodded, already turning away, clearing her throat as she moved back towards the counter. “Right,” she said, a touch too brisk. “So. Cat food. Did you really buy twelve tins of salmon mousse?”

“Sixteen,” Maddy corrected automatically. “I told you, they were on offer. So cheap.”

“Right.”

They were talking cat food but underneath, Augustine’s mind was already moving as her fingers tightened slightly around the tin.

I’m not letting this go. I’ll find out the truth for myself.

Chapter Twenty-Four

When Augustine woke, she was under her coat in the corner of The Priestess Reversed, her head cushioned on a pile of healing energy blankets she’d recently ordered from India. For a long moment she was disorientated, blinking in the early morning light.

The shop looked different from this angle. The shadows were less theatrical, the candles burned down to nothing. The usual hum of the space had been replaced by a quiet, almost thoughtful stillness. Dust drifted lazily through the thin bands of sunlight slipping in through the window, and just for a second, Augustine lay there in the early morning sunshine, listening to nothing.

She pushed herself upright slowly, her neck protesting as she rolled her shoulders back. Theo still hadn’t returned. She knew that for a fact, because after Maddy left she’d stayed, hadn’t she? She’d waited. All night.

But he hadn’t come back. Hadn’t appeared or materialized.

A faint crease formed between Augustine’s brows as she stretched out the kinks in her back, because she’d been so sure he would. After everything . . . after the card, their conversation, the way he’d looked at her . . . she’d been certain he’d return. After they’d been able to touch, her hand held warm and tight in his, she’d been certain he’d come back.

But he hadn’t. Has something happened to him? Is something stopping him from coming to me? She didn’t know how any of this worked and her mind was spiralling into deeply unhelpful speculation.

There was nothing else to do now but open the curtains and get ready for the day. She glanced at the floor, at the circle of salt that was still present; she should really sweep that up, too.

Still, even as she began to set up and found her sweeping brush and pan, her mind turned the same question over and over again: why wasn’t he here? She’d been so certain — and so damned hopeful — that he would be.

Maybe Maddy scared him off.

The thought was sudden and intrusive. It was also, she realized, a ridiculous idea, because Maddy was many things, but avenging ghostbuster wasn’t one of them. She carried a canvas backpack, not a proton pack. But then, magic didn’t exactly follow the rules of logic, did it? More than that, Maddy’s reaction yesterday had been sharp and defensive. Almost . . . territorial, in a way Augustine couldn’t quite define. Could that kind of energy do something? Keep him away?

Augustine exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through her hair.

Why was Maddy so negative about him?

It didn’t fit. Not unless she knew something. Something she wasn’t saying. Frustrated, Augustine swept the salt and sage circle away, still mulling over the questions in her mind.

When she was finished, Augustine stretched, her arms reaching overhead until her spine gave a satisfying crack.

“God,” she muttered, wincing slightly, “I need an actual bed in this place . . .”

She froze, and slowly, very slowly, lowered her arms.

She’d recalled Maddy’s words from a few days ago when there’d been mention of a place upstairs. What place upstairs?

Maddy had lied yesterday, Augustine was nearly sure of it. Now she was beginning to think that it hadn’t been for the first time.

The place upstairs. It had seemed like just another one of Maddy’s usual offhand comments, easily lost in the noise of everything else.