Page 9 of Cold Sacrifice

I nodded, though Joe would have no idea if Richard were looking at Max or not. “Max is definitely off limits.”

Mollified, Joe settled back into his seat and relaxed.

When we arrived at Vanessa Greenfield’s apartment complex, I stood in the parking lot for a few moments, taking in the feel of the place. As I scanned the mostly full lot, I spotted Vanessa a few rows away, standing beside her car.

She gave me a wave and started toward me, her hair tangled and her makeup smeared. “Hi,” she said. Then she laughed. “I’m so tired.”

“Let’s get your house cleaned,” I said gently, “so you can get some rest.”

Joe followed behind us, likely watching for human threats. The place was quiet, and the parking lot pole lights cast only a dim glow over the area. It might not have felt especially dangerous, but when cold chills raced over my skin, I knew there was definitely something unsafe lurking in the shadows.

I hesitated before going inside and swept the lot with a narrow-eyed stare, probing the shadows for any small movement.

I saw nothing.

“Kait?” Joe asked.

I shook my head. “Not sure, Joe. I feel something, though.”

“I do, too,” he said. “I just thought it was Vanessa’s ghost.”

“Maybe it is,” I told him.

Vanessa had stood aside once she’d opened her door, then darted her stare around the parking lot as she pushed back her hair with a trembling hand. “I saw something while I was waiting for you,” she told me.

I needed to get her inside, because whatever I was feeling in the lot was more dangerous than most ghosts would even think about being.

“It’s about time for an enemy to fight,” Joe said, and despite the fact that he attempted to sound grim, there was hope in his voice.

I snorted. “You sound like Remy.” Then I took Vanessa’s arm. “Let’s take care of your ghost problem.”

Her brows knit as she let me lead her inside. “I told you I saw something in the parking lot,” she said. “A couple of hours ago, I was falling asleep, but I saw movement outside my car. It looked wrong. I mean, it didn’t look like a person, exactly, but it was…person-shaped. Know what I mean?”

Unfortunately, I did. “Yeah,” I said. I wouldn’t tell her that she’d likely seen a supernatural monster, which was what we were all feeling. Even though he’d likely been gone for a while, his aura lingered. His badness lingered. “What else did you see?”

She shrugged and put her keys down on the coffee table. “Nothing, really. I only caught a glimpse of him as he was moving away. I lost sight of him as he went behind that huge blue truck across the lot.”

“Why did you say it looked wrong?” I asked her.

“It was the shape of him. The way he seemed hunched as he moved. But more than that, it was the way he moved. Jerky, like. Just…weird. Maybe I was only seeing things. I was half asleep and I’ve been exhausted for a month.”

Usually when I went into a client’s home, the ghost wasn’t hard to find. They had no reason to hide, because they had no idea that I was coming for them. But Vanessa’s ghost wasn’t there.

“Anybody want something to drink?” she asked. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks,” I told her. “You do whatever you need to do. I’m going to find the spirit.”

“I’ll just get a water,” she said, and left the room.

Vanessa’s apartment suited her. Darker paint, darker curtains, purple and black cushions on the small couch. Narrow bookcases stood against the wall between the dining area and the living room area, stuffed full of horror books held up by figurines of vampires and werewolves.

There was a vintage velvet chair beside the couch, framed prints of ravens and moons, and three healthy house plants.

The apartment wasn’t big. One bed, one bath, a small kitchen, and the living room/dining room combo.

But somewhere inside that small space was a bothersome ghost.

I found him in Vanessa’s bedroom. He was male, mid-forties, light brown hair. He stood on the bed, staring at the framed painting on the wall above the headboard.