Page 17 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
"When did you get a second one?" she asked sweetly.
I flipped her off, which only made her grin wider.
We filed into the conference room, with Poppy taking charge of getting everyone settled. River stayed close to my side, her scent a constant reminder of why I'd called in reinforcements. Once everyone had found their places around the table, I cleared my throat.
I turned my attention to the three witches. "So, you're like a little coven, right?"
All three women grimaced simultaneously.
"Think of it more as three very different cats in a feral colony," Hannah said dryly.
The room erupted in snorts and laughter. Even River cracked a smile, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.
"Here's the situation." I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. "River hired us for protection after a series of accidents during her performances. We initially thought it might be a stalker, but tonight we both saw something in the bathroom at One Hop Stop." I glanced at River. "A shadow figure that looked like her former bandmate, Julian Rathaway."
"Who's been dead for a year," River added quietly.
The easy atmosphere evaporated. River's fingers curled into fists on her lap as five pairs of eyes fixed on her.
Miranda straightened in her chair. "You're saying she's being haunted?"
"That's our working theory," I confirmed. I went over the rest of the details and steps taken from my end. Which was not much, admittedly. Plugging in a few bits and bobs didn't do shit against the tailor-made horror movie of that bathroom reveal.
River laid out her side of things as coldly and clinically as when I first heard the story. She kept her voice steady, but her fingers found their way to her lap, drumming and twisting against her thigh. I resisted the urge to reach for her hand.
She wrapped up her story, her voice trailing off like the last notes of a song nobody wanted to hear. I watched the witches' reactions—the slight narrowing of Miranda's eyes, Hannah's analytical head tilt, the frown tugging at the corners of Poppy's mouth. The silence stretched uncomfortably, filled with unspoken questions. Even Rava's tail had gone still, a sure sign she'd caught the scent of something important being left unsaid.
Poppy said gently, "River, they can't help if they don't know everything."
"It's nothing." River shook her head. "Just... stupid guilt."
"About what?" Miranda leaned forward, her expression softening.
River remained silent, jaw clenched.
"River." Poppy's voice held a note of steel I hadn't expected from the baker. "Tell them. All of it."
River exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. Julian and I had a fight the night he died. A big one. He'd been spiraling for months, missing rehearsals, showing up high to gigs. It was affecting his playing, his writing... everything. We were supposed to be the opening act for a European tour, our biggest break yet."
She paused, swallowing hard. "I told him he needed to go to rehab, or I was pulling the plug on the tour. He accused me of trying to control him and said I was jealous of his talent. Then he..." Her voice cracked. "He threatened to tell everyone I'd been stealing his songs. Taking credit for his work."
"Was there any truth to that?" Hannah asked.
"No!" River's head snapped up, eyes flashing. "We wrote together. Always. I have notebooks filled with both our scribbles. I never thought he'd stoop to such an easily disprovable lie."
I fought down a growl. Dead or not, I already hated this Julian.
She took a shaky breath. "So, I left. Told him to call me when he was sober and ready to be professional again. He was dead by morning."
The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of her confession. The pain in her voice made my chest ache. I wanted to go to her, to hold her until she stopped hurting. To assure her that she had done nothing wrong, that she had no fault in this, that she didn't deserve the harassment of an asshole in life or death.
But I couldn't. Not now, with everyone watching. Later, I told myself. After we figured this out and dealt with whatever was targeting her.
"The question is, what kind of entity are we dealing with? A true ghost? A poltergeist?" Hannah tapped her fingers against the table, thinking. "What about a manifestation?"
"A manifestation?" River repeated in disbelief. "You thinkI'mcausing this? That it's all in my head?"
I could see the hurt in her eyes, the fear of not being believed yet again. I opened my mouth to defend her, but Miranda beat me to it.
