Page 13 of Shadows of Nightshade
Bryce.
A dark cloud fell over my anxious thoughts. Bryce Dubois was Professor Hamway’s graduate teacher and—seeing as she was out of town—her temporary replacement.
I hated his heavy looks and the general animosity between us. Yet it was true. I was at her house, and he was her assistant. Should I have mentioned it to him?
Nah.
“I didn’t want to,” I answered, squirming. Hopefully, Damen wouldn’t ask me to clarify. There was really no need to get into details about my relationship with Bryce. “I thought it was better to come to you instead.”
Why would I go to Bryce anyway? It wasn’t like he’d have any clue how to handle a ghost. Besides, “Finn mentioned that this was your thing.”
“Really?” Damen’s lips pursed in confusion. “Finn sent you? But you said—”
“No,” I responded, cutting him off. “Finn didn’t. In fact…” Did I have to admit it? I looked away from their imploring gazes.
Why did they care so much about Finn? Or Bryce. Couldn’t we just stay on topic?
“Yesterday, I mentioned coming to you for help, and he really didn’t want me to,” I admitted.
“Why?” Miles interjected. He reached for me and briefly squeezed my knee. His calming touch almost distracted me fromhis next statement. “Was he having issues solving the problem on his own?”
What a strange question.
“Not exactly.” It didn’t matter. “But I wasn’t sure what to do. It’s getting worse every day, and I have a really bad feeling.” I set my cup on the table and pressed my hands against my thighs. Someone was finally listening. “I wanted to see if you had any ideas.”
Julian reached for my hand. “There’s no reason to be scared,” he said. “You can relax now. There’s no spirit here for you to worry about.”
I wrinkled my nose. What kind of ghost hunter was he?
“Are you sure?” I muttered under my breath, recalling the familiar sensation just outside. It hadn’t been evil, but there was no way that this property was haunt-free.
Julian’s hand jerked. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind.” I shrugged. If they were good at their jobs, they’d be able to figure this out for themselves. If not, then it wasn’t my problem.
Then again, what iftheyneeded help? Perhaps I could mail an anonymous letter.
“Should we get involved?” Miles glanced at Damen and shuddered. “I mean, it’s a ghost.”
“Maybe.” Damen’s face was solemn. “What I’m more concerned about is that this is the first time I’m hearing about this.”
I looked between them. No questions. No laughing.
“Has it done anything to you directly?” Damen asked.
Did they believe me? Hope gave me the courage to continue.
“A bit,” I continued, empowered. “I wake up in the middle of the night, and it feels like someone is touching me. Then, sometimes, small objects will be moved after I leave the room. But itseems to get worse every day.” I cradled my sore jaw with my left hand.
Julian’s attention moved toward my face, and before I could ask what he was doing, he pulled my hand back and touched my chin.
“Is that how you got this bruise?” he asked.
My skin burned—I hadn’t meant to draw their focus to it. “I thought that I’d covered it…”
“That’s not what I asked.” He pressed gently over the area, and I flinched—both in response to the pressure and his shocking nearness.
The dulling spell that’d come over me since I’d arrived was beginning to fade.
