Keeper(6)

“Of course I do. But I seriously doubt a TV show is gonna help us.”

“You underestimate the sheer awesomeness of the Winchester brothers,” Maggie said with a dreamy smile. “But look, we could try a more classic approach.”

“Such as?”

“What about a spirit board?”

“A Ouija board? We used to play with those at all our old middle school sleepovers. They never worked.”

“That’s because we were too chicken to ask it anything important. Come on, Styles. I know we’re totally outside your comfort zone, but you have to try. Why are you fighting this so much?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a few seconds before answering. “I guess I’m just a little . . .”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m used to relying on books for everything. Concrete facts, hard evidence—things that can’t be disputed. None of this makes any sense, and I don’t do well with . . . with stuff like this.”

“What? You?” Maggie interjected, feigning shock. “I never would’ve guessed that.”

“You know what I mean. I just have a feeling that this, whatever this is, is big. And it makes me really nervous.”

“I know it’s kinda freaky, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad. Maybe something incredible is about to happen. Hell, for all we know, you could be turning into some kind of ghost-

seeing mutant with special powers.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

I cracked a small smile. “Well, when you put it that way . . .”

“I have one more idea,” Maggie said. “And this one doesn’t involve a television show or a board game.”

“I’m all ears.”

“What if you talked to Serena?”

I thought of my uncle’s girlfriend, with her long skirts and tarot cards. “Absolutely not.”

“What? Why?”

“Because she’s completely nuts, that’s why.” I’d known Serena my whole life. Hell, she was practically family, but I’d never been able to buy into all her talk about the worlds outside our own. She marched to her own beat, and I was cool with that, but asking me to learn the rhythm? That’s where I drew the line.

“All I’m saying is it couldn’t hurt to talk to her. Weird is kind of her area of expertise.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Maybe we should just try the library after all.”

Maggie sighed. “Fine. We can go and look in the archives for old newspaper photographs or something that might help us figure out who this woman is and what she wants.”

The whole thing still sounded crazy, but what other choice did I have? I glanced uneasily at the handprint on my arm. My fingers were itching to tug my sleeve over it and pretend it didn’t exist, but a wave of determination washed over me. I ground my teeth and glared at it instead. There had to be an explanation for what had happened to me, and I was going to find it.

“Sounds like a plan.”





CHAPTER THREE


It didn’t take long for the calm I’d felt while talking to Maggie to evaporate. As soon as I left the playground, my mind began to hurl questions at me—questions with no answers. By the time I arrived home, my nerves felt like I had been running over them with a cheese grater.

I pulled myself from the car and turned to see my uncle Gareth sitting on the front porch. He was holding a book in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. Considering the late hour, it could mean only one thing.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned as I stomped up the steps and plopped down in the chair beside him. “Again? She just did one last week.”

Gareth smiled sheepishly but didn’t look up from his book. “She had a feeling. You know the drill.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why can’t you date someone normal?”

He ignored me, but he did reach over to give me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “She brought cookies, if that helps.”

“Snickerdoodles?”

“They are your favorite, aren’t they?”

I nodded and let out a sigh. Serena might be bat-shit crazy, but she was a hell of a baker. “Fine.”

“That’s my girl.” Gareth grinned at me, the glint in his eyes making him look much younger than his forty-two years.

We don’t look much alike. Gareth is tall and brawny with honey-colored hair, tan skin, and dark chocolate-colored eyes. I’m on the short side with long, wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a fair complexion. I look mostly like my mom, but I have my dad’s smile.

Gareth’s and my mannerisms are the same, though, and we have the exact same sense of humor. We can even finish each other’s sentences. Serena jokes that we share a brain. I guess that’s what happens when your whole family consists of a single person. Gareth took me in after my parents died, and it had been just the two of us—and his kooky girlfriend, Serena—ever since. Our relationship had always been more like friends or roommates than uncle and niece, but I liked it that way. Life with Gareth was easy.

I leaned my head against the back of the wicker chair and sighed. Sitting beside Gareth on the porch, listening to the soft slithering sound of his pages turning was peaceful, but my mind still flashed with images of the woman, or ghost, or whatever it was. The handprint on my arm stung under the fabric of my hoodie.