Page 10 of Mack's Horribly Hellacious Ghost Town
“Ma moitié?”
Now, I knew this tone. Mack wanted to ask for something but wasn’t sure how it’d be received. He still had hang-ups about asking me for things, but he’d gotten leagues better in the past few months. I didn’t like his hesitancy but wanted to encourage his trust. “Yeah, honey?”
“Us needing to call in Beau makes me realize, I’d have been really lost without him as my mentor. I’m a pro, but even a pro needs a master to back him up sometimes. I also want to be that for someone—a master, passing down what I know.”
His desire came as a complete surprise to me, but it was lovely to hear the wistfulness in his voice. He’d clearly thought about the idea and yearned for the possibility.
“And you’ve seen Jon with his apprentice,” I said.
“That plays in, too. He’s so happy to teach Abby, and you can see she’s thrilled to have him. I’m not trying to push for anything right this second, but are you open to sharing our lives with an apprentice?”
“Absolutely.”
He blinked at the immediacy of my response. “Wow. You didn’t even think on it.”
“I love kids,” I reminded him. “It’s part of why I became a cop, to protect kids. So me taking on a young Medium who needs guidance and protection? As natural as breathing to me. I think we best honor the rising generation by giving them every tool we can pass along.”
The car was dim, I could barely see his face, but nothing could hide the way he lit up, smile stretching from ear to ear. I couldn’t have made him happier if I’d offered him a diamond mine.
“Then, after this case is done, can I tell Sylvia I’d like to become a mentor?”
“Hell, you can tell her now, far as I’m concerned. Might be saner to wait until after, though.”
Mack leaned over the center console to kiss my cheek. “Mwen renmen’w, ma moitié.”
I chuckled. “Love you, too.”
Without asking, I knew Mack wanted to help a kid avoid the childhood he’d had. He still had nightmares of being chased by ghosts. Well, memories turned nightmares, I should say, as he’d spent a good portion of his childhood running from ghosts and being hurt by them. Those scars ran deep and were a powerful motivation. If mentoring a young Medium helped heal something in him, I was all for it. I’d support him every stepof the way. Hopefully it wouldn’t only help a young Medium—hopefully it would help him put his own internal ghosts to rest too.
We finally got to the hotel, checked in, and I took a shower to get off the plane cooties. Mack joined me briefly, but we were both too tired to really want to do anything. Our hotel was okay, although the double beds looked small and the rooms had barely any space. The bathroom was so tiny, the shower stall walls and my elbows were going to be very well acquainted by the time we left. I’d stayed in worse places, and we could manage for a month or so. I just wasn’t looking forward to it.
I collapsed into bed pretty fast, as did Mack, and we slept right through to the alarm. Feeling a little groggy because of the time difference, I still got up, knowing I’d have to adjust sooner rather than later. It took us a few minutes to get moving, the motivation of coffee the only thing getting me downstairs. Mack muttered something about fruit and cereal.
The hotel wasnotlarge or a chain hotel by any means. Only two stories, made of white adobe, it looked more like an older home turned into a hotel. It was cool, though, and all I really cared about was having enough room for my team. Still, it did mean we’d have to find a gym somewhere, as this place sure didn’t have one.
Clifton was very much a one-horse town, with one main road and a few off-shooting smaller roads for houses. A set of train tracks ran the length of the road directly in front of the hotel. On top of that, “breakfast on the house” actually meant the restaurant three doors down had a running tab with the hotel, and we ate there for “free.”
Small towns. Gotta love ’em.
Mack and I chose to head on over to the restaurant—I desperately needed coffee—but halfway there, I realized I’d forgotten my phone. I doubled back for it while he went ahead.Coming back out of the hotel, I texted Lachlan, not even sure if he was awake yet. Then I texted the trio, wondering the same thing. No answer from anyone, so likely they were still in the wake-up process. Then I put my phone away, focusing more on the sidewalk.
Close to the restaurant, between a house and a car parked on the street, was a young teenager. Her body language was a little off, a little different. Her feet were turned one way, like she wanted to run, but her torso was pointed the other. She was almost hunched in, too, despite her standing up—a guarded stance. But still, I’d seen this exact scene a hundred times with Mack. It was the way she was oriented, facing something I couldn’t see. The way she spoke to thin air with the complete confidence that something was there to hear and respond. It was like watching Mack’s female double, the body language was so dead-on.
But there was a difference. Where Mack stood confidently, she edged away with wariness. She was afraid, trying to hide it, and looking for an escape route.
And she was alone.
I moved before I really thought about it, crossing to her at a quick jog that ate up real estate. I put my hand in my left pocket, grabbing the Ziploc of salt I kept on me, then opened it quickly with a jerk. I got a handful out, holding it in my palm, before stuffing the bag back into my pocket. Had a feeling I’d need a free hand here shortly.
The girl took notice of me only when I was almost on top of her, eyes wide with surprise. I kept her there with a hand on her shoulder even as I took a handful of salt and threw it in an arc in front of her. “Off with you.”
From the startled way she stared, my salt must have hit. “He’s gone!” She whipped her head around to look up at me with astonishment. She was a pretty thing, with a classic sort of look.Long black hair falling straight down her back, a high brow, grey eyes shining with excitement. Barely hit my collarbone, so she was tall for a girl, but short compared to me. Then again, who wasn’t? “Can you see him too?”
“Couldn’t see jack,” I admitted to her cheerfully. “I never can.”
Her face fell instantly, then cautiously lifted again, curious now. “But you threw salt…?”
“I’m a Medium’s anchor,” I explained patiently. “So I can’t see ghosts, but I can sure recognize when one’s nearby by how the Mediums around me react. In fact…” I turned my head, spotted my fiancé coming out the front door of the restaurant, and called out, “Mack!”
