“Sometimes it is,” Kaz says. “But shifter culture can be extremely private. Rafe’s family definitely is. So far I’ve scouted out the graveyards closest to their homes and no dice. It’s possible they had him cremated elsewhere. Which still leaves him in danger because the Xers’ spells work on ashes too.”
“Great.” I elongate the ‘a’ as Kaz grabs my hand.
“Ready?”
“Where are we going first?”
“Arrow Funeral Home. It’s the closest crematorium to his home. If his body was taken care of that way, they’ll have a record of it.”
We speed through the air, smeared out thin, blending into the colors of the world until we hit ground back in Blacksburg. Or more accurately, asphalt. Warm lights illuminate the burnt orange brick of the building in front of us. They create a small halo around the roof and cast shadows off the words Arrow Funeral Services on the sign near the entrance.
For the most part, it looks closed down for the night.
Without much of an explanation, Kaz heads toward the front door, pausing to place his hand on the off white wood. When his fingers slide through, he slips inside. Nerves snapping with anticipation, I glance around the empty parking lot, then follow Kaz. He’s paused on the tile floor in the entryway, scanning the walls with narrowed eyes.
“What’s the move, boss-man?”
“We’ll check the records to see if this is the funeral home his parents used. My guess is that the offices are this way.” He attempts to float through the door to our left, but knocks into it the same way a living person would. “Nuts.”
“Iron?”
“Yep.” Kaz points at the detailing. “Didn’t see it before.”
“Maybe we can go around it.” I dip a hand into the wall.
When it works, I give Kaz a thumbs up and he snorts. “Nice work.”
We both slide into a room that is very clearly an office. Unlike Mr. Qureshi’s desk, this one is completely empty aside from the massive computer and a set of fancy pens sticking out of an equally fancy pen holder. A pair of gray-ish tan filing cabinets sit next to it near a much smaller desk. This one is a bit more cluttered, covered with neat stacks of paper, and decorated with a dancing hula girl toy.
Kaz slips around the larger desk and settles on the massive leather chair. “Okay, keep a lookout for anything weird. I’m going in.”
“In?”
He wiggles his brows, then places a hand on the monitor. His figure ripples and streams forward into the computer. The image triggers a memory of watching an ancient movie called Tron with my siblings. Hailey used to have what she called Old Film Night. She and Cody and I would pile up on the ragged blue sofa in our living room with popcorn and off brand M&Ms and watch anything before the early aughties.
I lace my fingers behind my neck and pace in front of the door. It opens before I make it even a few steps. A woman with a shaved head, a nose piercing, and a bright red pencil skirt walks inside. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I cut off a gasp. The thought that she couldn’t possibly see me shatters when her eyes widen and she drops her keys.
Yup, she one hundred percent sees me.
The woman shuffles backward, pawing at the door handle, her mouth agape. “Y-you...you’re...a...a…”
I lift my hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Ghost,” she finishes, her voice thin and quaking.
“That’s right.”
She reaches for her back pocket and pulls out a cell.
“Wait!” It takes all my powers of self-control not to lunge at her. “Please wait.”
Her lips work. The light on her screen goes dark again and she doesn’t hit the side button to wake it back up. Instead, she tries to open the door again, but her fingers slip.
I swallow. “I’m Billie.” It might be dangerous to give her this information, but it might also help calm her down. “What’s your name?”
“Karen. Karen Connors. I-I was supposed to be a witch, but I was suppressed until the Unleashing so I’ve never actually seen a ghost before, and I’m kind of freaking out right now.”
“Totally understandable.” I take a step back, hoping to show I mean no harm.
Karen hits the button on the side of her phone again, punches in the passcode, and hits one of the contacts. “Ghosts are dangerous.”
My skin prickles at the phrase and the faint sound of the cell ringing from the speaker sends panic pulsing through me.
I want to glide across the room and slap that cell out of her hands, but that definitely won’t help in the long run. Against every instinct, I remain rooted in place. “Not all of us. Death just separates us from our bodies. The only reason we’re still stuck here is unfinished business, which I promise won’t hurt anybody.”
A voice answers on the other line.
After a few breaths, Karen hits the red button to end the call and manages to ask in a whisper, “What do you want?”
Hands still up, I glance at the computer. “We’re trying to find someone’s remains. We think this funeral home might have taken care of his body.”
“Why?” Though Karen isn’t trying to leave anymore, she’s now propping herself against the door frame and clutching the cell to her chest.
“To protect him.” My chest clenches.
“From what?”
I chew my lower lip. “That’s a little complicated.”
“Explain then.”
Cracking my knuckles with a thumb, I nod a little. “Okay, okay there are people who would destroy his remains if they could because they believe this frees ghosts who are trapped on this plane. All this does is make us more dangerous. I have to make sure that doesn’t happen to my friend.”
“I’ve heard other
