“You really think this is actually Bloody Ma—” I am startled when my words are cut short by Juniper jumping from her chair, and in a flash she’s flung her little body so that she’s directly in front of me.
“Shhhhhhhh,” Juniper barks out, face scrunched in aggression. “Do not invoke that name here.”
I stare at her helplessly and my continued silence seems to reassure her enough to sit back down. She settles back and her face returns to placidity. “Yes, Kat, the legend was born here and she is the origin.”
“What does she want from me?” I ask trepidatiously.
“I do not know, Kat.”
“How are you able to sense her here?” Kayla, likely seeking normalcy, leans forward and pours steaming coffee for all three of us, meticulously filling each so they are of equal volume and there is room for cream.
“Juni makes a living as a clairvoyant,” Erik says, his masculine voice echoing through the den as he reappears; eyes red, but now calm.
I notice that his phrasing doesn’t lend itself to confirming special abilities, as though it’s just a job, and one that doesn’t define a person, like someone being a waitress or meter maid just for a time. I look at Juniper as I lean forward and clutch my coffee in hand, snatching it back to my place on the sofa, unadorned and bitter. Juniper appears completely resigned and unbothered by Erik’s belief that she is merely delusional.
“It’s a good living and she is highly sought after,” he says, softening as he crosses the room and pats her gently on the shoulder.
“I am highly sensitive to the supernatural,” she explains. “It began at a young age and it’s why she has used me. I didn’t recognize it as an ability as a teenager, but losing my sight heightened everything else. I hear them, I see them in my mind and I feel their energy.”
“Them?” I say, transfixed by the tendrils of shade that seem to caress her face.
“The dead.” As Juniper speaks I can see the hair rise on her arms. “My mother is here. She is sorry for how she treated you, and my father wanders aimlessly. He does not realize he has passed on. He’s a stain of energy that escapes from the veil of death occasionally.”
Erik stiffens, but to his credit does not interrupt again. My breathing is shallow at her words, and while what she says should be comforting, I am frightened. I must now confront the possibility that my carefully built construct of what happened may not actually apply. I’d worked so hard to make the inexplicable just a drug induced misadventure.
“You now know this wasn’t your fault, Kat,” Juniper says therapeutically, as though she can hear my internal struggle. “You can let go of the guilt and move forward to help me stop what was started—not by us—but by her long before we were born.”
“But we let her out?” Kayla clarifies, holding her coffee but not sipping from it. It is just a vessel to have something small to do and control.
“She laid in wait for her opportunity, crafting our friendships in any way she could until fate finally went her way, but she was and is still limited. She hasn’t gotten what she wants yet,” Juniper says, lifting one finger into the air. “May we begin?”
“I have to think about this,” I blurt out, looking at Kayla who is nodding in agreement. “I can’t process all this right now.”
“I understand,” Juniper sighs, and I see her struggling to employ patience as she addresses us. “But please realize that she knows our plan and while she is noncorporeal currently, she can influence some people and things and I am not privy to the rate she is gathering strength. It’s risky to wait.”
“I’m sorry,” Kayla’s voice is kind but firm. “I agree. I can’t just switch from forgetting that night to recreating it right now. Especially now that some multi-generational, superpowered ghoul has been introduced. This is...a lot.”
“Please don’t just write off what I’m saying,” Juniper pleads, her temperance wavering. “Just think about it and don’t leave to try and combat it, because it simply won’t work.”
“She will follow us?” My voice is a hoarse whisper.
“Perhaps,” is all Juniper says in answer. “Please just think about it.”
We all begin to try and talk about other subjects, but the mood has saturated the conversation, making all attempts to deviate from it glaringly obvious. It is also very clear that Juniper does not generally have idle conversations in her daily life and is ill-equipped to do so now.
Kayla and I make hasty excuses to leave that are nothing but a social illusion, and after hugging Juniper we trail out with Erik following us. Once at the car I stop and turn around to meet his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, ladies,” he says quickly, his face etched with embarrassment. “I truly didn’t think she’d jump right in with that lunacy.”
“Does it sound crazy? Yes.” Kayla says, looking over his shoulder at the house.
“Is it crazy? I don’t actually know.”
“How can you think of it as anything else?” he questions, eyes wide, looking from Kayla’s face to mine in disbelief.
“I saw the same thing she did, Erik,” I admit, clutching my purse against my thighs. “I’ve never breathed a word of it to anyone, and I’ve tried hard to forget it, but it isn’t the sort of thing that you can banish from your mind.”
“You saw something in the mirror that night?” he clarifies, as Kayla peers over at me, interested.
“Yes, and it was exactly what she described. A woman-shaped thing with a mass of hair and angry eyes. She leaned out and started clawing with these horrifying long, jagged nails.” I shiver recalling it and shake my head at the visceral reaction it summons
