Page 46 of Broken Moon

“I’ll need to talk to yourfriend. You know how good Nadia is. She can draw out details and do a sketch ifLucy will describe this screaming girl.”

I nodded, though he couldn’tsee me. “I’ll bring her to the station tomorrow after she gets off work.”

“I’ll see what I can find withyour description.”

“Thanks.” I hesitated. “How’s Bethdoing? We were planning to have lunch soon.”

“She’d like that.” He ended thecall.

I settled Ash in with treat anda toy, made sure his water dispenser was full, and then sent Lucy a text to lether know I was taking off and she could look in on him if she got a chance. Thebakery was just down the block, so checking in on the dog wouldn’t take her tenminutes. I was tempted to take him with me, but after I left Mrs. Simon’shouse, I was going to the woods to look for my blade, and I wasn’t going toexpose Ash to the wolves. Not yet.

After I pulled into PatriciaSimon’s driveway half an hour later, I took a few minutes to fasten on a belt, thenloaded it up with salt, holy water, a lighter, a stick of chalk, and aflashlight, just in case I was stuck in a dark attic or basement. I gentlylifted a spirit snare from its compartment—I was getting low on those and wouldhave to make or order some more soon—and then I chose one of the tinyprotection jars I put together for clients, patted the blade in the sheath atmy side—my old blade, since I hadn’t yet retrieved the demon blade—and thenwalked to Mrs. Simon’s front door. She was already standing there, her facedrawn and her eyes bloodshot, stressed, exhausted, and depressed.

“Mrs. Simon,” I said, reachingout to squeeze her thin upper arm, “I’m going to fix this for you. You can stopworrying now.”

She burst into tears. “I’msorry,” she cried, then wiped her eyes, straightened her shoulders, andwelcomed me into her home.

Her house was in the small,quiet village of Allenburg. When I got there, it was even quieter as mostpeople were already at work and the children were in school. The house was atall well-kept blue two-story, neat and uncluttered, but the second I walkedin, I could feel the spirit haunting the place. It was cold, and the airwavered. The place was filled with…despair.

“Who lives here with you?” Iasked her. “And are they home?”

“My husband, my daughter, andmy grandson live here. My grandson is the only one home. We had a cat, but sheran off the night we moved in and I haven’t been able to find her. I can’tblame her. We should’ve run off, too.”

“Tell me what has beenhappening, Mrs. Simon.”

“Patricia, please.” She alreadyseemed more relaxed, and her eyes had lost the dull sheen of hopelessness. Shebelieved I was going to help her. “David—my husband—doesn’t believe in ghosts.He was so angry when I told him what was going on, and he got angrier when Isaid I was calling you. He forbade it, actually.” She lifted her chin. “But Ihave my own money hidden back, and he’s not going to tell me what to do withit. I know it’s an evil spirit, and I know you can get rid of it.”

She followed me closely, and Ididn’t ask her to go wait in the kitchen or take a ride to leave me in peace soI could find and get rid of the spirit. I always let the homeowners watch, ifthey wanted, because every single time, they could “see” or feel the moment thespirit left their house. And that was good for their peace of mind. It was alsogood for my business.

“Usually,” I said, as Iexplored, “these spirits aren’t “evil.” At least they don’t start out that way.The longer they’re stuck here, the more warped they become. Theywantyou to know they’re here. More than anything else, they want to leave thisworld, but for some reason, they can’t. I help them find a way out.”

Halfway up the steep stairwayto the second floor I felt a chill, looked up, and saw a young boy coming down thestairs.

Behind me, Patricia whispered,“My grandson. His name is Brian.”

I nodded. “Patricia, I want youto go outside and wait for me to finish up in here, okay?” I kept my voicecalm, blank, and quiet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hervoice full of tears. “He made me call you.”

“I understand. Go outside.”

“Don’t hurt Brian, please,don’t hurt that baby.”

“Patricia, get the fuck out ofhere, oryou’re going to get hurt.”

And finally, she fled thehouse, crying and muttering, already halfway to insanity. I wasn’t sure whereher husband and daughter were, but I was betting they were either dead in thebasement or at the very least locked up down there.

There was no lost spirit in herhouse. There was only the demon whose blade I’d stolen, and though he’dpossessed a ten-year-old boy, he was stronger than ever. He was doing theopposite of fading.

“What do you want?” I askedhim.

The boy looked like death. Hisface was so bloodless it was nearly blue, and large, swollen, black pockets satunder his eyes like bruises. I hoped he’d be okay once I got the demon out ofhim.

If.

If I got the demon out of him.

“What do you want?” I askedagain.