Spirit Storm by E.J. Stevens Read Free Book Online Page B

the shizzy,” I mumbled at my reflection. I mirrored Gizmo’s thumbs up and wandered off in search of food and caffeine.
    Getting dressed should have been the easy part of my day. People wear black to funerals and I had a closet brimming full of black clothing. Easy right? Unfortunately I was also dressing for battle. Going to the funeral meant entering a cemetery where I would likely be bombarded with the smell impressions of its many ghostly residents. I was going to need every protection trick and spirit ward up my sleeve if I hoped to survive the day with my sanity intact. The hard part was that I really needed to literally fit these items up my sleeves. I could get away with a few crosses, but too much occult bling at a public funeral would draw the wrong kind of attention. We needed to be discreet, hence my wardrobe dilemma.
    I set my chain mail for spirits down on the bed with a sigh. There was no way it was fitting under any of my nice blouses. I grabbed a belly chain that I had only been brave enough to wear once and attached a few charms to it, extra crosses, a silver four leaf clover, a Thai Buddha amulet, and a Seal of Solomon protection charm, and slipped it on. I grabbed a non-toxic magic marker and drew a few more crosses and symbols from the library books on my upper arms and stomach where they wouldn’t show once I was fully dressed.
    I pulled a black cami on first and my high necked ruffle blouse over that. I hooked my evil eye pendant around my neck and slipped the pendant under the blouse. I slipped my large ornate cross necklace over my head and let the cross rest on my blouse. It was goth, but not too over the top. I clipped a few tiny bells into my hair, then pulled on a floor length black skirt and laced up my boots. There were a few loose herbs in the toe of each boot, more spirit protection, and they tickled my stocking feet.
    Thunder rattled my window and I decided to bring my waterproof trench coat and an umbrella. I shoved a few more charms into my coat pockets and, with a silent prayer, ran for the stairs. I felt the cold sliver of fear slide down my back. Or was that just one of my charms? Either way I had a bad feeling about this.
    *****
    Emma was waiting for me in the driveway and looked fabulous in her black dress. Emma normally only wore white, cream, or gray so it was a shock to see her alabaster skin and pale blond hair against the contrasting black of her dress.
    “You look amazing,” I said. She also looked older, but I wasn’t going to mention that. I wondered if it was intentional. She was going as Simon’s date after all.
    “Thanks, you too,” she said, getting into the driver’s seat. “Are you jingling?”
    “Um, yeah, that would be me,” I said guiltily. “Is it that noticeable?”
    “Not really,” she answered. “You might just want to refrain from jumping up and down.”
    “Right, because people do that all the time at funerals,” I said sarcastically.
    “Fine, don’t take my advice,” she said primly.
    What was her deal today? “You ready for some detective work?” I asked. “You and Simon can be like Holmes and Watson or Starsky and Hutch.”
    Emma shot me a look that would freeze lava. Well at least I know what she’s mad about. If I hadn’t been so focused on my own dread of today, then I would have realized just how uncomfortable Emma must be pretending to be Simon’s date for the day. She was eighteen and he was old . I wasn’t exactly sure how old, but he was probably in his thirties. You know, ancient.
    “So I was wondering if maybe we should have a change in plan,” I said. “You could give Simon a ride, but then split up when you get to the funeral. You don’t really have to stay together.”
    Emma let out a sigh. “I would, but I have to admit that the boys have a point,” she said. “We shouldn’t go in there on our own. There’s a killer prowling around and I, for one, don’t want to be his next victim. No, we’ll stick to the