The Unlikely Resident of Room 313

Chapter 21

The next morning, I mustered up the courage to return to Luna's Magic Emporium. In the distance, the sound of the marching band filtered from the football field, a crispy, smoky autumn breeze wafting through the redbrick corridors of uptown OU. Last time I was here, I thought there might be a chance I could bury my head in the sand and forget any of it ever happened. It was a cowardly thought, and I felt ashamed for entertaining it. Even if it was for a second.

I was a lot of things. But I'd never run away from it.

"Admiring the view?" Lana asked as she rounded the corner, the sequins on her hat shimmering in the low light. She clutched a small gray carrier between gloved fingers, and a pair of yellow eyes blinked slowly from the darkness. "Winston loves to destroy my displays. I spend more time fixing the damn thing than anything else."

The cat enthusiastically confirmed her words with a meow.

Moving to unlock the door, she asked, "So what brings you hear this morning? Are you ready to talk or do you plan on running away again?"

Embarrassment heated my cheeks and I followed her into the dimly-lit shop, ready for a bolt of lightning to shoot down and put me out of my misery. "I didn't mean to run away like that. I'm sorry."

Lana swung Winston's carrier onto the back table and opened the door with a click. Winston bolted out of his cage and leapt for the window, snagging onto a purple curtain and shimmying into the rafters. "It's okay," she said with a sigh. "It's a lot to handle for a seasoned witch, let alone a green little thing like you." Lana dragged two stools out from under the counter. "Sit. We have a lot to talk about."

I practically jumped into my seat. "I'm all ears."

Lana clasped my hands between her palms. "The Dark Man is not a manifestation of Roy Teller's anger. I thought that was the case. I hope it was, if I'm being honest. That would make things a lot easier. But strange things are happening around here again; I feel it in the air. I think it's his doing."

That wasn't the answer I was hoping for. "What is he?"

I followed her gaze to the darkest corners of the small shop, the gravity of the situation pushing my shoulders forward, my stomach twisting.

"He is an ancient spirit," she said after a long pause. "Something that used to be human that's been corrupted over the centuries but a myriad of forces known and unknown. We call them poltergeists. Apparently, this one has found a liking to you."

A liking for me?

I thought back to every ghostly movie or supernatural novel I consumed over the years. Each consisted of death and terror, blood and guts, and tons supernatural torture. None of which I was even remotely prepared for.

I must have been changing colors because Winston jumps on the counter directly in front of me and meows, pressing his nose into forearm as if to comfort me.

"Is it because I'm psychic?" I asked. I had strange experiences ever since I was little. Back then, I thought it was make-believe. My parents thought there was something wrong with my brain. They still might—if I told them. Like I'd ever do that.

Lana considered my words. "Possibly. It might also have to do with the little bit of witch in you."

My eyes widened. Did I hear her right? "Witch?"

Her lips twitched in a smile. "The ritual book you bought is a novelty item my husband and I came up with to make some extra money around Halloween. When you performed the cleansing ritual in your room, you were actually doing something similar to magic. It was completely incorrect, of course. We're not dumb enough to sell real spells to kids who might actually make things happen. So, that is why you and Roy are in a bit of a pickle. You performed the bastardized version of a cleansing spell and binding ritual."