White Witch, Black Curse. Kim Harrison

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СКАЧАТЬ why does it keep going off ‘vibrate’? I almost died of embarrassment the night I tagged Trent.” Flipping it open, I managed a courteous, “Hello?”

      Jenks landed on Ford’s shoulder, smiling. “It started playing ‘White Wedding.’”

      Ford laughed, and I pulled the phone from my ear. There was no one there. Clicking through the menu, I put it on “vibrate.” “Leave it alone,” I growled, and it went off again.

      “Jenks!” I exclaimed, and the pixy flew up to the ceiling, grinning from ear to ear.

      “It’s not me!” he chimed out, but he was having too much fun for me to believe him.

      It wasn’t worth trying to catch him, so I dropped the phone in my bag and let it ring. Ford was very still, and a wave of apprehension swept me at the look in his eyes. Scared, almost.

      “Someone else is in this room,” he said softly, and Jenks’s laughter cut off. I watched as Ford pulled out his amulet. It was a swirl of emotions, confusing and chaotic. No wonder he liked to work one on one. “Both of you, go back by the fridge,” he said, and it was as if the warmth left my body. Shit, what in hell is going on?

      “Go,” he said, waving, and I stood up, totally creeped out. Maybe it’s a demon, I thought. Not really here, but here on the other side of the ever-after, looking at us with his second sight. The sun wasn’t down yet, but it was close.

      Jenks silently landed on my shoulder, and we backed up until the amulet shifted to a frustrated black.

      “And he or she is extremely frustrated,” Ford said mildly. “He, I think.”

      I didn’t believe this. How could he be so calm? “You sure it isn’t a pixy?” I almost whined, and when Ford shook his head, I asked, “Is it a demon?”

      Ford’s amulet flashed a confused orange. “Maybe?” Ford offered, and when the amulet turned the purple of anger, he shook his head. “Not a demon. I think you have a ghost.”

      “What?” Jenks yelped, the burst of yellow pixy dust settling onto the floor to slowly fade. “How come we didn’t know before? We’ve been here a year!”

      “We do live next to a graveyard.” I looked over my kitchen, feeling it was alien suddenly. Damn it, I should have gone with my first gut feelings when I saw the tombstones. This wasn’t right, and my knees weren’t feeling all that sturdy. “A ghost?” I stammered. “In my kitchen?” Then my heart did a flip-flop, and my gaze shot to my demon library, down from the belfry. “Is it my dad?” I shouted.

      Ford put a hand to his head. “Back up. Back up!” he cried. “You’re too close.”

      Heart pounding, I looked at the eight feet between us and pressed into the fridge.

      “I think he meant for the ghost to back up,” Jenks said dryly.

      My knees started to shake. “This is freaking me out, Jenks. I don’t like it.”

      “Yeah,” Jenks said. “Like I’m all peach fuzz and nectar here?”

      Ford’s expression eased, and the amulet around his neck went a sorrowful brown tinged with the red of embarrassment. “He’s sorry,” Ford said, gaze unfocused as he concentrated. “He didn’t mean to scare you.” A smile came over him, unusually soft. “He likes you.”

      I blinked, and Jenks started to swear in one-syllable sentences in a way that only a pixy can manage. “Likes me?” I stammered, then got the willies. “Oh God,” I moaned. “I’ve got a peeping Tom of a ghost. Who is it?”

      The amulet went entirely red. Ford looked down at it as if needing confirmation. “I’d say not a peeping Tom. I’m getting that he’s frustrated, benevolent, and he’s starting to feel better now that you know he’s here.” Ford’s eyes slid to my bag. “Ten to one he’s the person who has been changing your ring tones.”

      I fumbled for a chair, yanked it to the fridge, and sat down. “But my phone has been doing this since the fall,” I said, looking at Jenks for confirmation. “Months.” Anger started trickling in. “He’s been here all that time? Spying on me?”

      Again, the amulet went an embarrassed red. “He’s been trying to get your attention,” Ford said gently, as if the ghost needed an advocate.

      I put my elbows on my knees and dropped my head into my hands. Swell.

      Clearly frustrated, Jenks landed on the sill beside his brine shrimp tank. “Who is it?” he demanded. “Ask him his name.”

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