Opposition Read online

  “I don’t think he can hear me,” Cyril said, a little louder this time.

  I pressed myself back against one of the metal tables as Lucas Lewis strolled forward with the spirit box. He held it out, away from his body, and swept it in a wide arc. Behind him, Zack focused on him through the camera.

  None of their equipment worked. Rose had tried out some, and some of it hadn’t even lit up even though a ghost stood right in front of it. But this was ridiculous. None of their equipment even remotely worked.

  “Are there any ghosts here?” Lucas asked loudly, his face set in the most serious expression I’d ever seen. “If there are, can you give me a sign? Can you tell us what you want?”

  “World peace,” Cyril muttered. “Though sometimes I’d settle for a pepperoni pizza.”

  I bit down on my lip to stop from laughing. In front of me, Lucas kept waving around the spirit box. “We want to know why you attacked the housekeeper, Gina. Were you angry with her? Had she offended you in some manner?”

  “What, exactly, do they expect in an answer?” Cyril wanted to know. “Changing the bed sheets hardly seems offensive.”

  Zach moved around to get a different angle. He was close enough to the spirit box that he took a turn, talking so loudly he was practically shouting. “Can we help you ease this anger that you have?”

  Cyril let out a heavy sigh. “Dear Lord. I might turn violent after dealing with these men—why is everything so doom and gloom?”

  “Are you angry?” Zack shouted.

  “Getting there,” Cyril grumbled.

  I reached behind me, grabbing onto the edge of the table and squeezing. It was either that or start laughing hysterically in their faces.

  “We want to help you!” Zach yelled. “We want to stop this cycle of violence!”

  Cyril snorted out a laugh and I nearly lost it.

  Sighing, Zach swung the camera around the room again and landed on me. “Stella, wasn’t it?”

  Double crap. I nodded.

  “Are you ok? You look a little pained there. Are you sensing anything? Is a ghost making you feel sick?”

  I shook my head, too afraid that a hysterical giggle might escape me if I opened my mouth. Then I gave him a thumbs up.

  Satisfied, he panned the room again. “I think the kitchen is clear. Up next, we’ll be moving on to the first-floor hallway.”

  Lucas and Logan made for the door, moving slowly, the way a hunter would on a trail. They kept their equipment up, watching it intently. Behind them, Zach recorded their exploits on camera.

  The door swung shut behind them.

  And I pitched forward, my sides pinched with pent-up laugher. “Oh God!” I laughed, finally able to let it loose. “Oh my God! I’m recording that the second I get home!”

  Behind me, Cyril chuckled. “I do feel rather bad for them. So close, yet so far.”

  “Are you angry?” I repeated, doing my best imitation of his voice. “God, he was the one that sounded like he was about to murder someone.”

  “I suppose that’s the natural consequence when you spend years using dud equipment on ghost hunts.”

  The door swung open again and I drunkenly rose to my feet. “Oh guys, wait until you hear—oh.”

  Seth Adair stood in the doorway, holding it open as he looked past me. His eyes weren’t roaming, weren’t wandering. They took in everything. Especially the things I couldn’t see.

  Cyril.

  And the dead ghost woman.

  Triple crap.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seth’s eyes swung around in a three-point triangle: me, Cyril, and the dead ghost lady. The door slid from his grasp, silently swinging shut behind him.

  His eyes widened. His body braced, as if preparing to run, attack, or defend, I couldn’t tell. But I could see the tension coiled in his small frame. Ready to let loose at the smallest trigger.

  I held up my hands in surrender. “Wait!”

  He did, surprisingly. Complete with rapid-fire blinking as he stared at me.

  I rushed ahead with as quick and precise an explanation as I could, knowing I could lose him at any second. “I know it must look bad, with the dead lady over there, but we found her like this, honestly, and this is my friend Cyril, and yes, he’s a ghost, but a good ghost, like Casper, and oh God, are you too young for Casper?”

  For a second, he didn’t move.

  Then a corner of his lip cracked up in the smallest trace of a smile.

  I let out a breath. “Sorry. Sorry—that was a bit confusing. Let’s start over. My name’s Stella.”

  I only realized what I’d done when he relaxed another fraction and spoke. “I’m Seth Adair.”

  Crap. He’d given me his name. I seriously needed to re-teach myself introductions to avoid this in the future.

  For the time being, I just smiled. “Seth. That’s right. You’re here with your brother Sebastian, right?”

  He nodded once. Then his eyes flicked away from mine. “Why are your hands like that?”

  I looked over at my hands to see I still had them raised in surrender. “Oh.” Then I let them fall. “My bad.”

  Seth looked past me to one of the two ghosts. “And you two…are together?”

  Cyril let out a strangled-sounding cough.

  “Yes, we’re together.”

  His eyes moved to the third point. To a spot off to my side, just over the far kitchen table. “And you found her like this?”

  “Yes.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “How strange. You aren’t lying.”

  “Of course, we aren’t…” His words clicked something, and I studied him. Then I slowly squatted down so that I was closer to his level. “Can you tell when we are?”

  He didn’t answer. Though that was answer enough.

  He could discern the truth. Could pick it out the way I could invoke names or Bronte could bear witness to someone’s past.

  That meant he was a psychic.

  Like me.

  I knew staring was rude, but I couldn’t help myself. Aside from Noah, this was the first other psychic I’d met. I knew some had to be out there—after all, the odds that Noah, Bronte, and myself were the only three seemed outrageous. But having another psychic standing in front of me? When, up until that point, they’d been these myth-like beings that I knew existed but never thought I’d meet?

  Why, it was like meeting a ghost in your apartment.

  “Sorry. It’s just…I’m a psychic too.”

  “Stella,” Cyril said, a warning edge in his tone.

  Yes, it was probably stupid: this was the younger brother of Sebastian I’m-better-than-you Adair, after all. But I wanted him to trust me. And a part wanted him to like me too. Because I’d never met another psychic before, and I wanted it to end well.

  “I know.”

  I blinked in surprise. “You know?”

  He nodded. “Sebastian suspected that one or more of you were. Probably at least two, he said. Most likely you and the man you’re with.”

  “Me and the man?”

  “The three of you girls had been friends since high school. Probably before, but you hadn’t really used social media before then. The odds that more than one of you had manifested psychic abilities seemed unlikely. So, one of you and then the man, who’d probably manifested his powers and found you three by accident. At least, that’s what Sebastian thinks. He thinks it’s you. A gut feeling, he said.”

  “A gut feeling, he said?”

  Cyril let out a heavy sigh. “Stella, please stop repeating everything the child says.”

  I straightened, jerking myself back up to my feet.

  Seth nodded eagerly, his eyes swinging up to, I assumed, Cyril. “But he didn’t say anything about Apparition Investigations working with other ghosts. Are you with the one I saw earlier tonight too? Or is that one part of the hotel?”

  “Oliver,” I said, “is with us.”

  He was starting to seem like a child now, the way his en
thusiasm continued to build. It sang through his limbs, until he was bouncing happily on the balls of his feet. “That is so cool! You two seem much more coherent than the other ghosts I’ve seen.”

  How the hell did this child know what the word coherent meant?

  “I can see how working with ghosts would be beneficial. Oliver, you said? He managed to slip right into my bedroom. Perfect for reconnaissance and gathering intel.”

  “Well, we can’t let the child meet Oliver now,” Cyril mumbled. “Not with him singing Oliver’s praises.”

  Seth laughed. “You’re funny.”

  “Seth, why are you down here by yourself?”

  “Oh, I’m not. Sebastian is in the restaurant.”

  "What?" Cyril and I yelled at the same time.

  “He’s going to think this is so cool!” he said, turning as if to go through the kitchen door.

  “Wait!” I shouted, reaching, but pulling short. I couldn’t physically manhandle a child. And I couldn’t flood my command with power—not again. Even though I really, really wanted to, I couldn’t cross that line. I’d just freaking laid it, for crying out loud.

  Turned out, I wouldn’t have had much of an opportunity to anyway.

  For the third time, the door swung open without a member of my team behind it.

  Sebastian Adair stood in the doorway, his eyes taking in our steadily growing little scene.

  He blinked. Then tensed.

  And I had just enough time to recognize the family resemblance in their actions before things in the kitchen began to rattle.

  “Cyril, stop!” I shouted, turning to where I thought Cyril might be.

  “It’s not me!” he shouted back, followed by a loud oomph.

  The rattling intensified, growing stronger. Anything left out and loose shook. Metal utensils clanged against the metal table. Massive dishwasher bins made hollow thumping noises. The doors to the refrigerator swung open and shut, slamming loudly each time. The sink faucets turned on and off.

  “Bastian, stop it!” Seth shouted.I swung around to see Seth grabbing Sebastian’s outstretched hand. Trying to yank it down. Pull it from where it was pointed.

  Toward me.

  And suddenly I was moving.

  My body was yanked forward.

  And I slammed into Sebastian.

  He was braced for it, catching me easily. But I felt like I’d just slammed into a brick wall.

  His pivoted, moving me around behind him.

  Then the rattling in the room suddenly doubled.

  It became louder, with the heavier objects shuddering. A power vac in the corner started bouncing like it was a piece of un-popped popcorn. A dolly shot forward from its spot up against the far wall and fell, clanking, onto the ground. Then it began to rattle, the wheels banging it up against the refrigerator door. And the air began to stir.

  Sebastian still had one arm wrapped around me, keeping me pinned behind him.

  Seth stood in front of him, arms outstretched in placation, and Sebastian was trying to yank him back too with his other arm.

  Cold gripped me from behind and I was flying back again.

  Sebastian swung around.

  Human hands caught me, and I looked up to see Noah. He gave me a brief look over and then stepped around me to square up against at Sebastian.

  Rose and Bronte ran into the room, skirting around tables and chairs as they started rattling too.

  The cold lingered on my arms. “Stella? Are you ok?” Oliver asked.

  Rose jumped between Noah and Sebastian, arms outstretched. Her eyes wildly took in the rattling furniture, the loud banging. “Let’s everyone calm down.”

  Bronte was at my side. She shivered through Oliver and I felt the cold leave me as he drifted away. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” I said, more annoyed at having been flung around twice than anything. I pulled away from her, coming to stand next to Rose. “Sebastian, these ghosts are with us. We’re a team here.”

  Seth threw his arms around his brother’s middle, clinging to it. “It’s true! She’s telling the truth!”

  Sebastian stared at me. He cast a look over his shoulder, taking in the rattling in the kitchen. Then he looked back out at the restaurant.

  His posture straightened. But it didn’t relax. He looked tenser than when he’d opened the door to see me, his brother, Cyril, and a dead ghost all chilling in the kitchen.

  His eyes found mine again. “Explain,” he said, and the rattling began to die down.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “They work with ghosts!” Seth beamed excitedly. He took another step into our hotel room and Sebastian’s hand shot out, pulling him back. They were inside the room, technically, but Sebastian was so close to the door he was practically leaning on it.

  I sat on the bed with Bronte. Noah stood back from everything, at the farthest corner in the room from the door, with his arms crossed over his chest. Rose stood out front, formidable despite wearing Superman pajamas.

  We’d told him everything. Ok, not everything. We told him about meeting Cyril and Oliver and about working together against malicious ghosts. How the six of us made a team. Granted, we skimmed over our psychic abilities, but he pretty much got everything else.

  All, in an effort, to stir some sort of emotional response from him. I could tell that was Rose’s play as she talked—the words she used and the emotions she tried to evoke. She wanted him to see us as a group of friends, harmless, just trying to help.

  “Yes, I heard,” Sebastian said blankly.

  “So, we’d appreciate it if you could leave off Cyril and Oliver,” Rose said. She’d even assumed a humble pose, hands clasped together, all doe eyes and trembling lips.

  Though, shockingly, Sebastian wasn’t moved by it. And if I hadn’t seen the rattling items in the kitchen and restaurant, I might have thought indomitability was his psychic gift. Because there wasn’t a chance someone could stand against Rose’s damsel-in-distress-tactic without supernatural help.

  Sebastian looked down at his brother.

  Seth nodded excitedly. “They aren’t lying—about any of it.”

  Sebastian sighed and his gaze swung back up to Rose. Then it slid past her and found me.

  The glass of water on Rose’s bedside table began to rattle.

  Sebastian turned his attention toward the glass. And then to Cyril and Oliver hovering just over Noah’s shoulder, figurines in hand to mark their position.

  I wasn’t sure what to be most surprised about: Sebastian standing firm against Rose’s pleading or how our resident ghosts seemed to be on Noah’s side for a change. But they stood with him, a group of feral cats just waiting to be let loose. Not that I could see it, but Bronte had been quite poetic in her description of the boys’ anger.

  I sighed and that brought Sebastian’s gaze right back to me.

  And then the pen beside the glass of water joined the rattling.

  Bronte pulled away from me and pressed her hands down on both, stopping the movement. “Cyril, really, you could lose the blood-thirsty expression. It’s not selling Rose’s story.”

  “Interesting,” Sebastian murmured.

  “Will you leave them alone?” Rose pressed. “Please?”

  He took another moment before answering. And even then, it wasn’t really an answer. “I need to speak with my brother about this.”

  Seth beamed proudly.

  “We can discuss this in the morning. Or rather, after daybreak. Goodnight.”

  With that, he left.

  Rose pinched the bridge of her nose, shucking off her submissive guise as if taking off a coat. “That could have gone better.”

  “Goodnight?” I hissed, jumping to my feet. I stormed to the door, throttling the handle. “Goodnight?”

  “Stella—” Cyril said.

  “Wait here,” I snapped, yanking the door open. “I mean it.”

  Then I was out in the hallway, storming after Sebastian and Seth’s retreating figures.


  Seth heard me first, spinning around and brightening when he saw me. Then he caught sight of my furious expression.

  Almost lazily, Sebastian looked over his shoulder and saw me marching toward them. He looked down at Seth. “Go to your room.”