“Jeez, Glitch-head,” Cameron said. “Could you be any louder?”

Glitch turned to him in frustration. “Did anyone ask you to come?”

“If you’ll remember, moon pie over there insisted.” He gestured toward Brooklyn as we hunkered behind a massive planter.

“Moon pie?” Brooklyn asked in a loud whisper, insulted by the reference.

“And you listen to everything she has to say?”

Cameron shrugged.

“I could be wrong here,” Glitch said, his voice laced with sarcasm, “but I think you can take her.”

“Glitch,” I said as I inched closer, “what the bloody heck are you doing?”

“Yeah,” Brooklyn said. “Can you pick locks or not?”

I looked to the side. “Oh man,” I groaned. “You broke their garden gnome. We are so gonna be busted.”

Glitch released a frustrated sigh. “Weren’t you two supposed to stay hidden with Jared until I opened the door?”

“Well, you were taking so long. We were worried.”

I almost laughed when he lowered his little lock-picking tools—otherwise known as a modified fingernail file and a paper clip—his annoyance with me obvious.

“Do you know where I should be right now?”

Here we go. “At the steak house?” I asked. “Enjoying a homecoming victory steak dinner, compliments of the Wolverine Booster Club?”

“Exactly! And why am I not there?”

Brooklyn raised her hand excitedly. “I know! I know! Because we begged you to use your infamous boy abilities to help us break into Ashlee and Sydnee’s house while they are off enjoying a homecoming victory steak dinner, compliments of the Wolverine Booster Club.”

Glitch turned without comment and continued working on the lock.

“I was right, huh?”

“Super right,” I said. “You get extra-special bonus points.”

“I have an idea.” Everyone looked back at Cameron as he stood with arms crossed in bored contemplation. “Why don’t we just let the reaper open the door. You know, since he’s standing there looking annoyed.”

We glanced up to see that Jared had already found a way into the house. He unlocked the door.

“Thanks,” Glitch said.

“I’ve already unlocked it once. You locked it back.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“So what are we looking for?” A tad creeped out by the whole ghost thing, Brooklyn and I huddled together as we stepped into the massive three-story house.

“A presence,” Jared said.

“I thought we were looking for a ghost.” Glitch scoured the room with eyes wide.

“Same difference.”

“Ghost, presence, apparition,” Cameron added. “But I think this is something more. It’s too strong. It might be a poltergeist.”

“I feel it too,” Jared said, nodding in agreement.

I was still checking out the digs. “Who the heck puts white carpet in a house?”

“And gold molding,” Brooklyn said. “Could this house scream my daddy’s richer than your daddy any gaudier?”

“So what’s the difference?” Glitch asked.

“Well, wood molding,” Brooklyn explained, “is much more subtle and adds a stunning touch to any room.”

Glitch huffed his irritation at her. “I meant the ghost-versus-poltergeist thing.”

“Oh, right,” Brooklyn said.

I stifled a giggle.

“A presence is more like an energy,” Cameron said, “left behind when someone dies. It’s usually the result of a traumatic death.” He took a vase off the mantel to examine it. “But a poltergeist,” he continued, “is, well, a poltergeist. You’ve seen the movie. They’re stronger and can be either really angry or just plain evil. What do you think of this?” He tossed the vase to Glitch, who caught it in unsteady hands then scowled at Cameron before reading the inscription.

He recoiled with a horrified expression and threw it back. “They keep their grandmother on the mantel?” he asked, gagging a little. “Who does that?”

Cameron laughed as he replaced the urn.

“I could live on this sofa.” Brooklyn ran her hand along the buttery soft fabric.

I nodded in agreement before leaving the warm embrace of my best friend to inspect a painting across the great room. It looked like something from the Renaissance.

“Presence!” Glitch pointed to the upstairs landing then tumbled backwards over a coffee table. “Presence!”

“That was fast,” Cameron said.

I looked up to see a darkness gathered near the ceiling, hovering, watching. A different kind of fear than I had ever known before took hold: a chilling, tingly, sweaty kind of fear. It wrapped cold tendrils around my ankles and crept up my spine to the back of my neck. This was way scarier than the movies. I wanted to run more than I’d ever wanted to run in my life. That whole fight-or-flight thing was leaning heavily toward the latter. Then, without warning, it swooped down at us.

More fear shot through me, pumping adrenaline by the gallons as I screamed and dropped onto an ornate rug. The darkness passed over me. I felt its energy reverberate like an electric wind, standing every hair on my body on end.

The presence retreated into the shadows as quickly as it had appeared. I scanned the room wide-eyed as Jared walked—no, strolled—to Glitch and offered him a hand, and I wondered if supreme beings were afraid of anything.




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