The Cold Kiss of Death

‘Here, let me.’ Fi

I froze. The magic was doing its usual, urging us to get together like we were the last two fae in the world. And even though I knew it wasn’t going to happen ... a foolish hope still surfaced that this time he might say something, anything other than—

‘Sorry,’ he murmured, carefully removing his hands from mine and letting go of the laptop.

The magic fizzled away into nothing.

‘No probs,’ I said readily, making sure I kept the disappointment out of my voice and carefully placing the laptop on my backpack.

He settled back in his chair and concentrated on his book.

I tried to settle back in mine, and decided that focusing on the ghosts was marginally better than angsting over might-have-beens, so I checked out the spreadsheet for who was next. Posy. Right on time, the hairs on the back of my neck rose and Posy—a dirty bandage hiding most of her face, the hem of her skirt in rags—ambled by clutching a withered bunch of flowers. I marked her details on the pad and tapped them into the laptop, fingers trembling slightly. Something about this ghost job had me spooked—even without the bad pun—and not just because of my phobia. But when I’d mentioned my vague suspicions to Fi

Chewing the end of my pencil, I sca

‘Tell me why we’re here again?’ I asked, more to shut the whispers out than anything else.

Fi

‘I told you, he doesn’t want that, Gen,’ Fi

Happy Head limped past, half his skull missing, a vacant smile on his face, his body transparent as a reflection in a glass window. Suppressing another shudder, I leaned over, tapped the laptop and keyed in his info. The ghosts were all following the same pattern, each one appearing so many minutes after the previous and almost at the same moment in every hour. So far all the ones we’d surveyed appeared to be turning up on cue. Of course, the place was a quiet as the proverbial grave just now.

‘How does he know they’re taking off for wherever anyway? ’ I dug the heels of my boots into the dirt. ‘I mean, all the workers are human, aren’t they? So they can’t see ghosts.’

‘He says the builders have noticed a difference—a change in the atmosphere, fewer of the usual chills that humans get when they’re around ghosts.’

‘Maybe it’s the builders themselves who are causing all the problems.’ I drew a hammer hitting the top of the Scream-face’s head.

Fi

I subsided into silence, frowning at him from under my lashes. Definitely something not right, but what? I looked, but other than the circle—now faintly glimmering with green and gold—and a vague ash-like haze over the pile of old bones near the blocked-off wall, that wasn’t so much magic as maybe the remnants of a ghost, there was nothing. I couldn’t even see Fi

Fi

‘Thanks,’ I said as I took it, careful not to let our fingers touch; the bottle was ice-cold, straight out of his fridge at home. Brownie magic’s a wonderful thing, if you’re able to use it, which unfortunately I’m not. I took a grateful, cooling drink as he flicked his fingers again to callanother bottle for himself.

‘Here comes another one,’ he said, pointing with the bottle. ‘Lamp Lady.’

Goosebumps pricking my skin, I watched from the corner of my eye as she came into view and slunk past, hugging the wall, her shawl pulled tight over her head, the full skirts of her blood-splattered gown dragging a wide swathe in the dusty floor. As she passed each hanging light, it flickered and hissed out, then sparked back to life as soon as she reached the next. It’d been the same routine every time she’d appeared.

I put the water down, and tapped away at the laptop, then backed up her details on the pad, frowning as my doubts about the job started to click together in my mind. I stared at the little figures I’d been drawing. A horned man on a horse—okay, so it looked more like a monkey riding a pot-bellied pig—but I finally realised what my subconscious was trying to tell me, where my uneasewas coming from. It wasn’t so much the job, but Fi

‘Y’know,’ I said thoughtfully once Lamp Lady was out of sight, ‘I think this job is one of those wild goose chase things.’

Fi

‘Well, the ghosts have all been down here for so long, they’re stuck. They’re all following exactly the same pattern, right down to the exact second they appear, one after the other.’ I tapped my pencil. ‘They’re used to the place being creepy, and even bumping into the circle, Scarface still keeps to his routine. So I don’t see how there’s anything that would disturb them.’

‘Gen, we’re being paid to do the job, and at night rates too.’ He said that as if it should have been enough of an answer.

‘Uh-huh. So why doesn’t Developer Guy want anyone here during the day time?’

‘Because he wants it all done on the quiet.’ He turned another page. ‘Doesn’t want any bad publicity.’

‘Bad publicity!’ I snorted. ‘A tale of ghosts disappearing wouldn’t be bad publicity; it would be a whole lot of great free publicity.’

He didn’t answer me, just unscrewed his water bottle and tipped it up. I waited until he’d finished, trying not to stare at the way his throat worked as he swallowed, then said, ‘C’mon, Fi