The Fourth Power - Michelle M. Pillow Page 0,1

they crossed the street.

“Where are we going?” Heather asked, confused.

Vivien led her to the front of the Warrick Theater, a building Heather had inherited from her grandmother. She stopped at the door and said, “key,” before digging into Heather’s front pocket to retrieve the keyring for herself. She unlocked the theater and stepped aside to let Heather go in first.

The theater was only open on weekends, and so the lights were off, and the concession stand was empty. Except for the ghost of a woman in a 1940s dress standing near the curtain leading to the theater seats, they were alone. Heather ignored the spirit. She had nothing left to give the dead. The one spirit she wanted to see had not come to her.

When the front door closed and they were alone in the dark lobby, Vivien dropped the keys on the floor and wrapped her arms around Heather, pulling her close.

“Did your dumbass actually think I wouldn’t know what you were doing today?” Vivien whispered.

Vivien had been born with psychic gifts. Not many people believed her, but Heather knew it was true. Just as Vivien believed that Heather had inherited the ability to see ghosts from her grandmother, Julia Warrick.

Her friend held her tighter. A tear slipped down Heather’s cheek, and her shoulders gave an involuntary jerk as she tried to hold back a sob.

“You’re not alone,” Vivien said, keeping a firm grip around her. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving you. I won’t let go. Ever.”

Heather’s legs gave out, and she felt herself lowering to the hard lobby floor. Vivien went to the ground with her, not letting go as sorrow racked Heather’s body.

Chapter Two

Old Anderson House, Freewild Cove, North Carolina

Ten Years Later…

“Why won’t you look at me? Like, I know you see me. I hate that. He never looked at me. All these hours spent working out, and he never looked…”

Heather tried to focus on what Martin Edwards was telling her about the property’s old wiring and fire hazards, but it was difficult with an erratic ghost shouting in her ear for attention. The spirit’s words sounded garbled like she was underwater, but even with the distortion, Heather could detect a valley girl inflection in her voice. The ghost’s feathered hair and very distinct style revealed she’d most likely died in the 1980s. Heather couldn’t make out everything the dead woman said, and the spirit’s inclination to turn up the volume didn’t do Heather’s headache any favors.

Usually, if Heather concentrated hard enough, she could block them out, but this woman was persistent. All of the undead Heather had come across lately had been that way. Ever since she found her grandmother’s old ring in a tax receipt box, Heather’s gifts as a medium had gone into overdrive.

“Look! Just look at my perfect ass…”

The only reason she didn’t throw the ring into a firepit was that her two best friends, Lorna and Vivien had also received rings. The three of them were joined by magic. Though she’d known Vivien nearly their entire lives, Lorna was a new friend. The three of them had been brought together for a reason—to help each other heal from past pains.

Lorna was a widow. At the funeral, she’d learned her husband had another wife. The bastard had married Lorna second, and the first wife (being a spiteful bitch) had taken everything she could get her hands on. They’d séanced Glenn back so Lorna could give him a piece of her mind and find closure. She was now dating Heather’s brother, William.

Vivien’s case had been harder. The love of her life had died from cancer when she was in her twenties, and until recently, she’d been carrying a torch for him. Sam would not have wanted Vivien to live without love. Thankfully, with a little nudge from the afterlife, Sam was able to say a proper goodbye and Vivien was able to give love a second chance with her new neighbor, Troy.

Heather wasn’t looking for love. Her ex-husband was a good man. He’d treated her well. She had no relationship hurt to get over. Her pain ran deeper. There was no getting over the loss of a child. And even if there was some way to get over it, Heather didn’t want to.

“He, like, shoved me overboard so he could be with his grody mistress…”

“So? What do you want me to do?” Martin asked, sounding a little exasperated. He was new in town, but she’d already used him on a couple of jobs.