Page 23 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)

“Really? Not even a little?” Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and she looked away. We hadn’t gone deep with the personal stuff yet, and this conversation was quickly veering into uncharted territory.

I didn’t want her feeling awkward, so I cracked a smile to lighten the mood.

“I mean… might be fun,” I smirked, glancing at Derek—still nose-deep in his gear. “Who knew I didn’t need a love spell to play hide the pickle?” I whispered.

Katie giggled. “Wait—you really do that?” Her eyes went wide, hungry for details.

I nodded, a little self-conscious. “Yeah—but I swore no more of that with the move. If it happens, it happens naturally now. Time to ditch old habits.”

Katie tilted her head. “But why? Frivolous sex sounds amazing.” She snapped the lid back on the tin. “No emotions. No small talk. Think of the time you save.”

“Yeah, unless you actually want more. And then there’s the side effect.”

“Uh-oh. Side effects? That doesn’t sound good.”

“Obsession. Guaranteed.” I stood and wiped my hands on my shirt. “Like… abandon-their-life, lose-their-shirt, show-up-with-rings obsessed.”

Our conversation wasn’t just about ghosts or love spells anymore. It was about unspoken desires—the kind you don’t even admit to your closest friends.

Katie didn’t even blink—just spun on her heel and marched into the hall, Derek trailing behind like a ghost-hunting bloodhound. “I’ve brewed a potion,” she said, practically glowing. “It’ll let me shift into your uncle’s plane—still human, still alive, but able to interact with him… physically.”

“You’re planning to seduce my uncle’s ghost?” I deadpanned.

Katie just grinned and wiggled a tiny vial of silvery liquid in my face like it was glitter lube for the dead.

Derek paused mid-scan and glanced my way, lifting one headphone. “Think about it, Maggie, if she can sweet-talk your uncle, we might get answers about the body.” Then he slid it back on and followed Katie upstairs like everything about this conversation was normal.

Meanwhile, I stood there—one part mortified, two parts fuming.

My body locked up. All systems: offline .

Derek heard everything— every intimate, ridiculous, magical little detail about how I’d been getting off for two decades.

“This isn’t some ghost orgy, people!” I called up the stairs. “We’re supposed to be solving a murder!”

“Hey Derek,” Katie chimed. “Isn’t that the name of your band— Ghost Orgies in the Attic? ” Her voice trailed off but her cackle echoed through the house.

Oh, my god.

Chester sat at the top of the stairs like some tiny, judgmental guardian—I didn’t blame him one bit. Because honestly—same.

I trudged up the creaky steps and scooped him into my arms. He curled against my shoulder, purring like he knew I was on the verge of unraveling.

“At least you’re sane,” I whispered, kissing his toes.

“What’s up here?” Derek asked, nodding toward an open door I hadn’t dared touch.

“No clue,” I said, peering up the narrow worn steps. “Probably the attic. I saw a weird green glow there when I moved in…” My stomach clenched. Uncle Silas hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat.

I climbed the stairs, clutching Chester like a furry emotional support stuffy. He trilled softly, his warm fur pressed to my neck. This precious kitten had become a sort of anchor for me, holding me steady so I didn’t break.

“This is it!” Katie gasped, eyes practically glowing. She brushed her fingers over the dust covered sheets draped on the forgotten furniture. “This is where I’m going to lose my ghostly virginity.”

Then she spun in the center of the room like she was in a damn Hallmark movie for the dead.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I rolled my eyes. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Come on, Maggie—you used magic to get laid. Why can’t I?” Katie’s grin was all teeth and trouble.

I shot an eye toward Derek to see if he was listening, “I’m not saying you can’t .” I crossed my arms. “I just figured maybe—and hear me out—solving the murder in my backyard might take priority.”

Katie twirled through the dust, trailing her fingers across forgotten trinkets like she was shopping for cursed antiques.

She yanked a sheet off an old couch, and a plume of dust exploded into the air like it had been saving up for a decade.

“…besides, I never had any witnesses.” I muttered, setting Chester on the couch. He curled into the cushion, claiming it as his throne, oblivious to the chaos brewing.

The attic pulsed with sound and static from Derek’s device, each flicker throwing shadows across the rafters.

Katie pulled out her vial with steady hands and let three drops fall onto her tongue. The liquid shimmered like oil in the low attic light.

Within seconds, she collapsed onto the couch—arms out, head tilted like a broken doll. The vial slipped from her hand and clinked against the floorboards.

“Katie!” Derek was at her side in an instant, checking her over with practiced hands, worry dancing on his face.

“Is she always this impulsive?” I asked, trying to mask my nerves with dry humor. “She came off so level-headed.”

“Sex makes people do dumb shit,” Derek said, throwing me a look over his shoulder. A jab, no doubt, at my spell-cast history of poor choices.

“Don’t I know it,” I muttered, settling on the edge of the couch. Dust clung to my skin as I exhaled, and the memory of the body in the woods gnawed at the back of my mind.

“Katie was right—this is the place,” Derek said, lowering his gear to the floor. Out came thick candles that smelled faintly of vanilla and amber, a stick of chalk, and a calm, unshakeable confidence.

“What the hell kind of séance do you expect to run when our medium’s in REM?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Katie walked me through the setup. Her potion gives her about an hour,” Derek said, already placing candles in a circle. “It kicks in after ten minutes, which gives us time to get everything ready until she… crosses over.”

“What do you mean… crosses over?”

The air thickened, shadows deepening. My head felt like it was floating, disconnected—too many flashes of last night, too much blood in the woods.

“She’ll change—sort of like a ghost… but not exactly,” Derek said, his gaze locked on Katie’s hand as it began to glow blue, the skin fading to transparency.

The glow crept up her arm like fog rising over still water, swallowing her form inch by inch.

“What in the actual hell…” My heart thudded harder as more of the couch showed through her body. She was going transparent—fucking ethereal.

“Derek, tell me she’s going to be okay.”

“I assume…” he shrugged, giving me a sheepish grin. “She never actually showed me how to revive her if… you know… things go south.”

“Christ.” I scrubbed both hands down my face and paced the attic, my shoes whispering over dust and old boards.

This was not what I’d signed up for when I moved to Port Grey. Honestly? I missed my old life—the one with noncommittal sex, breathing bodies, and zero ghost-related activities.

Derek started chalking a pentagram on the floor, like it was just any other day of the week. The candles he’d placed in the center gave off a soft, flickering glow. My gut twisted. We were making a mistake. I could feel it.

“Shouldn’t we wait for your sister and her boyfriend?” I asked, trying to buy time—anything to slow this train down.

Derek snorted. “Laila always says she wants to come to my events, but really? It’s just a new excuse to hook up somewhere weird with her boyfriend.” He rolled his eyes.

I looked back at Katie’s shimmering ghost-body, then at the chalked floor, the candles, the weird-ass radar thing still blinking like mad.

Derek smirked, eyes glinting like he knew something I didn’t. “Come on, it’ll be fun,” he said, in a smooth, persuasive way that didn’t quite match the seriousness of what we were doing. “Just a quick cleansing, and then we get started.”

I hesitated. But he was already holding a bundle of cedar and a pack of matches like it was a done deal.

“You know how to smoke cleanse, right?” he asked, casual and matter of fact.

I nodded, taking the bundle. As the flame caught, the scent of cedar filled the attic—sweet, earthy, grounding. A small comfort, but I clung to it. Derek poured a circle of salt around the chalk- drawn pentagram, his movements methodical—he’d done this hundreds of times.

“What exactly do you think we’re dealing with?” I asked, eyes tracking the salt as it poured. My voice came out tighter than I meant.

He glanced up, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to say. I’ve seen a lot, and it never helps to assume it’s friendly.

A chill licked down my spine.

That’s reassuring.

“Derek, if Katie does manage to seduce the ghost, and it turns out to be evil…” My voice dropped. “What happens to her?”

He paused. Really paused. Then took the cedar from me, like he needed a second to think.

“The dead?” he said finally, “They’re unpredictable. I’ve seen spirits in abandoned asylums twist a room in seconds. One minute you’re talking nice, next you’re dodging flying furniture and praying the salt circles hold.”

He placed the bundle carefully on a metal dish outside the circle, smoke still curling upward like a soft warning.

“We’re walking a fine line,” he said. “And one wrong move?” he looked me dead in the eye, calm but razor-focused—like the weirder it got, the steadier he became. “Things get messy.”

We gathered in a tight circle around the flickering candles, their glow warm but uneasy.

The air crackled with a charge I couldn’t explain.

Chester let out a low mew and pawed at Katie—who was now fully translucent, like a film of fog had draped itself across her skin.

She stirred and dragged a finger gently down Chester’s spine.

He flattened against the couch, ears pinned, unsure whether to purr or bolt.

Katie rose slowly, eyes locked on something behind us—something I couldn’t see but felt crawling down my neck.