Page 6 of Deceiver (Soul Chasers #2)

Nausea swirls in my gut while I wait for some kind of response. Suddenly, Talon’s hands move in a jerky manner, the planchette moving to the word No on the board.

“No. He said no.” I should be relieved but a sense of foreboding still lingers in the air.

Talon nods, but both she and Mercy look concerned. Talon’s brow creases as she glances at her friend.

“You can tell the truth, Harold. Law enforcement can’t do anything to you now.”

“He’s lying?” I ask in a whisper. “How do you know that?”

“Just intuition,” Talon says.

“There’s a different energy when a lie is given,” Mercy explains. “We can feel it.”

“Please don’t lie, Dad,” I try. “I need to make peace with this.”

Talon’s fingers move wildly across the board, the movements making no sense until a short word is formed, S-O-N .

“Yes,” Talon says. “Keagan is your son, and he’s here. He’s looking for answers.” She shoots a concerned glance my way before looking at Mercy, who nods. “Did you commit the murders?” Talon asks. “Are you the Dagger Killer?”

The planchette flies out of Talon’s hand and the bedroom door opens and slams several times. I flinch each time.

“Fuck,” Mercy says. “He’s angry.”

“No judgment, Harold,” Talon says calmly, reaching across the board to pick up the planchette. “Keagan just wants to know. That’s all.”

Her fingers begin to move again, spelling out a simple word, G-O .

Mercy frowns. “He doesn’t want to talk to us anymore.”

“You can talk to me, Dad. You can tell me the truth.”

“No, Keagan,” Talon says, gripping my forearm. “Don’t invite him in.”

“He’s already here.”

“I mean into you. Don’t give him an opening.”

I nod, biting my bottom lip. “Ask him?—”

“He can hear you,” Mercy says.

“Right.” I clear my throat again. “I believe you, Dad. If you say it wasn’t you, then I accept that.”

I’m aware of Mercy and Talon’s disapproving looks from the corner of my eye.

“But why didn’t you come around more often? Why now?”

Nothing happens, and the silence in the room is eerie. Talon tilts her head back, almost frozen as her eyelids flutter. She nods, blowing out a breath.

“Use the spirit board.” She pushes the planchette towards me. “I sense he wants to talk directly to you through it.”

“What do I do?”

“Just put your fingertips on the planchette. It will move when Harold directs it to.”

“Okay.” I put my fingers on the small wooden object, waiting patiently even as a sense of foreboding grips my chest.

Then I feel the vibration in my hands and the planchette begins to move. The first letter is B. Mercy scribbles down each subsequent letter as my fingers dance across the board until we end with a two-word phrase: bad father.

I nod, unsure what to ask next, but my fingers move again, spelling out more words.

When the movement stops, Mercy makes a concerned noise. “He says ‘make up for it now.’”

“Shit,” Talon mutters. “That means he’s not planning to leave anytime soon.”

“How will you make up for it?” I ask. “You’re dead.”

My fingers fly across the board, but I only catch a few letters. Fortunately, Mercy seems to be writing them all down. When it stops, she shows her notebook to Talon.

“What does it say?” I ask.

“It says ‘not dead.’” Talon looks a little pale. “And ‘fix it.’”

“Fix what?”

She shrugs. “Your relationship, maybe. He’s got unfinished business for sure. He either doesn’t know or doesn’t accept that he’s dead.”

“He knows,” Mercy says. “He’s being stubborn.” She directs her gaze to the ceiling. “How will you fix it? You can tell Keagan.”

My fingers remain still.

“Is he gone?” Talon asks.

“No,” Mercy says. “Definitely still here. Let me try something.” She clears her throat. “Harold, if you answer us, we’ll leave. Just assure us you’re not here to hurt Keagan. Can you do that?”

A strange sensation washes over me, like when you feel you’re being watched, or there’s something hiding in the dark waiting to catch you. I glance around the room, and while it looks ordinary, it feels like anything but.

Then the tugging returns to my fingers and the planchette moves to spell the word Never .

“Never,” Talon whispers. “He’ll never hurt Keagan.” She puts her hand on my wrist. “That’s a good sign. I don’t sense any deception.”

“Same here,” Mercy says. “I think we’ve pushed as far as we can for today. I’m not sure he’ll answer your questions, but we can give it a few days and try again. Maybe with a little more time, he’ll respond better.”

I nod, even though I’m disappointed. “Thanks for this. At least we got somewhere.”

Talon nods. “He promises not to hurt you, but he came for something, so be careful.”

“I’m not scared of him.”

“Good, but that doesn’t mean you should trust him either. Spirits can be tricky.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Mercy blows out the candles and collects her crystals while Talon packs up her board. I hand the amethyst necklace back to Mercy.

“There’s a metaphysical store about three miles from here,” Mercy says. “You can get another crystal there just for some added spiritual protection.”

“Thanks.”

I walk them down the stairs and to the front door, and Talon offers me a slight smile. “I’ll call and check on you tomorrow, but if anything major comes up, feel free to call. Or maybe call Wilder.”

“I will.”

The two women leave, and as I watch them drive off, an idea comes to me. If my dad wants to talk to me, I could get my own ouija board. I’m not a medium, but if he knows how to use it, maybe we could communicate that way. It’s worth a shot.

If what Talon and Mercy said about him lying was true, I need to find out more. Why would he lie about it now when he’s dead?

I glance up the stairs, noting how quiet and peaceful it seems now. Could he have left? Part of me knows it would be a great thing if he did, but the part that needs to know the truth is a lot stronger.

Decision made, I grab my keys from the entry table and head outside. I’m getting a ouija board, and I hope that somehow I can make it work. This is my last chance to close the door on this mystery once and for all.