Page 10 of Ghosted (The Ravenwood #1)

NINE

After calling Wren and getting her voicemail, I fear I’m on my own for the night.

I know most people would probably think it was pathetic that my sister is my only friend, but it’s just easier that way.

Growing up, I had friends here and there, but I found out most of them were using me to get to my cool aunt, who had already become something of a local legend by the time I was in high school.

Teenage girls really want their tarot cards read.

Wren has never had that same problem. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not exactly a social butterfly, but the confidence she carries herself with is magnetic.

People are drawn to her, even if they are a little afraid of her.

Sure, she had the same issue with people trying to get to know Aunt Clarissa growing up, but she usually got rid of those “friendships” before they even truly began.

Maybe watching me get hurt over and over was enough to prevent her from attempting connections with those types.

She saw how I often made myself smaller, trying to keep friends who didn’t care about me, and decided never to shrink.

So, my sister usually ends up being out with other people on the weekends while I stay in to work or grab a coffee solo across the street.

It’s not that she doesn’t invite me; she does.

I just usually decline. I don’t want her to feel like she has to be my buffer, which is what typically happens when I go out with her and her friends.

I can be friendly on a surface level, like the way I am with Misha, but anything deeper spooks me.

That’s why I’m so disappointed about Dean.

It felt easy in a way I’ve never experienced before.

It sucks to learn that feeling didn’t go both ways.

I shake my head, reminding myself that I am not supposed to be thinking about him because I’ve given him too much of my bandwidth already.

I look around my living room and sigh, resigned to spend another Friday night alone.

I perk up at the sight of the box of goods on my desk for the witchy mystery boxes and decide, like the rest of my generation, that the company of strangers on the internet is preferable to being alone. Even if they never see my face.

“Rae Baby! How is my favorite niece?” Aunt Clarissa billows into The Veil, bangles jangling on her wrists and dripping in a multitude of gems.

I can’t help but chuckle from my place behind the counter. “You say that to both me and Wren. How am I supposed to believe you? ”

“Well, you’re the one carrying on my legacy,” she says, sweeping her arms in a grand gesture around the store, making the bell sleeves of her shirt flap like butterfly wings. “That must mean I like you at least a little more,” she argues.

“Ah, or it means that Wren couldn’t be bothered to run an entire store,” I say with a raised brow.

Aunt Clarissa scowls. “That girl never did care about our legacy.”

“Oh come on, she doesn’t hide her Gift nearly as much as I do,” I say, always ready to go to battle for my little sister, even if Aunt Clarissa means nothing by it.

She turns her glare on me, those blue eyes just like mine and my sisters' burning bright. “True. Both of you need to realize what a privilege you are blessed with. Do you know how few people have the Gift?”

I raise my hands in defeat, not wanting to get into this lecture again.

“Okay, alright. Super cool that I see dead people. Now, what’s up?

” She sniffs at my sardonic tone and begins straightening the display of teas at the register.

She hardly comes into the shop anymore, especially unannounced.

So her sudden appearance makes me nervous.

When she looks up from her task, she must read the concern on my face because she says, “You’re not in trouble! I have some ideas for the store, that’s all. I was coming in to chat about it. Do you have a minute?”

I nod and gesture her over to the fainting couch. Once we both get seated, I ask, “What’s up?”

“Well, I know you’ve been doing well with the online store, but I want to do something more to revamp the brick and mortar. We hardly have any foot traffic these days. ”

“Yeah, but Halloween is just around the corner. That always brings an influx of customers, so I’m not too worried. We usually make most of our sales during October anyway,” I say, leaning against the backrest.

Aunt Clarissa purses her wrinkled lips and leans forward, sending a waft of old cigarette smoke and amber my way. “Right! So, how do we get our October customers to want to come back the rest of the year?”

I wait a beat to see if she’ll answer her own rhetorical question before asking, “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”

“Don’t be petulant,” she chides. She sits straighter and folds her hands together over her lap. “I know you’ve been hesitant to use your Gift in the past, but?—”

“Nope,” I say, cutting her off. I begin to stand, not wanting to finish this conversation.

“Wait! You haven’t even heard me out yet.”

I sit back down reluctantly and say, “Okay, fine.”

Aunt Clarissa readjusts herself, excess jewelry jingling.

“I know your… ‘issue’ with using your gift in such a way stems from the lack of anonymity. Now, I may not understand why you want to hide your Gift from the light,”—she sniffs in disgruntlement and continues—“but, what if we could ensure no one knew it was you? Maybe we could have you behind a curtain? Could be very mysterious.”

“What, like the Wizard of Oz ? You know I can’t just summon someone from beyond anyway.

There would be no way for me to do that authentically, and I’m not going to scam people.

” I fold my arms across my chest. This is a conversation we’ve had so many times.

Well, okay, the whole curtain idea is new, but still .

“I know that, and I know you hold yourself to some ridiculous moral standard,” I roll my eyes, but she barrels on. “But, I want you to try to summon someone. You’ve never allowed yourself to try because you don’t want any more power than you already have,” she says.

I purse my lips, annoyed at being read so easily.

She’s right that I’ve never tried to actively summon a spirit.

Honestly, most of the time, I do my best not to seek out the dead.

If they find me, I’ll help, but I’m not going to go looking for Casper.

It might be possible to summon a dead person, but I’m afraid of using that kind of power.

For the most part, the spirits I’ve interacted with have been grateful for the help because they are the ones looking for me.

What if I call on someone who doesn’t want to be found?

“It could be dangerous,” I say, which is honestly just a drop in the bucket of my concerns.

She waves that away with an elegant flick of her hand. “Pah. The dead hardly influence the living. It is no more dangerous than attracting butterflies to your flower box with aster.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. While the dead may not be as strong as the living, they can cause trouble when they want to. If we’re going to talk about this, be honest with me. Why the sudden need for extra income?” I ask, knowing there must be something else going on.

She sighs dramatically and grabs one of my hands with her own.

“Alright, dear. I’ll be honest. You know I’m getting old and that I would like to fully retire soon.

Do you remember my friend, Esther?” When I nod, she says, “Well, Esther moved to a fantastic little retirement community called Sunset Village down in Florida, and I want to join her. ”

I can’t help the way my eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “You? In a retirement community? Playing Bingo and riding golf carts?”

“That’s ageist, darling,” she sniffs. “Besides, bingo is quite fun when you’re with the right people.”

I shake my head incredulously. Never in my life did I think my larger-than-life aunt would want to do something as pedestrian as spending the last of her days in a retirement community. And besides, I’m not sure what this news has to do with the store or my Gift.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before saying, “Other than checking to see if you’ve been switched with a body double, we have more to talk about.

What does your retirement plan have to do with the store?

Why are you so concerned with making more money?

” Honestly, the store is mostly in my care, anyway.

She hardly pays attention to the business side anymore.

She likes to add in her opinion here and there, but for the most part, it’s all on me.

I thought we were doing okay financially, so I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.

Her brows draw together, and for a moment, she genuinely looks her age, which is frightening in and of itself.

“Mr. Beauhurst is upping the rent for this entire block of buildings, ours included. Even if I wasn’t planning on going to a nice retirement community, we’d need to make more than we are now to stay afloat. ”

I sit back feeling more than a little stunned. The Veil has been both my home away from home, and my actual home. I quite literally took my first steps in here, tripping over the rug as I did it. I got my first set of keys to a place that was all my own here. I can’t fathom losing it.

I look around at the artfully crafted chaos of the store and try to imagine it as a brightly lit, uniformly decorated supplement store.

Or maybe it would become a new Starbucks and push Brewed Awakening out of business.

I shudder. “How much more do we need to make a month?” I ask, immediately shifting into problem-solving mode.

She clears her throat and says, “Sunset Village costs about five thousand a month, and our rent is upping an extra three thousand per month.”

I feel like I’m going to be sick. “We need eight thousand dollars extra a month? Almost an extra hundred thousand a year? ”