The World of The Gateway Boxset Read online

  Melding was a handy little trick we’d learned after a few months of us all living together in our on-campus suite during my first year back at St. Matt’s. After weeks of having to repeat everything Milo said to Tia, Hannah decided it was time to research options for facilitating communication before we all lost our minds. The Book of Téigh Anonn—the Durupinen bible—was full of Castings, many of which were too complicated or too terrifying to attempt, but the page devoted to Melding was simple and straightforward. After a little practice, Melding became very easy to do. In fact, the hardest part of the entire process was convincing Tia to go through with it.

  As we discovered from our research, not all Meldings were equal. In fact, if I took two random strangers off the street, one living and one dead, and tried to Meld them, the living person would most likely have only the faintest sense of the spirit’s presence. On the other hand, Melding was especially effective when the spirit and the living person were both closely tied to the Durupinen who performed the Casting; a Melding between my best friend and my Spirit Guide created a powerful connection.

  Tia held out her hand, as she had done countless times before, and I untucked the pen I’d stashed in my hair and sketched three simple runes onto her palm, while muttering the Gaelic Casting as I did so.

  “There we go. Spider-sense activated,” I told her as I finished. “Try not to wash it off.”

  Tia lifted her head, shook her hair out of her eyes, and caught sight of Milo. She laughed.

  “Hey there, stranger! Long time, no see!”

  “Feast your eyes, girl!” Milo cried, and performed a catwalk strut for her benefit.

  The Melding would only last until the runes wore off, and then we’d have to do it again. And it only worked on Milo. If our goth spirit turned up, Tia wouldn’t be able to see her—although, if I had to bet, I’d guess our girl would make her presence known in other ways, ways that didn’t require a Durupinen temporary tattoo.

  “This place is so great. I know it’s haunted, but I can’t believe the deal you got on rent,” Tia said, once she and Milo had ceased gushing over each other.

  I nodded. “I felt guilty taking it. I know Tanya only dropped the price that low because she couldn’t find anyone to rent it to, what with the preexisting roommate. But at least I’m providing her a service. I’ll take care the spirit, and she’ll be able to rent out the other two apartments. It’s a win-win, really.”

  “Was it hard to get Finn’s stamp of approval on the place? I know how picky he is,” Tia asked, glancing quickly at me.

  Part of me inwardly cringed at the idea of Finn’s “approval.” When I’d first found out about the Caomhnóir—the soldier-like units who protected the Durupinen and their Gateways—I’d rebelled against the idea with everything I had. Having a Guardian assigned to us made me miserable—and Finn was especially miserable, although not for the reasons I had thought. Long story short, he’d proclaimed his love to me—in poetry, no less—and for a while it had seemed like we could have a future together. “Seemed like” being the operative words.

  “Well, he might start sleeping on the living room floor until he gets a better sense of how hostile this spirit is, but other than that, he approves.”

  “So, does he have a place to stay yet, or…”

  “Oh yeah, he’s all set up in a cushy apartment, fully furnished. Caomhnóir benefits. He just got a new car, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. An Escalade, I think. You know the type—shiny and black with tinted windows and a carbon footprint the size of a dinosaur’s. Every time we ride in it, Milo asks Finn how long he’s been driving for Uber.”

  Tia laughed. “Wow. Must be nice.”

  “Right? Where’s my sweet ride and my free apartment? I call bullshit,” I said.

  “No, I call bullshit,” Milo chimed in. “Are you telling me that if the Durupinen offered you that stuff you’d take it?”

  Being the civilized young adult that I was, I stuck my tongue out at him. Of course I wasn’t going to take Durupinen handouts—not that they’d been offering much lately. I’d made it pretty clear how little I’d wanted to do with the Durupinen since walking out of Fairhaven Hall nearly three years ago. Hannah and I were supposed to stay and complete our training, but after thwarting a near spirit-apocalypse, we’d both decided we’d had enough of the Durupinen—and the Durupinen, for once, didn’t argue. I think we’d offended them when we refused a seat on their Council, which was fine by me. Karen had helped us complete our training at home in Boston, which was basically unheard of. But, then again, I think the Council was too terrified of Hannah’s raw power to say no.

  Usually, the Durupinen would find ways to ease the transition into life as a full-time Crosser of the dead, but we’d slammed that door pretty forcefully behind us; opening it for perks meant letting in a world of trouble we had no desire to revisit. So, yes, despite my grumbling and complaining, Milo was right. But naturally I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying so out loud; he was insufferable enough as it was.

  “So you guys are okay? You and Finn, I mean?” Tia asked, with a delicate hesitation in her voice.

  “We’re fine,” I said firmly. “We’re always fine.”

  “Wow, you really should stop using the word fine,” said Milo. “It’s pretty obvious you have no idea what it means.”

  A knock on the door interrupted what would surely have been a brilliant and crushing reply. I held my tongue, and jumped up to answer the door.

  Karen stood on our threshold with two large brown paper bags and an ear-to-ear grin.

  “Happy housewarming!” she cried.

  “Hey Karen! I didn’t know you were coming today!” I said, stepping forward to take one of the bags; they looked heavy and precariously balanced in her arms.

  “Oh Jess, funny story!” Milo called brightly from the living room. “Your Aunt Karen called and left a message saying she was going to stop by this morning! Call her back if you want her to reschedule!”

  “It’s so hard to find good help these days,” I said to Karen, who laughed, but then hesitated in the doorway.

  “Is it a bad time? I don’t have to stay long. I just wanted to drop these things off for you girls. And I thought I could lend a hand getting you set up.”

  “No, it’s fine! We’re just unpacking, but I could use a break,” I replied. “Come in, come in! I’m excited for you to see it!”

  “Hi Karen!” Tia came bounding into the entryway, and greeted Karen with a warm hug.

  “Tia, it’s lovely to see you! I didn’t realize you were moving in today!” Karen said, returning Tia’s squeeze.

  Tia shrugged. “I only had one morning class today, so I thought I might as well get started. I’m so glad Jess found this place! Grad housing wasn’t working out at all—living with my suite mates was a nightmare.”

  “Hey K-K!” Milo said, materializing beside me and peeking into Karen’s bags.

  “Ugh, no one likes that nickname!” I groaned, as we crossed through the living room and into the kitchen. But Karen just laughed.

  “Hello Milo,” she replied. “Settling in alright?”

  “Home sweet haunt!” he chirped.

  “Oh Karen, thank you so much, this is great!” I said, pulling a tub of cleaning supplies and a potted succulent out of the first bag.

  “You’re welcome! I was going for a combination of practical and decorative,” she replied. “And I promise, even you can’t kill that houseplant, Jess.”

  “Famous last words,” I muttered.

  “And I got you some kitchen staples. A set of spices, a colander, and, of course…”

  I opened the other bag. It contained a fancy new coffee maker, and about fifteen boxes of macaroni and cheese, the orange-powder kind that gives you the delightful feeling that you’re five years old again every time you eat it.

  “Woo-hoo! My dinner of champions!” I cried. “Aw, and the macaroni is even shaped like SpongeBob. You
know me so well.”

  “Naturally,” Karen replied. She was, by this time, well aware of my utter lack of cooking skills—a talent she also conspicuously lacked. Not cooking hadn’t caused her too much inconvenience when she’d had Noah to do some occasional meal prep, but now Karen lived off of takeout more frequently than ever.

  “So? Who’s going to give me the grand tour?” Karen asked. I had a wildly strong moment of déjà vu, remembering Karen use that very same phrase years ago. The memory flashed across my mind—me, having just lost my mom, wandering awestruck through Karen’s immaculate brownstone for the first time, knowing that I would have to live there yet too scared to touch anything. In that moment, when all I had wanted to do was sprint for the front door, I could never have imagined that Karen would become—in just a few years—someone who not only knew all of my favorite vices, but enabled them. We had come a very long way; I think my mom would’ve been happy about that.

  Our “grand tour” only took a minute or two, but Karen pronounced every room “perfect!” in her quintessentially supportive way.

  “There’s… um, just one thing I noticed that you might want to take care of,” said Karen quietly as we all congregated in the kitchen again.

  “What’s that?”

  “Well,” she began, throwing a cautious look over her shoulder to make sure that Tia couldn’t hear her. “I’m pretty sure I felt something in one of the bedrooms, and it’s possible that…”

  “Oh yeah, don’t worry, we know all about that,” I said. “Tia does, too.”

  Karen glanced a bit sheepishly over at Tia. “Oh. Did you know there was a spirit attached to this apartment when you decided to move here?”

  It was my turn to look sheepish now. “We, uh… might’ve used that knowledge to take advantage of a greatly reduced rent.”

  Karen raised an eyebrow. I held up my hands defensively.

  “I also agreed to help get rid of the spirit so the landlord can rent the other two units,” I explained. “I’d say that is a very fair trade, wouldn’t you?”

  “Okay then. Just make sure you aren’t turning into one of those people you keep trying to bust,” Karen replied firmly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, truly stung. “We’re not scamming anyone! And Tanya’s finally going to start making money on the other units again! We’re offering a public service here, for the greater good. You can’t say that about any of the people we go after!”

  “No, you’re right. I can’t,” Karen said almost apologetically, before taking on a firmer tone. “But it’s a fine line sometimes, Jess, and I just want to make sure that you’re always squarely on the right side of it, okay? And speaking of your projects, don’t you think it would be a good idea to—”

  I could think of any number of things it would’ve been a good idea for me to do in that moment. However, the most pressing of those things was ducking for cover as a chair flew at my head.

  3

  Madame Rabinski’s Mystical Oddities

  WE DROPPED TO THE FLOOR, COVERING OUR FACES. The chair hit the wall with such force that one of its front legs splintered off and spun across the room, coming to rest only inches from my face. The temperature in the kitchen had dropped about twenty degrees in a matter of seconds, and Tia’s scream still hung like a speech bubble in the space above us.

  “What the hell was that?” Karen gasped from somewhere behind the kitchen island.

  I pulled my arms off of my head and looked around. The spirit had never even shown herself, and she was already gone from the room. And so, I realized, was Milo.

  “Did you see where Milo went?” I asked the room at large.

  “N-no, I had my eyes shut,” Tia muttered, still curled up on the floor. “They’re still shut. Probably not going to open them until sometime next week.”

  “It’s okay, she’s gone I think,” I said. I sat up straight, closed my eyes, and reached into the depths of my mental space, where my connection to Milo waited, pulsing in its eagerness to bring us together.

  “Milo? Are you okay? Did you see her?” I thought-spoke to him.

  “I’m on her tail now,” Milo said faintly. If Milo were alive he would have been out of breath from the chase, but instead his fatigue manifested itself by making his voice weak and muffled. “She’s trying to shake me, but I’ve got a lead on her energy. Bitch is going down.”

  “See what you can find out, but be careful, obviously,” I said.

  “Obviously.”

  I pulled away from our connection and placed a gentle hand on Tia’s shoulder. She flinched as if I’d slapped her.

  “It’s okay Tia. She’s really gone. Milo is tailing her.”

  “I knew you had a spirit here, but you didn’t mention she wanted to kill you!” Karen cried, as she pulled herself to her feet and straightened her glasses.

  Tia sat up and drew a shaky breath. “Remind me why I decide time and again to live with you?”

  “Because you love me?”

  “Do I, though?” she asked; although Tia’s voice was still audibly shaking, she smiled as she said it.

  “Unconditionally,” I said, and returned the smile guiltily. “We’ll have that spirit out of here really soon. I promise.”

  “This kind of thing is a Durupinen occupational hazard. As Jess’ best friend, I’m afraid this is collateral damage.” Karen said, reaching a hand out to help Tia to her feet. “I was the least popular girl in my sorority, I’m sure you can imagine. Too many strange things happened when I was around. You really ought to Ward the place, Jess, if the spirit is that hostile.”

  “We haven’t had a chance to put the Wards up yet because Hannah’s had that huge project for class,” I explained. “I was also kind of hoping we might find out a little more about the spirit before we kick her out, maybe even get her to Cross. But if she’s throwing furniture, she’s got to go.” I turned back to Tia. “Soon this place will be as ghost-free as our dorm was, I promise. Well, at least as ghost-free as after I got back from Fairhaven, anyway.” Unfortunately, Tia and I had had more than our fair share of Visitations during our freshman year, before I’d started my paranormal education.

  Tia stood up, dusted off her jeans, and assumed a businesslike air. “Well, you can make it up to me by helping me haul my med school textbooks up here.”

  I stood up too, flexing my non-existent muscles. “You got it, boss.

  “I’ll help, too,” Karen said. She was smiling brightly for Tia’s benefit, but I caught her eyeing the door to the living room warily as we followed Tia into the hallway and down the stairs.

  “So where’s Sam this afternoon?” Karen asked. “How did he get out of moving his girlfriend into her new apartment?”

  “He’s working,” said Tia. “He had to trade shifts at the nursing home to get time off for his internship next week.”

  “A likely excuse. Maybe he’s protesting—you could have moved into his apartment instead.” I kept my tone intentionally—painstakingly—casual.

  Tia refused to even look at me, and instead raised her chin in a dignified manner as she popped open her trunk. “Sam is well aware that his apartment is much too far from the Commuter Rail for me to live there. Besides, living with him would be one thing, but living with his two roommates? Absolutely not.” She wrinkled her nose, as though she could smell the socks and unwashed dishes from here.

  This was Tia’s go-to defense. She and Sam had been together since I set them up in our freshman year, but he was much more eager to take big life steps together than she was. There was also, of course, Tia’s strict religious upbringing, which would never allow “living in sin.” But most of all, it was Tia’s laser-focus on her education and career that kept her from taking the next step in her relationship. Ambitious, bright, and dedicated to her goals—that was our girl.

  I opened my mouth to tease her just a bit more, but all I could get out was a grunt. With a wide, innocent, smile on her face, Tia had just thrust the biggest, h
eaviest box from her trunk into my arms. Knowing full well I deserved it for joking about such a touchy subject, I turned without complaint to lug the box up the stairs.

  §

  “We’d better get rid of this spirit soon, because I’m never moving ever again,” I said to myself as I panted. I had just heaved a huge stack of broken-down boxes onto the curb. After three hours of unpacking, I was finally beginning to understand the trend toward minimalist living. I mean, who actually needs three boxes of black boots?

  “Sorry. I failed you,” Milo said dejectedly. His voice preceded him as he popped into view.

  “I thought you said the bitch was going down? What happened?”

  “Traffic jam.”

  “A what now?” I asked, genuinely stumped. I’d heard of many things in my time as a Durupinen, but a spirit traffic jam was a new one.

  “I underestimated the spirit population here. It’s like trying to track a single drop of moisture in a heavy fog,” Milo said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure if it’s because local spirits choose to stay here, or if spirits from other places are drawn here, but I’ve never existed in a place so crowded with my kind.”

  “Your kind? You mean flamboyant pains in the ass?”

  Milo stuck his tongue out at me, but otherwise ignored my dig. “There’s just way more of them than anywhere else I’ve ever been, except for Fairhaven. I haven’t been here long enough to investigate exactly why yet. Maybe Salem has a fierce deadside club scene?” Milo mused, with a faint longing in his voice. “But whatever the reason, our roommate used it to her advantage and got lost in the crowd. I just couldn’t keep a good hold on her energy.”

  “Well, Salem is supposed to be one of the most haunted cities in the country. The witch trials and all that. I always thought the ghost stuff was just a rumor to attract tourists, but maybe there’s more to it?”

  “Oh, there’s definitely more to it. Although I guess that could be what brought a lot of the spirits here.”

  “What, you mean like… spirit tourists?”