Lorne see what she was going to do. She doubted that he was ready to see her raise up a spirit to talk to.
Especially when that spirit was going to be Chloe.
Chapter Five
Back at her motel , Darcy stifled a yawn. It had been a long day. A long couple of days, for that matter. She really shouldn't do what she was contemplating when she was this tired. There just wasn't a whole lot of choice. Some answers could only come from the source.
She had performed too many communications to count. Some with greater success than others. Ghosts could be very reluctant conversationalists. A few had tried to hurt her rather than offer up the secrets they held. Up to this point, she'd been careful, or blessed, or just plain lucky that nothing serious had ever happened to her. That didn't mean it never would.
The effort was exhausting even when the spirit participant was willing, like she was hoping Chloe was going to be. A little bit of herself went into each effort. If she had to put too much effort into the conjuring, there was a risk she might not recover.
Ever.
Sighing, taking a last drink from the soda bottle she had bought from the vending machine outside the motel's office after Lorne had dropped her off, she settled cross-legged into the center of the ring of candles she'd laid out on the floor. They were already lit. The room smelled of hot wax and the incense stick she had burning on the dresser. Everything was ready.
So why was she still hesitating?
Emotions weighed her down like a lead balloon tied around her. She was getting in her own way, she realized. Her feelings were just too heavy for her to ignore them and center herself. Anger. Sadness.
Guilt.
There it was. There was the real reason it was so hard for her to call on her friend's ghost. She felt guilty. Guilty that she hadn't been here when Chloe died, that she hadn't stayed closer to her best friend, that all of the paranormal abilities at her fingertips couldn't bring Chloe back.
But they could do one thing to help ease her own emotional burden, and to help bring some peace to Chloe. They could help Darcy find Chloe's killer. Catching hold of that thought she put it front and center in her thoughts like a burning torch. It let her breathe a little easier.
"Okay," she said to herself, "we're going to do this. Now. Right now."
Her pep talk fired her up and she clenched her teeth and took a few more slow, deep breaths, and told herself it was now or never.
Never wasn't really an option.
Usually, in order to call to someone on the other side like this, she would need a personal item of theirs to help make the connection. She'd used coins and photos and stuffed animals and live pets and just about anything else she could get her hands on when the need arose. In this case, she didn't have anything of Chloe's. She didn't need anything, either. The connection they shared as friends would be more than enough to bridge any gap between this world and the next.
Clearing her mind out, imagining a rolling fog covering every thought and every concern and every…well, everything, she peered into those mists, and called upon the spirit of—
Chloe.
She was there instantly, the curling tendrils of fog twisting into each other and rising up to create the shape and then the substance of her friend. Just like that. Usually she'd have to call on the spirit and guide it down a figurative pathway to where she waited, or pull it forward kicking and screaming. Chloe practically leapt into her vision. It was so sudden that Darcy felt herself rock backward where she sat, even though the sensations of her real body were a distant hum like a pestering insect.
" Hiya Darcy," Chloe said to her. "Long time, no see."
She was wearing a long, flowing white dress in Darcy's vision, a pair o f matching shoes held in her hand by their straps. Standing barefoot, she pushed the long tresses of her golden
Especially when that spirit was going to be Chloe.
Chapter Five
Back at her motel , Darcy stifled a yawn. It had been a long day. A long couple of days, for that matter. She really shouldn't do what she was contemplating when she was this tired. There just wasn't a whole lot of choice. Some answers could only come from the source.
She had performed too many communications to count. Some with greater success than others. Ghosts could be very reluctant conversationalists. A few had tried to hurt her rather than offer up the secrets they held. Up to this point, she'd been careful, or blessed, or just plain lucky that nothing serious had ever happened to her. That didn't mean it never would.
The effort was exhausting even when the spirit participant was willing, like she was hoping Chloe was going to be. A little bit of herself went into each effort. If she had to put too much effort into the conjuring, there was a risk she might not recover.
Ever.
Sighing, taking a last drink from the soda bottle she had bought from the vending machine outside the motel's office after Lorne had dropped her off, she settled cross-legged into the center of the ring of candles she'd laid out on the floor. They were already lit. The room smelled of hot wax and the incense stick she had burning on the dresser. Everything was ready.
So why was she still hesitating?
Emotions weighed her down like a lead balloon tied around her. She was getting in her own way, she realized. Her feelings were just too heavy for her to ignore them and center herself. Anger. Sadness.
Guilt.
There it was. There was the real reason it was so hard for her to call on her friend's ghost. She felt guilty. Guilty that she hadn't been here when Chloe died, that she hadn't stayed closer to her best friend, that all of the paranormal abilities at her fingertips couldn't bring Chloe back.
But they could do one thing to help ease her own emotional burden, and to help bring some peace to Chloe. They could help Darcy find Chloe's killer. Catching hold of that thought she put it front and center in her thoughts like a burning torch. It let her breathe a little easier.
"Okay," she said to herself, "we're going to do this. Now. Right now."
Her pep talk fired her up and she clenched her teeth and took a few more slow, deep breaths, and told herself it was now or never.
Never wasn't really an option.
Usually, in order to call to someone on the other side like this, she would need a personal item of theirs to help make the connection. She'd used coins and photos and stuffed animals and live pets and just about anything else she could get her hands on when the need arose. In this case, she didn't have anything of Chloe's. She didn't need anything, either. The connection they shared as friends would be more than enough to bridge any gap between this world and the next.
Clearing her mind out, imagining a rolling fog covering every thought and every concern and every…well, everything, she peered into those mists, and called upon the spirit of—
Chloe.
She was there instantly, the curling tendrils of fog twisting into each other and rising up to create the shape and then the substance of her friend. Just like that. Usually she'd have to call on the spirit and guide it down a figurative pathway to where she waited, or pull it forward kicking and screaming. Chloe practically leapt into her vision. It was so sudden that Darcy felt herself rock backward where she sat, even though the sensations of her real body were a distant hum like a pestering insect.
" Hiya Darcy," Chloe said to her. "Long time, no see."
She was wearing a long, flowing white dress in Darcy's vision, a pair o f matching shoes held in her hand by their straps. Standing barefoot, she pushed the long tresses of her golden
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