Page 30 of The Sisters of Crimson House

Charley smiled at them cautiously. “Yes, I did.” She wasn’t crazy. She held out her palm to Astrid. “I’m pretty sure it’s connected to this.”

Astrid tentatively took hold of Charley’s hand, studying her palm and the puffy red line that split its center. “Is that what I think it is? On your palm?”

Charley carefully ran a finger over the wound. “I think it’s the Seeker’s Star. Or the beginnings of it.”

“Shut. Up!” Astrid squealed as Zavier touched Charley’s arm in apology.

“Will you forgive me for being the world’s biggest asshole?” he said, his eyes hopeful.

“Of course, you big dummy,” Charley said, then yelped as Zavier picked her up and spun her around the lobby.

“I’m still nauseous!” she complained, but she was laughing as she said it, giddy with… What was that feeling, pride?

Zavier set her down to study her hand. “So you’re legit now? You’re a Bryde psychic?”

“No, she’s not,” Miranda said, elbowing her way through Astrid and Zavier’s cheerleading circle to grab hold of Charley’s hand. “This is not happening.” She turned the palm toward her, regarding the line as if it were about to sprout fangs and bite her. “When?” she asked, her voice low, urgent.

“The day you got here,” said Charley, ripping her hand away from Miranda’s grasp. She didn’t like the way her sister was looking at her, like a bug needed to be squashed.

“You lied to me,” she said. She didn’t look hurt or offended. She looked scared.

“I wasn’t sure it was anything,” Charley said, her gaze shifting to Astrid. She’d lied outright to her friend as well. Of course she’d known it was something. How to say out loud how painful hope could feel? It wasn’t a beautiful thing that blossomed in her chest, but a knife, poised to slip between the ribs.

“Could just be a cut,” said Miranda, angling to get another look. Charley cradled her hand against her body like it was a wounded bird.

“But this is the miracle we’ve needed,” said Zavier, looking between the two sisters. “Think of what we could do. Business goes through the roof thanks to Charley’s new abilities. We make needed repairs on the house. Get the neighbors off our back.”

“Pump the brakes,” Charley said, laughing at Z, but privately her mind was chasing down the same possibilities. What would this mean? More importantly, how soon would she know? “As far as anyone else knows, I’ve always been legit,” she said. “Am I supposed to say, Hey, just fooling before. I’m for real now? And we don’t even know that I am,” she warned Z. “It’s just one line.”

“Charley’s right,” said Miranda, more to herself than the group. She chewed on her thumbnail, pacing. “I can work with you to suppress it. I don’t think it’s too late.” She reached out to take Charley’s hand again, which she pulled back in indignation.

Charley sneered at her sister. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

“That spirit you just saw? He’s always been in this house, Charley.”

“I know who the colonel is,” said Charley, defensively. “We talk about him on the tour all the time.”

“But you’ve never actually seen his ugly mug until now,” said Miranda, her eyes returning to the foyer, where he’d been standing. Charley had always pictured a rakish dandy in an immaculately pressed suit. At least she hadn’t been mistaken about his monstrous ego.

“Now he can see you,” Miranda continued. “That mark will only make you more visible and make them more confident in saying hello. That can’t happen.”

Charley shuddered at the thought. The way that ghost had leered at her, seeming to grow larger as if he could taste her fear.

Miranda moved closer to her, sensing an opening. “You shouldn’t have to carry the burden of what comes with the Seeker’s Star, Charley. Leave that to me, and you can go on living a normal life.”

“Normal?” Charley gave a little laugh. “How martyriffic of you to let me go back to being normal.” What the actual fuck did this woman know about her normal? And why would she think Charley would prefer to go back there?

“I just want what’s best for you,” said Miranda urgently.

“Sure you do. And what’s best for me is continuing as support staff to the superhero,” said Charley, glaring at her sister.

Miranda burst into fits of laughter so unhinged that Astrid and Zavier looked at each other warily.

“A superhero? I’m not a superhero, Chuck,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

“You channel dead people, Miranda. You might as well be Professor fucking X.”

“You’ve got this so twisted,” Miranda said, shaking her head.