“My sister comes back tomorrow.”
Chelsea ignored the statement and sipped her coffee. The table held scraps of donuts from the local bakery, but nothing cooked. They’d all been sleeping since they’ gotten back from killing the kindermord.
Keegan settled in the chair beside her, casting a look at Jackson, begging for help. Jack smiled, warm and broad, and seemingly devoid of any thoughts whatsoever.
Keegan opened his mouth, and then sighed.
Keegan snipped the lock on the gate and Chelsea and Jackson slipped through the playground, quick and silent. As Jackson broke the window near the back doors, Keegan started the countdown on his phone, the beeps cold and mechanical in the dark. They had to be in and out before the police.
Guilt settled in her stomach. She’d been so laser focused on helping Keegan that she’d forgotten to tell Jack exactly why she had to help. “Nothing serious, and honestly, we realized we made better friends pretty quickly. But he’s… he’s my first real friend I made as a hunter. And he asked for help and…”
“Oh, I get it. He’s your partner. Has nothing to do with the job ending.”
It took some time for the noise to register as a cellphone, let alone Chelsea’s own. The haze of many shots of tequila and amazing food blended with the dark hotel room. Only her dog, Bentley, warm at her feet, felt familiar. For a woman used to living out of her car, the single room just big enough for the bed seemed vast and empty.
So she wandered out to the kitchen.
“How is this any different from what our parents did?”
“I asked Andy the same thing. And he reminded me that your parents didn’t go as a team. We are. We also know that La Llorona is a phantasm, which your parents didn’t.”
Chelsea licked her lips. “And this isn’t a ghost?”
“Oh, who knows, really.” Andy sighed. “I’m not a biologist or cryptozoologist, I just read the stuff they put out. And the team in West Virginia studying teleporters right now says that teleporters and phantasms are two different things, and neither are ghosts.”
Well, hello, my little nun.
“Their father was a good man, but he liked women. La Llorona isn’t too fond of men like that. Their mother took exception to La Llorona killing him, cause wanderin’ eye or not, that was her man. La Llorona drowned her for it.”
Beer to her lips, an idea occurred to Chelsea. “If we can locate La Llorona, I think I can lure her in.”
This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick something from the index.*** The barest slit of a moon opened the sky above her as Chelsea pulled off the highway. The last week of practice had imprinted the route firmly in her mind. Which was […]
Words That Burn Like Fire 