Nightfall (Grim Gate 1) - Page 4

A big believer in science, Mom insisted the spirits I saw were “all in my head” and I lost count of how many therapists she had me go see as a child. Eventually, I learned to keep my mouth shut, but there’s something about your mother thinking you’re crazy to ruin that mother-daughter relationship.

We got into a heated argument just last week about vampires. I insisted what I know to be true: vampirism is the result of a curse or some sort of dark magic, and she insisted magic isn’t real and we’ll get to the bottom of the disease that causes them to not be able to withstand sunlight, consume “typical” food, and be subjects to outbursts of dangerous rage. Being invited to dinner tonight is Mom’s way of offering an olive branch, and the fact that she got Harrison, my twin brother, to come lets me know she really does want to put this whole thing behind us.

“Do you want me to bring anything to dinner tonight? I cleaned out my pantry last week and found a bottle of blueberry wine I got last spring from that vineyard by Aunt Muriel’s place.”

“Ohh, that was good wine! Yes, bring that, but nothing else is necessary. When are you going to the barn?”

I look at the clock, suddenly panicked that I don’t even know what time it is. I let out a small sigh when I see that I didn’t sleep through my lesson. “In like an hour or so.”

“If you want to drop Hunter off here on your way, you can. Buster needs someone to play with. That dog is driving me crazy.”

“Probably because you let Dad name him Buster.”

Mom laughs. “It’s not the most original name, I’ll side with you there.”

“I’ll get dressed and will head over now.”

“I’ll see you soon then, honey. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I say and end the call. Sighing, I get up, raking my fingers through my messy hair as I walk into my bedroom. I change into boots and breaches, feed Romeo, and grab Hunter’s harness and leash.

My parents’ house is halfway between my little rented house and the barn, which is another point Mom has brought up a few times. I’d save on gas and time if I relented and moved back home. They live in an expensive neighborhood with gossipy neighbors who no doubt know me as the weird girl who talks about ghosts.

My phone buzzes with a text on my way over, but I don’t check it until I’m parked in the driveway. It’s from Mom, saying one of her patients is in the ER and she’s going to check on them. Hunter and I go inside through the backdoor, and I let him out into the fenced-in yard with my parents’ golden retriever, Buster. The dogs love each other and start wrestling and running around right away.

I go inside and head into the kitchen to find something to eat. A large cardboard box sits on the island counter, and I know it’s from my great-aunt Estelle as soon as I see the shipping label. Her tiny cursive handwriting is hard to read, and it always surprises me anyone was able to read it and get the box delivered to the right house.

I grab a knife from the block on the counter and slice open the packaging tape. There are messily wrapped presents inside the box, with bits of what looks like cat fur stuck to the tape. The presents for Harrison are always wrapped in green paper, and mine are in yellow. I set his aside and grab the smallest yellow package, ripping it open and revealing a deck of well-used tarot cards. In the middle of the cards, between the Three of Wands and The Lovers is a handwritten note. I have to hold it close to my face to be able to discern what Aunt Estelle wrote. I have no idea how anyone is able to write so small.

Anora-

Put these under your pillow on the first night of the full moon phase. Leave them there for seven days. Then they’ll be yours.

That’s a little strange and might be uncomfortable, but I plan to do it anyway. I set the cards on the counter and reach into the box, pulling out the next present, which is a pretty jewelry box. Like the cards, it’s old and worn. Stars and swirls are engraved in the dark wood, smoothed from years of being opened and closed. This just might be the most practical thing Aunt Estelle has ever given me. I open the box to see if the tarot cards will fit.

There’s a necklace inside, with a round silver pendant hanging off a delicate silver chain. A triple-moon is engraved into the middle of the pendant, and some sort of foreign language is etched around it. The symbol is familiar, though I have no idea why.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Grim Gate Paranormal
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