Free Sparks by Laura Bickle

touch with Bernie. And Jules... Anya was certain that talking with the dead violated Jules's ethics. No use provoking him.
    Katie shrugged. "Well... we could always try to summon him."
    "How do we do that?"
    "We could hold a seance. But we'd have to rustle up at least four people."
    Anya made a face. She could probably rope Brian into it, but Max would blab to Jules.
    "Or we could run down to the toy store and pick up a Ouija board. But I don't advise it."
    "Why not?" Anya was genuinely curious. DAGR had gone on a number of runs in which a Ouija board had allowed a ghost or demon into a house, but she didn't know what made that method better or worse than any other.
    Katie picked up a cookie. "A spirit board is neither good nor bad, in and of itself. It's just a tool. But modern spirit boards have become too intertwined with the idea of a game. No one takes them seriously, and rarely do people take the necessary precautions. Bad stuff gets in, and most people lack the ability to test the veracity of the spirits they've summoned."
    "There's no off switch?"
    "They've not been trained to break the connection or protect themselves. No magic circle's drawn, no protective elements are invoked. It's the metaphysical equivalent of allowing a hitchhiker to ride in your car, and then asking him nicely to get out when you're done driving."
    Anya stifled a shudder. She'd had a hitchhiker before, a demon. Picked it up like a bad cold from a teenager who had been playing with a Ouija board. She remembered what it was like, feeling the demon working beneath her skin, controlling her hands and her voice. She would never, ever allow that to happen again.
    "So... where is Bernie now? Is there any way to know?" Anya asked, changing the subject. Her curiosity had been piqued. Had Bernie been sucked into the afterlife? Had he gone to the same place Charon had taken the little girl?
    "I don't know where he is." Katie dusted crumbs off her apron. "I don't think anyone really has the authoritative answer on what happens after we die. But we can still try to summon his ass and see if he responds."
    She rummaged through her cabinets for a glass water goblet, a container of salt, a dish towel, and a notepad. Katie poured lemon oil on the dish towel and polished the scarred kitchen table to a high, slick shine.
    "I'll need to dust off your aura, too," she said.
    Anya nodded. "What do you need for me to do?"
    "Just stand over here beside the table and think pure thoughts."
    Anya screwed up her forehead. "I spent half the day at the morgue and the other half at a haunted train station covered in shit. I don't know any pure thoughts."
    "Then think happy thoughts. Think about sunshine. Puppies. Or getting laid. Just not all at the same time, or you'll confuse the Goddess."
    Katie lit a bundle of sage and fanned the smoke over Anya's body, head to toe. She paused when she fanned the smoke over Anya's heart.
    "Interesting," she murmured.
    Anya's nose twitched. Sage always made her sneeze. "What?"
    Katie squinted. She didn't squint exactly at her, but through her. "Your aura," she said. "It's changed color."
    "What do you mean?" Anya asked. Katie had graciously scrubbed Anya's aura on many occasions, but hadn't noted any abnormalities in it, except when she was hosting a demon. Alarm prickled over her. Perhaps the demon had left something behind....
    Katie shook her head, sending blond wisps of hair over her shoulders. "I don't think it's anything bad. Your aura usually appears to me to be amber, like fire. It just feels darker, blacker. Solid. Like obsidian."
    "How is that not bad?"
    "Sometimes, when black reaches into an aura, it's a sign of transformation. It's not necessarily negative, so just try to suspend judgment about it."
    Anya's mouth turned down, dubious.
    Katie fanned the smudge stick over herself and stuck it in the soap dish on the edge of the sink. A wisp of smoke reached upward, tickling the kitchen witch's bloomers.
    Attracted by the smell of