Free Ghouls Just Haunt to Have Fun by Victoria Laurie Page B

energy is really light—I sort of raise my vibrations so that I can communicate with other spirits. And this is what is so attractive to negative spirits like this hijacker. I’m fairly easy to take over because my energy is vibrating so fast. But this little crystal slows those vibrations way down, and it’s much, much harder for someone to enter my auric field when that happens.”
    Steven moved over to his bag and began lifting out tubes and a small bottle of antiseptic. “Are you sure it will work?” he asked, and I could tell he was still unnerved by what had happened to me.
    “Yes,” I said softly, pulling out a chair and motioning for him to sit down. When he did I took the antiseptic from his hands and began to gently clean around the gash for him. Once I’d wiped up the blood, the cut on his forehead didn’t look nearly as serious as I’d thought.
    “Let me see,” he said, and swiveled toward the mirror. Poking around the edges of the wound he said, “This is not too bad.”
    “I should get you some ice,” I offered, and at that moment there was a knock on our door and the security guard stepped back in, along with another gentleman who looked like he’d had a rough day.
    “I got you a Twix,” the guard said, holding out the candy bar to me. “And this is Murray Knollenberg, the general manager of the Duke.”
    “I understand you were injured this evening, Dr. Sable?” said Knollenberg. “I’m terribly sorry,” he added when Steven turned to face him and the GM got a good look at the gash on his forehead. “Can I provide you with transportation to the hospital?”
    Steven shook his head. “I’m fine,” he insisted, grabbing his medical bag and moving toward the bathroom. “I’ll just need a few minutes in front of the mirror with some light. If you’ll excuse me,” he said.
    “Do you want some help?” I offered.
    “No,” said Steven, giving me a small grin. “You stay with these men and tell them what happened.” And with that he closed himself inside the bathroom.
    “This is all very distressing,” said Knollenberg. “I’ve never had so many disturbing incidents happen at the Duke in one day.”
    “Well, they say bad things come in threes,” I said, then realized I’d said the wrong thing when Knollenberg’s face visibly paled. “But that’s just an old wives’ tale, I’m sure,” I added, clearing my throat and ripping off the wrapper of the Twix to take a bite.
    “Mr. Knollenberg and I have secured this floor,” said the security guard. “There are very few guests here due to all the construction we’ve got going on, and whoever was fighting out in the hallway has apparently gone.”
    “Have you asked any of the other guests if they heard anything?” I asked.
    Knollenberg turned to the guard. “That’s right, Gary. You were going to do that next.”
    “I’m on it,” he said, and headed out the door.
    “Again, I’m very sorry that your evening has been so disrupted,” said the GM while wringing his hands. I really felt for the guy.
    “Mr. Knollenberg?” I asked, thinking of something.
    “Yes?”
    “I know the Duke is haunted,” I said, thinking back on the notes Gopher had sent to Gilley. “But in the literature I read, all of the spirits that have been identified did not include anyone from Portugal, correct?”
    Knollenberg blinked at me for several moments, his eyes roving from the Twix bar in my hand up to my face, as if waiting for me to deliver the punch line. Finally he said, “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand your question, miss.”
    I sat down on the bed again and shrugged out of the comforter now that I wasn’t shivering anymore. “There are several ghosts that haunt the Duke, correct?” I asked, again referring to the literature.
    Knollenberg nodded, and his face flushed. “According to legend, yes,” he conceded. “Sir Phineas is said to be one. His daughter, Sara, is said to be another, along with Mickey O’Reilly—he