Free Autumn Thorns by Yasmine Galenorn Page B

quickly. Soon, I was lugging bag after bag of clothing out to the car. I also stripped the bed, washed all the sheets, and packed up the linens. I kept the handmade quilts that were family heirlooms, and some of the tea towels, but as much as I had loved my grandmother, we had vastly different style and color choices, so I decided just to start fresh and give most everything away. All through clearing out thebedroom and bath, I kept an eye out for her journal but only came across notepads with to-do lists written on them. Careful ticks showed completed tasks to the point of making me feel like a slacker.
    After I was done, I took a break for lunch. I made myself an omelet and sat at the table, staring at the box with the key in it, and wondering where Lila’s journal was. Maybe she kept it in the desk in the living room? Grandpa Duvall’s den had been off-limits to everybody, so I doubted that I’d find it there, but I’d have to go through the room anyway. Another day for that, though.
    As I nibbled on a slice of toast, my mind a million miles away, I was startled by the sound of a door closing. It hadn’t been the front door, but I had heard it loud and clear. I quietly set down the bread. If somebody was in the house, I didn’t want them to know I knew.
    Slowly, I eased my way out of my chair, remaining by the table as I listened for any further sound.
Nothing.
The cats weren’t door-closers, though I knew of a few who could—and did—push doors shut. No, this had come from the direction of Lila’s bedroom. My heart beating rapidly, I cautiously turned toward the hall leading to the master suite. I had barely gotten to the edge of the kitchen when a door on one of the bottom cupboards next to me opened, slowly but deliberately.
    â€œWell, then, you want me to know you’re here.” I paused. I could see spirits fairly easily, but they had to want to be seen or conditions had to be right. I held out my hand, palm facing the cupboard door. Sure enough, the energy was strong enough to make my skin tingle.
    I closed my eyes, reaching out. Making contact with spirits could be dangerous, but Lila had taught me early on how to protect myself from being jumped, so I wasn’t worried about possession—I always kept my shields up. But once contact was made, it could be difficult to push them out, if need be. It was almost like in the vampire novels where, once you invited the vampire in, it was hard to stop them until you rescinded the invitation.
    *   *   *
    T here are six categories of the dead, Kerris.” Grandma Lila had taken me out to the graveyard one lovely spring afternoon. We were sitting on a bench. I was holding a candy bar. “You need to remember this, because it can mean the difference between putting yourself in danger and keeping yourself protected. The dead can be harmless, or harmful. Do you understand?”
    I was seven years old, but I already knew that one day I’d take my grandmother’s place. I had her gift, and even though I didn’t say much about it, inside I was proud of the fact that I’d grow up to be a spirit shaman. It felt like continuity—and ever since my mother had vanished, the fear had been there that, at any day, at any time, I could lose everything important to me.
    I nodded. “Yes, I’ll remember. What are they?”
    My grandmother smiled. “The first type, the
Resting
, we don’t have to worry about. They have passed into the Veil, though they haven’t passed through the other side yet. But after they go through the Veil, they aren’t our responsibility, unless they try to come back. And the Resting are content with knowing they’re moving on to the next cycle in their existence.”
    â€œPenelope helps them, then, right?” I squinted, staring at the graves. Old bones and bodies filled the ground here, but they weren’t what we had to worry