I stared at the images on my phone, each swipe of my finger revealing another page from Seamus Green’s red leather book. The morning light cut through my thin curtains, painting warm rectangles across my unmade bed where I sat cross-legged, hunched over the screen. Last night, exhaustion had claimed me before I could properly examine what I’d stolen from the dead man’s study—the addresses, the phone numbers, the cryptic notations in Seamus’s spidery handwriting. Now, with clear eyes and the quiet hum of morning traffic below my window, I began to see the patterns hidden in plain sight.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAZexsaloee
The police station’s fluorescent lights and skeptical faces had drained me. By the time I’d dragged myself to my apartment, I’d barely managed to kick off my shoes before collapsing. The images waited patiently in my phone’s gallery, secrets suspended in digital amber until morning.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWR670MHiqi
“Anything interesting?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVFzr7FxfGo
I didn’t jump when Mister B. materialized by the window. Today he wore his tweed jacket with the leather elbow patches, crisp and proper despite being nothing more than ectoplasmic memory.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnHYrk4D25Q
“Several things,” I replied, zooming in on a particular entry, feeling the familiar disconnect between speaking aloud to empty air and knowing I wasn’t truly alone. “Seamus kept detailed notes beside some contacts—frequency of meetings, topics discussed.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAZRkJqlNEv
I swiped to the next image, focusing on the notations beside one name that had caught my attention: Markus, followed by an address in the West Village and a phone number with a 212 area code. Beside it, in the same careful hand: Weekly sessions since 2003. Reiki healing. Energy work. Discussions of mortality and transition.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLBteBhxtTZ
“Twenty-two years,” I murmured, calculating quickly. “Seamus had been seeing this Markus for twenty-two years.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR8HuUT5lUw
“That’s a significant relationship,” Mister B. observed, moving closer, his spectral form causing a momentary drop in temperature near my shoulder. “Far beyond casual consultation.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMn4HZJa9SL
“Look at this.” I zoomed in further, highlighting a notation in the margin: Increased sessions to 3x weekly after A’s visit in November. Concerning energy patterns.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAvZUxuwCPF
“‘A’ must be Aurelia,” I said, feeling pieces connecting like a circuit completing, that small jolt of recognition I’d come to trust. “Something changed after her November visit.”
“And Seamus died in December,” Mister B. noted, his voice carrying that particular blend of academic interest and grim satisfaction that characterized most of his observations. Death was somehow his thing, so to speak.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡziKgHe68n4
I continued examining the photos, discovering several other contacts labeled with notations about “energy work” and “alternative healing.” A crystal therapist in SoHo. An acupuncturist on the Upper East Side. A woman identified only as “V.S.” who offered “vibrational alignment.” Seamus Green, despite his traditional business background, his old money and older ways, had apparently embraced spiritual and energetic practices extensively in his later years.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ42ImFVeyPp
“He was seeking something,” 50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZMC0qidqqh
Grandpa’s voice joined our conversation, gentle and worn smooth like river stones. He materialized in the corner of my bedroom, his form less distinct than Mister B.’s—more impression than apparition, a watercolor wash of presence rather than a detailed portrait.
“At that age, with that much wealth,” Grandpa continued, “what do you seek but peace and understanding?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2MKse4uSlo
“Or perhaps extension,” Auntie countered practically. Unlike the others, she announced her arrival with a scent—rose water—before her form cohered near my dresser. “Long life. Preservation.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsteZAZDLAs
The spirits rarely appeared all at once, and their unusual convergence sent a tremor of unease through me. Something important was unfolding, something that drew them like moths to a flame.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5u9hTPI3W
I paused on the final image—a page from the very back of the book, where Seamus had written what appeared to be a personal note: M. says the veil thins. Preparations necessary. Trust only those who can see beyond.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvepvM6hsGI
“He knew,” Ma said softly, her presence the warmest of my guides, settling beside me on the bed without depressing the mattress. “That you would need this information, babygirl. That someone with the sight would come looking.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQtMWePu1af
I set the phone down, the pieces shifting and settling into a new configuration. Seamus’s posthumous message in my dream, the hidden book with its catalog of spiritual practitioners, the methodical documentation of his explorations beyond conventional understanding—he had been laying breadcrumbs, creating a trail that only someone with psychic sensitivity would recognize and follow.
I thought about what I’d seen in the security footage from the townhouse—Aurelia Green’s midnight ritual, the chalk markings on her father’s floor, the offerings of blood. I thought about the fear in Jason’s eyes when he spoke of his aunt’s transformation after his grandfather’s death. The pieces weren’t just connecting; they were revealing an architecture of intent, a scaffold of purpose beneath random events.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYAIIBNBmxD
“It’s time to call Markus,” I said, reaching for my phone again. “He’s the missing piece.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbD0W9mRHxD
My spirits said nothing, but I felt their collective attention sharpening around me, a pressure change like the air before a storm. I dialed the number from the book, heart beating slightly faster as the connection went through.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbiZrC7HjLU
One ring. Two. Three.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYw3x4yYDvV
Then a click, and a man’s voice answered—calm, measured, with the slightest hint of a German accent.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfUrU4Cfgbj
“Hello?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc4YnHdrg6z
My throat constricted briefly. In that single word, I heard an awareness, an alertness that suggested this wasn’t just an ordinary man answering an unexpected call. I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Seamus’s request, of Jason’s trust, of my spirits’ expectation.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgdtciHL3rA
“My name is Rahel Vega. I’m calling about Seamus Green.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzbD6IdBrHm
“Seamus Green,” Markus repeated, his voice shifting from polite inquiry to something cooler, more calculated. The change reminded me of locks clicking into place, of doors being sealed against intruders. I paced toward my kitchen, phone pressed against my ear, aware of Mister B. tracking my movements with spectral eyes. The floorboards creaked beneath my bare feet, an old building speaking its own language of settled beams and warped wood.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ93pkzboBI
“May I ask how you obtained this number?” Markus continued, each word precisely measured.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBWsmVQDkAz
“From Seamus’s personal directory,” I replied honestly, seeing no benefit in deception. “I’m investigating the circumstances of his death.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGWQLhhNVN9
A pause bloomed between us, weighted with consideration. I could almost feel him reshuffling his thoughts, recalculating his position.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡY3h3VDbWn8
“Are you with the police?” The question held no fear, merely tactical assessment.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVoxQr8r8RV
“No,” I said, reaching for the kettle, needing something to occupy my free hand. “I’m a spiritual consultant working with Jason Green, Seamus’s grandson.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDS1yfGjRRo
Another pause stretched between us, longer this time. When Markus spoke again, his voice had lowered, intimate as a confession.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkLnANalxSu
“You have psychic abilities.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBvr2JJLn6K
Not a question. A statement of recognition that sent a thin tremor down my spine. The kettle clattered against the stovetop as I set it down.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2sn8n2D8pO
“Yes,” I confirmed, flicking on the burner.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq4ksMcKXqR
“Ah.” The single syllable carried profound understanding. “I’ve been waiting for someone to call. Though I expected it sooner.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuhAHBnxxRi
I moved to my window, drawing the curtain back to observe the morning street scene below—a dog walker with four mismatched canines, an elderly man in a baseball cap retrieving his newspaper, a delivery truck double-parked with hazards blinking. Normal life continuing while I stood half-in and half-out of the world most people occupied.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEiEgTQTcuN
“Then you believe there was something suspicious about Seamus’s death.” I kept my voice steady, though my pulse had quickened.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg4nfG0mxEL
“I know there was,” Markus replied firmly. “Seamus Green did not die of natural causes, regardless of what the medical examiner concluded.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQB5ycDvEhO
A thrill of validation ran through me, a current of certainty that pushed away doubts I hadn’t fully acknowledged were there.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfFAX6tbS6P
“That’s what Jason believes. What I’ve come to suspect as well.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGlkbzBuDQF
“The boy is more perceptive than his family gives him credit for,” Markus said. “Despite his… struggles.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfwQtSKp6hj
The delicate pause around “struggles” told me Markus knew about Jason’s addiction issues. I wondered how much Seamus had shared with this man during their two decades of connection.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJJ34IOAIFp
“I’ve seen footage,” I said carefully, watching a young couple push a stroller past my building. “Security recordings from Seamus’s home. His daughter Aurelia was performing some kind of ritual in the living room, just days before his death.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6hQ36AGng4
Markus’s sharp intake of breath was audible through the phone, a hiss of recognition that confirmed my suspicions weren’t merely fantasy.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb9TT0LtJKe
“You have evidence?” The calm facade cracked slightly, revealing urgency beneath.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ44ewO1PQ8
“Visual only, no audio. But it’s unmistakably ritual work—chalk markings, candles, blood offerings.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVAaRHtXpHg
“I warned him,” Markus said, his voice tight with controlled emotion. “I sensed the darkness gathering around that house months ago. Around Aurelia specifically.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwENuOENKQL
The kettle began to whistle, a thin scream that pulled me back to the stove. I removed it from the heat, the spirits drifting in my periphery like smoke, silent witnesses to this unfolding revelation.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzaNV4DfqTd
“What can you tell me about your relationship with Seamus?” I asked, moving through the familiar ritual of tea preparation, measuring loose leaves into my infuser, needing the normalcy of routine to ground myself.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXkhziII9qr
“Twenty-two years,” Markus replied. “It began as simple Reiki sessions for his arthritis. But we discovered his remarkable responsiveness to energy work.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTMPQbrPyDt
“Responsiveness?” I echoed, pouring steaming water over the infuser, watching the water darken as it drew flavor and color from the leaves.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfPLiEWVujv
“Seamus had an unusual energetic system—a rare configuration I’ve encountered perhaps three times in thirty years of practice. His channels were exceptionally open, his meridians unusually accessible.”
I moved to my small kitchen table, cradling the warm mug between my palms. “And this helped him?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcfDMN6NU5B
“More than helped,” Markus said with quiet pride. “It extended his life significantly. The treatments I provided—which admittedly grew more intensive and what some might call ‘excessive’ in later years—kept his systems functioning well beyond their natural capacity.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeLQmfkAZjs
I nearly spilled my tea, the implications rippling outward. “You’re saying Seamus should have died years ago?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdwQEZB8KfE
“By conventional medical expectations, yes. His physical body should have failed in his early eighties. Instead, he reached one hundred and two with a functioning mind and reasonable mobility.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8qJTOF9hxF
I absorbed this information, watching as steam curled from my cup in lazy spirals. “Then something changed.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPMmghSAdGL
“Aurelia changed,” Markus corrected, the words sharp-edged and precise. “About four years ago, she began studying certain… traditions. Practices that concerned me deeply.”
“Black magic,” I said plainly, seeing no reason to dance around it.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4ikVo9t62U
“Yes.” Markus’s confirmation was immediate. “Though she disguised it as scholarly interest at first. Anthropological curiosity. But I could feel the shift in her energy whenever she visited Seamus after our sessions.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWqwrwLbUtL
“And in November?” I prompted, remembering the notation in Seamus’s book, the point where everything seemed to accelerate.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9e3l64nzfQ
“She returned from a trip to São Paulo. Whatever she encountered there—whoever she met—it catalyzed something dark in her. The energy around her became… predatory. Consuming.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFkUNjOC6k5
I sipped my tea, organizing my thoughts, aware of my spirits gathering closer, their presence cooler against my skin as if they were absorbing heat from the room. 50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5sKeDWgfE7
“You increased your sessions with Seamus after that.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFNHip3wrVp
“Three times weekly. I was trying to counteract whatever she was doing.” Markus’s frustration was evident, a controlled burn beneath his measured words. “But energy work is ultimately supportive, not combative. I could strengthen his field, but not prevent direct attacks.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAEu7d4HbPL
I set my mug down, tea half-finished. “And you believe that’s what happened? A direct attack?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzA1NGfJ2kw
“I know it,” Markus said firmly. “Three days before his death, I arrived for our regular session to find Seamus disoriented, his energy field shattered in a pattern I’ve only seen once before—in a case of deliberate energetic interference.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMXRRul28sX
“The ritual I saw on the footage,” I murmured, the pieces aligning with terrible clarity.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqXTbDW6kDA
“Most likely,” Markus agreed. “I attempted emergency energy work, tried to restore his field’s integrity, but the damage was… extensive.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgx5glwYDgg
I pushed my tea aside, the implications settling heavily. Aurelia Green hadn’t just helped her father along with a pillow over his face or an extra dose of medication—she had conducted an energetic assault, a spiritual murder that would leave no trace a conventional medical examiner could identify.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyB9kZ8H5ev
“Why didn’t you report your suspicions?” The question escaped before I could consider its naivety.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJZ1fEPX4aP
A bitter laugh crackled through the phone. “To whom, Ms. Vega? The NYPD’s Department of Spiritual Crimes? Without physical evidence, there was nothing to pursue legally.”
I recognized the futility he described—the same void of official recourse I’d encountered in my own practice when clients suffered harm that existed beyond the materialistic boundaries of law.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6GBrHkRumS
“But you kept notes? Records of your observations?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡITNXYK9SG4
“Extensive ones,” Markus confirmed. “Documentation of every session, energy readings, photographs of his aura when possible. I knew someday someone would need this information.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2vPrq8jaK9
I felt a surge of hope, thin but present. Documentation wouldn’t be admissible in court, but it might provide critical insights for our investigation—patterns that only someone with training would recognize, anomalies that would confirm intentional interference.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ8LizX39cw
“We need to meet,” I said decisively. “Compare what we know. Combine our perspectives.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4bKDhsB4C7
“I agree,” Markus replied without hesitation. “There’s much more I couldn’t say over the phone. Details that might help you understand what truly happened to Seamus—and what Aurelia might be planning next.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGnfBFVe3z6
A chill crawled up my spine, settling between my shoulder blades. “Planning next?”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHCQWgKeler
“Power like that—once tasted—is rarely abandoned,” Markus said grimly. “Especially when it’s yielded such… profitable results.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNit2xfXP3q
We arranged to meet at a small café in the West Village that afternoon—neutral ground, public yet private enough for our unusual conversation. I checked the time: just past ten. Four hours to prepare.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuVYetf2mTI
“One more thing, Ms. Vega,” Markus said before ending the call. “Come prepared for a reading. Bring your cards.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTtXOnT4epP
“My tarot deck?” I clarified, surprised by the request.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1tWrVGRUEK
“Yes. I suspect our combined insights might reveal patterns neither of us could see alone.” He paused. “Seamus always said that when the conventional fails, the unconventional becomes essential.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRlXnOTrbCH
As the call ended, I sat quietly at my kitchen table, the apartment suddenly too still, as if the world were holding its breath. Markus had confirmed my suspicions while adding crucial context—Seamus’s unusual energetic sensitivity, Aurelia’s evolution from curious scholar to practitioner of dark arts, the deliberate targeting of a man already defying natural lifespans through alternative healing.
“This changes things,” Mister B. observed from his position by the window, his form more substantial now, as if the revelations had somehow strengthened his manifestation.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMZNUO6vfU1
“How so?” I asked, gathering my empty mug and carrying it to the sink.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlEds4tN1ih
“If Seamus was being artificially sustained through Reiki, then proving murder becomes even more complicated,” he explained, academic even in crisis. “Legally speaking, one could argue that the natural end of his life simply caught up with him when the treatments couldn’t compensate any longer.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5ndtavL1dE
“But we know differently,” I countered, rinsing the mug with more force than necessary.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYEv0nVWdgk
“We do,” Grandpa’s gentle voice agreed. “And knowledge brings responsibility.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbRCaSju7Dn
“The question now,” Auntie interjected practically, her spectral form perched on the edge of my counter, “is what exactly we do with this information. Justice is one thing. Proof is another entirely.”50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡROxiSgT4xT
I picked up my phone again, sending a brief text to Jason: Made contact with Markus. Meeting him this afternoon. Confirmed suspicions about your grandfather’s death. Call you after.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNNxz8ZJlMV
Then I moved to my altar space, kneeling before it to center myself. The investigation had just shifted into territory few would understand or accept—the intersection of energy work, dark ritual, and deliberate spiritual interference. Conventional justice might prove impossible. But I was beginning to suspect that conventional justice wasn’t what Seamus Green was seeking from beyond the grave.50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkJfYFpz8cX
He wanted something else entirely—something only someone with my particular gifts could provide.
50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5MMuC6WYAM
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