Josie's Spirit: In Between Tales, #5

Chapter One

Josie, a taunting voice whispered in my ear, thick and wicked and foul, as rotten fingers caressed my cheek. Josie, I’m coming for you.

I jerked awake, the wraith from my nightmare still vivid in my mind. My heart pounded frantically, and it was a moment before I realized the In-Bean-Tween café was empty. Panting hard, I struggled to get control of my racing heart. It was a dream—of course it was just a dream. A strained chuckle bubbled up from my belly. Who knew you could dream in Purgatory?

The sky beyond the coffee shop’s plate windows was a deep indigo, with just the barest hint of light in the east, promising a brilliant dawn. It was either really early, or really late, depending on how you looked at it. There was no going back to sleep for me after that nightmare. I hauled myself up from my makeshift bed on the overstuffed sofa and stepped over to the tall counter. I was sometimes spoiled by the powers-that-be who sent a gifted but invisible barista, but just before dawn seemed to be outside of their normal hours.

Sighing, I filled the carafe with water from the sink, and prepared a pot of coffee. The hissing, spitting, sputter of the machine filled the space, a comforting sound deeply connected to my Pacific Northwest roots. Coffee from national chains was fine for the masses, but java bean snobs like myself often found the best cups of joe in hole in the wall places like my beloved—albeit paranormal—café.

Scented steam rose in delicious, dancing tendrils from the mug I held in my hand as I settled back on the sofa. Opening my laptop I spent a few minutes just sipping from my cup and browsing nothing particularly important—courtesy of the mysterious Purgatory wireless of the In-Bean-Tween. It was certainly more reliable than anything I’d had while alive, anyway. I smirked. What was it they said about death and taxes?

This un-life of mine was a strange thing, and even after all this time I still wasn’t quite used to it. A small part of me tucked away deep inside suspected that all of this was some strange hallucination or delusion, and to my everlasting irritation, I had no way of proving it one way or another. What I had proven, at least to myself and my new friend and psychic, Veil Scott, was that hallucination or not, I was capable of some interesting tricks, not the least of which was telekinesis. A shiver ran down my spine at the memory of fighting for control of my soul from the evil clutches of the wraith that had somehow attached itself to me. It was only with the help of that newfound power—and an antique mirror—that I had defeated the vile spirit.

Thin beams of sunlight peeped over the building across the street at that moment, reflecting brilliantly off the polished chrome coffee machine. That a mirror had been my salvation was ironic, considering it was a mirror that had first revealed my supernatural passenger. A mirror that glinted and gleamed like the metal of the espresso maker right now, as if hinting it had a secret.

Shaking off the unpleasant sensation, I tried to recall how many days had passed since then. It had to have been at least a week, maybe more, each day pressing down more heavily on my spirit than the last. Bit by bit and inch by inch, slowly crushing the hope that I would be able to find a solution to this mystery of mine. I didn’t belong here and the powers that be wouldn’t allow me to remain much longer, I was certain. Time was running out, and I had to find a way to leave this in between of mine sooner rather than later.

Waiting until I was confident Veil would be up, I left