I got up and picked the car up. "Can you do that again?" I asked, setting the car back on the top of the bookcase.

I knelt beside Chad and looked at him so he could see my mouth. "It just made that car fall off. We're all going to watch and see if it can do it again."

Silenced by the car's fall, Corban sat down next to Chad and put a hand on his shoulder—and we all watched the car turn slowly in place then fall off the back of the bookcase.

Then the bookcase fell facedown on the floor, right on top of Chad's plastic ocean fleet. I caught a glimpse of someone standing there, hands up, then nothing—and the sweet-salt smell of blood that I'd been smelling since I first entered the room faded away.

I stayed where I was while Corban checked the bookcase and the car for devices or strings or something. Finally, he looked back at Chad.

"Are you all right sleeping in here?"

"It's gone," I told them both, and Corban obliged me by signing it.

Chad nodded, and his hands flew. At the end of it, Corban grinned. "I guess that's true." He looked at me. "He told me the ghost hasn't killed him yet."

Corban hefted the bookcase upright again, and I looked down at the mess of books and game pieces.

I waited until Chad glanced my way. Then I pointed at his two-hole destroyer, plainly visible, surrounded by white, useless missile pegs. "So that's where you hid it, you little sneak."

He grinned. Not a full-fledged grin, but enough that I knew he'd be fine. Tough kid.

I left them to their manly nighttime rituals and went back to my room, all thoughts of going home tomorrow shelved. I wasn't going to abandon Chad to the ghost. I still had no idea how to get rid of it, but maybe I could help him live with it instead. He was already halfway there.

Corban knocked at my door a few minutes later, then cracked it open.

"I don't need to come in," he said. He stared at me grimly. "Tell me you didn't engineer that somehow. I checked for wires and magnets."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "I didn't engineer anything. Congratulations. Your house is haunted."

He frowned. "I'm pretty good at sniffing out lies."

"Good for you," I told him sincerely. "Now I'm tired, and I need to go to sleep."

He backed away from my doorway and started down the hall. But he hadn't gotten two steps before he turned back. "If it is a ghost, is Chad safe?"

I shrugged. Truthfully, the smell of blood bothered me. Ghosts, in my experience, tend to smell like themselves. Mrs. Hanna, who used to visit my shop sometimes—both when she was alive and after she died—smelled like her laundry soap, her favorite perfume, and the cats who shared her home with her. I didn't think the blood was a good sign.

Still, I gave him the truth as I knew it. "I've never been hurt by a ghost, and I only know of a few stories where someone was hurt, mostly only bruises. The Bell Witch supposedly killed a man named John Bell in Tennessee a couple of centuries ago—but it was probably something other than a ghost. And old John died of poison that the Witch was supposed to have put in his medicine, something more mundane hands could have done as well."

He stared at me, and I returned it.

"You date a werewolf," he said.

"That's right."

"And you say there are ghosts."

"And fae," I told him. "I work with one. After werewolves and fae, ghosts aren't such a leap now, are they?"

I shut my door and went to bed. After a few long minutes, he retreated to his bedroom.

I usually have a hard time sleeping in strange places, but it was very late (or really early), and I hadn't gotten a full night's sleep the night before either. I slept like a baby.

When I woke up the next morning there were two puncture marks, complete with a nifty purple bruise, on my neck. They were a lovely addition to the stitches in my chin. And my lamb necklace was gone.

I stared at the bite in the bathroom mirror and heard Samuel tell me that I shouldn't count upon Stefan still being my friend… and Stefan making it clear that he needed to feed in order to avoid detection. I knew there were consequences to being bitten, but I wasn't sure what they were.

Of course I'd met another vampire last night. For a moment I hoped it was him. That Stefan hadn't bitten me while I slept. Then I really thought about being bitten by James Blackwood, who scared the things that scared me. And I hoped it was Stefan.

Stefan would have needed an invitation into the house, though. Had I asked him in, and he'd somehow erased the memory? I hoped so. It seemed the lesser of two evils.

The bathroom door popped open—I'd just come in to brush my teeth, so it wasn't locked. Chad stared at my neck, then looked at me, eyes wide.

And I hoped it was Stefan, because I was going to stay here until I helped… somehow.

"No," I told Chad casually, "I wasn't lying about the vampires." I thought I wouldn't mention I'd received it last night if he didn't think of that himself. He didn't need to be worrying about vampires as well as ghosts.

"I shouldn't have told you about it," I said. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell your folks. The vampires like it better if no one knows they're around. And they take measures to ensure that is true."

He looked at me for a moment. Then he zipped an imaginary zipper across his lips, locked an invisible lock, and threw the key behind his back: some things are universal.

"Thank you." I put the cap on my toothbrush and packed up my bathroom kit. "Any more trouble last night?"

He shook his head and wiped a wrist across his forehead to wipe off imaginary sweat.

"Good. Do you get much activity from your ghost during the day?"

He shrugged, waited a moment, then nodded.

"So I'll talk to your mom and maybe go for a jog." No running in coyote form in the city, especially when my efforts to stay out of James Blackwood's way had already failed so spectacularly. But if I didn't run most days, I started to get cranky. "And then we can stake out your room for a while. Is there anywhere else the ghost visits?"

He nodded and mimed eating and cooking.

"Just the kitchen, or the dining room, too?"

He held up two fingers.

"Fine." I checked my watch. "Meet you here at eight sharp." I went back to my room, but I didn't catch Stefan's scent or anything out of the ordinary. Nor was there any sign of my necklace. Without it, I had no protection against vampires. Not that it had done me much good last night.

RUNNING IN THE CITY IS NOT MY FAVORITE THING. STILL, the sun was shining, making it unlikely that I'd run into a vampire for a while. I ran for about a half hour, then made a beeline for Amber's house.

Her car was gone from the driveway. She had things to do, she'd told me—a hair appointment, errands to run, and some shopping. I'd told her Chad and I would amuse ourselves on our own. Still, I'd expected her to wait for me to return. I wasn't sure I'd have left my ten-year-old son alone in a haunted house. However, he seemed unfazed when he met me at the bathroom door just as my watch read 8:00 A.M.

We explored the whole of the old house, starting with the bottom and working our way up. Not that it was necessary or important to explore, but I like old houses and I didn't have any better plan than waiting for the ghost to manifest. Come to think of it, I didn't have any better plan after it manifested.

Banishing ghosts was not something I'd ever tried, and everything I'd read about it over the years (not much) seemed to indicate that doing it wrong was worse than not doing it at all.

The cellar had been redone at some point, but behind a smallish old-fashioned door, there was a room with a dirt floor filled with old wooden milk crates and junk stored down there by some long-ago person.

Whatever its original purpose, it was now the perfect habitat for black widows.