12

I shot off the bed like a rocket was attached to my butt. “What?”

Peanut nodded. “There’s something here.”

“You need to give me more detail.” I snatched up a dagger from the nightstand. “Stat.”

“I saw it in the other room, near the kitchen island,” he said. “It doesn’t belong here.”

Oh my God, Zayne was out there.

What if the Harbinger had followed us? It was possible, especially if it had known we’d been in the Eastern Market. We hadn’t sensed it, so it could be here undetected. Racing forward, I threw open the door and stepped into the common room, which was lit by the moonlight and the soft glow of the under-cabinet kitchen lighting. My gaze darted over the kitchen island to the couch—Wait. Something was behind the island. It was blocking out a section of the light.

I took a step forward, my hand gripping the dagger as I squinted. The shape was that of a...person, but it wasn’t solid. Every other second, I saw the lights from the cabinet blinking through, as if the shape was flickering...

“You see him?” Peanut questioned from behind me. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

I saw him.

Slowly, I lowered my dagger.

“He was looking around and stuff, checking out Zayne,” Peanut continued, staying behind me as if I was his personal shield. I inched toward the couch. “I asked him what he was doing, but he wouldn’t answer. He ignored me like he can’t see me, but that’s totes not the case.”

I spared a glance down when I reached the couch, and relief punched me center in the chest. Zayne was there, asleep. One arm was thrust behind his head, the other resting across his stomach. His face was turned toward me, and a sliver of moonlight kissed his cheek.

I jerked my gaze back to the kitchen, blood pressure settling. Zayne was okay, but the shadowy shape was still in the kitchen, and it wasn’t the Harbinger or a demon that had somehow gotten through my internal radar system.

It was a ghost...or a spirit.

Which would’ve been good for Peanut to have mentioned when he’d woken me up, instead of giving me a minor heart attack.

Ghosts and spirits, for the most part, were benevolent, even the ones who could interact with their surroundings, like Peanut. There were a few who became stuck and unwilling to acknowledge that they were dead, and their anger festered, rotting their souls. They became wraiths. You had to watch out for them, as they could be dangerous and violent.

I guessed this ghost had seen me somewhere and followed me here. Wouldn’t be the first time a ghost had sensed me and then found me later.

“Make it leave,” whispered Peanut.