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over me. Mary laughed behind me, a light, musical note that stuck in my memory long after I shut the door behind me and returned to my own house.

CHAPTER 3

    I t occurred to me that Stacy—one of the few friends I had made in Seattle—might want to move in across the street, but then I shut that idea down real fast. For one thing, she already had a house that had been in her family for some time. For another, Stacy lived with her mother, who was disabled and unable to work, and she also helped provide for her little brother. The last thing she needed in her life were spooks and spirits. In fact, we had been supposed to get together for breakfast the next day, but when I got home from Mary’s house, there was a message on my answering machine from her begging off due to a cold.
    I let out a sigh. “Damn it.” I really liked Stacy. She was one of the few humans who knew I was a dragon. After the first “Oh, shit,” she had shrugged it off and that was that.
    I told Chai about what had happened at the house. “You don’t want to live over there, do you?” I leaned forward, a hopeful look plastered on my face.
    He stared at me for a moment. “Seriously? You areseriously asking me that?” With a snort, he added, “Thank you very much, but I’m not interested in fending off nasty spirits. Although I admit, living in this area, we’re bound to run into them.” He paused, then softly said, “You know who would be perfect for the house? Tonya.”
    Tonya Harris was a witch we had met while up in Port Townsend on a case. But she had a shop up there, and that was her home. “I doubt she’s going to move down here to set up business.” But the thought had lodged itself in the back of my mind and I found myself turning it over as I showered again before getting dressed for my lunch with Bette and Marlene.
    I glanced out the window. The sky was overcast and it looked like rain. Which meant something that wouldn’t plaster itself to my body if I got caught in a sudden downpour. I picked a simple V-neck sweater and a pair of black jeans, then slid a pale blue Windbreaker over the top. As I zipped it up and grabbed my purse, Chai cocked his head to one side.
    â€œHave fun. I might meander across the street and meet Mary myself.”
    I paused. He sounded like a man with a plan. Or should I say, a djinn with a plan? “Just don’t be rude. She’s perfectly nice and I don’t want her run out of here. Not that I think you could—she seems to be trapped. I think that whoever . . .
whatever . . .
that shadow was has her pinned in there.”
    Chai squinted, shading his eyes with his hands as he stared at the house across the street. “I’m not fond of those who imprison others.” The cryptic note in his voice made me leery, but I decided to leave well enough alone. Bette would be by in a few minutes to pick me up for the lunch with Marlene. I headed out on the porch to wait.
    As I stood there, staring quietly at Mary’s house, I found myself thinking about Chai’s idea. True, Tonya did have a home and a life in Port Townsend, but I could easily see her in this house, bringing it back to life with her witchy ways.
    At that moment, Bette pulled up in her 1967 Chevy Impala. She had tricked it out as a lowrider, and I half expected the cops to stop us every time I rode with her. I dashed down the steps as a flurry of raindrops let loose, spattering against the sidewalk. I darted between them, yanking open the passenger door as I slipped inside the car.
    Bette was chain-smoking, as usual, and she winked at me. “How’s it hanging, girl?”
    I fastened my seat belt—no sane person rode anywhere with Bette without a seat belt—and let out a long sigh. “Weird. That’s how it’s going.” As we headed toward the restaurant, I told her what had happened in Mary’s