Cumin: Book 1

Karma

I woke up to amber, coal-fired dim, because bladders don't give a damn about sleep.

Or romance, for that matter, as I had to crawl my way out of the combined force of Naru's arms and the lusciously squishy couch.

Lucky for me, Naru slept on, each of his inhalations clicking before whooshing out in sleeping sighs. I smiled at that. I'd never met anyone who clicked in their sleep.

Downside to a mansion is that you can't just covertly turn on a single light to shuffle to the toilet. They have such freaking high ceilings that the lights have to cover a huge area, and thus have roughly the same amount of power as a search light. I probably wouldn't have woken up anyone safe and closed up in their cozy guest rooms, but Naru had no closed doors to block out the blazing mini-suns (at least mini-suns to my bleary eyed, half asleep state).

Thus, I dug out one of the many easily found flashlights from the bag underneath the black monitors. What was a ghost hunter without flashlights?

I was too sleepy to care how creepy a dark house was by flashlight. The fact that a stinking hot man that I'd loved for the good part of nearly two years also played into that. Thus, I went to the nearest bathroom—the one at the top of the stairs and to your immediate right, did my business, and headed on my way.

A baby started to cry.

That woke me up.

"Aw, come on," I moaned. "This can't be a dream, I can't pee in my dreams, what if I pee in real life?" And Naru with me on the couch—now that was a horrifying thought.

The cry rose to a mind-numbing, pleading pitch and had once more taken up the quality of an infant small enough to need its whole body to cry.

I twisted the flashlight behind me to the utility closet where it came from. The door was ajar, as the framing had been damaged under Lin and Naru's combined force. The rock of my heart fluttering at the base of my throat, as I waited for someone else to hear the crying and join me. I even had what I would say: oh dear, looks like that exorcism didn't work, what do we do now?

But no one came out. I turned the flashlight towards the stairs, where it bleached out the tiny amber glow from the parlor. I should go back—back to Naru's arms, where it was safe and warm and let him deal with this in the morning.

The crying wavered, croaked like a cricket. I remembered the little hands on my chest, and how the tiny body had started to calm in my arms.

A great pressure bore down on me, and I looked up to blink away tears. Poor baby. Poor, pathetic, injured baby.

I turned around and made my way to the utility closet. When my flashlight flickered, then died completely, I felt my way to the door and pushed it open with my fingertips. Inside I could hear the baby wailing for release.

The doorknob pressed cold against my hand, and I hesitated.

"Babies aren't meant to be ghosts," I said to the door. "You hold no ill will. You aren't capable of it. You can't even comprehend harming others. This was never your fault. You were born to be loved, and held, and comforted, not left to cry in a closet."

The baby's crying faltered a bit, as though it could hear me. Then it started up in a higher pitch, frantic, knowing I was there.

Help.

I opened the door.

Like before, I could see its small, deformed body despite the darkness. This time no one shoved it into my arms, but rather it squirmed and kicked in the sink with its burnt, raw, bloody limbs. I could see its blood smearing against the porcelain, somehow, even though at first I thought it was the only thing I could see.