The Skinwalker Conspiracies - 02 Read Free Page A

backup. Silas had old-school guts if you asked me.
    Brother Silas possessed a weakness for grape soda and tonight, he was in luck. For the ridiculous price of one dollar and twenty-five cents, he could get a cold twelve-ounce can. I shook my head, knowing a two-liter bottle cost a buck at the grocery store.
    After taking my dollar and my quarter, the blasted machine shut down as the lights flickered and died.
    “Great!” I said thinking the ongoing lightning must have knocked out the power, but then I saw the motel sign on the road was still lit. “Damned piece of shit machine!”
    “I’m afraid the fault is mine, Mr. Ross. Electrical devices often do that in my presence. The irony is I find them utterly fascinating.”
    The pleasant, female voice sent a shiver up the old spine. Her accent and pronunciation sounded odd and out of place for modern day Alabama. That, and the fact she knew my name set off a few alarm bells.
    Turning around, I regarded the ghost behind the words. She was short woman, unnaturally pale with dark eyes and very black hair, pinned up in the back. Her pretty face I’d seen a number of times when I was getting acquainted with my family tree. Though I knew she died at twenty-four, by her looks I wouldn’t have guessed she was more than eighteen.
    Edgar’s child bride, Virginia Poe smiled back at me.
    “Hello, Mrs. Poe. What can I do for you this evening?” I asked.
    My words might have been polite, but I took nothing for granted. Her bright aura meant she was powerful. William Henry Leonard Poe, Edgar’s nearly-departed brother, stated she had an unusual gift of foresight. I believed him even though when he was telling me this, William was trying to possess and eventually kill me.
    Darren Porter, the deceased paranormal investigator and distant family member, whose donated cornea was in my right eye, had a visit from her after his death. Darren tried to possess me as well. I just hadn’t realized it at the time. Blood might run thicker than water, but if my adventures had taught me one thing it was to be wary around family members. The ones that lingered were usually up to no good.
    She clucked her tongue and acted bemused while saying, “Mrs. Poe makes me sound like an old lady. Please call me Virginia. By the way, well done with that restless spirit this evening.”
    “You were there?”
    “I watched from afar, Michael.”
    “It was more Silas in the end. I didn’t do anything special with the guy.” Mentally, I kicked myself for not sensing her, but I’m not exactly Spider-man or anything.
    “You underestimate yourself. You had the wherewithal to destroy the spirit, but opted to defer to the Preacher. Having power is one thing. Possessing the fortitude to not use it is another. Therein lies your success.”
    She reminded me of a seasoned spokesperson doing some “spin control.” I considered offering her the job while saying, “Please call me Mike, if we’re being informal. Michael makes me feel like I’m in trouble. That assumes that I’m not in trouble, which I guess depends on what you are about to say.”
    Virginia smiled and said, “Eddy once said that a Ferryman is never truly out of trouble. Obviously, when I was alive, I never found any facts to refute that claim.”
    She gestured and led me to a bench, I offered her the dry side, which wasn’t below one of the leaks, but Virginia took the other one and I watched the droplets pass through her body and splatter on the wood slats.
    “Speaking of my power, did Edgar ever learn how to control it without hurting himself?”
    “No, he never mastered that ability. He was most successful when he forced the energy out through his hands rather than releasing it from his chest. I’m not sure how one practices without being in mortal danger.”
    “I guess I’m back to the original question. What can I do for you, Virginia?”
    “I wanted to meet you, Mike. After Eddy died, the gift did not manifest itself in the line until