Claire wanted to do nothing more than stretch out on the floor and sleep. Touching the barrier over her buried power took more strength than she expected—and protecting herself from the angry power radiating off the spirit cost more than it should have.

But because she had underestimated their opponent, they were trapped, with no supplies, no way to help Juliet. Worse, the closer they got to the time of the murder, the stronger the spirit would become.

She pushed to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself. Annie caught her arm, concern in the warm brown eyes. Thank God for her; Claire could not have done this alone.

“Daniel.” She eased out of Annie’s grip and turned to him. He held out his hands, concern for her in his dark blue eyes. He was becoming substantial again, most likely able to draw on the power that pulsed through the mansion. “Did Juliet have any journals, or diaries? Even letters might help.”

Annie moved to her side. “Why do you think it’s a woman?”

“Small clues, and the sense of rage coming from the spirit felt—feminine.”

“You mean spiteful and bitchy.”

Claire smiled. “Something like that, yes. I also got the sense that they knew each other, well enough for Juliet to allow her close enough. She was stabbed from behind, wasn’t she?”

Daniel closed his eyes, and Claire took his now solid hand, his fingers cool against her too hot skin. “Yes,” he whispered. “She turned her back, and the murdering coward trapped her, stabbing her through the heart.”

He freed his hand and strode out of the lounge, one Claire had chosen because she had a distinct feeling that it was a no women allowed sanctuary. She caught Annie’s hand and followed, running to keep up with his long stride.

Whoever held them would have control over areas they had been in, but their power didn’t stretch to what they did not know. Meredith had been quite clear about that in the grimoire, and Daniel had agreed, offering personal experience. Claire touched the grimoire, tucked in her jacket pocket; thankfully, she had kept it separate from the now destroyed black bag.

Daniel waited for them at the top of the main staircase, impatiently tapping the curved balustrade. “Juliet’s room is this way,” he said when they joined him, heading to the left. “Once we were engaged, she moved in, with her Aunt Beatrice as chaperone. I refused to allow her to stay one moment longer with her overbearing jackass of a father.”

Claire looked over at Annie. “Tell us more about him.”

“He considered them chess pieces, pawns to be sacrificed to his business. Before Juliet had even reached sixteen, she was aimed at some ancient banker, a man who had already buried two wives, and known for his perversions. All Juliet’s father cared was that marrying Juliet to him would mean more money in his bank account.”

“Disgusting,” Annie said. She moved to Daniel’s side, her long legs making it easy for her to keep up with him. “You said them. Did Juliet have sisters?”

“One. A younger sister. She had already been dead for years when I met Juliet. Emily died in childbirth.” He halted in front of the door at the end of the long corridor, and a smile tugged at him mouth. “Juliet swore she could feel Emily with her, watching over her.”

“Have you ever seen her?”

Daniel looked over at Claire, surprise on his face. “I have not—when I realized I could not reach Juliet, I did not spend much time here, except on the night of her murder. Every year, I try to stop it. Every year, I fail her.”

“If Emily is still here, we might have another ally.”

He shook his head. “Juliet told me that Emily was a frail, timid thing.”

“Love can be stronger than hate, Daniel. Especially the love of a sister. Were they close?”

“Yes.” For the first time, Claire saw hope ease some of the despair that was a constant in his eyes. “You believe she may still be here?”

“We can find out. Open the door, and we’ll start here.”

He led them inside.

The bedroom would have easily fit Claire’s living room and kitchen. It was enormous, but felt cozy, with overstuffed furniture that had been taken care of, like most of the furnishings she had seen in the mansion.

“Whoever looks after this place obviously cares about it.”

Daniel looked up from the worn armchair in front of the beautiful, carved marble fireplace. “He is the descendent of my butler. They have passed down the duty, from one generation to the next. I have always been humbled by the regard they still hold for me, despite the mark on my reputation.” He shook his head and moved to a small but exquisite secretary. “Juliet kept any important papers in here.”

“May I?” He nodded to Claire and moved away, touching pieces of Juliet’s life, his grief palpable.

Annie joined her, rubbing her arms. “It’s cold in here, and I don’t think it’s coming from Daniel. Not now that he’s solid.”

“You noticed that as well.” Annie continued to impress her. For someone so young, she had a maturity that gave her a strong sense of self. It would serve her well, if she decided to pursue her power. “If Emily is here, she’ll know we are on Juliet’s side and hopefully show herself.”

Claire sat in front of the secretary and started searching. The faint scent of lavender floated up from the lined drawers. She picked up a piece of flowery stationery and sniffed. Yes, it was coming from there, as well as from the delicately flowered lining. Claire recognized the pattern—a new one, which meant someone had replaced old lining, or added this to brighten, and protect the wood.

A cold chill struck her a moment before the voice.

“She would not approve you rummaging through her private papers.”

Annie’s gasp told Claire before she looked up just what she would see. Or rather, who she would see.

A small, delicately beautiful woman stood at the end of the bed, her arms crossed. Whatever age she may have carried in life had been erased in death, and she looked like a younger version of Juliet, with the same heart-shaped face and tumble of dark brown curls.

“Hello, Emily.” The ghost started, her mouth dropping open. “Daniel told us about you, and that Juliet believed you had been watching over her.”

“I was,” Emily whispered. She looked past them, and Claire followed her gaze to Daniel, who stared at Emily, his body stiff. “But I could do nothing to save her that night. I am so sorry, Daniel. I was trapped in this room by some kind of barrier, and I heard her scream, unable to do anything…”

She covered her face with both hands, quiet sobs shaking her. Daniel strode across the room and gathered her into his arms. Even solid, he didn’t slip through her like a living person would have. Emily buried her face against his shoulder and cried.

Annie watched them, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pain stark in her tear-bright eyes.

Claire touched Annie’s hand as she stood, and moved to the adjoining room, a small sitting room, with another carved fireplace, and a faded floral settee.

“Sit, Annie.” She took Annie’s hands, not surprised that she was so affected by Emily’s grief. “Don’t be embarrassed. Your own grief is still new, and crying can often be the only way to help ease the weight of it.”

“I—miss them so much.”

Claire pulled her in, rubbed her back as she shook. Her choked sobs finally broke free, and she held on to Claire. When the tears eased, she lifted her head—and choked again, in laughter this time. Claire turned around to find Daniel and Emily in the doorway.

Annie caught her breath, wiping her eyes. “Come in. I’m already far past embarrassment at this point.”

Emily glided to her, one hand hovering near her cheek. “Your loss is new. There is no reason to feel ashamed of your grief.”

“Thanks.”

“You are here for Juliet.”

“Yeah, but we’re trapped here by whoever killed her, without anything we need to help stop the murder.”

Emily stood, her hands clasped at her waist. “Daniel told me why you are here, and I believe I can assist. Everything that was in the mansion when Juliet and Daniel died remains, including a rather extensive collection of oddities that belonged to our aunt. She was a great believer in the spiritual.”

Claire stood, hope pushing up through the helpless anger. “By any chance, did she collect crystals?”

Emily smiled. “We could have opened a business with the number of crystals she hoarded. Come, I will show you.”

She glided out of the sitting room, and Claire reached for Annie’s hand.

“That’s good news, isn’t it?”

Claire nodded, following after the ghosts. “If she has the kind of collection I hope she has, we may have a chance, Annie.”

Annie felt tired after her outburst, but clearheaded, and ready to help. Emily led them through the huge mansion, to a narrow staircase leading up.

“The attic,” Emily said. “When Juliet inherited Aunt Lara’s collection, she kept it up here, rather than risk ridicule from her friends. Aunt Lara was a bit eccentric. I have never been there, so I cannot follow you, but Daniel knows where it is kept.”

He kissed Emily’s cheek, then led the way up the stairs. “I always thought of her collection as a box of useless rocks, but now,” he opened the door and waved at a kerosene lamp. A flame lit the wick, and the lamp floated over to his hand. “Now, I believe Juliet’s aunt may very well be our salvation.”

Flickering light danced off piles of old furniture, a dress dummy wearing the ugliest gown Annie had ever laid eyes on, and boxes. Hundreds of boxes.

“I hope you know where this box of rocks is, or we could be here for the next century.”

He smiled at Annie. “Most of my things were packed up after my death, and nothing has been touched since that time. Juliet had her own space up here, and she would have stored Lara’s collection with the rest of her belongings.” He moved around a shredded sofa, smiling down at it. “My dog, Cooper, managed to sneak into the house. He thoroughly enjoyed the front room sofa before he was discovered. I never heard the end of it.” His smile faded. “Juliet’s things are just back here, on the shelf.”

Annie let Claire go first, since she would know what she was looking for. When she joined them, Claire already had a deep wooden box open, and was sorting through what looked like hundreds of crystals.

“I only need one type,” Claire muttered. “I think I can break the cycle with it, and plenty of luck…ah.” She held up a huge hunk of shiny black rock, along with other, smaller rocks. “Daniel, do you know if Lara left any jewelry to Juliet?”

“It would be here as well. Lara had what Juliet called garish taste. Here.” He pulled a second box off the shelf and opened it. “If you are looking for a piece of jewelry with that stone, I know Lara had a ring. She wore it every time we met. I expected her to be buried with it, but she bequeathed it to Juliet. It should be in here.”

He pulled out a silver ring, with an oval of the same stone, surrounded by smaller black stones.

“Thank you.” Claire took it, slipping it on her right index finger. “This will work, as will all of these.”

“That’s all you need?” Annie frowned at the small pile of rocks. “Those look like something their gardener dug out of the flower beds.”

“This is black obsidian, Annie. More than I had in my shop. If we only find this one stone, it will be enough.” She looked up at Daniel. “I do need salt if you have it. As much salt as you can find.” Daniel nodded, set the kerosene lamp on the shelf, and headed for the door. “Daniel—don’t touch it. Just let us know where it is.”

He raised one eyebrow, but nodded before he disappeared. Literally.

Annie shook her head. “Salt, and black rocks. You had piles of supplies in that bag.”

“I know.” Claire leaned against the shelf and looked at Annie. “I wanted to cover every contingency. I will bring the box with us, but Lara knew her way around crystals. This ring was worn as a protective shield.” She touched the oval, so long it covered the joint of her finger. “I have a feeling Aunt Lara wasn’t as crazy as she seemed.”

Annie’s eyes widened as the answer struck her. “You think she saw ghosts.”

“A fact she would have kept to herself.” Claire closed the box in her hands and pushed off the shelf. “Let’s get downstairs. We need to create a control zone before sunset. I’m just hoping we have that long.”