Sarah Wynde - A Gift of Ghosts

A kira Malone believes in the scientific method, evolution, and Einsteins theory of relativity. And ghosts. All the logic and reason in the world cant protect her from the truthshe can see and communicate with spirits.

But Akira is sure that her ability is just a genetic quirk and the ghosts she encounters simply leftover electromagnetic energy. Dangerous electromagnetic energy.

Zane Latimer believes in telepathy, precognition, auras, and that playing Halo with your employees is an excellent management technique. He also thinks that maybe, just maybe, Akira can help his family get in touch with their lost loved ones.

But will Akira ever be able to face her fears and accept her gift? Or will Zanes relatives be trapped between life and death forever?

C opyright 2011 by Sarah Wynde

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

A Gift of Ghosts is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.

Published by Rozelle Press

independent publisher of unexpected fiction

rozellepress.com

Cover design by Karri Klawiter, artbykarri.com

Created with Vellum

A kira checked her reflection in the sun visor mirror. Shed bitten off all her lipstick during the drive from the airport. Hands shaking, just a little, she pulled out a pink gloss from her bag and carefully reapplied the color.

Youre awfully pretty, you know. The teenage boy leaning over the back of the seat made the words sound disparaging. Its not like you need that. Its probably going to give you cancer or something. Why do girls think its a good idea to spread chemicals all over their faces?

Ignoring him, she took a deep breath, and tucked the gloss back into the pocket of her bag, trying to summon up the courage to step out of the car. Shed walk into the building and breeze her way through her first job interview in years. She could do it. Of course she could. Shed be bright and smart and professional, and theyd love her and offer her a job, a good job, one that would let her actually work on her research.

And then Ill win the lottery, she said aloud, chewing on her lip, already forgetting about the gloss.

No one ever does, the boy said cynically.

Akira wasnt even sure how shed made it here. She wasnt the adventurous type. Life, it seemed to her, had enough challenges without searching out new ones. Shed mapped out her path long ago: a nice, quiet academic life in the Californian town where she grew up, some teaching, some research, staying in familiar territory, living on familiar ground.

But then one reckless paragraph about spirit energy in an article for the prestigious Energy Research Quarterly, and suddenly all her plans were in jeopardy. The committee hadnt denied her tenure yet, but her department head had made it clear that it was only a matter of time. With no hope of a university job, shed have to teach in a high school. Shed rather work in the fifth circle of hell.

The phone call from General Directions, Inc. had been out of the blue, but it felt like a potential lifesaver. The company wanted to meet with her. They were willing to fly her to FloridaFlorida, of all places!rent her a car, and put her up in a hotel room for a day or two, while they interviewed her for some undefined position. Despite the vagueness of the details, Akira hadnt hesitated.

But she was hesitating now. She sighed. She couldnt sit in the car forever. Might as well go in and get it over with. She took one last glance in the mirror and for the briefest of seconds her eyes met those of the boy in the back seat.

Hey, he said, pushing himself away from where hed been leaning. Hey, did you

Akira, though, was already out of the car, closing the door firmly behind her.

The brick buildings, lush grass, bright flowers, and flowing water in front of her were undeniably beautiful. But where was the research lab shed been expecting? Shed pictured a square box, five stories high, with mirrored windows, set in the middle of a giant parking lot. The kind of place that could exist anywhere, neither fitting in nor standing out. The kind of place where maybe she could exist without fitting in or standing out.

This looked more like an extremely exclusive private school.

She made her way up the cobblestone walkway to the front door of the nearest building. Although the friendly guard at the security booth way back up a winding road had told her that shed found her destination, she still felt unsure of herself until a discreet sign on the wall labeled General Directions, Inc. reassured her that at least she was in the right place.

General Directions. The name was so very generic.

At the front desk, she introduced herself, trying not to let her uncertainty show. Akira Malone, here for an interview.

Of course. The young blonde woman behind the desk responded with a warm smile, her eyes just a little curious. Mr. Latimers been expecting you. Ill show you right in.

* * *

Z ane Latimer was playing his twentieth game of solitaire on a borrowed computer in a usually unused office. He liked his own office just fine. It was comfortable and cluttered and a great place for thinking. At least for him. His sisters claimed it was full of distractions.

But his office was too revealing for an interview like this one. The stark walls, empty desk, two metal chairs, ugly carpeting, and old desktop computer in this room presented a much better image for his purposes. He wondered if this candidate would notice the lack of a phone. There really ought to be a big clunky corded phone with square buttons. He made a mental note to search one out before the next interview.

He glanced at his watch again. His agent at the tiny private airport had called half an hour ago. Ms. Malone had arrived without incident, but had requested a different car immediately upon seeing the black Taurus that was waiting for her. With no other car available, she had reluctantly accepted the keys from the clerk. The clerk had reported this with interest: she was paid well to note the arriving guests attitudes about their transportation, but this was the first time shed had anything to say. Zane accepted the information without comment, but had been waiting a little more impatiently than usual ever since.

Ms. Malone was the fourth person hed interviewed. As far as he was concerned, this job search was a wild goose chase. But his father had insisted, and when Max Latimer dug his heels in, people around him mostly sighed and acquiesced. Mostly.