Shadow Heir

“What do you need?” I asked. I racked my brain for any household tasks that needed tending but could think of none that were low-key enough for me to be allowed to do.

“Business is picking up,” she said. “And I’m getting lots of calls and e-mails. It’s hard for me to keep up with them. Charles tries, but he doesn’t always know enough to tell what’s a priority and what’s not.”

A secretary. She wanted me to be her secretary. I was so dumbfounded that I could make no response.

Uncomfortable with my silence, she added, “I figured with your experience, you’d be able to sort everything out and schedule it the right way.”

“Of course,” I said at last. “Whatever you need.”

My acceptance came more from a sense of obligation to this woman who’d done so much for me than any real desire for clerical work. Don’t get me wrong—I respected that trade immensely. Back in Tucson, I’d had an administrative assistant named Lara. Her witty personality was enough to make me miss her, but she’d also been amazing at sorting out the day-to-day details of my life and job. Yet, as awesome as I felt she was, my own pride was hurt at being downgraded to phone calls and e-mail. I was one of the most powerful shamans around. I could do things that most of my peers couldn’t ... but this was what I’d been reduced to.

“I know it’s not ideal,” she said gently. “But I think it’s something you’d be good at.”

I realized then that her offer came from more than just a need for someone to organize her affairs. Just like with her shamanic skills, I’d underestimated her. She was more observant than she let on. She knew perfectly well that I was bored and restless, so she was trying to do what she could to help me while still maintaining Roland’s rules.

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely meaning it. “I’ll do my best.”

A relieved grin spread over her face. “Good. Now that that’s settled, tell me how your appointment went.”

I smiled back at her obvious glee. I’d found a doctor in Huntsville and had a checkup this morning, continuing to get good marks. “You can see for yourself. There’s a folder on the counter with something you might like.” The doctor had sent me home with some ultrasound printouts of the twins. Candace hurried back inside, and moments later, I heard a delighted shriek. Laughing, I returned to my book.

When I started working for Candace the next day, I wondered how Lara had managed to do her job for years without going insane.

To be fair, it wasn’t like the phone was ringing off the hook. Candace had a separate line for business, and I only got a handful of calls that day. E-mail requests were about the same. Still, I was kind of amazed at the varied personalities I had to deal with. It was easy for me to tell the difference between a major haunting and a minor one, and the latter usually got scheduled out later. Some people didn’t take that too well. Equally frustrating were those who didn’t even know what they were asking for.

“It’s like an occasional knocking in the walls,” one man explained to me on the phone. “Usually when the air-conditioning kicks on.”

“You have central air?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t suppose ... it might actually be something going on with the air-conditioning?”

He considered this for a few moments. “Doesn’t seem likely. It’s never done it before. I’ve had this system for years.”

“Well,” I said patiently, “things wear out over time.”

“I dunno. I’m pretty sure it’s a ghost.”

I sighed. “Have you had any other signs? I mean, have you actually seen an apparition or felt any cold spots?”

“No,” he said after another long pause. “But I’ve sometimes felt warm spots.”

“Warm spots?” I asked. “That’s not usually an indicator of a spectral presence.”

“Well, they’re there. Even when the air-conditioning’s on, it still feels pretty hot in the house.”

I gritted my teeth. “If the air-conditioning’s broken, that would explain the noise and why it’s not cooling your house.”

The guy was obviously still skeptical. “I think it’s a ghost. Do you think she can come out and take a look?”

“Yeah, but it might be a while. Her schedule’s pretty booked.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “The ghost kind of adds character. Maybe I won’t even have her get rid of it.”

We scheduled the appointment, and I hung up, thinking bleakly that that had been ten wasted minutes of my life I would never get back. I also found myself again thinking of Dorian. Not that he would do phone customer service, of course. But that customer’s personality was exactly the kind Dorian loved to taunt. I could see him nodding along seriously with the guy: “Intriguing. Tell me more about your ghost.”

Still, it occurred to me after a few days that I really was making Candace’s life easier. I was also helping out Charles, who was relieved to no longer have to deal with air-conditioning ghosts. I decided the annoyance of customer service was a small price to pay for their hospitality.