Darkside – Grim Gate Read Online Emily Goodwin

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
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“Oh my god.”

“I know. The crime scene photos are brutal to look at for that one. And then there was another, a sixteen year old boy who was strangled and marked with an upside down cross. Not a woman this time so the connection wasn’t made right away, but Ethan told me about your witch theory and this kid, Shawn Cypress, had a blog about Satan worshiping. There’s another big time gap, and in 2018 we have the classic strangulation and cross murder again in Canada. That was the only record I was able to pull since my contact in the Order only has access to US files. But there was media coverage on it that detailed the murder. It was the first time all the details were publicly aired, and it’s almost as if that scared the killer. There hadn’t been a murder until recently.”

“How recent?”

“Two weeks ago. A forty-two year old woman who had a big following on TikTok.”

“Let me guess: she posted about witchcraft.”

“Yep. The investigation is still open and was ruled an accident at first. I only tagged this one based on the whole witch hunter angle, and the fact that the accelerant they found at the scene was the same as the 2007 car fire murder. It was turpentine.”

“You’re good. Like, damn, Julia. I’m impressed.”

“Nah. Technology and keyword searches help. I’m going to keep digging. We’re up to thirteen deaths I’m confident are connected.”

“Yeah, it seems like it. But Stuart died in the early 90s”

“Maybe his spirit isn’t bound to the building. We’ve seen it before, and I’ve already texted Ethan. When spirits can travel and kill like this, they turn into something else.”

I shiver, already knowing what she’s going to say next.

“Something demonic.”

Chapter

Twenty-One

“Something feels weird.” I close the kitchen door behind me and look at Hunter. He feels it too. It’s almost as if I’m exposed, like I’m on display yet no one is watching me. “It’s probably residual effects of realizing that we almost spend an entire night with a murdering ghost. I called Keith on my way home to let him know, and he texted me right when I pulled into the driveway to tell me that it took some convincing, but his aunt agreed to stay away—for now. I have no idea what he told her, but if I need to sneak over and use magic to scare her away, I will.

She’s not a witch, but she’s a known associate of one. And that’s a risk we’re not willing to take.

I take off my shoes and wash my hands, planning on making something for lunch. Ethan should be home soon and we need to eat and then catch up on the sleep we both missed last night.

“Because there’s a serial killer ghost on the loose,” I mumble, shaking my head. Something bangs on the ground above me and I jump. I don’t think twice as I turn and run up the stairs, right hand out in front of me as I summon fire around my fingers. Something bumps again and I’m about to telekinetically fling Nik’s door open when I hear him laugh.

And now I know the source of the thumping noise.

Shit, I’m on edge. Rightly so, I know. Letting out a breath, I sneak back down the stairs and decide to simply make macaroni and cheese. I magically heat up the water to an instant boil, turn on the burner to keep it boiling, and add the noodles, glancing at the time on the microwave. Ethan should be home by now and I’m starting to get worried.

What if Stuart went after him?

I call and his phone goes to voicemail. Instead of nervously pacing around the house, I go onto the back porch and look out at the pasture, watching Ross and Rachel boss Sundance around. My heart rate slows and some of my anxiety melts away.

“Horses are so majestic,” I say out loud, talking to no one in particular. Once I’m not on the verge of a panic attack anymore, I go back inside and check on the noodles. They’re just about done, needing maybe a minute more. I call Ethan and this time he answers.

“Hey babe,” he says. “I just left. My last student had a breakdown we had to work through.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. She left much more optimistic than I’ve seen her since we’ve been working together. Her husband cheated on her and left and she’s working on what she calls her revenge body and didn’t think she was progressing.”

“Oh, that’s sad. Is she progressing?” I put the phone on speaker and drain the water.

“Yeah. It just took comparing progress photos. And calling her ex an asshole helped. I gotta say, you’re really lucky you have me.”

I laugh. “I really am.”

“I’m the lucky one. I love you, Anora. So fucking much.”


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