Chapter 2

The voice rang in Anise's head, barely coherent snips of thoughts and memories. She had never channeled another medium before. It was overwhelming. The girl came to her while she read about the séance massacre in the newspaper. Now she was a part of it.

"Anise!"

She gasped, filling her empty lungs with precious air. She felt herself slump in the chair. Her sister, Senna grasped her arms.

"What have you seen?" she asked.

Senna was an empath, a psychic, but not a medium. Her talents kept Anise safe as she channeled spirits for their clients.

"The girl," Anise said hoarsely, handing her the newspaper. "She came to me."

Senna read in silence for a moment. "What did she say?"

"She told me what she saw. The paper says they can't find her, but she's saying she drowned herself. I can't say I blame her. This is terrible."

"Is she guilty?"

"No. She lost control of a spirit. He murdered those people." Fear seized her as she imagined it happening to her.

"No, Anise," Senna said, almost reading her thoughts. "I'm here whenever you hold séances. I wouldn't let that happen."

Anise had told her once that if she ever did lose control, Senna should kill her rather than let me hurt anyone. She had nearly slipped a few times, but usually a little nick on the hand from the point of a knife brought her back. Still, the sisters had agreed it was for the best. It was never safe to let a spirit have rule over a body; they had a habit of becoming greedy and taking what they liked if the medium relinquished control.

"So, what did she want?"

"She didn't say."

"It says here her name was Geneva Hanson. Perhaps we should look into her past." Senna said, looking over the paper again.

"Do you think I should try again?" I asked.

"Later, maybe. You're drained. Besides, we have places to be."

Anise had forgotten. Their friend, Paul Dawes, had asked the girls over for tea. He was technically their guardian – a cousin and their next of kin - but he never acted that way. He was only a few years older than them, but just enough that he had come of age and had authority. When their parents passed, he had granted them residence in a wing of the estate he had inherited from his father. Paul was a wizard of sorts, an alchemist disguised as a scientist. In times like those, where the world's view of magic was changing again, it was difficult to bare your supernatural abilities without danger following.

Paul invited them in with mock formality. They took tea in Paul's study, the place where they had all started their experiments with magic. He leaned forward in his seat when Anise recalled her experience.

"You channeled a medium? How curious. I've never heard such a thing."

"Do you think it's safe?" Senna asked, sipping her tea. "It seems this Geneva Hanson took Anise quite by surprise."

"Not without supervision. It's a good thing you were there, Senna. I think full possession is too risky. Perhaps try automatic writing instead. Give her your hand, not your whole body."

Anise nodded. "I had considered that, but she died of suicide after being the vessel through which nearly a dozen murders occurred. Should I even give her my hand?"

"I want to be there when you do it. You may not be able to keep control alone, but I can help." Senna ran her finger over the edge of her saucer in thought. "Tonight is the full moon. That would be the best time to try to contact her."

"All the better. We need to gather items of protection. Senna, I trust your knowledge of herbs. Nothing for exorcism or banishing, though. We must be careful."