Chapter 6
A persistent buzzing wakes me. I’m not sure where I am, exactly. A large, flat-screen TV looms over me. It might be threatening if I couldn’t see my reflection and Malcolm’s in the darkened screen. But I can. I like the picture so much that I consider buying my own television.
The buzzing continues, pauses, then starts up again. My phone. On silent. I always turn the ringer off when we go out on an eradication. The last thing you want is the ringtone blaring right as you’re about to make a catch.
“What is that?” Malcolm murmurs against my neck.
“My phone. It’s ... somewhere.” Not my back pocket, where I usually tuck it.
“Did it fall out when the ghost threw you against the door?”
Oh, of course. I push to get up only to have Malcolm capture my arms.
“Stay put,” he says. “I’
