The sincere compliment made heat rise in her cheeks, and she was grateful for the darkness that hid her blush. "Well, we'll see about that tomorrow when I start looking for mysterious ceremony grounds in the middle of the forest."
"We'll see," Luka corrected gently. "You're not doing this alone, remember?"
Before she could respond to that reminder, movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Translucent figures were materializing around her cottage. Dozens of them, their ethereal forms becoming more solid with each passing moment. Native American spirits, their faces marked by centuries of accumulated sorrow and growing anger, stood in silent vigil around her home.
"Oh," she breathed, her hand instinctively reaching for Luka's arm. "That's new."
The spirits weren't threatening, exactly, but their presence carried a weight of expectation that made the air itself feel heavy. Ancient eyes tracked her movement as she stood frozen at hergarden gate, and she could feel the accumulated force of their desperate hope pressing against her consciousness.
"Aiyana," she called softly, addressing the elderly Cherokee woman whose spirit seemed to be leading the others. "I hear you. I'm trying to understand what you need."
The spirit leader stepped forward, her form solidifying until she looked almost completely human. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of centuries and the pain of broken promises.
"Time grows short, daughter of Salem's blood," Aiyana said, her words echoing strangely in the cold air. "The barriers weaken. Soon, what was hidden will be hidden no more."
"What barriers?" Leenah asked, though she was beginning to suspect she already knew.
"The agreements that keep your sanctuary safe from those who would destroy it," Aiyana replied. "The pact must be renewed, or all will be lost."
The spirit's gaze shifted to Luka, and something like approval flickered in her ancient eyes. "The bear stands with you. Good. You will need his strength for what comes."
Before either of them could ask what she meant, the spirits began to fade, their translucent forms dissolving into the November mist. Aiyana was the last to disappear, her final words hanging in the air like a warning.
"The ceremony grounds remember, even when the living forget. Find them, child of between. Before the next dark moon rises."
And then they were gone, leaving Leenah and Luka alone in the sudden quiet of her garden with the weight of supernatural expectations settling around them like a shroud.
11
LEENAH
Leenah's hands shook as she fumbled with her garden gate latch, the adrenaline from Aiyana's appearance making her fingers unsteady. The spirit's words echoed in her mind—the barriers weaken, time grows short—carrying implications that made her feel suddenly, desperately out of her depth.
She'd been handling supernatural encounters her entire adult life, but this felt different. Bigger. More consequential than helping confused spirits find peace or researching local ghost stories for curious tourists. The fate of Hollow Oak's protective barriers, the safety of everyone she'd come to care about in this strange little town, apparently rested on her ability to locate ceremony grounds that might not even exist anymore.
"You okay?" Luka asked and she realized she'd been standing frozen at her gate for several long moments.
"Fine," she said automatically, then immediately amended, "No, actually. Not fine at all. That was..." She gestured helplessly toward where the spirits had been standing. "A lot more direct than usual supernatural communication."
"Yeah, I got that impression." Luka moved closer, his solid presence radiating warmth in the cold November air. "Want to talk about it?"
She caught the underlying concern in his tone. He was worried about her, she realized. Not just about the supernatural crisis threatening their town, but about how she was handling the pressure of being the person everyone expected to fix it.
When was the last time someone had cared about her wellbeing for its own sake rather than what she could do for them?
"Coffee," she said abruptly, pushing open the gate. "We should... I mean, we need to discuss what happens next. Plan our search strategy. Figure out what 'before the next dark moon' actually means in practical terms."
"Sure," Luka agreed easily, following her up the path to her front door. "Coffee sounds good."
But as she unlocked the door and stepped into the familiar warmth of her cottage, Leenah realized she was using the need for planning as an excuse. What she really wanted was to not be alone right now, to have Luka's steady presence anchoring her while she processed the enormity of what the spirits had asked of her.
The admission should have terrified her. She'd spent years building walls around her heart, protecting herself from the kind of disappointment that came from depending on other people. But somehow, the idea of letting Luka stay felt less like weakness and more like... relief.
"Kitchen's this way," she said, leading him through the living room with its scattered research materials and cold fireplace. Minerva emerged from wherever she'd been hiding during the spiritual manifestation, winding around Leenah's legs with the kind of pointed attention that suggested the cat had opinions about recent events.
"At least someone's had a peaceful evening," Leenah murmured, scratching behind Minerva's ears.
"Cats are smart," Luka observed, crouching to offer his hand to the feline. "They know when to make themselves scarce."
