The steps creaked under my boots, the sound echoing out ominously in the empty stairwell. I was cautious as I made my way up; it wouldn't do to get too reckless now. The thought almost made me laugh. Not five minutes ago, I had shot out an aquarium tank and dumped an entire wave on myself. I was pretty sure that counted as reckless... There was a door at the top of the stairs. I used my jump method, and, as usual, nothing leaped out at me. I was beginning to feel like I was wasting effort with that move, but it was better than getting killed because I was careless.

The room on the other side was small, holding only a few chairs and a door at the other end. It looked like an ordinary waiting room. The feeling, though, that wasn't normal. From beyond the door in front of me, I could feel the pressure of the soul cage. My head started to throb with a slow pain that grew stronger the closer I got to the door. I reached out to it, hesitated, then opened it and jumped to the side. A blast of air whistled past me, causing my coat to billow open and water to spray for my soaked hair. While my heart rate picked up, I felt an undeniable surge of satisfaction. "Ha! It wasn't a waste of effort, take that!" I yelled as I peeked through the doorway, gun raised.

A man sat behind a thick oak desk, a window-lined one wall, and an uncomfortable-looking metal chair sat across from him. The room smelled like flowery air freshener, an odd detail for my brain to pick out, but it stuck out to me for some reason. The man was somewhat lengthy. His dark brown hair was cut short, with streaks of gray marking his temples. He wore a suit that looked just a little bit too big on him, and his face was narrow and lean. His eyes were a light brown and practically glowed with confidence I immediately found annoying. His features weren't particularly attention-grabbing, save for a horizontal scar across his forehead.

No, what grabbed my attention was the fact that I could look straight through him to the wall at his back. My voice came out strangled and choked. "You're a ghost?" The man smiled and lifted his hand in a – you got me – gesture. "Yes, quite observant of you. I'm not sure why you're surprised. You did walk in here yesterday with a ghost in tow." His voice was high pitched and smug. I stared at the man. My anger felt cold rather than hot, the logical part of my brain taking it over and using it for fuel. It shouldn't matter that he was a ghost, ghosts were people after all, no less capable of horrific acts than anyone. But it did matter.

I had encountered many ghosts who tried to kill me, the majority of them had been out of their minds, but most of those hadn't been terrible people while alive. But I had met other ghosts who, while not insane, were still scum. That always felt like a betrayal. I had no idea why, it didn't make sense to feel that way, but I did. And knowing that the man in front of me had trapped other ghosts somehow made the act even worse, almost like a fratricide. I could feel the soul cage; it was right in front of me and a little below. I was sure that if I broke through the floor, I would find ghosts trapped inside of it.

I took a deep breath and showed my anger aside. His being a ghost was just another thing to add to the pile. I stared at him, my knuckles white on the shotgun's grip. For a second, I considered firing. It wouldn't do anything.It would just be a childish gesture of frustration, one that might make me feel better, though. I sighed and dropped the gun, letting it hang from its strap. The man in front of me was dangerous and ruthless enough to go after a complete stranger to achieve his goals. I couldn't let my anger make decisions for me.

The man in question leaned back in his chair, tilting his chin up as he did.With a start, I realized his throat had been cut. I hadn't been able to see it before, but with the new angle, I could see the deep gash in the flesh of his neck, which was currently gaping open like a small mouth. I pushed my now dry hair away from my face and said, "I suppose I won't be winning any prizes for guessing how you died." My words made the man's eyes grow cold, and he leaned forward with a scowl.

"No, you won't be. I'm not in the habit of awarding someone for easy work." The man snorted, and I saw his arm moving under his desk, likely pressing a button to call his people. Of course, as a ghost, he didn't need to move to press a button. But if he had recently died, he might not be in the habit of using magic like that. I paused as a thought struck me, one I voiced aloud." I suppose you must be buying the wards then, since you're not a mage." The man's eyes grew colder still at my words."You're right, I am buying wards, but who says I'm not a mage?"

I looked the man up and down, then gestured to him. "You are aware that you're dead, correct?" The man, who I assumed was Trenton, sneered. "Yes, the fact had come to my attention. Feel free to ask more questions. You have a couple of minutes before my people arrive." Odd, why did he tell me that? I had already assumed his people were on the way, but the smart thing to do would have been to stall me until they got here. But he obviously wanted me distracted, and I was exactly where I wanted to be. I could play ball.

"Okay, I have some questions, and you seem like the kind of man who enjoys bragging." The man's smug smile faltered for a second before I went on. "First, why the hell are you making giant crabs and shit? Actually, scratch that," I said as he began to answer. "What is your name? I'm tired of thinking of you as the man." The man glared at me for interrupting, at least I assume that's why he was glaring, then snapped. "Trenton, my name is Trenton Gallo. And as for the animals... Well, isn't it obvious?"

I stared at the man – at Trenton, my eyes cold. "Enlighten me." Could I hear the footsteps of approaching goons in the distance, or was it just my imagination? Trenton smiled in a way that made me want to bury my fist in his face at an almost instinctual level. It was so smug and condescending. "I'm a businessman. This is a business. Did it never cross your mind that if we can make them giant, we might be able to make them fast?" My exhausted brain worked through the man's words until it finally gasped and wheezed to a conclusion.

"This, this is a giant ranch!?" I made no attempt to hide the incredulous tone of my voice, but Trenton didn't seem to mind. He only smiled and nodded. "Do you have any idea how much money crab and lobster meat sells for? It's a brilliant operation now that we've worked out the kinks."

My brain was trying and failing to wrap itself around the concept that the chaos of the last forty-eight hours had been over something as mundane as a farm, albeit a magical one. After a few seconds, I forced myself to ask another question. I was on a time limit. "So, all of this shit was for selling meat," I winced as I spoke, it just sounded so stupid. "But what the hell is the rule of three your goons keep mentioning?"

Trenton leaned back in his chair again, that smug smile placed firmly on his lips. "My organization is like a well-oiled machine. We are all professionals, wolves among sheep." "Wolves among sheep", I asked? "If one of the gears that makes up a machine breaks, or fails to fulfill its role, then it must be replaced. This machine can only have excellency. But, I'm not a cruel man. I give my people three chances. But after that three... The piece gets tossed out." I didn't say a word. I just stared at the man. He killed his own people if they made three mistakes. That was... I... That was so absurd, so idiotic that it made growing giant crabs in order to sell their meat seem reasonable by comparison.

Killing your own workforce was the type of thing crime bosses did in bad movies, not in real life. That was like shooting yourself in the foot because you tripped. Not only was it morally horrific, but it was an inefficient and idiotic use of resources as well! Only a... Several things clicked into place in my head.The absurdity of this whole thing, the way specific actions had been taken. Suddenly it made sense.

I stared at Trenton, and as I started to speak, my voice was filled with a horrified realization. "You're an idiot, aren't you?" The man's smile dropped, and he started to speak, but I just shook my head. "You're a grade-A dumb ass. You, you." I gritted my teeth and forced myself to ask one more question. "Answer just one more question before you start spewing threats. You used to be a mage, didn't you? You were the one they handed this place to after everything went to hell in the fifties." Trenton's eyes filled with anger, but he nodded.

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"My colleague failed to keep things under control, but I made sure I never had anything linking me to this place's earlier operations, so I was able to work without anybody so much as sparing this place a second glance." I was certain I could hear footsteps now and distant yells. Not much time left. I closed my eyes and asked the question that had been burning underneath the others.

"Did you cut out a man's tongue?" Trenton narrowed his eyes, and his smile slowly began to stretch back across his face. "Yes, he came to you, did he? Howard always had just a little bit too much spine, and not enough common sense." The man's voice was ugly, the smooth and professional mask he had been speaking through cracking to show something dark and cruel underneath.

Anger, frustration, disbelief, and exhaustion all warred in my head until I felt numb. This idiot sitting in front of me had done his best to kidnap me, had killed others and tortured them. I was sure what Trenton meant by too much spine was that John, or Howard, hadn't stood for whatever had been going on. He'd probably tried to go to the Knull clan.

I stared at Trenton as the sound of stomping feet grew closer and closer. We would have company soon. Trenton rose from his seat and walked towards me. His gait had the kind of conference that only the extremely strong or extremely stupid possessed. It was a confidence that many ghosts gained. When most of the things you came across couldn't touch you, a certain amount of carelessness was inevitable. I had the feeling he’d had it in life too.

"Well, my people are almost here. Do you have any more questions?" Trenton's voice was calm, but I could see the anger in his expression. Spooks in positions of power didn't get badmouthed that often, since if you did it to the wrong person, a fight would almost inevitably follow. I took a single step closer, bringing me inside his personal space. "Yeah, I can think of a few more." I met his eyes, and my hands tightened into fists. "You made the soul cage, right?" He nodded.

I was sure he didn't have a clue why I wasn't running or trying to escape some other way, but I was also certain he wasn't going to complain if sat here and allowed myself to be captured. "So is that why it isn't affecting you... That or since you were a mage, you might have better control over ambient magic than the average ghost?" He smiled. I didn't. The man was almost a foot taller than me, but I still did my best to glare him down.

"Last question, I promise. When did you die?" Trenton's eyes flicked from me to the door and a back. The footsteps had almost reached it. "Two years ago, a business partner betrayed me. They weren't ready for me to return the favor as a ghost." He looked to me like the type of ghost that didn't carry the pain with them. I doubted he would act so smug if his cut throat actually hurt him. He might still be crazy, but not the type of crazy I was used to. "So, it's been two years since you last felt pain." Trenton's brows began to furrow in confusion.

Then I punched him in the throat as hard as I could. I didn't give any warnings, any buildup. It was the kind of blow that might've done permanent damage if he had been alive. He couldn't get that kind of damage as a ghost. But being dead didn't stop my fist from connecting. The man dropped to his knees in an instant, gagging and clutching at his throat. He looked at me in utter shock, and I gave him a grim smile. "That was for trying to kidnap me." I drew my boot back and kicked him in the stomach. He collapsed forward, gasping and gagging at the same time." And that was for Howard!" I raised my shotgun and turned. The door burst open a second later, and two men and one woman, all armed, rushed in.

They froze as they saw the massive barrel pointed at them. It seemed they hadn't been expecting me to be armed, so they hadn't had their guns raised and ready to fire. I gave them all a smile that didn't touch my eyes and said, "Let's be realistic here. I can kill one, maybe two of you before one of you gets a shot off. Chances are I can't kill all three of you, but we all know that at least one of you is going to die before I do."

Behind me, Trenton gagged and wheezed on the floor. "Not to mention that your dumb-ass boss might kill you for taking away the bait, after all, you don't know if I'll still be any use dead. Their eyes flicked from Trenton to me, uncertain. For a second, I was worried they might think I was bluffing. I wasn't exactly an intimidating presence at the best of times. I was a short, scrawny teenager and perpetually looked like I was trying to be a goth but wasn't committed to the image, what with my pitch-black hair and pale skin.

I didn't want to be here holding a gun; I wanted to be home drinking a cup of coffee with too much sugar in it and playing cards with Ben and Rogers or reading a book. But that wasn't what the three guards saw. I was covered in scrapes and bruises. My clothes were tattered and soaked. And the massive shotgun gleamed in the electric lights. They saw someone who had attacked their hideout and killed a werewolf, assuming they found the remains of the body. Then escaped another trap and went straight for their boss. And when they arrived, they saw their boss, who should by rights be almost untouchable, wheezing on the floor.

I did not want to be here. I didn't want to shoot any of them. But that same will that had made me draw and fire earlier. That made me shoot out an aquarium tank, still burned behind my eyes. I wasn’t going without a fight, and all of them could see that. All three of them hesitated, none of them wanted to be the one who got a slug in the chest. All was quiet save for Trenton's gasps, then the sound of footsteps pounding up the stairs reached us. The three goons didn't turn, not wanting to show me their backs, but all of them flinched as the sounds grew closer.

I cursed as I saw who the footsteps belonged to. The crazy woman, I needed to find out her name, walked into the office, and stopped behind the three goons. She... She wasn't looking so hot. One eye was glued shut with blood, and she had walked with a limp. Her right arm hung at an awkward angle that told me it was broken. However, despite all of that, the glare she sent my way had enough heat behind it that I could've warmed my hands on it.

"You." That single word carried enough venom in it that the three goons in front of the woman flinched, even though it wasn't directed at them. I smiled and waggled the gun slightly. "Me!" Her jaw clenched, and she took a step forward. I shifted the barrel, so it pointed slightly towards her. "I."

For a brief second, I thought she was going to throw herself at me, shotgun be damned. Instead, she smiled. "Thank you. If you hadn't made this so difficult, then I wouldn't have enjoyed the next part nearly as much." As she spoke, I noticed a detail now that my aura was unveiled, and I wasn't dodging for my life. She didn't have any wards on her. If she'd had any left, she probably used them to stop the tank breaking from killing her. But she had something else strange about her. It was like an invisible thread of steel sturdy power running out from her head to behind me.

What the hell was that? A second later, I realized Trenton had stopped panting. Before I could implement my backup plan, send a blast of my shroud out in every direction, hopefully taking Trenton and the soul cage out at the same time, something hit me from behind. It flung me to the ground face first, and my abused back screamed in pain. I gasped out; the air nearly knocked from my lungs.

When I breathed back in, I caught the scent of bleach and cleaning wipes coming from the floor. A hand roughly rolled me over onto my back, tears sprung up in my eyes from the pain, but I blinked them clear. Trenton was standing over me, one of the goons holding me by the shoulders, keeping me from moving. Horror filled me as I looked at Trenton, I couldn't see the ambient magic clearly since I hadn't removed the veil from my sight, but with my aura out I had a general sense of it. Right now, it was swirling around Trenton, concentrated as if he had an aura of his own.

That was odd but explainable. He was a mage in life, so it made sense that he could shape ambient magic with a high amount of skill. What wasn't explainable, what should have been impossible, was the fact that the magic was a bright red in color. How is he aspecting the magic? It looked almost exactly like it would if he'd been a mage. But ghosts couldn't do that! Changing ambient magic to that degree was an interaction with magic that could only come from a living being. How could he...?

My thoughts cut off as that swirl of magic crashed down on me. Suddenly it felt like I was in an oven, heat scorched me and sucked the air from my lungs, my ears could only hear a high-pitched ringing sound. I gasped and writhed on the floor. "Thank you for the distraction, Sarah," Trenton said. Then he turned his gaze towards me.

"It isn't hot enough to leave burns. But it is one of the more unpleasant ways to be knocked unconscious. A bit of wind magic mixed in, and suddenly, there's a barrier that won't let you draw breath." Trenton's words sounded calm, but they were laced with a furious anger that made everyone around me retreat. I barely noticed. I couldn't breathe! My lungs made the motion, but no air came!

My vision started to darken, and my lungs burned. I was sure that I would pass out any second, that the pain would vanish. It didn't. It went on for what felt like an eternity until I finally, mercifully, blacked out.