Dark Siren Read Online Free Page B

said, “Aren’t you a handsome devil?” and she moved her finger to the trigger, but the shape bolted before she could press the button, flying across the room in a blur. Alice spun around and attempted to find it again, but the thing was slippery. It smashed through what was left of a wooden table, sending an explosion of splinters in all directions like shrapnel from a grenade. Alice covered her eyes and turned away to shield herself from the spray. She took a step back and her foot came down on an inconveniently placed bottle of wine. The ground rolled underfoot and the world tilted, but she stuck a hand out and held herself against a wall.
    “Okay,” she said once she had recovered. She kicked the bottle aside. “That wasn’t cool.” Her heart was beating hard, now. Not from what she had seen through the eye of the camera, but from the thought of having almost fallen over. The floor was wet and sticky with beer, and there were pieces of broken glass and splintered wood everywhere. Forget that.
    “See this?” she asked, holding the camera in front of her chest. “Do you know what this is?”
    A can of beer came hurtling out of the darkness, but Alice saw it and twirled out of its path before it could strike her. It slammed against a wall with a loud boom, and the beer came spitting out in all directions like a tiny fire hose. “I don’t think you know what exactly this camera is,” Alice said, continuing as if nothing had happened, “That’s okay, you don’t have to know what this is or does. All you need to know is that you may have given the grim reaper the slip and managed to hold on after you passed, but you won’t slip by me and this camera. I’m the one they send to clean up stragglers like you.”
    She felt her chest tighten, as if someone had poked a hole in the room and all the oxygen was being sucked out. “I know,” Alice said, “I know you want me out. But this isn’t your place, and you need to leave. I can help you do that. I can help you cross.” A bottle rolled along the floor. She wasn’t sure if this was the same bottle she had almost stumbled over a moment ago or a different one, but the sound had come from somewhere nearby, which meant the thing was nearby too. Alice chose not to raise her camera.
    There were two ways she could deal with this thing. She could trap it, or she could reason with it. Some spirits were less willing to talk than others, but whenever she could get one of them to leave without having to use her camera, everybody won. Other times, trapping a spirit was all she could do if she wanted to get the job done; and when you’re getting paid to do something, the end result is all that matters. But using her camera was taxing, and if she could get away without using it, she would.
    “Talk to me,” she said. “Let me help you deal with whatever’s brought you here so you and I can both go home.”
    A finger of ice caressed Alice’s right shoulder and she spun, camera up, reacting on instinct. She saw, through the eye of the camera, a skinny shape shoulder-charge one of the wooden support columns in the middle of the room. The thing hit the column with such force the floor shook and dust fell from the ceiling. Knowing she only had an instant to react, Alice pulled her camera up and pressed her finger to the trigger. The camera made a clack and the room filled with harsh blue light.
    Silence fell. The pressure around Alice’s chest lifted, and she lowered her camera. It made a whirring sound, and a second later a blank Polaroid came sliding out of the slit on the front. She plucked it out, and shook it once, twice, three times. The image formed much quicker than it would have from an average, off-the-shelf camera, but this one was special.
    Inside the picture frame, a man was staring at Alice literally as if he had been caught on candid camera—eyes wide, mouth opened in an O of surprise, hands up to protect his face. He was old and frail, with wispy white