Haunter 1: The Shadow of the Haunter

12. The Haunter Supreme

I paced up, leaving Amy behind, and trotted to the end of the trail. In the Manor garden, a black pickup truck idled behind Amy's car, and Mike was coming to meet the man stepping out of the passenger seat. I only got to see he was tall, all clad in black baggy clothes. I came out of the trail to the garden and waved my hand high.

"It's okay, Mike! I got it!"

Mike stopped halfway but lingered there, like making sure I was fine, or safe, or whatever. Brandon Price looked back and started around the vehicle towards me. I was about to approach the truck when Amy grabbed my arm from behind to stop me.

"Keep your distance, Fran. This man carries at least half a dozen parasite demons attached to him," she warned, her eyes fixed on him.

"Joseph will protect me," I replied, freeing my arm.

Brandon Price waited for me by his car. As usual, his face was half-hidden behind his glasses and under his stubble and baseball cap. He stood there with his feet apart and his hands deep in his pockets, his chin pointing up, like a gangbanger looking for a brawl. Or a rockstar, like back in his young good days.

I approached him with a mild frown, wondering what on earth was he doing here, without even texting me in advance. Right before I got to him, I noticed my heart was beating faster than it should. One thing was talking to him over the phone. He looked intimidating in the flesh. Behind me, Amy took a detour to reach the Manor, keeping a hundred feet between her and the pickup truck.

"Mr. Price?" was my greeting.

Mike heard I knew the outlander's name and headed back to his house. He didn't walk in, though, and stayed at the doorway, hands on his hips, like ready to run to my rescue.

"Miss Garner," Price replied with a curt nod. "Do you have a minute?"

Oh, yes, he was definitely intimidating, but I'd be damned if I let it show.

"Sure, but I'm afraid I cannot invite you in."

The front door slammed shut, giving him a start. His wingman stuck his bold head out the driver's window.

"Dude! Did you see that?" he cried, pointing at the door.

Jeez, he was loud even when the cameras were off. Price nodded, observing Amy at the last step of the stairs. Did he think she'd done it? He turned to me again, meeting my eyes for a heartbeat before looking past me, then all around. Mike still observed us from his front door. Amy did from the porch. His wingman from the truck.

"Is there any place where we can talk alone?" he asked, lowering his voice.

I wasn't about to explain to him that I wouldn't go anywhere with him without Joseph as my bodyguard, because he was brimming with demonic parasites that could try to change plates and make me their snack at any moment. So I nodded and motioned for him to walk with me down the trail.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you know I was coming," he said as soon as the thickets hid us from the garden. "We're shooting in Worcester, so I thought I could pay you a visit."

He sounded grave, serious, like his voice-off narration in his episodes. And he looked down, like still avoiding eye contact with me.

"What you showed me the other night was very upsetting, Miss Garner."

"It's Fran."

He didn't seem to register my interruption and went on. "I've tried to reach the psychic who helped me, but I've been informed she passed a couple of years ago."

"Was she a psychic or a witch?" I asked, as gently as the question itself allowed me to.

My words threw him off. He stopped under an old black birch tree to face me, tilting his head with a questioning frown. I explained what Amy had told me about the kind of ritual performed in the basement. Which seemed to throw him off even further.