Darkness Brutal (The Dark Cycle Book 1) by Rachel A. Marks

several key components we see a lot in this type of case. One: a recent trauma—in this case, job loss. Two: only the child in the house is encountering the manifestations. And three: the land is a frequent kill site. There’ve been several reported murders over the decades on the land where the apartment complex is located. Might even be a place of sacrifice.”
    My pulse picks up speed, realizing by that one statement that this guy really knows his spirit rules—rules I’ve known as long as I can remember, like they’re ingrained in my DNA. I’ve never actually met anyone that understands these things like I do—but then, maybe I just don’t get out enough.
    Sid continues, “I told the client we’d be there after seven. Connor, you text me when you’re on-site ready to go.”
    Connor nods.
    “The camera crew will meet you about forty-five minutes after eight, so we can get shots of the internals, and I can do the mother’s interview. Plus, a few shots of the dead circle.”
    I speak up before I realize I shouldn’t. “Camera crew? What the hell’s that mean?”
    Jax winks at me. “It means you’re gonna be a star, Pretty Boy.”
    “Jax,” Sid says with a warning in his voice. Then he turns to me. “We always film our cases, Aidan. It’s nothing to worry about. We have a budding YouTube channel—you may have heard of it: Paranormal Truth . Our Queen Mary case has more than three hundred thousand hits.”
    “The sitch we filmed at the Hollywood sign was my fave,” Holly says. She takes her last bite of toast and adds, “Mostly ’cause Jax practically peed his pants when the EVP said his name afterwards. That was some fan-friggin-tastic television.”
    “No, that was fucking scary shit,” Jax says, like he’s trying to defend his fear.
    “Language.” Sid scowls at him then nods to Connor, who turns and pulls a jar off the counter. He holds it out to Jax.
    Jax rolls his eyes and reaches into the jar, pulling out a small white paper.
    “Read it aloud,” Sid orders.
    “Ten lines of Hamlet,” Jax says, sounding annoyed. He tosses the paper back into the jar.
    “By tomorrow,” Sid says. “Written and oral.” Then he turns to me to explain. “Foul language will earn you a recitation that will grow your vocabulary. Positive reinforcement. Got the idea from this supernanny; she’s a genius.” He gives me a quick smile. “But as to the filming, if you don’t want to be a part of it, that’s fine. We also have a possible deal in the works with a production company, but we can always leave your part of it on the cutting room floor.” He leans in and gives me a look, like he senses why I’d be worried about it—even though I’m not sure why myself. “I don’t leave trails to follow either,” he says.
    My gut churns.
    “But don’t just observe,” he adds. “Feel free to speak up about what you see or feel on this one. Let’s see your stuff, Aidan.” He knocks me on the arm with his cane, the crystal ball at the tip thudding into my muscle. I bite my tongue as he walks out of the kitchen.
    Once Sid clears hearing distance, Jax says under his breath, “Yeah, let’s see what you can do, newb.” And then he swings back to punch me on the shoulder.
    I grab his wrist before his fist catches my arm.
    The room goes still, all eyes on me.
    Surprise, then alarm, fills Jax’s features when I don’t release him right away.
    “I’m just playing, man.” He fake laughs. “Shit!”
    I let go and back up. I’m used to other boys trying to kick my ass; I’m used to having to defend myself, and I’m good at it. But I see in Jax’s eyes that he’s telling the truth—just a joke, no harm intended. I say what comes to the tip of my tongue anyway. “Touch me again and I break your fingers.”
    Lester releases a low whistle.
    Jax chuckles nervously. “Wow, Kara, I think we finally found your soul mate.”
    And then they all laugh—even Finger’s shoulders shake. Not Kara and Connor,