Deadly Curiosities by Gail Z. Martin Page A

one night,” Teag said quietly. He had gone to the door, to reassure Rebecca that all was well, and a moment later, she came back with a glass of sweet iced tea before she returned to her upstairs hideaway.
    I drank the sweet tea with gusto. In Charleston, sweet tea is brewed strong and loaded with sugar. It was just what I needed. While I drank the tea, Teag set the picture frames image side down on the table and placed a small piece of charcoal on top of them. I felt the bad vibes calm almost immediately.
    “I’ll be okay,” I said resolutely. “I still don’t think we’ve found the key.”
    On the way over to the mirror room, I made a mental note to give Teag a well-deserved raise. For combat pay. And I resolved to take him and Anthony out for dinner at the nicest restaurant I could afford. I couldn’t imagine doing this on my own, and I was immensely grateful for their support.
    I thought that Anthony might have balked at the idea of ghosts, supernatural phenomena, or my psychometric talent. But falling for Teag meant learning to accept his Weaver magic. And since he and Teag had already jumped that hurdle, I guess seeing my abilities in action was no longer much of a shock. So far, I thought he was coping rather well.
    Anthony opened the door to the last bedroom and flipped on the light.
    “I don’t think I’d want to sleep here,” he said, glancing around. “I can’t put my finger on why, but something’s not right.”
    Then again, perhaps Anthony’s a sensitive. I thought to myself. That would certainly explain a few things. Teag had hinted as much, though I suspected Anthony might still be chalking up his insights to intuition.
    I started with the furniture again. It radiated moodiness. Anthony walked over to the window and looked out.
    “This room looks down on the garden,” he said. The garden that was mysteriously vandalized, I thought.
    I picked up a vague longing from the seascape painting. The oil painting of the young woman, to my relief, gave no impression at all. That left the pewter lantern and the Chinese Foo dog statue, plus the mirror.
    The lantern held a candle inside a small glass globe. It wasn’t one of the pieces that came from Trifles and Folly, and neither was the Foo dog statue. The lantern didn’t seem to have any supernatural juice, so it wasn’t what was causing our problem.
    This was one of the rooms with a working fireplace. The opening was covered with a metal curtain, and a vintage poker and tongs sat in a holder next to the hearth. Two chairs were arranged facing the fireplace, and if weren’t for the damned mirror, I bet the room would have felt charming and cozy.
    The mirror hung over the mantle. It was the focal point of the room, and the piece I had been avoiding. Anywhere else, I would have thought it was a handsome piece with its ribbon-like bronze frame. For its age, the silver backing on the mirror was in very good condition, and I remembered thinking how lovely it was when we had it in the shop. Now, it seemed sinister.
    As I stared at the mirror, I caught a glimpse of a shadow behind me. I wheeled, and saw nothing, feeling foolish as Teag and Anthony stared at me.
    “Something wrong?” Teag asked.
    “I thought I saw something,” I murmured, turning my attention back to the mirror. I decided to leave the Chinese Foo dog statue for last.
    I took another step toward the mirror, fighting my fear. As I stared into it, I felt turmoil, as if beneath the placid silver surface wild seas roiled. Just in case, I took one of Teag’s pouches of salt and shoved it into my jeans pocket. When I got within arm’s length, I saw that the mirror was gray, not silver, and at this distance, I could make out ghostly images sliding across it.
    I touched the mirror, and tumbled into its depths.
    Someone – something – was in the mirror. I could see motion out of the corner of my eye, but every time I turned nothing was there. I felt like Alice, gone through the looking