I tried calling my dad. Not on the phone or anything because, of course, my dad can’t be reached that way, being dead. I tried calling to him wherever he was, out there on the astral plane.

Only of course he didn’t come, either. But then, he never does. Well, sometimes he does. But rarely, and not this time.

I just want you to know that I don’t normally freak out like this. I mean, normally, I am very much a woman of action. Something happens and, well, I go kick some butts. That’s how it usually works.

But this…

For some reason, I couldn’t think straight. I really couldn’t. I was just sitting there in my hunter green lounging pajamas, going, What should I do? What should I do?

Seriously. It was not good.

Which was why I did what I did next. If I couldn’t figure out what to do myself, well, I needed someone to tell me what to do. And I knew just the someone who could.

I had to talk quietly because, of course, by that time it was past eleven, and everyone in the house but me was asleep.

“Is Father Dominic there?” I asked.

The person on the other end of the phone—an older man, from the sound of it—went, “What’s that, honey? I can barely hear you.”

“Father Dominic,” I said, speaking as loudly as I dared. “Please, I need to speak to Father Dominic right away. Is he there?”

“Sure, honey,” the man on the phone said. Then I heard him yell, “Dom! Hey, Dom! Phone for you!”

Dom? How dare that man call Father Dominic Dom? Talk about disrespectful.

But all my indignation melted when I heard Father Dominic’s soft, deep voice. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him, not seeing him every day over the summer like I do during the school year. “Hello?”

“Father Dom,” I said. No, I didn’t say it. I’ll admit it: I wept it. I was a basket case.

“Susannah?” Father Dominic sounded shocked. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I said. All right, not said: sobbed. “It’s not me. It’s J-Jesse.”

“Jesse?” Father Dom’s voice took on the note it always did when the subject of Jesse came up. It’d taken him a while to warm up to Jesse. I guess I could see why. Father D. is not only a priest, he’s also the principal of a Catholic school. He’s not supposed to approve of stuff like girls and guys sharing a bedroom…even if the guy is, you know, dead.

And I could understand it, because it’s different with mediators than it is with everyone else. Everyone else just walks through ghosts. They do it all the time, and they don’t even know it. Oh, maybe they feel a cold spot, or they think they’ve glimpsed something out of the corner of their eye, but when they turn around, no one is there.

It’s different for mediators. For us, ghosts are made up of matter, not shrouds of mist. I can’t put my hand through Jesse, though anyone else could. Well, anyone else but Jack and Father Dom.

So it’s understandable why Father Dom’s never been too wild about Jesse, even though the guy’s saved my life more times than I can count. Because whatever else he is, Jesse’s still a guy, and he’s living in my bedroom, and…well, you get the picture.

Not, of course, that there’d been anything going on—much to my chagrin.

The thing was, now there never would be. I mean, now I’d never even know if something could have happened. Because he was gone.

I didn’t mention any of this to Father Dom, of course. I just told him what had happened, about Maria and the knife and the bugs, and about Clive Clemmings being dead and the missing portrait, and how they’d found Jesse’s body and now he was gone.

“And he promised me,” I finished, somewhat incoherently, because I was crying so hard. “He swore that wasn’t it, that that wasn’t what was holding him here. But now he’s gone, and—”

Father Dominic’s voice was soothing and controlled in comparison to my hiccupy ramblings.

“All right, Susannah,” he said. “I understand. I understand. Obviously there are forces at work here that are beyond Jesse’s control and, well, beyond yours, too, I might add. I’m glad you called me. You were right to call me. Listen, now, and do exactly as I say.”

I sniffled. It felt so good—I can’t even describe to you how good it felt—to have someone telling me what to do. Really. Ordinarily the last thing I want is to be told what to do. But in this case, I really, really appreciated it. I clung to the phone, waiting breathlessly for Father Dominic’s instructions.

“You’re in your room, I suppose?” Father D. said.

I nodded, realized he couldn’t see me, and said, “Yes.”

“Good. Wake your family and tell them exactly what you just told me. Then get out of the house. Get out of that house, Susannah, just as quickly as you can.”

I took the phone away from my ear and looked at the receiver as if it had just started bleating in my ear like a sheep. Seriously. Because that would have made about as much sense as what Father Dom just said.

I put the receiver back to my ear.

“Susannah?” Father Dom was saying. “Did you hear me? I am perfectly serious about this. One man is already dead. I do not doubt that someone in your family will be next if you do not get them out of there.”

I know I was a wreck and all. But I wasn’t that much of a wreck.

“Father D.,” I said. “I can’t tell them—”

“Yes, you can, Susannah,” Father Dominic said. “I always thought it was wrong of you to keep your gift a secret from your mother all these years. It’s time you told her.”

“As if,” I said into the phone.

“Susannah,” Father D. said. “The insects were only the beginning. If this de Silva woman is taking demonic possession of your household, horrors such as…well, horrors such as you or I could never even imagine are going to begin—”

“Demonic possession of my household?” I gripped the phone tighter. “Listen, Father D., she may have got my boyfriend, but she is not getting my house.”

Father Dominic sounded tired. “Susannah,” he said. “Please, just do as I say. Get yourself and your family out of there, before harm comes to any of you. I understand that you are upset about Jesse, but the fact is, Susannah, that he is dead and you, at least for the time being, are still alive. We’ve got to do whatever we can to see that you remain that way. I will leave here now, but I’m a six-hour drive away. I promise I will be there in the morning. A thorough administration of holy water should drive away any evil spirits remaining in the house, but—”