Witching Hour Read Online Free PDF Page A

Moonlight gleamed through the far window, casting a dull glow throughout the room. A few pieces of furniture were stacked along one wall, thick layers of dust covering the dark wood.
    She walked over to a small table, drawn to a shadowed silhouette on the left side of it. Smooth leather greeted her fingers as she shifted the object over, positioning it in the center of the table. A cold breeze rustled her hair and she jerked her head around, scanning the room for movement. More shadows stared back at her, and she shivered as she shook the unsettling feeling away, focusing on the book.
    Dust covered the surface, the thick layer blocking out any kind of decorations or print. She lowered her head and blew some of the dust away, waving her hand when it billowed into the air. Though it was hard to distinguish, she was able to make out a few raised letters on the volume.
    “Winslow.”
    The name echoed through the room, the last syllable lingering longer than normal. She glanced around again then turned back, brushing the remaining grime off the front. An intricate square occupied the upper corner, the distinctive W decorated with vines and leaves. She traced her fingertips across the raised letter, marveling in each tiny swirl and dip. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen workmanship like this, not on a cover, and she couldn’t help but wonder how old it was.
    Jordan set the flashlight on the table, illuminating the book as she carefully untied the strap holding the pages closed. The leather felt smooth with a hint of smoke infused in the material. She eased back the cover, gently pressing it down as she tried to read the words penned across the yellowed page.
    “ Ab igne novo ordine, resurgent. ”
    She repeated the words in her head, wishing she’d paid more attention in school. It had something to do with resurrection, but other than that, she’d have to look up the damn inscription to fully understand its meaning.
    She moved her fingertip down the page, trying to decipher a number of faded drawings when she brushed over another raised pattern. Unlike the decorative letters on the cover, this felt soft. She moved the flashlight closer, drawing a deep breath as the image glared back at her, the outline traced in wax.
    “A pentagram.” She frowned. “An upside-down pentagram. Damn.”
    While Latin wasn’t her strong suit, there was no mistaking the connotation of the symbol, or that she’d likely stumbled upon something far more dangerous than the average ghost. She closed the cover and studied the front again. Whatever this book was, she doubted anything good had ever come from it.
    Jordan retied the leather straps and positioned the book in the center of the table again, aware that she might have found the first concrete clue to unraveling her brother’s death. But how was she supposed to study the contents when she didn’t even know if she’d get permission to return?
    “Nice going, Jordan. After all this time, you’re actually turning into nothing more than a thief.”
    She sighed. She’d do her investigation, hopefully gather some other evidence—then she’d simply take the volume out to her car where she’d have enough light to take photographs of the pages with her phone. And she’d be sure to put the damn thing back exactly where she’d found it.
    “Yeah, right in the middle of the creepy attic.”
    She shook her head, turning to the window when an echoing gong drifted through the air. She froze, listening to the odd sound repeat over and over, wondering what the hell it was when the answer popped into her head. A grandfather clock. Midnight.
    She groaned inwardly, praying the property management company didn’t have security guards on retainer as she moved around the room, flashing the light on the other shadowed mounds. She asked questions as she went, hoping her recorder would pick up some replies as she searched every inch, finally stopping again as she stared at the window. Though