The following free and complete story is a follow up of Specter Inspector: Dead and Back Again #1 (Barnes & Noble link). I HIGHLY recommend reading Specter Inspector BEFORE reading this short story as this occurs TWO WEEKS AFTER the events of the book.

Meaning, SPOILERS AHEAD.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s a link to the first book of the Dead and Back Again series, a paranormal mystery with elements of Noir, Cozy, and Professional Sleuth sub-genres.

Supposing you’ve read the book, I hope you enjoy the following complimentary story.

Morning came like a patient gumshoe, slowly creeping on his mark. Aeron’s ma was a no show at breakfast.

Aeron’s old man frowned and flicked his piercing peepers at me. “I talked with her last night,” he said to Aeron, “assuring her that your new friend is mostly harmless. Perhaps you can take her meal out to her.”

“Is she in the knight’s courtyard again?”

The marquis nodded something real grim.

Aeron grabbed his breakfast and extra helping of oats and fruits, and we marched off to the castle’s main entry courtyard. The kind of place where young knights trained with the kind of seriousness that only comes with the gratitude of keeping all their fingers. The air smelled like wet grass and testosterone. The knights sparred, stretched and practiced their stances like they were auditioning for a role in some war epic.

Aeron’s ma was out there too, stretching and preparing for war. She got a training dummy set up like she was about to take it down with a bag full of melee weapons. This dame made me hesitate to come close.

“Mom?” Aeron called out to her with a mix of hope and suspicion. “I brought you breakfast.”

She looked his way and first thing she did when she saw him? Smile. Then the worry hit her like a dark cloud.

“Is that thing with you?”

Always.

“Mom, can’t you think of Neil as just another one of my spirit friends?”

“Hah!” she barked a laugh, half amused, half incredulous. Catching herself, she got all polite-like and softened up. “I’m sorry, Aeron. I…”

She took the bowl of oats like some kind of peace offering and plopped down on the nearest bench. Didn’t eat, though. “You know I love you, right?”

Aeron sat next to her, and she hugged him like only a ma can. I wasn’t one for the sentimental, but something about that hug gutted me a little. Made me remember my own ma.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here, and I want you close, but…I still struggle to accept your normal ghosts that haunt your bedchamber.”

He sighed. “I know. That’s why my bedchamber was moved to the other side of the castle after the discovery of my ability.”

She cringed, but didn’t deny it.

“I understand,” Aeron said. “Being cautious saved you for all those years growing up in Horror. It’s part of who you are. You hear that, Neil?” he called out like I was two blocks away, not two meters. “It’s not personal. She hates all ghosts, not just you.”

She giggled and pushed him away like she’d had enough of the I-love-you,-ma routine.

They talked on about heavy topics—weapons, self-defense, the new batch of knights, and matters of the duchy—but with a light and casual air.

Just when I thought the day could actually end up ordinary, King Fromm—God of Conquest—floated by.

“Is it possible?” I asked. “Will she ever accept me?”

He scoffed. “She loathes all of us, yet there is more to it than simple hatred. When Aeron spoke of her tale, I slipped away to hear my grandson’s words with her in their chambers. Theodor reminded Pansy of the moments she spoke with love and gratitude toward those she calls Supernaturals. After dispelling the poltergeist’s spirit in Romance, she shared warm words with her dead brother. Then again when battling hordes of Hauntings in Horror, she called upon the spirits to glimpse into the spirit realm and recognize those fighting beside her. Yet still, she fears and hates her experiences of fighting us. She seeks solitude in her drawing room when wrestling with riddles of the mind. When preparing for a physical battle, she comes to the knight’s courtyard. Neil, she has practiced, sparred, and trained since meeting you.”

The old familiar squirm uneased my gut. Fighting Pansy was not exactly on my list of Things to Do Before I Fade Away. Sure, I had power in spades, but her? Even as a plain Jane, she’d busted up a more seasoned poltergeist with my same moves. No, Aeron’s ma would serve me a knuckle sandwich—extra crispy—and I’d be belly up before I could even ask for the check.

“However,” the king said, peeping at me, “you are in a rare position that none other can claim. Theodor can see your aura and the changes in your spirit. Also, you have the chance to offer peace offerings.”

What was this? Wait, hold up…

I made my way back into the castle, my link tugging on me the further away I went from Aeron. I slipped in and out of the stone walls until I found what I was looking for. With my items in hand, an open window and my link guided me back to Aeron and his ma in the knight’s courtyard. I crept up slowly, hoping to look like an olive branch, not an ambush.

The first one to notice me was Pansy—of course, with her history and reflexes. She grabbed for her holy water like it was a sword, and I could see her muscles tense like a cat ready to pounce.

Aeron wasn’t as quick. He followed her gaze and landed on me—or, well, the painted smile from Sam’s drawing room that I carried.

“It’s Neil,” he said. “It’s okay. He’s letting us know where he is. Did you have a message for us?”

Careful, like I was feeding an unsettled tiger by hand, I turned over the paper.

Aeron let out a laugh, the kind that said he thought my peace offering was either a stroke of genius or a cockeyed joke. Even I wasn’t sure at that point. 

“That thing met with Sam?” his ma asked.

“Yes, and she’s fine,” Aeron assured her.

To make sure the message was loud and clear, I pulled out a single flower from behind my message.

The marchioness didn’t share my optimism. She scrambled back into a defensive position faster than a cat dodging a broom.

“Mom, please stay calm. It’s just a flower.”

“It could be poisonous,” she said, suspicious.

Aeron scoffed. “You’d know better than I would if we had poisonous flowers in our own gardens.”

Shoot, was this flower poisonous? Did I grab the wrong one? Not like I had a botany degree, but I’d picked it for its name, hoping it’d show I wasn’t just a floating ethereal menace.

Pansy didn’t bolt or throw holy water in my face. That was progress, right? I floated closer, taking my sweet time like this was a slow dance, and carefully set the flower down on the bench where she’d sat.

She stared the kind of stare that said, “I’ll take this under advisement.” Then she grunted. “It’s not poisonous, but that doesn’t mean I’ll pick it up.”

“Oof,” Aeron chuckled. “Sorry, Neil. You offered a flower to a woman and got rejected. If it helps, she’s already married and isn’t the type to stray.”

I mentally tipped my hat to him for keeping things light as Pansy’s mouth twitched—a little humor slipped through the cracks.

“You’re serious about this? You trust him?”

“I do,” Aeron said, filling me with warmth. “From what I recall of my spiritual visit last night, I impressed him with tales of your Adventures and Hauntings. He respects you.”

With a breath like she was rewriting the past, she took a slow step forward. All careful-like, eyes locked on my painted smile, she reached out, and her fingers brushed the little purple flower.

“It’s a pansy,” she said.

Aeron and I smiled like we’d dodge a bullet—no, a missile.

“He’s trying to make peace,” Aeron said. “I don’t expect you to become friends today, but will you at least try?”

With all the grace of someone who’d been carrying the weight of a thousand battles, she took in a deep breath. Then, she flashed a small—but real—smile at my painting. “Thanks…I’ll try.”

Neil Vs. Pansy © 2025 by C. Rae D’Arc is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0