Jin unlocked the front door of Mr. Beckett’s house, and the four of them trooped into the living room only to stop dead in their tracks. Sitting on the table propped up against one of the monitors was a doll, an old china doll complete with blonde curls, frilly dress, and beribboned bonnet.

“Was that there when you left?” asked Natalie.

Jin frowned. “No.”

“Do you think Mr. Beckett came back and left it there for us?”

Hayato snorted. Jin shot him a look.

“I don’t think that’s likely,” said Jin, turning back to Natalie, “but we can call him and find out.”

Jin pulled a cell phone from his pocket and looked up the number. Soon, Mr. Beckett was on the line. Jin put him on speaker.

“No,” he said. “No, I haven’t been back to the house. Why?”

“Just a routine question, Mr. Beckett.” Jin gave the others quelling looks to stop their comments and continued. “We want to be sure in case we find anything disturbed when we start our investigation today.”

“All right. Let me know if there’s anything you need from me.”

“Thank you. We will.”

“Actually,” interjected Natalie, ignoring Jin’s gesturing to keep quiet, “we were wondering if you knew anything about a doll.”

“A doll?”

“Yes. An old china doll. It’s got blonde hair, a long frilly dress, and a bonnet with ribbons on it.”

Mr. Beckett laughed. “Good Lord! Where did you dig that old thing up?”

Jin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You do know it then?”

“Of course I do. That was Mary’s, my late wife’s, favorite doll from when she was a child. She kept it with her all her life, through school and college, moving and marriage and kids.”

Jin and Hayato exchanged a significant look.

“I haven’t seen it since she died,” continued Mr. Beckett. “Where did you find it?”

Silence fell as Jin tried to come up with an answer that wasn’t the truth and wasn’t lying.

“It had fallen behind a bunch of old boxes,” said Natalie.

“Of course. Lot of old boxes around. I don’t keep the place as tidy as Mary did.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Well,” he continued a little too brightly, “was there anything else I can help with?”

“No, Mr. Beckett,” said Jin. “That’s all for now. Thank you very much. We’ll be in touch.”

After a few more pleasantries, the call ended. Jin tucked the phone back in his pocket.

“Okay,” said Natalie. “What was that look earlier?”

“What look?” asked Jin with an innocent expression.

“When Mr. Beckett mentioned that his wife had a doll like that, you two looked at each other. Why?”

Jin and Hayato looked at each other.

“Stop doing that! Just tell me.” Natalie crossed her arms and stared at the two men.

Lightning jumped up on the table and started investigating the doll.

“Perhaps we should sit,” said Jin gesturing toward the chairs. Natalie squinted at him, then settled in one of the armchairs, watching him all the while. Hayato flopped on the sofa, and Jin perched on the edge of the table.

“This may seem incredible to you,” began Jin.

“After what I saw last night?” laughed Natalie. “I don’t think so.”

Jin smiled ruefully. “Yes. Well. Ghosts are one thing. Most people are able to at least entertain the possibility of ghosts. Fewer are able to understand this.”

“Understand what?”

“That everything in this world has a… a spirit, for lack of a better word in this language.”

Natalie looked at him, puzzled. “Yes. And?”

Jin shook his head.

“I’m not sure you understand,” he said. “Not just people and plants and animals. Everything. Mountains and rivers and desks and books.”

Natalie nodded, waiting for the “incredible” part. Jin seemed taken aback by her lack of reaction.

“Everything in this world has a consciousness,” he continued. “An awareness. A life of its own.”

“Yes,” agreed Natalie. “I know.”

“You know?” Jin’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

Natalie nodded. “My grandmother taught me that when I was little.”

Hayato barked a laugh and pointed at Jin.

“I told you!” he crowed triumphantly.

Natalie frowned at him. “What? What are you talking about now?”

Hayato ignored her and settled back into the couch still smiling. Jin sighed a long-suffering sigh. Natalie got the feeling she wasn’t going to get an answer from them about this, so she moved on.

“What does the spirit thing have to do with the doll?” she asked.

“The doll was cherished for a lifetime,” said Jin, turning back to her. “Now, the person it felt a great bond with is gone. Vanished.”

“So, it’s… what? Trying to get revenge?”

Jin shook his head. “I’m not sure. I don’t know why it’s chosen to show itself like this.”

Lightning growled, pulling their attention back to the doll. Its head was turned in their direction. Natalie shrank back in her chair. She felt the doll’s gaze on her like a physical weight.

Jin sprang to his feet, holding his right hand out in front of him. He made a few specific gestures and uttered a string of sharp, short words. The doll leaped out of the way. It didn’t move like a person or an animal. It glided and soared sinuously, clothes fluttering in the wind of its wake.

Jin muttered a curse under his breath and ran to cut off the doll’s path of escape. Hayato stripped off his coat and sunglasses and took up a position opposite Jin, his body loose and poised to intercept the doll’s movement. The light of the sunset shone through the window, painting the doll’s smiling lips a lurid red and catching in the blue glass of its eyes — eyes that moved and watched, staring at Natalie with a wide, unblinking gaze.

Hayato had his dagger in hand again. It seemed to gather the light in the room so that it shone like a comet, growing longer until it reached the size of a short sword. The doll swung toward him. He slashed at it, moving like liquid lightning. Jin chanted, his hands moving in complicated formations, the silver cuffs on his ears glowing with an eldritch blue light.

Laughter swirled through the room on the wings of a growing wind as the doll deftly evaded their attacks. Lightning sprang into action. He seemed larger than ever as he shot around the room, countering the doll’s movements.

Natalie could only watch helplessly as the four battled.

In Hayato’s hands, the blade danced, slashing and spinning. His eyes blazed blue in the growing darkness, and white sparks crackled off his necklace and bracelets. Jin was still chanting. He had moved from one side of the room to the other in the fight, but his eyes never left the doll.

Drawers slammed open and closed on their own. In the kitchen, the cabinet doors did the same, adding their banging to the growing howl of wind and laughter.

Natalie felt like a vise was squeezing her lungs. A storm of emotion stole her breath. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Every muscle of her body thrummed with tension, desperate to do something. But what? What could she possibly do?

A thought struck her.

Bait.

She could be bait. Draw the doll’s attention, even for a moment. Give the others an opening.

Natalie stepped forward and called out. “Hey! Over here!”

“Idiot girl!” yelled Hayato, the rhythm of his sword unbroken. “What are you doing?”

Jin’s chanting created a steady, percussive background punctuated by his complicated gestures. He caught Natalie’s eyes with his own and tried to indicate she should stay back.

Natalie ignored both of them.

“I’m here!” she called. “You wanted me. Come and get me!

The doll stopped, hovering near the ceiling. It turned slowly, then dove for Natalie. Hayato lunged and swung at it. It spun lightly in the air, neatly dodging his blade. Jin had nearly made a complete circuit of the room.

Natalie jumped backward, too late. The doll slammed into her stomach knocking her down. It scurried up her body and stared into her eyes, bringing one ceramic hand up to touch her face, plunging Natalie into a raging darkness.