Ghost Tracer Novels & Stories

“Got a contact in East Chinatown who watches magic fluctuations. I’ll follow the blood echoes.” “Keep it off-grid. If any of them catch scent of you—” “They won’t.” “They can’t.” Xalor’s laugh was sharp. “Relax, Perez. I’m a ghost’s ghost. Even Calix couldn’t trace me.” “Don’t say his name.” Silence. “Copy that,” he said. “You’ll get first update by morning.” He hung up. I stared at the screen for a long time. The city pulsed beyond my windshield.

Please don't let it rain. Pulling the hood over my head, I manage to push all my brown strands in so I can see where I'm going. Zack's grave is just over the hill and as I get closer, I see someone crouched next to a headstone, bracing themselves against the wind. My heart starts to pound in my chest. I can tell it's definitely him the closer I get. The man in the dark cloak. So much for preparing myself.

He muttered and smiled a sad one before walking out of the room; then, I went close to my body to look at it intently. "I felt his touch. I felt my father's hand holding mine!" I let out when I noticed the four ghosts who just passed through the wall on my right. They must have seen my father walking into my room. One of my new ghost friends is Ericka, who got here three weeks ago because of a motorbike accident, and Lucinda, a middle-aged woman who got a heart attack a month ago. "Really?" Clinton asked in surprise and examined my physical body closely, and Dylan tried to touch my left barefoot.

" Wow! It doesn't seem like she can see ghosts hmm. Yes she can see ghosts but she doesn’t want to tell to other people about that. "But you can see ghost duh!” I said with full of sarcasm. "Yep. If it's a real ghost, and are you scared in ghosts? Opps.. you’re a ghoster remember?" And my crazy friend laughed as if she wasn't a ghoster too. "Wow am I the only ghoster here? You too" I muttered to her. "Hmm Aeshe whats the feeling of being ghosted?” she asked me out of nowhere. "Did you see the guys who cry when we are leaving them? And to see a guy crying with just a week of flirting with them it would have been a lot of pain that it caused them to cry like that." I said to her.

"Would you spare my life if I do?" "Nope." Frank chuckled, shaking his head. "Not after the endless atrocities that The Ghosters committed. But I can make your death quick." "I…" Mr. Moore felt a chill down his spine. He certainly knew how many terrible things The Ghosters had committed in service of Ghost. Skinning and butchering another human was basically child's play! Nonetheless, Mr. Moore hung his head after clenching his jaw. "I-I'll tell you… Ghost is looking for a new body that's compatible with the power of the spiritron vein, because his has already… already…"

The sands of Marrakesh were warm, but the fire in Grace’s chest burned hotter. She stood before a digital map projected onto Cassian Black’s grimy warehouse wall, watching the red dots blink one by one. Each dot represented a Ghost Protocol server. Each dot meant another stolen life. Cassian, chewing a piece of dried fruit, pointed to a red pulsing one in Prague. “That’s your target,” he said. “The Black Vault.” Grace narrowed her eyes. “Why’s it blinking?”

“Don—you’re Ledger. Follow money from Saudi contractors to shell foundations to the idiot nephew who just bought a five-million-dollar townhouse for ‘study abroad.’ I want the human hand at the end of every wire.” Don’s smile was paper-thin. “My favourite game.” “Will—you’re Hands. Talk to ambos, ED triage nurses, morgue techs, not the press office. You’re looking for sudden spikes—panic attacks with tachycardia, sensory overload events, deaths coded as undetermined. The pill’s on the street; the street always talks before the reports do.” Will rose. “I’ll pack gum.” “Stacey,” Jack said, “you’re Ghost. You go under.”

Pale eyes, unreadable, but his gaze landed on Rhett like a hammer. “Leave him,” Ghost said to Grim, his voice gravel-deep. “This isn’t your lesson to teach.” Grim studied them both for a long beat, then gave a sharp nod and left, the door shutting behind him. Ghost stepped in, lighting a cigarette, the smoke curling in the dim light. “You killed him,” Ghost said simply. Not a question. A fact. Rhett didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Ghost exhaled smoke, his gaze unwavering. “I told you — once you take a life, it leaves a mark. You thought you could hide it from her, but you can’t. The broken ones? They see it clearer than anyone.”