Page 37 of Twisted Fates
“That one hurt a little,” Cary said, rubbing his arms.
“Better safe than sorry. Wouldn’t you agree?” Damian asked, and Cary nodded.
“Indee—” He stopped before he got the word out. In front of us stood not just Orville, Alice, and Emma, but four other ghosts I’d never seen before. The other four were huge and slightly obscured from view.
Orville stepped forward, regarding Cary. “Why should we allow you in, witch? What guarantee do we have that you aren’t up to no good?”
“Orville,” Damian said, but the ghost ignored him.
Cary shook his head and, under his breath, said what sounded like “Ghosts.”
He reached up, pulled a necklace off, and handed it to Orville. “This is the only thing I have to demonstrate my intentions.”
I’d never seen Orville take something from the living, not me or Damian, but he took the necklace and held it away from him like it was a soiled baby’s diaper. He disappeared through the back wall, and several tense moments passed before he returned without the necklace.
“You may stay within this area, the entry, dining room, kitchen, and parlor.” He motioned toward the closed door to his right. “And, as Master Damian has requested, the powder room, but know this, you are being watched and will be watched the entire time you are here. If you try anything to harm the residents of this home, wewilldestroy you!”
“Orville,” Damian chastised again, but Cary just shook his head. “Your warning is understood. I promise to stay within my boundaries.”
I almost expected him to joke about ghosts watching him pee, but he didn’t move until all the ghosts dispersed.
“That went better than expected,” Cary said.
I didn’t expect all the ghosts to leave, but I could feel as much as see they were all gone. Even Orville had left us alone.
“What’s that all about?” I asked.
Cary didn’t respond, so I looked toward Damian. “I’m just understanding,” he said, glancing at Cary. “But let’s just saywitches and ghosts have a tenuous relationship, and,” he said, giving me a very stern eye, “let’s leave it at that.”
Cary nodded. “At least the parts of your home I can see are lovely. Tell me, who did your design?” he asked and laughed, clearly knowing the décor had happened magically.
Molly showed up shortly after the big standoff, and I was happy she’d missed it. I didn’t know her well, but I did know she wanted to understand the magical world more than she did. Too bad she couldn’t find out about her best friend being one of the world’s most powerful wizards.
Cary and Molly circled each other for about half an hour, but they’d found common ground by the time the pizza arrived. Of course, that common ground was some food truck, tarot card, mystic event thing that apparently drives around Seattle popping up in obscure yet fun areas.
I wondered how Molly would feel to find out Cary really was what she and her friends professed to be. I also wondered how she’d feel knowing the ghosts here thought of her the same way she and Cary did about fake fortune tellers.
I’d never tell; that was for sure. We moved things over to the parlor, which, to be honest, was a little odd since I rarely ever used it. The ghosts tended to keep that part of the house shut off. When Damian spent time down there, and not in his room in the attic, he did so in the music room or library, which, as far as I was concerned, was the most comfortable room in the house, although I probably felt that way because it was mostly my stuff in there.
Damian, when alone, usually hung out in the living room equivalent of the second floor, and I knew when he was there, he wanted to be alone. He didn’t even have to tell me. I just understood.
We were getting along perfectly for two people who’d been virtual strangers just a short time ago.
Would that last? I wondered. Damian reached over and squeezed my hand, making my heart fill with happiness. Cary instantly noticed and began making excuses to leave. “Thank you, Damian, and of course, Owen,” he said and turned to me, although I knew it was more for Damian's sake, “for inviting me over tonight. I won’t forget the honor of it.”
Molly seemed perplexed for a moment, then stood. “I’ll follow you out. I’ll just call for a taxi. Now that my free ride is gone,” she said but smiled at Damian.
“Why don’t you let me be your taxi bootie call tonight,” Cary said, and Molly laughed.
“Ugh, if only you were at least a little straight, that might be offensive. Although tempting,” Molly said and laughed as Cary all but pulled her out of the house.
“Bye, honeys,” Cary said once he got past the gate.
“Bye-bye,” Molly called, and Damian and I stood on the front porch laughing as they left.
When we went back in, the ghosts were still nowhere to be seen. “We should probably go on up. I’m guessing they won’t be coming out again tonight.”
“Mind explaining why?” I asked. Damian shook his head and led the way up to the attic. Once there, he sat on the chair beside his desk and pulled off his socks.
