Page 11 of Ghost
Alarm raced through my system as realization slammed into me.
This feeling of unease. I usually attributed it to anxiety, which was a thing I had gotten so used to over the years. But that wasn’t it either.
I had been so distracted by Damen’s… Damen, that I had missed the most obvious thing of all.
“What are you doing on my lawn?”
I froze, still on my hands and knees on the hard ground. Perhaps I was imagining this. Sure, it felt like a spirit might be nearby. But perhaps it was only a neighbor, who happened to share the same fenced in yard as the deceased.
It was possible.
But my hopes were dashed, and my stomach dropped, when I glanced over my shoulder to spot the disgruntled man floating above the porch.
Maybe I could still get out of this. If I played along, I could leave before I ever had to say a word. I couldn’t do this. Communication was not my strongest suit. “I—”
“I asked you a question, girl.” The man hobbled off the patio, limping toward me. From his gait, it became even more clear he hadn’t realized he was deceased. “Aren’t you going to answer? Speak quickly.”
My panicked thoughts tried to piece together a believable excuse. What was a good reason to intrude on a person’s property? Something that definitely didn’t involve the word ‘death’.
But he kept talking, not even giving me a chance to speak. “Or are you not answering because you’re that daft?”
“I’m really sorry?” I blurted the first semi-polite thing that popped into my head. After all, my first priority was to keep the man calm. So perhaps an apology would help.
He came to a stop five feet from me, bracing himself with his ghostly-cane. “Was that a question, or a pathetic attempt at an apology? That doesn’t answer my question. Why are you here, intruding on my property? You’re lucky I don’t have my rifle on me. Get out of here.”
I could leave. I could do that. I’d walk around to the front of the house, and then sneak back inside and grab Damen. If he thought I was about to pass out from hunger, then surely he would understand.
I began to push myself from the ground when the man’s nasally voice stopped me mid-motion.
“No,” he snapped. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m tired of you vandals breaking into my property. I’m calling the police.”
Chapter Five
Bianca
Touch
Iwasn’t certain, but I was sure him trying to call the police was probably a bad idea. In fact, it might even be one of the worst things for a newly formed ghost to do. Well, outside of a bunch of other things, but that was beside the point. The point was, there was no way he wouldn’t figure out something was amiss when he tried to pick up the phone… and failed.
The security of my well-thought-out plan crumbled around me. If he went inside then he’d see the law enforcement professionals already present in his home. There would be no way he’d not figure out he was dead.
When that happened, chaos would result. Ghostly tantrums. Animal sacrifices. Blood writing on the walls…
The man turned toward the house, preparing to report me to the authorities and send me to prison for life. I wondered if he was cursing me in his head as well.
It didn’t matter. If he wasn’t already doing it, then—gosh darn it—he would be in a minute. Because, like it or not, it was becoming more and more obvious I was going to have to break the unpleasant news.
But before that, I had to keep him there with me. I couldn’t allow Damen to face the wrath of an angry ghost. I wasn’t certain what Damen could actually see in terms of the paranormal, but I didn’t get the impression that a regular ghost was visible to him.
If this man went inside and threw a fit, Damen would be blindsided. And gosh…
Even though he caused my heart to race and enjoyed saying weird things, I really would rather not have the ceiling collapse onto his head.
The likelihood was low—I would admit. Spirits were everywhere, and most people never even knew. I was sure it was common for a spirit to realize their death at a crime scene.
Probably.
So perhaps Damen was used to this. Could he be expecting paranormal chaos? How many dead bodies must he have seen in his career? He didn’t smell like a person who hung around corpses all day, but I supposed it made sense. A family group of paranormal investigative monks probably spent a lot of time dealing with the deceased.
