Page 18 of Ghost
That… jerk!Using his psychology magic to do things. He’d never know if I was good at poker or not, because now I’d never play with him in this lifetime.
I pulled away from his warm embrace and turned to face him. “How would you know what my face looked like anyway, you weren’t even looking at me.”
“There’s body language too, you know. And your body is so very expressive. Did you know that even the most minuscule twitch of a muscle can tell a story?” Damen smirked, stepping closer to me. His finger touched my cheek. “And I have every intention on becoming fluent in the way that you speak. I’ve been working on it already. I believe I’ve been doing rather well, actually.”
My mind screamed in both horror and embarrassment. But mostly horror.What was he saying? It was so… so…
Ridiculous.
Hehadto be testing my resolve. There was no other explanation for this over-the-top behavior. He couldn’t actually be flirting with me. No self-respecting woman would fall for such terrible lines.
How long would this go on? If I failed, would I be kicked out of the group? I hadn’t been with them very long, but they were nicer friends than Finn had been. It would be devastating to fail because my heart lurched every time one of them flirted with me.
I would only have to get better.
“Oh, come on, you lovesick fool.” Mr. Weaver’s chastising voice cut through my thoughts. “Stop your dilly-dallying with the Abernathy spawn. There’s pork to be examined. You can do whatever foolish girly thing you want afterwards.”
Although Damen couldn’t hear his words, it still didn’t stop the heat from flooding into my face. My headache returned with a vengeance, blinding me with pain. I turned to Mr. Weaver, unable to stop the annoyance in my voice. “Will you stop being so mean to me? Why can’t you justgo away?”
Pain exploded though my skull, causing a white light to spike in my vision. All senses faded. When I came back to myself, and was able to process what was happening, I found myself crouched on all fours beside Damen.
Puking my guts out.
“Bianca!” As my barfing slowed, Damen’s arm closed around my shoulders as he held me steady against him. He sounded distraught, and a bit unsure of what to do. Evident in his clumsy, but very sweet, attempts at wiping my mouth with a cloth handkerchief.
I barely blinked as he pulled me into his arms, sitting cross-legged on the ground. I had no energy to think for the moment, except maybe to wonder what he thought aboutthisbody language. He didn’t remark on it negatively though, and his voice was soothing as he rocked and cradled me against him. “Baby, don’t worry. It’ll be alright. You’re okay now. I’ll take care of it.”
Baby?
I wondered what happened to my other nickname. But I couldn’t argue with him about it, the man was now well acquainted with my bodily fluids. That kind of bond had a way of breaking down barriers.
Then the last part of his statement registered. He’d take care of what?
It was then the now-familiar presence reached my senses, along with the sounds of grumbled cursing.
The shiki-whatever was, in its flamboyant glory, apparently protecting us from Mr. Weaver. Even Mr. Weaver didn’t seem to be afraid of the bird. Nor was he very surprised to see it. Instead, he gazed at it with an expression of forced patience.
Noticing I was watching him, Mr. Weaver frowned. “Are you quite finished with making a fool of yourself, or should I wait even longer?”
The bird shifted, and Damen’s arms tightened around me. “Don’t talk to her like that!”
My focus returned to Damen. “I thought you said that you couldn’t see ghosts?”
His attention snapped back to me, the furious glint gone from his gaze as our eyes locked. “I can’t, not without help. The types of ghosts that you normally interact with reside on a different realm than what I am accustomed. But Kasai can see them, and if he’s residing on this realm then I can also see.”
So, the bird had a name.
“How does that work?” I wondered. “Why don’t you just do it all the time then?”
“That’s not important at the moment.” His mouth thinned. “What have you been arguing with Caleb about? Has he been causing trouble?”
I wondered how I could explain the issues with Mr. Weaver without sounding like a tattletale. It felt stupid. “Well…”
“You don’t need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable. I’ve already heard stories, from a reputable source. I can only imagine what kind of garbage you’ve been exposed to.” Damen refocused his attention back to his animal companion. “Kasai, how are you feeling about some exorcism this evening?”
Mr. Weaver made an offended sound, but it was the bird that caught my attention. At Damen’s request he had craned his long, elegant neck until he was looking directly at us. At me. As if he was noticing me for the first time.
As creepy as it was, I also couldn’t look away. It almost felt as though he was judging me. Thinking as a human might. It was more than a bit disconcerting.
