Page 111 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
Adistractionmight actually be the answer.
Lucky grinned at him, a new plan suddenly coming together with ease. “Interesting. I’m thinking it might be time for a little experiment.”
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Lucky wondered if Xander’s intuition sensed her plan brewing around him. She needed to find a way to make it worth his while again, and had the beginnings of an idea to start with. “Whew, oh gosh, it’s sohot.I should open the window or something.” She began fanning herself, wiping her brow, and visualizing how it felt to overheat.
Behind them, the top half of the Dutch door swung open. A barely there summer breeze drifted into the room and clung to her clammy skin—her dreaded anticipation sweats had begun.
Xander stared with an uneasy look in his eyes, mouth as ajar as the door. He swallowed hard, reigning himself back in. “That’s quite the development.”
“We’re connected now. Prolonged exposure strengthened our psychic bond. During the day while it’s dormant-reactive, it kindly responds to my wants, my moods. I also think the house has a sense of humor.” She’d been holding on to this discovery like a secret weapon. Good thing, too. She held up her hands tomime the motion as she spoke. “This strange buoyant pressure starts vibrating the air. Belly laughs.”
His expression morphed into a neat mix of horrified and fascinated. “What does it laugh at?”
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “We’re still working on effective two-way communication. It took some time to realize it doesn’t respond to words so much as images while in daytime house mode. I spoke out loud for your sake, but I was thinking about being hot. Picturing how it feels in my mind and what would help me.”
“Helpyou?” he asked slowly.
She nodded. “This might sound shocking, but Hennessee isn’t calm during the daybecauseit’s dormant-reactive. It’s downright friendly. It’skind—I can feel it wanting to be a gracious host and it costs me nothing to do it.”
Xander’s brow furrowed as he processed what she’d said. “If that’s true, and to be clear I believe you, why does its behavior shift so drastically at sunset?”
“Sunrise too. It’s truly tied to night and day. I’m missing…something. I know I am.” She bit her thumbnail, genuinely puzzled. “Even communicating at night is on the opposite end of the spectrum. Speaking to specters uses anincredibleamount of energy. Did it feel that way for you?”
“Always.”
A feeling of kinship, unspoken and profound, passed between them. It linked them together as the last standing caretakers of Hennessee House.
“Stop me if you get confused,” she began. “Hennessee makes a connection with someone’s mind. It usestheirmemories to create a specter and gains the ability to speak, courtesy of thatconnection. It’s a loop. Hennessee needs access to language if it wishes to communicate verbally. Does that make sense?”
His eyes tightened, but he said, “Please continue.”
“Once the loop is established and a specter is created, it’s almost like it uses catchphrases, saying the same things over and over. If it can’t use or mimic conversations from your memory, it’ll try to speak on its own,butit can’t do it for long. It’ll slip right back into specter-character.”
Until she pushed it too far. It was still too soon to tell him about that part.
“You are”—he paused, shaking his head—“moving at an astonishing pace.”
“It’s hard, tiring work and objectively wonderful,” she said, smiling for a moment before slowly letting it fade. “It’s great. Having the time of my life.”
“At the moment it sounds like anything but.” He picked up on her tone change, falling right into her trap.
“You’re mistaken,” she said, softly miserable. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“I suspected as much.” Xander stood and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of dark brown alcohol from the cabinet. He poured and handed her one.
Lucky accepted it and asked, “You don’t eat cookies, but you drink alcohol?”
“I never said I didn’t eat cookies.”
“You snubbed Rebel’s macarons.”
“No, I didn’t. You seem to need them more than I do. I was being thoughtful.” He raised his glass. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” She downed the drink and almost choked to death. “What is that?” she sputtered, throat seizing up.
“You’re supposed to sip it,” he snapped.
