Body & Soul (Ghost and the Goth Novels) (12 page)

Wait.
I sat up straight in my chair. “Are you saying she haunts people to drive business?”

“Only when we need the money,” he said defensively. “And it keeps her busy.”

Jesus.
Pieces of this began to fall into place. Misty thinking Alona was haunting her. The letter/coupon that his testimonials had mentioned. “You send Erin out to haunt someone if they know someone who died recently?”

“Depends on what the newspaper says,” he mumbled.

And Misty had probably been featured prominently in the articles about Alona’s tragic, untimely death, as her distraught best friend.

“What, like, if they have money?” Misty didn’t have money, but it wouldn’t take much research to figure out her parents were probably doing okay.

He didn’t respond, just shifted his weight awkwardly.

“And then once you’ve scared them, you send them that stupid letter and coupon, bringing them right to your door.” It was brilliant. And utterly creepy.

“Do you think this is fun for me?” he demanded. “I’d have a regular job if I could, but she won’t let me! Besides, it’s not your problem anymore,” he said pointedly. “As soon as Erin gets back, we’re leaving, remember?”

So they could inflict this scam on innocent people in some other town? No way. Not if I could stop it. “Where is Erin, anyway?” If she couldn’t stand to go a minute without being heard or seen by a living person, as he claimed, then she’d been gone for a while now.

He grimaced. “I couldn’t tell her we were leaving. It…it would upset her. She’s out visiting clients.”

“You mean, she’s haunting people.” I shook my head in disgust. “I can’t believe I was feeling sorry for you, and you’re—” I stopped, struck by a horrible, awful thought.

“Who is she ‘visiting’ today?” I asked, forcing the words out, caught in the inescapable conclusion that I could see barreling toward me.

He appeared taken aback by the intensity in my voice. “I…I don’t know.”

I stood up and shoved him against the shelving. “Think!”

“We don’t have that many on the line right now,” he said, his voice shaking. “Just Mrs. Baxter, the guy who owns the dry cleaner’s, and the girl.”

Misty.
Which was exactly where Alona happened to be at this particular moment.
Damn it.
If Erin tried to claim “Ally,” that would be bad. I didn’t know what would happen. It would be worse, though—much worse—if Erin figured out what made Ally so different. A powerful ghost who wanted nothing more than to be alive again in the presence of a body she knew was currently occupied by a spirit?

Not good.

I let go of Malachi/Edmund and ran for the back door. “You stay here,” I called to him over my shoulder. “We’re not done yet.”

I just hoped the same could be said for Alona and Lily.

“I
figured you wouldn’t be able to stay away,” the blurry spot continued. It took a second for the full implication of her words to sink into my brain. She recognized me. She
knew
.

My breath caught in my throat.

Up until now, I’d been assuming whoever was pretending to be me to haunt Misty was someone who’d decided to take advantage of “Alona’s” absence to have a little fun at “her” expense, maybe a ghost from the list who’d gotten pissed at something I had (or had not) done for them.

But this…this was not that. This spirit, whoever she was, obviously knew exactly who I was. She’d been waiting for me. Me, as in Alona Dare.

Crap.

“Took you long enough, though,” the ghost said. “Listening to those two jabber on all night was almost enough to make me want to kill myself again.”

Movement at the top of the blurry spot gave the suggestion of someone tossing her hair in disgust. In fact, if I squinted hard enough, I could almost make out a face in the haze before me. God, this would be so much easier if I could
see
her.

“Not that I killed myself in the first place,” she added. “Whatever. You know what I mean.” She waved dismissively. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. A smaller piece of the blurry area moved in a half arc.

I shook my head, my brain whirling with possibilities. Will was the only one who knew what had happened with Lily’s body. So who was
she
? Someone who’d eavesdropped on Will and me and heard too much? Her voice didn’t sound at all familiar, so she couldn’t be someone I’d talked to on a regular basis.

But more important, what did she want? I was afraid I didn’t want to know. You don’t go to this much trouble to set up a power play without a really good reason.

I swallowed hard against the rapidly developing pit of dread in my stomach.

“What is it?” Misty whispered. “You see something, don’t you?”

I’d almost forgotten about her in the room behind me. “Misty, go downstairs,” I said over my shoulder as calmly as I could. “I’ll handle this.”
How
, exactly, I wasn’t quite sure, and for the first time I wished Will was here. Not that he could have done anything, but he definitely had more experience with being defenseless in the presence of ghosts and might have had some tips. But with or without Will, one thing was certain: I couldn’t have Misty up here listening to me as I tried to talk to this…faker.

“But what if you need me?” she persisted. “What if she wants to talk to me? She was my friend.”

“Oh, how sweet,” the ghost purred, oozing closer.

My pulse spiked, and I backed up, giving the ghost room to exit the bathroom. I didn’t know who she was or what she wanted, which was bad enough. But if it turned out that my presence gave her physicality—you know, like the ability to
hurt
me—that would be much, much worse. I didn’t know for sure if I had that aspect of the ghost-talking “gift,” but now didn’t strike me as a particularly good time to find out.

“If I need you, I’ll call you,” I said to Misty. “Just go, please.” I dared another glance back to make sure she was listening. Figuring out what was going on and who this was would be tough enough without worrying about blowing my cover.

With an unhappy expression, Misty started for the hall but stopped to linger in the doorway.

I gritted my teeth. “Seriously? I’m trying to do my job here.” Or at least pretend to, anyway. But I was rapidly losing patience with Misty and her softheartedness. True, she had no idea what was really going on, but even so, this ghost had been haunting her, terrifying her for who knew how long, and she wanted to hang around and have a chat?

“I know,” Misty said. “But I just wanted to say…Alona, for what it’s worth, I am sorry.” With pleading in her eyes, she addressed a spot high on the wall above the bathroom door. How tall, exactly, did she think my ghost would be? “I shouldn’t have done that to you, no matter how Chris and I felt about each other. And I would have told you eventually. I was just afraid that you would be so angry.…” She trailed off and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her thumbnail. “I didn’t want to lose you as my friend. I was selfish. I wanted you both. I never wanted to hurt you, and I’m even sorrier I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before. I hope you can forgive me.”

I stared at her, stunned. There it was. The apology I’d been waiting months to hear but never expected to receive.

Misty took a deep breath and nodded, more to herself than to me, and walked out, her steps lighter, as if having said the words had cleansed her in some way or lifted a weight from her.

“Such devotion. It’s adorable,” the ghost drawled. “She’s been so upset lately.”

I whipped around to face her, reinvigorated suddenly. She was not Alona Dare. I was, no matter who I looked like. She shouldn’t even
be
here, and that apology was not for her. “Shut up,” I snarled.

“So much hostility,” she said with an amused gasp. But she still moved back slightly, proving she wasn’t as tough as she thought she was.

“You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get my attention. What do you want?” I folded my arms, though I supposed any effort to make Lily look fierce was probably wasted. She was too cute, scar and all.

The ghost laughed. “What, Misty? That’s just business.”

Which meant what, exactly? “What do you want?” I repeated. The more she dragged this out, the worse it was going to be. I could feel it hanging above my head, like the proverbial piano on a fraying rope.

The blur edged closer, and I caught a glimpse of dark red hair and brown eyes before the particles reshifted into a messy, undefined swirl. Was my ghost vision finally improving? That would be nice…or not.

“I’m here to make you an offer that is going to rock your world,” she said.

“Please.” I rolled my eyes, angry at her for playing me and at myself for falling for it. I’d walked right into her trap, and now I was stuck. She knew who I was, and the only thing stopping her from blabbing it all over the undead world was her own greed. She wanted something. The only question was what.

Actually, no, that wasn’t the only question. Would I be able to do what she wanted? That was a good one. I wasn’t Will. I was blind in this world and limited by a far less flexible situation at my current home. I couldn’t go traipsing off to strange places, alone, in the middle of the night.

And here was the big question. What was she planning to do if I couldn’t give her what she wanted?

My stomach ached at the thought. If word got out about me, I’d be flooded by ghosts, not only with final requests and messages but also with questions about how I’d done what I’d done with Lily—Body Wrangling 101. Like I had any satisfactory answers on that topic other than, “It just happened.”

Regardless of my knowledge—or lack thereof—the results would be the same. Eventually, I wouldn’t be able to hide my “issues” from the Turners. And those rehab center brochures would lead to applications and being shipped off to Arizona or some other godforsaken place…if not worse. Will’s mom had once come very close to having him institutionalized. In a neat little twist of fate, I could end up facing the same situation.

“Can we skip the buildup and cut to the part where you get to the point?” I snapped, fighting the urge to move farther away from her. I refused to give her the satisfaction.

“I’m going to be your spirit guide,” she said in a rush. “And we are going to rule this in-between place.”

I opened my mouth with an automatic “forget it” hanging on the tip of my tongue…and stopped.
What?
That was not the blackmail scheme I’d been expecting. It didn’t sound like a blackmail scheme at all, actually. It was…I didn’t know what it was.

I shook my head, confused. “What did you say?” I had to have heard her wrong.

“You’re a ghost-talker. You need a spirit guide. I’m it,” she said, her voice full of pride.

Wait…what?
I started to speak but stopped myself before trying again. “You think I’m a ghost-talker?” I asked in disbelief. No way. Did she actually think I was a regular—well, relatively speaking—ghost-talker?

“We’re having this conversation, aren’t we?” she scoffed.

I resisted the urge to laugh in giddy relief. Could I have really gotten it that wrong? She did seem to know me, though. How was that possible?

I hesitated, and then finally asked, “How do you know me?” What did I have to lose? If she knew I was Alona Dare in another body, she’d have said so, probably in a scathing tone. If she didn’t, it would still be a reasonable question for me to ask as a run-of-the-mill ghost-talker.

She rolled her eyes. “Figures that you weren’t paying attention yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” I asked with a frown. She’d seen me yesterday? Where had I been that she would…

Oooh! Malachi’s.
It had to be. She was one of the angry ghosts in that faker’s office, that was all. She’d noticed my intense interest in Misty’s problems and bet on the fact that I’d follow up, giving her the chance to propose this spirit-guide idea. Smart.

Now it all made sense. It was laughable, knowing what I knew, but I could see how she’d arrived here, both physically and with her logic.

With that final piece of the puzzle in place, a huge weight of worry rolled off my chest. I let out a slow breath of relief. She honestly had no clue. I was just another ghost-talker to her, not a living dead girl, so to speak.

“Look, I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said firmly. It was, in fact, a ridiculous idea. I was a spirit trapped inside a body, the last person in the world qualified to have a spirit guide. If she attempted to claim me as her ghost-talker, I was almost positive it wouldn’t work. But explaining that was kind of out of the question.

“You think I can’t do it? You think I’m not worthy?” Her tone held a challenge, and I caught a glimpse of a stubbornly pointed chin in the swirling haze where her face would likely have been.

I shook my head and put my hands out, palms up in a gesture of peace. “No, that’s not it at all.”

“Because you don’t know me, you don’t know what I’m capable of. I get what I want. Always,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Whoa. That sounded very familiar, like something I would have said not so long ago. If she, whoever she was, had even half my stubbornness, let alone a similar temper…

A faint warning bell sounded in the back of my head. “I can still help you,” I said quickly. Well, Will could, assuming we could get back on speaking terms. “You just need to need to stay calm and—”

“Do not tell me to stay calm,” she said through clenched teeth. “This is not up to you.”

Oh, not good. Spiraling out of control here.
“Uh, okay, look, it’s totally not a reflection on you or anything,” I said in my best attempt at soothing. If she got angry enough, we might yet find out if she could shove me around or not.

The blur straightened up, almost as if she were coming to attention. The first trickle of real fear climbed up my gut, along with the urge to run. I took a slow step back.

“I claim you, ghost-talker,” she declared.

I gaped at her. Seriously? Was there a spirit orientation class—Dealing with Ghost-talkers—that I’d somehow missed? How did she know what to say when I’d just sort of fallen into it? Clearly she’d done her research. This didn’t bode well.

“Wait!” I said quickly. Just because I didn’t
think
it would work didn’t mean I was actually right. I’d been wrong more times recently than I cared to remember. “Don’t—”

“You are mine and mine alone,” she finished in that same overly loud and formal tone.

My eyes snapped shut out of instinct. Holding my breath, I found myself waiting with dread for the supernatural breeze that had marked my connection to Will.

But the room around us remained silent and still except for the dull roar of the central air-conditioning kicking on outside.

Huh.

I opened my eyes slowly. No supernatural breeze, and I didn’t
feel
any different. Guess maybe I was right…this time.

I laughed, more out of relief than triumph. Okay, maybe there was a little triumph in it. It felt good to score one in my column for a change instead of everyone else’s.

“What the hell?” the ghost demanded.

I grimaced. So much for relief. I might not be tied to this ghost as a ghost-talker, but she was still here, and she’d still have to be dealt with.

I took a deep breath, steeling my patience. “Like I said, I don’t think it’s a good idea to—”

“Two of you? How can it not work on either one of you? That makes no sense.” The ghost sounded distinctly put out.

“—try to claim me,” I said, and then stopped, her words finally penetrating. “Two of us?” I asked, hearing the deadly chill in my voice. “You tried this on someone else?”

“Of course.” She didn’t even hesitate in answering, too preoccupied and annoyed to notice my tone. “Like you were my first choice. I’d never even heard about you before yesterday.” The ghostly haze shrugged. “Other than rumors that the ghost-talker in the ’burbs had a missing spirit guide and was neglecting his duties, spending all his time with some new living chick, which must be
you
.”