Deception (25 page)

“No, no,” I said. “Like this.”

I stepped in front of him, my back to his bare chest. I felt the heat rising off his body, making me woozy as I grabbed his hand.

He pressed closer, our bare skin touching. “Oh, you mean like this …” He crossed his arm over mine, locking me in his embrace, and executed the move perfectly, with more style and flair than I’d shown.

“Um …” I could barely breathe.

He flipped my hair over my shoulder. “I miss your short hair.”

“Why? I’m growing it out.”

“Because I like the back of your neck,” he whispered against it.

Goose pimples ran down my spine. I turned in his arms to face him, nothing between us but the thinnest silk.

“If only,” he said, “we could stay here forever.”

The air was electric with that pre-kiss knowingness. My head felt light and my skin warm. I dropped my sword and slipped my arms around him as he bent his head toward mine.

And we were back.

Back in real time. In the real ballroom, wearing our normal clothes. Well, if you considered a bathrobe normal.

He didn’t kiss me.

The moment was over. He closed his eyes briefly and let out a long breath.

“I wish things were different,” Bennett said. “That we’d met some other way. That you were just a normal girl and I … Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

“Does it?” I asked. “Stay here tonight. With me.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice rough.

“I don’t want to be alone. Please.”

“You can’t know how much I want to, but
—
”

“Bennett … I need you. You’re the only one who understands all this. Who understands me.” I couldn’t let him pretend that there wasn’t something between us. I held my hand to him. “Stay.”

He took my hand and we stood there for a long moment, silent and intense, the air filled with longing. Then he led me upstairs.

Just inside the doorway of his attic bedroom, he stopped. “I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” I asked.

He ran a finger along my collarbone, exposed by my open robe. “About you.”

“Bennett,” I whispered. “Do whatever you
—
”

“What’s this?” he said, his voice suddenly sharp.

I blinked at his tone. “I
—
”

He pulled my mother’s amulet from under my robe. “What the hell
is
this, Emma?”

I shook my head.

“Where’d you get it?” he demanded.

“In
—
in my mother’s jewelry box.”

“How long have you been wearing it?” He dropped the amulet like it had scalded him. “The whole time. The whole time you were here. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d overreact and think my mom’s guilty. I had to protect her.” Maybe she wasn’t the best mom in the universe and I couldn’t understand why she had sent me to the poof, but she was still my mom. Despite the incriminating evidence, I couldn’t believe she was guilty. Even if she was, I’d wanted to know the truth before I turned over the amulet to Bennett or the Knell.

“Protect
her
?” Bennett said. “How about protecting yourself? Why do you think the Knell hasn’t dragged you off? Because I gave them my word that you’re not involved.”

“I’m not
—
and neither is my family.”

“Emma, you have no idea
—
this could be the key to the murders. Don’t you want to find who killed Martha?”

“I know who killed Martha. It was Neos. Why don’t you ever trust me?”

“Because you do things like
this
! You think I understand you, but I don’t. I don’t understand why you keep things from me. I don’t understand all your power. And, God knows, I don’t understand why I keep trying to protect you.”

Then I started yelling, and he started yelling back. Loudly enough that Anatole, Celeste, and Nicholas came to investigate, shimmering into being in the hallway.

Finally, I said, “Get out.”

“It’s my house, Emma.”

“I don’t care,” I said. “They’re my ghosts. My family. You can’t even talk to them.” Which was a cruel thing to say.

He clenched his jaw. “Give me the amulet.”

I clasped my hand over it. “No.”

“Emma, there are ghostkeepers in the Knell who can read objects. They’ll know what to do.”

“Bennett, I’m one of those ghostkeepers. Don’t you think
I
would know if there was anything to read?”

“Maybe.” His look was suspicious.

“You don’t think I’d tell you.” I unclasped the gold chain and gave him the amulet. “Fine. Take it. I have nothing to hide.”

27

I woke in a sweat, the dampness of my skin mingling with a fading mildew scent from a dream. A nightmare. I huddled under the covers, back in my old room at the museum.

I’d stood at the window last night, waiting for Bennett to leave after we’d fought. He didn’t, not for an hour. An hour in which I’d paced the room, wondering what he was doing and whether he’d come back to apologize.

He hadn’t.

I’d watched from the window as he’d climbed into his ancient Land Rover and pulled away. He hadn’t even glanced up at my room. I’d thrown myself onto the bed and wept.

Then I’d closed my eyes and fallen into the dream:

I walked through a graveyard at dawn, the sun still trapped below the horizon. There was the crunch of gravel echoing in the stillness as I passed ancient gravestones with etched names that were faded and indecipherable.

Then I reached the tomb.

It was carved of granite, with black iron gates and grotesque statues in a semicircle around the front. A thousand whispers spoke my name, and I shivered in terror.

Then a portly man with a baseball cap walked past me. I’d never seen him before, but his eyes shone with the same terror I felt. His motions were confused and jerky and
compelled
. But he wasn’t a ghost.

He stopped at the gates and bony fingers reached through the iron bars to pluck at him. Withered skin dangled from the hands like tattered clothes on a line. A rotted corpse pulled him close and licked at him with its desiccated tongue. I felt the man’s revulsion and fear and pain. Then his surrender.

It was a wraith. With wet, sharp teeth it bit into the portly man’s neck
—
its tongue working inside his skin
—
probing and scraping. It suddenly pulled back and between its skeletal teeth, I saw my mother’s jade amulet, and heard a howl of triumph and
—

I woke in a sweat, surrounded by the scent of mildew.

I shivered again under the covers, but firmly told myself to get it together. There were enough
real
nightmares in my life that I couldn’t start worrying about the ones I dreamed.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Ugh, it was too late to go to Natalie’s for my uniform. At least I still had the slutty outfit hanging in the wardrobe.

I pulled off the T-shirt I’d slept in and slipped into the uniform. Downstairs, I found Anatole in the kitchen, stirring raspberries into a steaming bowl of oatmeal, while Celeste set the table.

Morning,
I said.

They exchanged a glance.
Did you feel that, last night?
Anatole asked, stroking his mustache.

Like a spider,
Celeste said,
running down your spine.

I shook my head.
I was kinda distracted. I had a nightmare.
I told them what I remembered.

That may not have been entirely a dream,
Anatole said.

A chill struck me and I ran to the phone and dialed Bennett. For once, he answered. “Emma,” he said, “you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Did something happen last night after you left?”

“I gave your mother’s talisman to a reader.”

“What did he look like? Did he wear a baseball cap?”

“How did you
—
”

“I dreamed about him. A wraith
—
”

“He’s dead, Emma.”

“
What
?”

“The amulet’s gone.”

“Oh God. Neos,” I said. “He told me he needed it. Why would he need it?”

“I wish I knew.” A horn honked on his side of the line. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Bennett, wait. I’m sorry. I should have given you my mother’s amulet before. Maybe if I hadn’t held on to it, that guy … or I should’ve
—
”

“It’s okay, Emma. Everything’s going to be all right. Stay there. Go to school and stick close to Natalie. And stay out of trouble, both of you.”

So I went to school. The walk was a long three blocks. I felt responsible for everything: the fights with Bennett, the death of Martha and the other ghostkeeper. And now Neos had the amulet. What would he do with it? I stopped in the middle of the block, overwhelmed by it all. Sometimes this endless roller coaster exhausted me. So, of course, the ride wasn’t over.

Sara’s little BMW darted to the curb in front of me. “C’mon!” she said.

“I’m pretty sure I can walk from here.” There was only a half block to go. Then I saw Harry in the passenger seat and Natalie in back. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got the day off,” Sara said.

“It’s not a holiday.”

“It’s a Harry-day,” Harry called. “Get in!”

I wasn’t in the mood for whatever they had planned, but Bennett had told me to stick close to Natalie, and by trouble, I think he meant with ghosts, so I crammed myself in beside her. “Am I going to regret this?”

“Don’t worry,” Sara said. “Once a year, Harry arranges an unofficial day off.”

“They tell me it’s basically a school tradition,” Natalie told me.

“Where’s Coby?” I asked. “Football again?”

“Always.” Sara sighed.

“So where are we going?” I saw a gleam in Harry’s eyes. “And why do you look so pleased?”

Natalie laughed. “He thinks we’re going skinny-dipping. He’s got a heated indoor pool.”

“Wait,” he said. “We’re not?”

“Harry,” Sara said, patting him fondly on the knee. “Look at you. Now look at me, Natalie, and Emma. Do you think that’s gonna happen anywhere outside your dreams?”

I tried not to hurt his feelings by snickering.

“We’re going to Sara’s house,” Natalie said. “To raid her closet for Homecoming.”

Harry groaned, but when we got there he stationed himself in an oversized chair outside Sara’s walk-in closet, probably hoping for a peep show. He passed judgment on everything we tried.

“That one,” he told Natalie after three dresses. “Stop. You’re done.”

“This?” She ran her hands down the short black sheath. “It’s too plain.”

She looked flawless in it.

“It’ll please your date,” Harry said.

“Well, then”
—
she gave him a secret smile
—
“I’ve found my dress.”

Harry was her date.

Here’s what he said about my five choices:

1) “No.”

2) “Please, no. I beg of you.”

3) “That dress is an offense against God and man.”

4) “You look like a boy.”

5) “Poor Coby.”

“Be nice,” Sara called from inside the closet. “Emma’s beautiful.”

“I never said she wasn’t beautiful,” Harry said. “She just looks awful in your clothing.”

I threw a shoe at him.

Sara strutted out of the closet in her new dress and I noticed Harry’s expression. Maybe he was remembering the times they’d fooled around.

“You, on the other hand, wear them quite nicely,” he said.

“You’re going to make your dates
—
both of them
—
very happy,” I said. She’d grudgingly allowed the two sophomore boys who’d been crushing on her to escort her.

“Who gets the first dance?” Natalie asked.

“I thought they could sandwich me,” Sara quipped.

Then Harry complained of hunger, so we went into the village for sushi, and on to his house for a swim.
With
swimsuits we’d borrowed from Sara.

Coby showed up at one, looking sexy and spent from a lunch-hour practice. Bennett drew me irresistibly, like a moth to flame, but in terms of pure gorgeousness, Coby was in a league of his own. He stripped to his trunks, then dove into the pool. We all watched as he broke the surface and climbed from the water, his muscles slick and wet, his green eyes glowing in the half light of the glass ceiling.

I heard Natalie and Sara both sigh, and Harry murmur that it almost made him want to go gay.

Coby stretched out on a chaise beside me and asked, “So you still sorry you moved here?”

I thought about that and everything it meant. Being with Bennett, becoming a ghostkeeper, Martha’s brief presence in my life, and the ghosts. Always the ghosts.

“No. I’m not sorry,” I said. “It’s where I’m meant to be.”

“I’m sick of practice,” he said. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“You’ve got the whole school counting on you.” Then I noticed Sara staring at us from across the pool. I bit my lip. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

He rose onto his elbows. “Sure.”

“How come you and Sara never … ?”

“We did,” he said, looking away.

“
What
? I meant how come you never
dated,
not how come you never
—
”

“Oh. Damn.” He looked completely abashed. “It was only ’cause we’d been friends forever.” He lowered his voice, not wanting her to overhear. “Sara said we should lose our virginity together, because, you know, why not with your best friend? But then …”

“What?”

He glanced at Sara. “I don’t know. She kind of withdrew.”

I nodded, fiddling with my towel. She was in love with him, the idiot. She couldn’t handle being only friends after that
—
at least not for a while.

“Anyway,” he said, taking my hand. “If I was with Sara I couldn’t take
you
to Homecoming tomorrow.”

I squeezed his hand, and made a vow. After Homecoming, I was getting Coby and Sara together. No matter what it took.

Saturday morning, while helping Celeste clean the side parlor, I told her about my Homecoming predicament.
None of Sara’s dresses worked. And the dance is tonight.
I’d spent a sleepless night back at Natalie’s feeling guilty about Coby and worrying about why I hadn’t heard from Bennett.

Have you looked in ze attic?
Celeste asked, dusting the blue and white ginger jars.

What will I find in the attic? One of Bennett’s old suits?
I recalled Harry’s “You look like a boy” comment. A men’s suit wasn’t going to help.

Non,
I
would not put you in men’s clothing.
She didn’t quite arch her eyebrows at my jeans and T-shirt.
In ze attic are dresses—even some from my mistress, Bennett’s great-
grand-mère.

You think that’d be okay, to borrow something?

Celeste shrugged elegantly.
What else is to be done with them?

Ten minutes later, we knelt over an open cedar chest in the attic. Inside were layers of tissue paper enshrouding blouses and skirts and several dresses. Celeste pulled out each item and let me inspect it before gently rewrapping and laying it to rest again. When I brightened at a white beaded flapper dress, Celeste said simply,
Non,
not for you.

At least she was kinder than Harry, but I’d almost given up hope, when we found The Dress.