Eyes to the Soul (43 page)

She didn’t dare repeat that she’d done nothing. Her own guilt over the ghosts already plagued her. She’d been so happy with the organ donation she’d done everything she could to make sure they took everything. And now most of the recipients were dead. And that guilt was hers too.

No,
Stefan whispered.
That is not yours to own. That was his.

She didn’t want Peter to understand that Stefan was here.

She wished she could turn time back and enjoy the gifts she’d been given, to have taken a different path with so many people in her life. Now at this moment in time grief for Caslo overwhelmed her. Talk about useless.

Maybe not,
Stefan said.
Love is the answer here, sweetheart. If you have a love for Caslo locked away inside your heart it’s time to let it out.

It’s not love but guilt,
she cried painfully.

Or is the guilt hiding the love? Stopping it from coming out?

She wondered. She had to grow past it. She didn’t have to worry about calling Caslo to her – he was dead, but she’d stopped acknowledging the special bond they’d had all that time ago and – Stefan was right – the love they’d shared. She smiled, remembering the days they’d been inseparable. The plans they’d made. The stories they’d shared and their hopes and dreams. She’d been so lost, so broken when he was gone.

Now she could release the pain of what she’d done – for all the right reasons. And release the love to warm her heart and rejoice the time she’d been touched by his. He’d been special to her.

Her fingers one again clutched at the rock she still carried in her pocket. It had once been heart shaped and cracked in two. Her fingers stroked the broken edge.

Now love flowed. Flowed and poured outward from her heart.

Stefan whispered,
Direct the love upward, honey. Send it to yourself, yes. But also to him. He’s lived a cold, endless life with no dawn and it’s warped his energy. He needs the light as much as you need the love.

Tears flowing, she followed Stefan’s instructions blindly. She waited for Peter to howl in rage and pain, but he didn’t. She sensed him there in the back of her eyes and sure enough, her eyes started to heat up.

But she was blind anyway. There was nothing more he could do without damaging the physical body he was now inhabiting. Maybe if she infused him with her own loving energy he’d feel the pain he inflicted on her. And that would be his own pain. She almost smiled, loving the thought of him getting a dose of his own medicine. He’d caused so many people pain, and here he was about to get his own. But she knew instinctively that was the wrong path to follow. She’d never have done this to the Peter she’d known. She hated that he’d suffered. Would have done anything to save him from such a fate.

What are you doing?
Peter asked sharply.
Stop that. It’s too late to save yourself.

Really? Well, now you are a part of me, so if you hurt me it will hurt you too, Peter.

So what do I care? I have been suffering already for a long time.

So have I
, she whispered, her own heart opening up as she released the energy she’d clutched onto so tightly. Released the restraints she’d used to hold him close. So scared of being alone, of losing someone else, she’d hung on well past the time of letting go.

Easy. Keep up the love,
Stefan said quietly.
Don’t slide into pain or fear. He feeds on it and uses it to empower himself.

That made so much sense. Well, she’d had enough of being afraid. She’d had enough of being a victim. She had Stefan now, and she desperately wanted to explore the path that he’d opened up. She deserved it. She had so many broken dreams and crushed hopes littering her past. She wanted to start fresh and create something special. With someone special.

With him? Not likely,
Peter scoffed.
I’ll kill you now before you get to experience that kind of happiness.

And I forgive you for thinking that way. I forgive you for feeling that way. I forgive you for all the bad things you’ve done because I understand how hard this last year must have been. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt you. No one could.
She took a deep breath.
I love you and forgive you and…I let you go.

Doing what she’d done to Caslo so long ago, she encapsulated his energy and booted him from her space. She immediately filled up the gaping hole in her head with as much loving abundant energy as she could. The last thing she heard was Peter’s long, lingering cry of
Noooo.

Then she knew no more.

*

When Celina woke,
it was to find herself pinned to the floor.

“Stefan?”

No answer. She could feel his breath again her cheek, but it wasn’t warm, active. Instead, like the rest of him, the air wafted out on the faintest of efforts. Panicked, she rolled over, crying out, “Stefan?”

“He’s lost.”

Celina glared at Lissa. This wasn’t funny. “What do you mean lost?”

“His soul is out on the ethers. Lost.”

“He goes into the ethers all the time. How can he be lost? He owns that space.”

Lissa laughed but there was a bitter edge to it. “Yes, he does. Or did. But he was trying to stop your asshole boyfriend from killing you, so he used his energy as a buffer between you two. In such a way that when you kicked him out, that part of Stefan – hanging on so tightly to the asshole – went too.”

“So what, you’re saying this is my fault?” Damn that ghost. She’d be happy to never see another ghost if this one would just be like the other ones. But she wasn’t. And would never be.

“It’s your fault if you don’t save him.”

Celina scrambled to her knees. “And how do I do that?”

“Call to him with your music, with your colors. Show him the way back to you.”

“No. You said that will cage him. I can’t do that to Stefan.”

“All psychic energy is determined by intention. If you don’t intend to cage Stefan then you won’t. But if you call to him because you are alone and afraid and fearful, then you will draw him to you to fill that void. You have to call Stefan with love and show him the way back to here.”

Celina winced. “And if I don’t love him? I’ve hardly even had a chance to get to know him.”

“You know him. More than you think, but once again,” she snapped in exasperation, “you won’t see.”

“See what?” Celina almost screamed in frustration.

“Let me try to bring it to you.”

And Lissa blinked out of sight.

Celina shook her head, bewildered, but the ghost was gone. She stared toward Stefan’s prone body. Maybe if she did what Stefan had shown her how to do it would work. She may not be sure of how she felt about him, but she really didn’t want him to die on her. She wanted time to explore what they had.

She slid her hand down his shoulders and arms to snatch up his hand and hold him in her lap as she knelt at his side. She started by calling to him, knowing it was useless but unable to stop herself. She had to consider Lissa’s suggestion. She’d do anything to avoid caging Stefan to her, but she had to bring him home.

Why weren’t his other psychic friends here to help? Then again, from the sounds of it they were all busy helping others.

It was up to her.

She opened her eyes hoping for some change in her sight. But there was only gray. As usual. And a deep ache, a burn. She closed her eyes again. Gently she replaced her hand on his chest, thought how to reorient herself in this place, and crawled forward to where she thought the guitar was. It took several moments before she found it. Snatching it up, she scooched back to sit beside him. She plucked a couple of chords. How could she play with the necessary emotion when panic tightened her throat and cramped her fingers? She rippled her practice notes by habit, feeling them relax against one of her favorite instruments. Where would she have been in all these months of darkness without music to lead her way?

That thought made her wince. She’d been a light in the never-ending darkness for the ghosts out there too.

She lifted her head, thinking about that. Music led her down the path and Stefan was a painter, so in theory he could follow the colors she’d paint home. And how could she paint a pathway for him? Slowly her mind, half-absorbed in thought, she watched the twisting fronds of color rise up and twine sadly in the air in front of her. She grimaced. That was likely to lead to his funeral, not a happy homecoming. Closing her eyes so she could see the colors easier, she added a lighter note, then another so there was a happy jig dancing, but realized that wasn’t going to work either.

“Don’t think about it – just do it,” Lissa urged.

Good advice. She pressed her fingers flat against the strings for a long moment, then thought about Stefan, calling out to him. Calling to him from a place of home – of heart. She smiled. “I might not love you yet, but I’m so on the edge I’ll be there in a nanosecond.”

She almost laughed as the words resonated with the haunting tune. She continued to weave all the reasons why he should return to her. All the reasons to come back to this life, to this reality, to what they were together. She didn’t realize there were tears in her eyes until they dropped down onto her hands.

“Ah, Stefan,” she whispered. “See what you do to me?”

She rejoiced in the joy of what they had, what they could have. The notes swelled with passion. She watched as vibrant colors braided into a strong, tight cord in front of her. She mentally pulled it back, winding it up so tight that it would launch as soon as she released it. She held it close in her mind’s eye, filling it with love and joy and peace and need. Need for him to return. Need for him to come back to her that they might be together again.

Then she let it fly, laugher bursting free as the rope flew out of her sight, out of the house, and heading toward her love.

Her fingers danced and stroked and kicked up the tempo, keeping the colorful road rippling forward. “Come back to me, Stefan, come back!”

For a long moment there was nothing, just the power of the music pouring from her heart.

Finally, in the distance the faintest of whispers drifted toward her.

Celina.

Yes,
she cried,
follow the path. I’m right here at the end of the road.

She played as if her heart were dying, her fingers moving so fast she was afraid the slightest thing would trip them up and the music – the pathway – would be broken.

Then suddenly he stood in front of her, his form glowing golden, vibrant and strong.

“I’m here. You can stop playing.”

“No, I can’t. You might disappear if I do.” Then the briefest touch of his lips brushed against hers and her fingers clanged together, the music jarring to a stop.

She gasped. “Stefan.”

And damn if he didn’t reach over and grab her hand physically and squeeze. “I’m here.”

She burst into tears. She leaned over and was crushed in his embrace. After a moment she felt something hard, small, and round between them. She lifted up slightly, her hand grasping the cold object. “What’s this?”

“You’re welcome,” Lissa said from the side, but there was no condescension in her voice this time. In fact, if Celina wasn’t correct, there just might have been tears clogging the teenager’s throat.

“You are some special ghost, you know that?” Celina straightened, her heart full and happy.

“I’ll admit you’re turning out to be not too bad after all yourself.”

Celina beamed. Peace with Stefan’s ghost. Just about perfect.

Her fingers played with the object, a frown on her face as she tried to identify it. After a couple of moments she realized there was only silence from Stefan.

“Stefan?”

“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice the barest of whispers.

She sagged with relief.

“Lissa brought this.” She held up the object. “It’s the first I’ve known of a ghost that could move objects.”

“Some do,” he said quietly. “Lissa is getting more adept.”

She tilted her head and smiled, a tiny quirk to her lips. “So what is this?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

The edge of one side of the object caught her attention. Her heart froze. She couldn’t breathe. Her mind was too shocked to make any sense of what just happened.

“It can’t be,” she whispered. She shifted so she could put her hand into her pocket and withdrew her precious Caslo rock that she’d been holding so much today. Hands shaking, she carefully lined the two up and felt them settle into place. “Caslo,” she whispered. “Is it really you?”

“Why don’t see for yourself?”

See? As in, if the predator was gone could she really see? “I tried earlier but there was just grayness.”

“Try again.” Stefan’s voice held a hint of amusement. She frowned at him. But fingers whispered across her closed eyes just then. He said, “It takes something else – belief.”

Scared to try and terrified not to, Celina opened her eyes and saw Stefan, as in
really
saw Stefan. For a long moment a vision of Caslo’s younger self from her memory banks settled over the top, adjusted, then lined up with the Stefan she knew today.