Authors: Judith Graves,Heather Kenealy,et al.,Kitty Keswick,Candace Havens,Shannon Delany,Linda Joy Singleton,Jill Williamson,Maria V. Snyder
It’s just a dance
, I tell myself as I slip into jeans and a baggy tee. I’ll go anyway as an unpaid and underappreciated volunteer. Manny, my editor and friend, might even pity-dance with me. Dominic won’t be there, but most of my friends will, and I
will
have fun. Without. Him.
No shock when Penny-Love—full name Penelope Lovell, my bestie and the royal highness of Sheridan High’s social scene—drives up twenty-three minutes late. No apologies, just the question I hoped she wouldn’t ask. “Where’s Dominic?”
“Proms aren’t his thing.” I shrug as if it doesn’t matter and slip into her car.
“But you’ve been going out forever. He has to take you.”
“Not going to happen. But don’t stress, I’ll still go and help out.”
“I was counting on his muscles today.” Penny-Love taps her finger on the steering wheel, frowning. “Sabine, how will we ever get that drafty, dusty castle ready by tomorrow without him? This is a disaster.”
“Tsunamis, tornados, and earthquakes—those are disasters. A school prom doesn’t even rate a number four on the disaster scale.”
“It will if we don’t get another strong guy.” Penny-Love twists one of her copper curls. “Dominic can do most of the heavy lifting, but he needs help setting up the turrets. The tallest tower is twelve feet high and made of corrugated metal. Can’t you persuade Dominic to change his mind? I thought he’d do anything for you.”
I’d thought so too. Things had changed between us since his business had taken off. I hardly ever saw him anymore. Between tending to Nona’s livestock in the morning and working late for his clients, he seemed to have time for everyone—except
me.
P-L glances over from the driver’s seat. “Do I detect trouble in hot-and-sizzling romance-land?”
“No. We’re fine. But—” I shake my head. “Nothing. We’re great.”
She doesn’t believe me, of course, and what’s worse is I don’t believe me either. But I shove doubts aside as we arrive at Wilshire Castle.
This year’s prom theme is Castle Dreams. When the Wilshire estate offered us the castle ballroom for FREE (best four-letter word ever), the prom committee back-flipped for joy—most of them are cheerleaders. Not me. I’m more of a mascot.
Prom is tomorrow night. Cleaning and decorating will be a huge job.
A job I’d expected to share with Dominic.
But I guess not.
I’ve only seen Wilshire Castle from a distance, so I’m surprised how sorrowful it looks up close—a graying shade of forgotten. It’s supposed to be haunted. I reach up to touch the patch of dark in my blonde hair: the mark of a Seer. I’ve been able to see ghosts since I was a little girl but don’t expect to see any today. Wilshire Castle is only a few decades old. A reproduction of a castle, not the real thing. Still, when we drive through the wrought-iron gates, I shiver.
Open your senses beyond the expected to see more than is visible
, a familiar voice speaks inside my head.
“Not now, Opal,” I mind-talk to my spirit guide. I’m the only one who can see her, so I have to be careful not to talk to her in public. She’s bossy and has so much attitude you’d think when she lived more than 300 years ago, she was a Mayan princess instead of a sacrificial peasant girl.
Disturbing vibrations imperil your aura
, Opal warns
. Best heed my words or suffer a pyramid’s weight of regret. Darkness looms ahead if you stray from silver threads of friendships
.
“Huh? Stray what?”
Beside me, Penny-Love unclips her seatbelt. “Did you say something?” she asks.
Did I?
Oops
.
“Opal, not now.” I use my sternest mind-voice. “Pen doesn’t believe in ghosts, but she does believe in crazy people, and I don’t want her to think I’m flipping out.”
What means this “flipping out?” Your language lacks a logical foundation.
I cover my mouth so I won’t laugh. I’m the one who usually needs a dictionary to decipher our conversations. For once I’ve confused Opal, and it feels good. I know she means well, but my shivers are gone, and I have no sense of danger. I tell Opal to leave, promising to be careful.
Because really, what can be dangerous about decorating for a prom?
*~*~*
Penny-Love’s new boyfriend Ransom is a nice guy. I’m surprised because she usually picks bad dudes wrapped in Trouble. Don’t even ask about her last boyfriend. But this guy is… well… sweet. Ransom is a polite Southern boy—opening doors, offering to carry things, and gazing at Penny-Love as if she’s the queen of his world. It makes me a little sad because Dominic’s sweet to me too. And I miss him.
We get to work right away—and, man, is there work. It’s like Wilshire Castle has been vacant for centuries, although Pen tells me it’s only been a decade. “Since the tragedy,” she says in a hushed tone as she hands me a broom.
“What tragedy?” My sixth sense must be off, because I’m not picking up any otherworldly vibes. Only dust, which makes me sneeze.
“I can’t believe you don’t know.”
“All I heard is it might be haunted.”
“Ignore those ridiculous rumors,” Penny-Love scoffs. “Ghosts aren’t real.”
I could prove otherwise, but why shock her with reality? Most people are content to live their earth lives without ever seeing a ghost. Not me. Spirits are my normal, and even though I complain sometimes, I love my special connection to the other side.
“So what was the tragedy?” I ask.
“The dude who built this castle, Jeremiah Wilshire, murdered his wife. Everyone knows he buried her on this property, but no one’s ever found the grave, so he wasn’t even arrested. He lived alone for years until he fell down the stairs and died here.”
My shivers return. Dizzy, I lean on the broom for balance. Darkness sweeps me somewhere else, back to another time in this ballroom, only the walls are newer with gilded-framed paintings, and high above the center of the ballroom, a chandelier glitters like cascading diamonds. A young bearded guy in a tux holds hands with a freckled red-headed girl wearing a lacy white gown. Bride and groom, I realize, warmed by the honey-sweetness of their love for each other. The groom draws his bride close, and she leans her head against his shoulder. They dance beneath the silvery shine of the chandelier.
“Sabine!”
The broom slips from my fingers at the snap of Ransom’s voice.
“Are you all right?” he asks with a frown. “You didn’t answer when I called you, and you look awfully pale.”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Can I get you some water?”
I shake my head, even more impressed with Penny-Love’s boyfriend. I just hope he isn’t too nice for her. Being around P-L is like climbing aboard a thrill ride—lots of fun but you’d better buckle up securely and hold on tight.
Penny-Love calls Ransom back to a stack of metallic towers lying on the floor. This must be the heavy lifting P-L needed Dominic for, and this thought stabs me with sadness. I consider texting him, but I won’t beg for his time. Besides, Ransom seems strong enough. He lifts the first metallic tower as if it’s made of paper. The second goes up fast, too. But as he bends down for the tallest and heaviest tower, I get a bad feeling. A vision flashes in my mind of the tower lurching sideways, tumbling down, and crashing onto Ransom.
I open my mouth to shout a warning. But it’s too late.
Screams echo around the ballroom. Another sound bounces off the walls, too—gruff, mocking laughter.
When I turn toward the laughter, a strange man is standing so close to a wall mirror that he seems to be inside the glass. He has short dark-brown hair, a trim brown beard, and narrowed demonic eyes. I recognize him from my vision, although he’s older and deader. The ghost of Jeremiah Wilshire.
Even worse—he’s staring back at me.
~*~*~
Good news: Ransom survives with only bruises and a nasty bump on his head.
Bad news: The ghost will strike again.
Jeremiah is one angry dead dude. Although he vanished without giving any hint of what he plans to do, his aura burned like lava, so I know he’ll be back with vengeance. Wasn’t killing his wife enough? You’d think dying would have cured him of being psycho. Guess not.
But why attack Ransom? Was it random or deliberate? Either way, a psycho ghost at the prom equals trouble. I wish I could warn Penny-Love, but I’ve worked hard to hide my psychic secret from her and don’t want to be labeled a freak at school. Besides, she’d never believe me. Not even if a ghost spit in her face.
We work another hour, until the ballroom shines with cleanliness. Silver and purple streamers twist like royal vines along the walls and a giant banner “Castle Dreams Come True” sways high across the stage. All that’s left to do is stock the kitchen with refreshments and put up the fallen turret. Penny-Love says she’ll bring one of her brothers to help, and we agree to meet in the morning.
On the drive home, Pen raves about her prom dress, the hot new stylist who’ll beautify her hair, and the limo Ransom hired to take us to the prom. But I’m hardly listening. I need to get rid of the psycho ghost before he does something worse than knock over a tower. Next time he might really hurt… even kill… someone.
“Who’s doing your hair?” Penny-Love stops for a red light.
“Huh? Oh… for the prom?”
“Well, duh.”
I shrug. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“That’s because all you’re thinking about is Dominic. You can’t hide your feelings from me, Sabine. It sucks he won’t take you to the prom.”
“Well…” I let her think what she wants. “His work is important to him, especially starting a business in this economy. He’s not in high school anymore, so I can’t expect him to get excited about a school dance. Still—” I sigh. “I found an amazing prom dress, and now he won’t even see me in it.”
“Know what you should do?” P-L says with a wicked grin as the red light changes to green and she stomps the accelerator.
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Tell Dominic that if he doesn’t take you to the prom, you’ll dance with other guys. I’ll bet Josh will be there. Nothing stirs up the jealousy juices better than an old boyfriend.”
I shake my head. “Dominic and I don’t play jealousy games. We trust each other.”
“Sweet but bor-ring.” Penny-Love purses her lips as if thinking deeply. “You know what puzzles me? Dominic’s anti-prom attitude. Sure he’s an outdoorsy guy, but he’s not a coward. I can’t see him letting you down like this without a good reason.”
“His good reason is his work,” I say with a weary sigh.
“Maybe,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
It hurts too much to think of my strapless chiffon prom dress with the tiny sequins trailing like stars in a golden sky. I found the perfect gold strappy heels, too, and planned to wear a gold chain with an oval diamond that my grandmother gave me for my seventeenth birthday. I’d been so sure Dominic would go with me that I bought the tickets without actually asking him… until yesterday.
His refusal. My silent agony. I didn’t cry then, but I might lose it if the prom topic comes up again. Unless we talk about prom for a non-personal reason. Like a psycho ghost. Dominic has intuitive skills that could help with ghost-busting. He doesn’t see ghosts, but he’s tuned in to the other side and can communicate with animals. I smile as I imagine us driving to Wilshire Castle and taking down the ghost. Together.
When Penny-Love drops me off, Dominic’s pickup truck is parked in its usual spot by the barn. Instead of going into the main house where I live with my grandmother, I head for Dominic’s loft studio. I tap on the door, but get no answer. It isn’t locked, so I enter. The combo living room-kitchenette shows evidence of Dominic—dirty dishes in the sink, a loaf of bread on the counter, and western boots by the couch. Biggest evidence is the lump underneath a blanket on the couch. Dominic.
He’s curled on his side, his tanned rugged face softened by sleep. My feelings soften, too, as I gaze down at him. I reach down to gently push aside a curl of his sandy-brown hair from his face. I feel such an overwhelming love for him that I can hardly breathe. I long to curl up beside him and hold him so tightly that he never leaves.
His eyelashes flutter. “Sabine?” he murmurs with a smile.
“Hey,” I say. “How come you’re sleeping on the couch?”
“Was I asleep?” He sits up, yawning. His blanket slips, and he’s shirtless, only wearing his jeans. Blond chest hairs trail down to a rock-hard six-pack. Be still my lustful heart. Delicious naked images dance in my head.
“Want to crawl under my blanket?” Dominic invites.
My body begs me to answer
yes
, so I’m surprised when I say, “No. I have something important to discuss.”
“Your loss,” he teases.
“Don’t tempt me.” I sit beside him and squeeze his hand. “We need to talk.”
He frowns. “If it’s about the prom, I’m really sorry, but I just can’t go.”
“I know.” I bite my lip, trying hard to be understanding. “This
is
about the prom, but not about us. It’s about the prom ghost.” I tell him what happened at Wilshire Castle.
He shows no doubt when I describe the ghost. He believes me.
“If I can just talk to the ghost alone, I’m sure I can get rid of him,” I explain.
“Do
not
go near that ghost again.”
“We’re decorating in the morning, so I have to be there. That’s why I need to deal with this tonight. If I convince Jeremiah to go into the light, he’ll be gone by morning. The prom can go on without any danger.”
Dominic shakes his head. “No way. You’re not going to a deserted castle alone.”
“I don’t plan to.” I look into his blue eyes. “I want you to come with me tonight. Will you?”
He frowns. “I have a 6:00 a.m. job with a new client who owns three boarding stables. If this client likes what I do, it’ll mean steady work, so I can afford to take more time off to be with you. But I have to get my gear ready. Sorry, Sabine. But I can’t go.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I turn away from him.
“Can’t.” He lightly touches my chin, turning me back toward him. “Sabine, you know I love you, and I’m working hard so we can have a good life together. I’m sorry if I can’t be with you much right now. But it will get better. I promise. If I can get away for a few hours between jobs tomorrow, I’ll help with the ghost and even prom decorating if you still need me.”