The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch) (18 page)

Ever since I was a kid, I’d been a responsible person. I was the six-year-old who never forgot to feed the dog. I made my bed every morning. I always paid my bills, even if it meant giving up my home. I wanted to follow Michelle’s advice and not decide, but Prudence’s words made me realize that not choosing had severe consequences. This was my responsibility, my purpose. Whether or not I loved Rick, I owed it to Prudence to relieve her of her duty and I owed it to Logan to send him home. And I owed something to Marcus too—judgment.

All anger had bled from Prudence’s expression and now she stroked my hair, the nurse in her coming out over all else. I thought I knew what the right thing to do was but I wasn’t ready to pull the Band-Aid off. It was all happening too fast. I needed more time.

“Let me think about it,” I said.

My Personal Crisis Intervention

I
had a roast in my kitchen, and it was well past dinnertime. No sense letting it go to waste. I’d think more clearly on a full stomach. After what I’d just experienced, I needed all of the clarity I could get.

Logan moved the spread into the dining room and was waiting for me. I sat down at the head of the table, and he loaded a plate. Invisible as he was, the food floated onto the dish before the hovering plate lowered to the spot in front of me.

“I’m sorry I was so hard on you earlier. This is great, Logan. Of all the ghosts I know, you are the best cook.”

“I’m the only ghost you know.”

“Not true. I know Prudence now. But regardless, of all the people I know, you are the best cook. Whoever you were in life, you could cook.”

“I wish I knew if that were true,” Logan said.

The comment made me wonder, if I decided against being the witch, would Logan eventually forget how to cook? Just thinking about it made me eat slower and savor every bite.

“You’ve decided, haven’t you?”

“No, not yet.”

“But you’re considering it. You’re considering being with him.” A dark wave of smoke swirled through Logan, the jealousy rolling off him and filling the room with the scent of burnt toast.

“Prudence made me see who I was before. I understand better now my responsibilities and my purpose here. I don’t like the idea of being with Rick right now. He lied to me and manipulated my memories to take advantage of me physically.”

“Did he hurt you?” Logan fumed.

“No. But he did enough, and although I consented, I did so without understanding how our connection was influencing me. I don’t know if I would have made the same choices without it.”

“That bastard. I wouldn’t do that to you, Grateful.” Logan’s green eyes smoldered.

“I know. You’ve always been completely honorable.”

“So then, don’t do this.”

“There’s no other way. I can’t let you stay in limbo forever. “

“If you sort me, we’ll never see each other again. “

Just thinking about Logan gone for good was a red-hot poker directly though the chest. My heart was skewered, roasting over the thought. I rubbed the ache and was happy for my nurse’s brain. It allowed me to see beyond the emotional pain to the logical argument. “If I remain human, I’ll eventually die, but you could be here for eternity.”

“I don’t care. I’m willing.”

“Until I die, another witch can’t replace me. Red Grove will become a very dangerous place.”

He had no answer for that. His eyes closed against the words, squeezing them shut as if he could hide from the truth behind his nonexistent eyelids.

“And finally, I don’t know how I feel about you, Logan. I haven’t known you long enough to know. And frankly, I think your feelings for me have more to do with who I was in my past life than either of us would like to admit. You can feel I’m the sorter. You’re drawn to my latent power. It may feel like more, but I’m not sure.”

“But I
am
sure.”

“How can you be when you don’t even know who
you
are?”

He flashed against the wall, broke apart, and then came back together. “That was a low blow.”

“I’m sorry. It needed to be said.”

Time drifted by us as I finished my meal, gulping down the glass of cabernet he’d poured for me and thinking it was perfectly paired with the beef. I knew it was important that I eat every bite to show I appreciated the effort Logan put into it. The meal was perfect, but I’d hardly tasted it. I was too concerned about the feelings of the ghost who watched me eat it. Something in Logan was dying tonight, some hope of clinging to what remained of this life. I was sorry about what I would have to do to him. What I would have to do to save him.

I crossed my fork and knife on my plate. “Everything was perfect. The food was the most delicious I’ve ever had.”

Logan disappeared. A moment later, a romantic ballad crooned from the speakers in the family room.
Unforgettable
by Natalie Cole. The choice wasn’t lost on me. He reappeared next to my chair, so solid I would have guessed he was human if I hadn’t known better. I didn’t have to look at the clock to know it must be midnight.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked, extending his arm. “For one dance, let’s pretend we both met when we had choices, when I was human, and you were carefree, and the world turned. Let’s dance like there was no magic, just two human beings and the music.”

I remembered how I’d danced with Rick and the …results. The music was different and so was the man. I would give Logan this. We would dance, and we would always have this memory. I took his arm and stood, smiling as if I lived in the pretend world he wanted for us. I placed one arm on his hip, the warm tingle letting me know where his molecules began, and held his hand with my other. It was more difficult than I expected. I couldn’t lean into him like I might with a human dancer. But we swayed to the music, my arms growing sore from holding the position. I smiled, and he pretended, and then the song ended.

I dropped my hands to my sides. Logan ran his fingers up my outer arms, the warm tingle making my hair stand on end. He leaned forward and the focused current of air that was his kiss brushed my lips. When I opened my eyes, the look he gave me said everything. He knew what my decision had to be as much as I did, but he hated it.

“I should get some sleep,” I said.

He nodded.

“Good night, Logan.”

I was halfway up the stairs when I heard him say, “I love you,” toward my back. I pretended not to hear him.

I never made it to the top. Just then the door burst open and Michelle entered the kitchen, her arms full of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.

“Grateful? Your garage door was open. I hope you don’t mind, I let myself—” Michelle stopped at the entrance to the dining room. She stared at Logan, and her jaw dropped.

Logan was doing his best to appear normal. He focused his energy to look as solid as possible. I wasn’t sure how long the illusion would last.

I jogged back down the stairs and placed myself between them. “Of course it’s okay,” I said, hugging her in such a way as to block her view of Logan. I spun her around toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get some bowls for the ice cream.”

“Wait. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She pivoted toward Logan.

Had she turned inward, toward me, I would have been able to stop her with my body. I would have made some excuse as to why the man I was with was suddenly gone. But Michelle rotated outward, away from me, making it almost impossible to maneuver in front of her. Logan dissolved at the precise moment she turned. If I had to guess, I’d say he took the opportunity of her facing the kitchen to make his escape and then couldn’t stop the process halfway. But it was also entirely possible that he ran out of energy. After all, he’d spent the entire evening making me dinner and holding his molecules together. This whole situation was more than stressful to the poor guy—I mean, ghost.

Whatever happened, Logan went up in smoke right in front of Michelle.

“Michelle, I—” My attempted explanation fell on deaf ears.

Her mouth opened and a head-splitting scream sliced through the room. The ice cream toppled from her fingers. She scrambled for the door.

“Michelle, stop!” I called, but she’d completely freaked. She spilled into the street before I could stop her. There was only one place to go from my house if you were following the road—across the bridge and straight to Rick’s.

Unfortunately, it was after midnight, and Rick was working. At the top of the bridge, I could see what Michelle had already seen. Rick was standing in front of his house, completely naked. She stopped in the middle of the road like a deer in headlights.

“Stop. Please,” he said. He held out a hand toward her.

She shook her head and backed away from him. Unfortunately, that meant she was backing toward the graveyard.

“Michelle, stop. I can explain,” I called. I jogged toward her with my hands out.

It was no use. She was in full-blown panic mode. I wasn’t even sure she could hear me.

“What’s going on?” she said in a shaky voice.

I started to answer her, but was distracted by the fog rolling in behind the gate. Fingers of thick, black mist filtered through the hedges, licking at the bars of the fence. If Michelle got any closer, it would reach her.

“Michelle, move away from the gate,” I said, voice trembling. I gestured with my hand for her to come to me.

Rick took a step forward.

She didn’t move. “No. Tell me what’s going on.” She stepped backward.

The fog stretched for her.

“Please, trust me. Take a step toward me,” I said. I wasn’t sure what the fog was exactly, only that it was making Rick’s skin bubble under the surface. His beast knew it was evil. Plus, nothing good came out of the hellmouth at night.

She did not move.

Rick glanced at me, and his thoughts were as clear as if he’d whispered in my ear. He wanted permission to take her by force.

I nodded. It had to be done, and I knew how fast he could move when he wanted.

Michelle’s screams broke our connection. She’d gotten too close. Tendrils of fog had wrapped themselves around her waist and were sliding her up the wrought iron spindles to the top of the gate. Rick was there in an instant. He wasn’t fast enough. Michelle’s legs followed her body over the top. She disappeared behind the hedges.

I started forward, but Rick’s hand shot out. “No, Grateful. You’re not equipped for this. It will be of no use if they have you too. I will get her.”

I couldn’t argue with the logic.

His skin bubbled, violently. The smell that always clung to Rick—pine, holy water, and earth—grew stronger, surrounding me, filling me. I realized now what the scent was. It was the smell of a fresh grave. I watched his bones grow, bend, and reshape his body. His chin extended as he folded to the earth, his ears growing to a point on each side of his head. Claws sprouted from his knuckles. Scales and fur budded from his skin and over his backbone, which extended into a tail. Rick transformed into a monster, both reptilian and wolf-like. Two iridescent stretches of flesh unfolded from his back. Wings.

The beast ran a few steps and took to the air.

Through the bars of the gate, I watched the fog channel itself into three forms. The redheaded vamp I’d seen my first night in the cemetery fleshed out and grinned at me, licking his lips. A vamp I’d never seen before, huge and bald like the strong man at the circus, formed next. But when the fog that held Michelle formed into muscled flesh with a black ponytail, my stomach twisted. It was Marcus.

In my head I heard his voice.
Come, girl. Come over the fence and we’ll play a game. It’ll be fun.
He didn’t recognize me. I guess that was the benefit of having a brand-new body.

I backed away from the gate.

Marcus frowned and narrowed his eyes. Rick swooped into the cemetery. The vamps scattered. Red-hair wasn’t fast enough and Rick’s beast flipped him into his mouth, sinking teeth through his abdomen. The sound of bones crunching made me gag, and blood sprayed across the pebble pathway. I swallowed rapidly, trying to keep my dinner down.

Marcus ducked behind a monolith, dragging Michelle with him. I was somewhat relieved to see that she’d passed out; at least she wasn’t panicking anymore. Now, the only one panicking was me. I looked back toward the strongman and watched him break off a piece of a marble headstone. He hurled the sharp shard of stone at Rick.

“Rick, watch out!” I screamed.

The beast lunged to the side but the granite sliced through his outer shoulder. The yelp Rick’s beast emitted was somewhere between the howl of an oncoming tornado and a growl. The sound was so loud it hurt. I covered my ears with my palms. Apparently, it had a similar effect on the vamps, because the strongman was temporarily distracted with his ears, long enough for Rick to swallow him whole. Then he turned toward Marcus.

“Watch your step, caretaker. One wrong move and the girl dies,” Marcus hissed. “In fact, I think it might be safer for me on the inside rather than the outside.” Marcus thrust his arm into Michelle’s chest; her eyes popped open in terror. The vamp slid into her body like he was putting on a coat.