Deception (28 page)

30

The Knell provided me with an attorney, who made me memorize the story for police questioning:

On our way to the cocktail party at Harry’s house, I’d noticed Coby acting strangely. Not at all himself. He was worried about the game
—
what everyone would think of him if he lost. When he pulled into Redd’s Pond, I’d left the car and run back to the museum, where Bennett phoned the police. Because I was worried Coby was going to hurt himself. Kill himself.

So ending his life wasn’t enough; I also lied about his death.

The downpour had wiped away all evidence of the fight and though the story seemed a little vague to me, the Knell exerted pressure behind the scenes, and the cops closed the file.

Suicide. At least no one had seen the knife wound in my chest. I couldn’t bear for anyone to think Coby had hurt me.

Gossip at school said that Coby had killed himself because I’d broken up with him
—
I wondered if Harry was fueling it. I actually had a kid ask why I couldn’t have waited until after Homecoming to dump him. Didn’t I know I’d ruined everything?

So I went from being the most popular girl to the school leper. In the days after Coby died, Harry and Sara didn’t wait for me at the school gates. In fact, they didn’t talk to me at all. I couldn’t figure out how to approach them, how to explain what had happened. To tell them that I cared for Coby, too. I hadn’t known him forever, as they had, but I mourned him all the same.

I longed for the comfort of our friendship, to share the happy memories and the grief. But I couldn’t blame them for turning away, for hating me.

I would’ve done the same.

One night, a few days after Coby’s death, I found Bennett in the solarium. He hadn’t been around, even though he’d been staying at the museum with me and Natalie. I missed him and couldn’t take his disappearing act anymore, so after finishing dinner with Natalie, I’d gone to look for him. He stood at one of the windows, staring out at the pitch-black sky.

He watched my reflection in the window as I approached, and his brow furrowed with an expression I couldn’t decipher. Then he turned to me. “Did you love him?”

I shook my head. “Not like that.”

“Like what then? Did you …”

I didn’t want to talk about it. What if I had loved him? He’d still be dead and I’d still be responsible. “What does it matter?”

“No, I just
—
God! I’ve screwed everything up, Emma.”

“What have you done? Everything’s my fault.”

He shook his head. “I mean between you and me.”

“Is there a you and me?”

He gave me a look of such intensity that my breath caught. “All I know is that I’m in love with you,” he said, almost angrily. “That the sight of you, the scent of you, the sound of your voice
—
I can’t help myself, I can’t stop it, I can’t think of anything else. You’ve made me completely useless.”

“Oh!”

“Every time we’re together, we fight and you
—
”

“And I’ve loved you from the moment I met you. You walked in that door with Max and
—
I knew.”

Bennett finally gave me the look I’d been dreaming of. The one that said, I could kiss you right now, and live with you and you alone, forever. And I returned it full force.

Then he spun away from me. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Like what? Like I want you to take me upstairs and
—
”

He groaned. “Please!”

“What? Don’t you want me?”

“Just
—
just give me a minute.” He took a deep breath, struggling to control himself. I stepped behind him and touched his shoulder. His muscles felt bunched and tense beneath my palm.

And Natalie strolled into the solarium, chewing on one of Anatole’s almond cookies. Martha had been right. I’d opened up to Natalie and she’d become a real friend to me.

“Have you told her yet?” she asked Bennett.

“Natalie, get out of here,” he said.

“What?” I said to Bennett. “What is there to tell?”

“Oops.” She backed toward the door. “Forget I was here.” And she tiptoed away.

“What is she talking about?”

“Emma, ghostkeepers can’t be together,” he said in a strangled voice.

I laughed. “Is that some ridiculous Knell rule? Ignore them.”

Bennett turned to me. “I can’t.”

“You’re not serious,” I said.

“When two ghostkeepers are together
—
the more they touch
—
one of them loses their powers.”

“What?”

“Until they have nothing left at all.”

“So they can’t date or marry or
—
” I stopped. “What about my parents?”

“Your mom lost her powers to your father. That’s what happens to the weaker partner, and your mom’s abilities were never strong. That’s why she needed the amulet to focus them.”

“But didn’t she know what she’d lose?”

He nodded. “She knew.”

“She loved him very much,” I said, thinking also of the original Bennett, who’d sacrificed his powers to be with the first Emma. That’s why he’d become a ghost. He hadn’t been a ghostkeeper when he died.

“And wanted a family.” Bennett looked for a moment toward the garden. “I can’t imagine how she must’ve felt, unable to protect you from Neos once she lost her power.”

I nodded slowly. They really had tried to protect me. That’s why they’d sent me to the poof, and
—
and maybe why they’d disappeared, too. Were they still watching out for me?

“I don’t care,” I finally said. “I’ll give up my powers to be with you.”

Bennett laughed. “Emma, you’re already the strongest ghostkeeper I’ve ever seen.
You
won’t lose anything.”

“Oh.”

Of course Bennett wasn’t willing to sacrifice his powers to be with me
—
this was his whole world, born a ghostkeeper, working for the Knell. Could I ask him to lose everything for me? Never. Except shouldn’t he be willing to give up everything for love? Isn’t that what love was?

I was afraid to ask, but I didn’t want to start keeping secrets again. So I said, “And, um, I don’t suppose you …”

“I would, Emma.” He took me in his arms and kissed me like I’d never been kissed before and maybe never would be again. “I totally would.”

I sighed into his neck. “But?”

“That first murder in San Francisco?” he said. “That was my sister. That’s why I’ve been so busy investigating. I can’t stop now. Not until I find Neos.”

A few days later, Bennett was waiting for me outside the front gates of Thatcher. Coby’s funeral was set for Saturday and school had turned into a living hell. It was a relief to see a friendly face. Bennett wore a navy wool coat, ripped jeans, and teal blue knit scarf. I wanted to hug him. Kiss him. Slide my fingers under the scarf to touch his skin and never let go.

Instead, I said, “Hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” He smiled, happy to see me. We were always happy to see each other these days, even if we both kept our hands in our pockets.

We headed down the street, side by side, not touching.

“Nothing’s ever going to be normal again, is it?” I said.

“Not normal, no.” He laid a hand on the small of my back. “But one day, you and I …”

I shivered. Still, as much as I longed to feel Bennett’s arms around me, and his skin next to mine, I wasn’t sure I could let him give up his powers. He’d not only stop dispelling, he’d stop seeing ghosts entirely. Part of him would be missing forever.

Still, that little dilemma could wait. First we needed to find Neos and stop him for good.

“Any word from the Knell?” I asked.

“There’s no trace of him yet.”

“I think it’s time I met them.”

“Good,” he said. “Because you’ve got an appointment on Saturday.”

I stopped walking. “When did that happen?”

“Today. I couldn’t put them off any longer.”

“The meeting’s here?”

“In New York. We’ll take the train.”

“Wow.” This was unexpected. “Um. You’re going with me?”

He grinned. “Of course.”

I started walking again. “That’s okay then.”

We stopped in the village for a couple of red-eye chais, then when we got home, Bennett stepped into the kitchen while I leafed through the mail. Mixed in with the catalogs and bills, there was a thin manila envelope addressed to me.

I ripped open the envelope, and found a single photo.

Of Bennett, at Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, which made me think Max must have taken it.

Scrawled across the bottom:
Don’t trust him.

The dot over the
i
was missing. It was my mother’s handwriting.

I flipped over the envelope again. There was no return address and it hadn’t been postmarked. Did that mean she was in Echo Point? Were Max and my dad here, too?

“What’s wrong?” Bennett asked, coming into the foyer.

I crumpled the photo, the words echoing in my head:
Don’t trust him.

“Nothing,” I said. “How’s that chai?”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to my spectacular agents, Nancy Coffey and Joanna Stampfel-Volpe; my fabulous editor, Caroline Abbey; and all the other wonderful people at Bloomsbury, especially Raina Putter, Nicole Gastonguay, and Deb Shapiro.

Lee Nichols
was raised in Santa Barbara, California—the setting of her adult novels
Tales of a Drama Queen, Hand-Me-Down
, and
True Lies of a Drama Queen
. She attended Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts, where she studied history and psychology. She now lives in Maine and is married to novelist Joel N. Ross.
Deception
is her first novel for young adults.

www.leenicholsbooks.com

Deception
is just the ghostly beginning.
Read on for a sneak peek at the next
Haunting Emma book:

BetRayal

As I reached the gates of the cemetery, a flurry of snow suddenly filtered through the gray day and little white puff balls floated from the sky. I smiled at the clouds, tears filling my eyes, remembering Martha, who’d told me my first snow would be magical.

I caught a snowflake on my tongue, then stepped into the graveyard. Time for more magic. Time to raise the dead.

Here’s the thing about ghostkeepers. When we die, we die. There’s no coming back like other people: we’re cremated or buried and that’s the end.

But people like Coby could be summoned. Or at least, their ghosts could.

I surveyed the empty cemetery, the snow dusting granite tombstones, then wove through the monuments to stand at Coby’s grave. I bowed my head and looked at the coffin, scattered with dirt and flowers, but didn’t toss in my own handful of dirt, because to me he’d soon no longer be dead. I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. What if he hated me? What if he wasn’t the same? Or worse, what if he didn’t want to come back?

I took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

I closed my eyes and felt the chill air go still around me. I’d never done this before, summoned a ghost who wasn’t already lingering in the Beyond. I knew I could
—
despite being new to ghostkeeping, I was powerful. Almost too powerful. Maybe if I hadn’t been, Neos would’ve ignored me, and Coby would still be alive.

Well, I couldn’t change the past, but I could alter Coby’s future. I raised my face to the sky, letting the snowflakes tickle my cheeks, feeling the energy of the Beyond. It got easier all the time to identify the supernatural tug of ghosts. Of course, standing in the middle of a cemetery probably helped.

My eyes shut, I heard the pounding of my heart and felt the blood rushing through my veins as my summoning energy expanded beyond my body. Tendrils of power flowered through the cemetery until I sensed Coby’s slumbering spirit curled nearby, as though waiting for me. I summoned him, tugging him gently toward our world.

His spirit seemed to recognize mine and came willingly. With a sudden rush I knew that I’d succeeded. I opened my eyes, waiting for his soft arrival.

Instead, when Coby’s ghost slipped into our world, a blinding burst of spectral lightning flashed. I jumped backward in surprise, and the wet snow combined with mud at the edge of the pit gave way.

I yelped as I fell into the grave.

“Crap!” I sprawled atop Coby’s casket on my butt. A noise I didn’t recognize escaped my throat
—
half revulsion and half amusement. The scent of freshly dug earth surrounded me. I covered my mouth with my hand, then noticed my palm was covered in grave muck. “Bleh!”

I stood
—
yes, still on top of Coby’s casket
—
and prayed his parents didn’t return. This was bad. This was toss-Emma-back-into-the-mental-hospital bad.

I spun, looking for a way out, and discovered Coby beside me, still in the suit he’d worn for Homecoming. Except now he was slightly transparent and his suit didn’t fit quite so well
—
and it didn’t seem possible, but he was even better looking.

Welcome back
, I said to him.

Emma! You’re all dirty.

Yeah. I, um, slipped.

He stepped forward with a crooked grin to wipe my face.
I knew I should’ve taken hand wipes to Homecoming.

Wait,
I said.
You can’t touch me.

The grin turned to a smile.
Is this some kind of purity-ring thing?

Actually, it was a ghosts-burn-ghostkeepers thing.

No,
I said.
I, um … What’s the last thing you remember?

He focused into the distance.
Wait, yeah, what happened? I drove to your house and you looked so hot in that dress and … we stepped outside and …
He didn’t quite pale, already being a ghost and all.
It was like a bad dream.

It wasn’t a dream, Coby.

I didn’t know where to start, what to tell him first. Did he remember Neos, did he know his death was all my fault?

He faded until I saw the dirt wall clearly behind him, and his face grew haggard and grim with memory. I watched his faint eyes as he recalled everything: Neos possessing his body, then trying to drown me in the pond; my turning into a ghost and battling Neos before fleeing and abandoning him.

Who are you?
he finally asked.

I’m Emma. I’m still Emma.

I mean
what
are you?

I’m a ghostkeeper. I see and compel and communicate with ghosts. I dispel them and …

And what?

I summon them.

Oh, God,
he said.
Oh, God. I’m a
ghost
!

He faded, and I called out, “Coby! Coby, come back! I’m sorry
—
please, I’m so sorry!”

The wind whispered through the bare branches of faraway trees, as he disappeared completely. Leaving me alone with my aching need to make things right with him.

You’re sorry?
he said, materializing behind me.

When I turned, his face looked harder with knowledge and determination, and I flinched. He’d vanished into the Beyond, where time wasn’t the same, and he’d had a chance to think.

Everything’s changed,
he said, his voice rough.

I know. How can you ever forgive—

Forgive you? I’m dead because of you. And you still couldn’t leave me alone.

He stepped nearer, and his grave grew smaller, the walls tightening around me. A wave of nausea rose from my stomach at the earthy smell and the knowledge that I was standing on top of Coby’s dead body
—
and at the look in his eyes, intent and furious. He was right
—
everything
had
changed
—
especially him.

He took another step and raised his hand to hover at the bare skin of my cheek.
I’ll burn you if I touch you, won’t I?

Coby, please. Please don’t.

Tears streamed down my face where he held his hand, a centimeter from my skin. I met his unearthly gaze. I couldn’t bear his transformation, or how much it reminded me of when Neos possessed him. This wasn’t the Coby I remembered. That boy never would’ve wanted to harm me, even if I deserved it.

Give me one reason why, Emma,
he said.
One reason you shouldn’t have to share my pain.

And that’s just it. I couldn’t. So I stepped into him, pressing his fingers to my face.

Pain flared on my cheek for an instant before Coby pulled back.

What are you doing?
he asked.
Haven’t you heard of dramatic effect? I don’t want to hurt you.

You don’t? I wouldn’t blame you if you did.

No. I just—
He frowned at his semitransparent hand.
I can’t believe I’m really dead
.
Forget about graduation. Forget about prom, forget about college. I’ll never play football, I’ll never hear music or—

You’ll hear music, Coby. I’ll play whatever you want.

His sad smile broke my heart.
What am I supposed to do now?

I don’t know. Go see your parents? Sara and Harry miss you. I don’t know what your life—

He shot me a look.
My what?

Okay, wrong word. Your existence?

A short nod.

I don’t know what it’s going to be like being a ghost. I’m not even sure what it’s like to be a ghostkeeper. Sometimes I wish there were a manual. But I promise you two things. I’ll always be here for you. And I’m going to find Neos—I’m going to kill him for what he did to you.

He nodded slowly, then met my gaze.
I’ll help you do it.

I smiled in relief that he didn’t hate me.
I was just hoping you’d still talk to me
.

It’s not like I’ve got so many other people to talk to. And you need all the help you can get.

Nah,
I said, trying to reassure him.
I’ve got everything under control.

Other than being trapped in my grave? Too bad you’re not a ghost—if you were, you could do this.
He shot me a crooked grin, like the old Coby, and vanished.

He had a point.

. . .

Watching Bennett carry my suitcase to the car, I couldn’t help but remember that the last time we’d gone on a trip together, I’d ended up three thousand miles from home, seeing ghosts and battling wraiths. I hoped this journey
—
to meet the Knell
—
wasn’t quite so life changing.

We left his Land Rover at the station and took the bullet train to New York. We sat in plush first-class seats, courtesy of Bennett’s family money, and a waiter brought snacks and drinks. They didn’t have chai, so I settled for English breakfast tea in a cute little plastic teacup, and watched the scenery as we glided down the track.

It was painful sitting so close to Bennett. He’d changed into a navy linen button-down that made his eyes seem almost too blue. I found it hard to focus on what he was saying when I looked straight into them. The problem was, I really wanted to brush his dark bangs out of his eyes, and kiss his perfect lips, and run my hands over his chest, and … I gulped my tea.

I couldn’t do any of that, because his sister was dead and he needed his ghostkeeping skills to find her killer. Which left me flushed and fiddling with my empty coffee cup
—
staring out the window, afraid that if I talked to him, I’d try to curl into his lap. They didn’t cover this kind of agony in advice columns.

His phone rang and he said, “Hey, look at this.”

I turned from the window to his iPhone, expecting to recognize someone’s name in the caller ID. Instead, there was a picture of the sole of a shoe. Bennett swiped his thumb over the heel, which slid open to reveal a mouthpiece.

“Bennett Stern,” he answered in a spy-like voice. “We’re on the train now. We’ll arrive at six o’clock.”

He flipped the heel closed and turned to me, grinning.

“You were talking on your shoe phone. To headquarters! Where’d you get that?”

“Off a dead KAOS agent in East Germany.”

He’d done that for me, because I’d mentioned the Knell reminded me of that
Get Smart
movie. I couldn’t help myself: I hugged him, then buried my face in his neck. I breathed in the scent of him, savoring every second. Then pressed my lips to his skin and he gasped.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away.

“I’m not.”

He leaned closer and kissed me. The train trembled and my heart beat faster. My eyes closed and I lost myself in the sweetness of it. We kept our hands to ourselves, like if only our lips touched, then maybe everything would be okay. A false hope, but it made it the sexiest kiss I’d ever experienced, feeling nothing except his lips on mine.