How to Kill a Ghost (12 page)

“That could be dangerous since it’s obvious this person knows about possession. She has also been there for weeks. I’m wondering if the bond you spoke of is weakening because the body is bonding with her?”

“No!” I jumped to my feet. “I refuse to believe that.”

“I’m just speculating here, Libby. We don’t know anything for sure, but what I’m certain of is we have to be careful. Remember the banishing? This person might know the way to do it. From inside a body, she might be able to banish you.”

“It keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sorry.”

I sighed. “Heartily full of people saying sorry, including myself.”

Isabelle clutched my hand. “Okay, well whatever we do, we have to drive the person out of you without hurting your body. That’s the tricky part.”

I frowned. “I need to talk to Ian, but he has a barrier up at his house. He probably isn’t staying there. I could call to him, but I hesitate because Tevin might come too.”

“You can call to him, meaning wherever you are?”

I noted the interest in her gaze and hesitated. What difference did it make? She knew Ian and I were close. No need to hide it. “Yes, he can call to me too. I don’t know why.”

“He drank your blood?”

Embarrassment permeated my being as if we were talking of intimacy. “I…”

Isabelle sighed. “I can’t say I like you seeing him, Libby, but I have no right to tell you who to see or not to see. You’re not compatible with a vampire even if you had your body back.”

“You’re still partial to Clark and me.”

“I know you don’t feel that way about him.”

I offered her a sad smile. “But you think I could if it weren’t for Ian.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She didn’t have to. No matter that Ian saved her from his brother and carried her to the hospital, Isabelle still saw him as the enemy. I didn’t like the thought of her beginning to think of
me
as the enemy if she knew all of the truth.

“Clark is really sweet, a good guy through and through,” I said. “Not that I’m a woman who goes for bad boys. It’s just that you can’t really claim Ian is good per se.”

Isabelle’s eyebrows rose. “Was Mason a bad boy?”

I had never told anyone except Monica what Mason was like in private. Bad boys were notoriously horrible partners. They were not for the long term. Mason hid the darker side to his personality until we were married. He had always been authoritative and take-charge, which as a younger woman, I had loved. I liked it a little even now. I learned better. Should I apply the same lesson to Ian and let him go? The difference with Ian though was he didn’t hide his nature from me, not exactly. He had been honest right away that he didn’t hold to human morality, and that should send me running, but even as I sat there pondering my relationship with him, I knew I would refuse to let go given half a chance. Ian never belittled me, and he had demonstrated my importance to him on many occasions.

“Mason wasn’t good for me,” I said, leaving it at that.

“Then you should want good, shouldn’t you?”

“Look at you,” I said.

Her face reddened, and I rushed to explain.

“You’re a witch with powers. Ian’s a vampire. I’m a ghost. I know I won’t have anything special about me once I regain my body, but I’ve touched the supernatural. Can I ever go back to normal? Not really. I’ll still know about you, and I’ll still know Ian and other creatures exist in this world. I will no longer be able to stick my head in the sand and live my happy little life the way I did.”

“Makes sense,” she agreed. “To look at it another way, after all the uncertainty, there can be stability and safety. The constant threat of being banished won’t hang over your head anymore. You can find love—
human
love—that lasts a lifetime. It’s possible.”

It’s not.
I thought about Clark and the death mark. I thought about the potential of having that same curse hanging over me. I might become a physical being again, but I no longer belonged. The knowledge wouldn’t have made me sad except I might not see Jake grow up, and I might have to attend Clark’s funeral. Knowing about Ian and Isabelle opened my eyes to how humans shared the world. I liked being aware and wouldn’t change it for anything. All I had experienced was not a bad thing.

“It’s something to think about,” I conceded, and she seemed satisfied with that answer.

“I didn’t want to say,” she told me with hesitance in her tone.

I looked at her. “What is it?”

She sighed. “Clark told me they have Ian back in lockup. The walls have been repaired, and they’ve set someone to watch him around the clock.”

I frowned. Around the clock seemed impossible. Ian would need to feed. Why had he submitted to the police? To think he sat behind bars with his brother free bothered me, partly because I knew Tevin had committed the murder and also because I felt less safe. I decided to visit him at the jail and talk to him about the new developments. Ian knew about possessions. He might know how we could drive the person out of my body.

“I’m going to go see him,” I said, and Isabelle frowned. That’s why she hadn’t wanted to tell me. She wanted us separated, maybe until I came to my senses and chose Clark or at least stopped seeing Ian.

“Clark probably won’t let you see him,” Isabelle discouraged me. “Not after the break out. He won’t be allowed visitors no matter who it is.”

“I don’t intend to ask permission.”

She pursed her lips.

I stood up and faded a little to float toward the door.

“Libby,” she called after me, and I stopped to glance over my shoulder.

She met my gaze, and a chill ran through my being.

“Have you ever possessed anyone?”

My jaw dropped, and I willed myself as far away as possible from that hospital room. I know. It was a total copout.

I arrived at the station soon after leaving Isabelle to find the place quiet and mostly empty. The dispatcher nodded off and on, falling asleep. The phones had stopped ringing. I floated by him and reached Clark’s office. A light shined from beneath the door, but I didn’t pause. At the back of the station in the cell area, Will leaned a chair against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed. I peered past him. As I’d heard, the walls were repaired, and the place smelled of plaster and paint, but the cell stood empty. I frowned.

Will jerked awake, stood to stretch, and then walked to an empty cell. He peered in at the cot inside, pillow untouched, blanket folded at the base. Then he strode back to his chair, sat down, and crossed his arms again. Sympathy for the poor man washed over me, pulling long hours watching a cell with no prisoner. Ian could have at least glamoured the men to think they had someone watching him, couldn’t he? I vowed to talk to him about it when he showed himself.

Feeling I had left Monica alone with the imposter long enough, I willed myself to my home and listened outside the door before entering. No sounds reached me, so I went in. The person in my body sat on the couch watching TV. Shivers raced over me seeing her so natural and comfortable. I searched the rest of the house and found Monica gone, so I zipped out to her house and discovered her asleep in her own bed. Satisfied she was safe, I returned home. For a solid hour, I hovered in the corner watching the woman. She got up every now and then, to use the bathroom, to search the refrigerator, and complain about my choices of food. I examined my body and frowned. She had put on at least ten pounds if I had to guess. What had she been feeding my body? Anger surged through me, but I forced myself to wait and stay silent. First I would observe—at least until Isabelle and I figured out what to do or Ian gave me insight. I considered risking it to call him, but I hesitated. This might be my only chance to get my body back, and if Tevin arrived as well, I might find this opportunity slipping away.

Who was she? Where did she come from? A new thought struck me. What if it wasn’t a woman inside my body at all, or what if it wasn’t a human spirit? Thinking that way creeped me out too much, so I tried to clear my mind of all except for taking back my body.

At two in the morning, the person rose from the couch to return to the kitchen.

Again! Do you have a hole inside you?

Frustrated, I floated near the ceiling just above the refrigerator. Below me the appliance sputtered, and I wondered if my state of mind interfered with it. That’s all I would need, to return to my body with a new refrigerator bill. Above the cabinets seemed safer, so I shifted there. The curtains stirred, and the woman and I turned toward the kitchen doorway at the same time. My heart constricted seeing Ian’s handsome face. His cool expression didn’t change seeing my body, but I was certain he knew the woman standing there wasn’t me, and that I hovered nearby. Ian had such control of his emotions, he didn’t even look my way. I heard his voice in my head for an instant say,
“This person is...?”

The imposter’s hands shook, and her eyes widened. Blood drained from her face. She worked her jaw, but no sound came out.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice low and deadly. He advanced a step into the kitchen, and she backed up, bumping into the counter. I found her reaction odd because of the way she had behaved with Monica. Did she fear men, or just Ian?

“Y-You aren’t welcome here,” she said, stuttering. “Get out.”

I waited for Ian to find himself propelled out the door, but apparently the power that forbid vampires from entering a human’s home had to be backed up by the human’s real spirit. My own spirit soared at the knowledge, and Ian advanced another step.

The woman frowned. She scrambled on my countertop for a weapon and pulled a knife from the block there. I knew Ian could move faster than she could ever hope to. Still, he paused. When he did, the woman seemed to find courage. “Why does a vampire have access to this house?”

He narrowed his eyes. “So you know what I am.”

“I can spot your kind from a mile away. Why has she given you permission to enter?”

He folded his arms. “Maybe she does not know what I am.”

She shook her head. “She’d know after a while. That’s not it.”

“Oh? You know Liberty that well?”

The woman laughed, my voice but definitely not my laughter. I hated it and considered dropping a pot on her head to get her to stop. That would be giving my own body a headache, so I resisted.

“I don’t know Liberty at all,” the woman said.

She couldn’t. Not calling me Liberty, that’s for sure.

“Liberty.” Another cackle, which made me cringe. “What a pretentious name. Is it because her mother thought she had found freedom? Tell me, vampire. Why are you able to come in here?”

“She belongs to me.”

Seeing the scowl of hatred on my own face made me ill. “You used her! Just like your kind.”

Ian didn’t appear to be insulted. He didn’t care what humans thought of him. “You are using her body. Are you different? I am Liberty’s friend.”

“Impossible!” Her shriek echoed throughout the house. “Get out of here now, or I’ll hurt her. I swear I will.”

Ian flashed fangs. He stood as still as a statue for a few seconds, and then the curtains stirred again as he disappeared. A soft click in the hallway was the only indication he’d opened and shut the front door. The knife clattered to the floor, and the imposter sagged against the counter. She pressed a hand to her chest, panting. I could guess she knew what a vampire could do to a spirit let alone a human body, so Ian terrified her. I also began to realize Ian’s honesty in this case was a mistake. He should have let this person believe I meant nothing to him to gain the advantage. Now it was too late. She would know Ian didn’t want her to hurt my body.

“Show yourself!”

I started at the shout and looked down at the woman. She strode through the kitchen, glancing around, and walked out to the hallway.

“I know you’re here, Liberty. Do you think I’m some kind of fool?” She strode to the living room and searched the empty room there. “Show yourself.”

I stood behind her and willed myself into the room rather than pass through her. The wicked grin got to me, and I spun away.

“You want answers, right?” she said.

I froze.

“I’m the only one who can answer them.”

I was scared but desperate. I had no choice. Taking the plunge, I moved to the opposite side of the room and came into view. Her grin broadened. She gave a expansive sweep of her arm and ducked her head a few inches as if to bow. “Agnes Beck.”

Female.
For some reason, that gave me a bit of relief. “Human?”

“Of course human, you dunce.”

I frowned at her. She took me by surprise when she stuck her head out of my body to allow me to see the real her. I stared in wonder and confusion at the older woman, maybe late fifties, early sixties. Her shock of stark white hair had been pulled back into messy bun, and her eyebrows might not have seen tweezers or wax
ever
.

I took a step toward her, but she popped back inside my body. I scoured my mind for a way to get her out. “Why don’t you come out so we can speak easier?” I suggested.

She chuckled. “Do you know how long I’ve been at this?”

I hazarded a guess just to keep the conversation going, and she laughed again.

“I am in fact three hundred years old.”

My jaw dropped.

“I see you’re impressed. Actually, I was born three hundred years ago—roughly. As you saw by my spirit, I lived to fifty-three, and then my body got sick. I was dying. I wasn’t ready for that, so I swapped to a new body to stay alive.”

I blinked at her. She’d just told me she
decided
to take on a new body as if anyone could do it whenever they chose. Instead of giving me understanding, I felt like she’d produced more questions. Before I could formulate just one of my queries, she reached up and brushed the hair off her—
my
—forehead. My spirit waivered in and out of visibility.

“This always happens, and I have to switch eventually. But you’re special.”

I faded out completely and began to wail. My heart shattered into a million pieces. At first I could hear nothing over my own cries, and then she drew closer, screaming at me. “Shut up! Do you want to bring the vampires upon us? Or worse?”