“Oh, she’ll forget the ghoul,” the wicked woman laughed.
“Are you all right?” Sven asked.
“What?” She shook her head, touching her temple. “What did you say?”
“You went into a trance and I asked if you were all right.”
“I think so. I saw something, but it’s gone.” It was a complete lie because it was still there, fresh in her mind, but she didn’t want to tell him what she saw because she didn’t fully trust him yet. Something was holding her back, just like some unseen force was drawing her to him. “What do you know about my fate?”
“You disappeared from my life a century ago, and I never knew what happened to you until recently. What Mercedes told you about the whole situation is what she told me. That your family found out that you were going to run away with me and hired witches to either erase your memories or force you into some kind of mind control, only the curse backfired and you disappeared, which left you in the state you’re in.”
“And my name is Florence. I saw a painting once and it looks like me.”
Sven smiled at her softly. “Yes. Florence or Flo, and this was your house.”
“People did live here for a short time, a long time ago, and then I don’t know when the house became abandoned because I hid for a long time.”
“Your father was a funeral director and a bootlegger.”
Flo frowned. “I do remember funerals here, but also parties that didn’t seem somber.”
“Well, parties like he threw were against the law. It was a perfect cover, having a prohibited booze-fueled party at a funeral parlor.” Sven walked swiftly to the wall, not where she’d been hiding, but the opposite wall, and he pulled on a sconce. There was a creak and metal gears grinding as the bookcase slowly opened into a brick hall. “The small hallway leads down to an enclosed speakeasy. It’s where he hid the gin. Although I don’t know for sure, because I can’t go all the way down there.”
Flo peered around the bookcase. Something about that hallway seemed familiar. “But you did go?”
Sven nodded. “It’s blocked by a stone wall. I don’t know where the mechanism is to open the door, so I can only assume that’s how he moved the booze through. I just discovered it last month. I’ve been so focused on getting the dead-and-breakfast opened, I haven’t explored all the hidden secrets of this place. I’m sure there are other places.”
“I’ve been down the hallway before, but I don’t travel this way. Not usually. None of the other ghosts travel this way.”
“Well, I can tell you why. Cold iron. It’s why I don’t like it.”
“Why?”
“Honestly, it’s a bit repellent to me as well, being that I’m a ghoul and undead. There are several places like this that were obviously meant to keep out unwanted guests.Allunwanted guests.”
Flo took a step forward, as if it was pulling her. “Yes, but it’s like a magnet for me and I think I know why.”
Sven cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“At the end of this hallway, the speakeasy room where my father ran gin and alcohol, is where I was trapped. It’s where I go. I think my enclosure, or my tomb, was the speakeasy, which explains why no one was ever able to find me or see me. The cold iron doesn’t bother me and might be part of my curse.”
Chapter
Three
“The speakeasy?” Sven asked in trepidation. It made sense in a way, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’s why the curse had rebounded. Cold iron infused walls. It’s why graveyards often had wrought iron fences around them and why some homes hung horseshoes above their doors. It wasn’t just about luck, it was about protection.
If she was cursed in an iron-infused room, then what kind of curse was she imbued with? Flo didn’t glow blue like the other spirits.
Sven didn’t want to go down that hallway, but he also wanted to know where Flo went. Maybe he could start to piece together what had happened to her, and then help her recover her memories. Then they could be together.
If she was imbued with cold iron and sort of undead like him, it could explain why the other ghosts didn’t like her and why she was invisible to most. He only hoped he could be with her and it didn’t repel him. Although, that was a risk he was willing to take. She didn’t care much about the hall or the speakeasy at the moment, but he was trying to help jog her memory.
In reality, it was taking all his energy not to rush into her arms and hold her close. When she reappeared after all the other spirits began to leave, it’s what he wanted to do. He’d missed her so much over the last century and there had been no other for him.
His heart completely belonged to Flo.
Always had.
