I’d win her over with my tongue, one orgasm at a time.
I’d touch her until she became addicted—but I can’t.
She grabs a robe from the hook behind the closet door and wraps it around her frame. “How are you here? I thought you were tied to the lantern,” she enunciates.
“I’d rather haunt you,” I admit, floating closer.
The lantern doesn’t tether me anymore. To be honest, I’m not sure if it ever did. I’d just assumed it was important because whenever Devi and Mabel had exchanged it, I’d found myself following it from one house to the other.
I press myself against Max, the sum of me brushing the limits of her body. The fabric of her robe clings to her breasts, droplets of water peppering her neck.
I inhale deeply.
She tucks her hands behind her back. “Well—you can’t stay.”
I dip a hand to the sash tied around her waist and trace the knot. “You escaped the monsters for one night. That doesn’t mean you’re safe. You need to come home with me.”
Her throat bobs. “Home? I’m already home. With the man I chose to marry.”
Fuck, I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. But now that I have, I want to double down on it. I need to call her out for her hypocrisy, because there’s no way in the seven hells she still wants to marry this chump.
“We all make stupid choices. It’s not too late to dump him,” I chuckle darkly.
Her lips form a thin line. “This is all a big joke to you, isn’t it?”
Words rise out of me, driven by a feral but frighteningly familiar urge to provoke her. I’m dying to see what lies at the bottom of this slippery slope.
“You belong to me, little fox. And dead or not, it’s me you want between your legs, not him. You can stand there and lie to me, but at least have the decency not to lie to yourself. He has no idea who you are or what you need.”
She scoffs. “And you do?”
I was a devil in life. It’s sensible that I should be one in death, too.
I reach for her chin, stopping just short of contact, and I know that if she unclenched her fists and reached for me, her fingers wouldn’t pass through. Not like before.
If she gave in—if she shoved me away, or pulled me closer, or both—I’d show her exactly what she’s missing.
“You pretend that you want safety or normalcy, but that’s a lie. See your hands? You’re shaking from the effort not to touch me.”
“You’re wrong.”
My little fox is a good liar, but not that good. Her chest is all flushed, the hardened peaks of her breasts showing through the thin silk of her robe, and the delicious scent of her arousal goes straight to my ghost-cock.
“You want me to unravel that knot and make you see stars. I’d remove that ugly ring with my teeth, first, then show you howa man should treat hisfiancé.” I infuse the word with as much disgust as I can summon. “And you wouldloveit.”
She blinks away the tears shining in her eyes. I’m pushing her too far and raw, but I can’t help myself.
Her lips part, but nothing comes out, like the words got stuck somewhere between outrage and a hard place she doesn’t want to acknowledge. Her hands curl tighter at her sides, like she doesn’t trust them. Like they might betray her if she lets them move.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” she finally growls. “You crossed a line. You’re not leaving me any other choice.”
When she finally steps away, her movements are almost frantic. She rummages through the closet and hauls out a leather suitcase. It lands at the foot of the bed with a loud thud. She unlatches the lid, revealing candles, incense, and a huge plastic pit of salt.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Maybe I overplayed my hand.
“I’m doing another spell.”
