Page 18 of With All My Haunted Heart

“Short version…” I say, coming around the table to stand next to her, pointedly ignoring the way my pulse thrums loud in my ears as I close the distance between us. “There’s magic everywhere. Raw, untapped power in everyone and everything. We’re all connected by this infinite web of energy.”

Her brows scrunch. The corners of her mouth twist down. “If magic is infinite, why aren’t witches running around raising the dead or…I don’t know, putting out forest fires or something.”

“Those are wildly different examples.”

Her face twitches, like she’s fighting a smile. A thrill of victory washes through me. I want to make her smile. I want to hear her laugh just to prove that it’s possible.

“My question stands.”

“Magic is infinite,” I repeat. “Humans are not. We’re like…” I search for the right analogy. Something less dorky than the one I gave Xander all those years ago, but nothing comes. I sigh and dive in. “Okay, imagine that magic is like a bottomless iced coffee that can never be depleted. Witches like me are straws. Mundanes, like you and Xander, you’re like…coffee stirrers.”

This time, the corner of her lips does quirk up. The corresponding eyebrow raising with it. “Straws and stirrers?”

“It’s not a perfect analogy, but yes. Everyone can technically access magic, but those stirrer holes can’t channel enough magic to do anything.” I trace the celebration sigil on my palm, showing off the tiny fireworks. “Witches, on the other hand, are proper straws. Some are those little bendy straws you get in bulk at the dollar store. Some are bigger, like the ones you might get with a soda at the drive-thru. Then there are the big daddy straws, for things like boba tea.”

“Which kind are you?”

I consider the question with her same level of seriousness. “We don’t stay the same straw size for our whole lives. The more often we work with magic, the more we can channel. But right now, I guess I’m one of those reusable silicone straws people use for smoothies.”

“That’s very eco-friendly of you.” Elle leans her hip against the table and crosses her arms against her chest. “That doesn’t explain why there aren’t armies of undead wandering around.”

“Is that what you want to turn this B&B into? A training ground for zombies?”

She snorts a laugh that reminds me of Xander, gentler but just as delightful. A thrill of victory buzzes through my veins. “Definitely not.”

“If you say so,” I tease before I can think better of it. Fuck. I should not be flirting with this woman, no matter how much my body seems drawn to her. “Back to our analogy, if magic is a bottomless iced coffee and witches are straws, even a million of the biggest straws could only move so much magic at once.”

“And the amount of magic it would take to create my zombie battalion is beyond the capacity of witches. Even all your straws together couldn’t move enough…coffee.” Elle smirks at me, teasing me right back.

A fluttery feeling swirls in my stomach, but I ignore it. I have to ignore it. She’s a client. She’s Xander’s sister in every way but blood. My focus needs to be on haunting this business. Helping to secure their investors. Helping Xander recover from his broken engagement.

“I thought you weren’t planning to raise an army.” I try to sound nonchalant, but my words come out breathy and charged.

Elle shrugs and pushes away from the table. “Not anymore. Since it’s impossible.” She heads for the door, and I watch her go, my heart in my throat. “See you at breakfast, Pippa. I look forward to watching you work.”

Chapter

Seven

Over the next few days, I settle into a comfortable rhythm.

I eat breakfast with Xander and Elle first thing each morning before retreating to my room to research and plan. There isn’t much in the literature about summoning ghosts beyond short-term communication with loved ones who have gone beyond the veil—exclusively done on Halloween when the veil is thinnest—so I focus on preventive measures first.

Everyone agrees that all the bedrooms should be guarded against spirits to give guests adequate privacy. So that’s where I begin. It takes another day to figure out the exact collection of sigils to use on each room. The boundary needs to keep ghosts out while allowing the living to pass through undisturbed.

But it also needs to allow spirits to leave a bedroom on the off chance one does manage to get inside.

“If the barrier works, ghosts shouldn’t be able to enter at all,” Elle had argued over dinner when I first proposed this tweak to the barrier spell. “Why bother making sure they can get out?”

“What if a guest dies while staying in the room? You don’t want their spirit trapped there until I can make the trip to let them out.”

Xander had laughed so hard he’d snorted. “Of course you’d worry about people dropping dead.”

I’d made some quip about being thorough, and Elle ultimately agreed with the plan. And now, I’ve finally settled on a heavily customized barrier spell that fits the needs of the B&B. I test it on my room first, tracing an amplification sigil in the center of the space to serve as an ongoing power source for the spell, then adding the seven sigils I chose for this purpose to each corner, doorway, and window.

By the time I’m finished, the current of magic buzzing through my body leaves me overheated and dizzy. I lower myself to the floor, flat on my back, grounding the excess magic and guiding it back into the earth.

That’s where Xander finds me a few minutes later. “You know there’s a very expensive mattress right there.”