Page 20 of With All My Haunted Heart

As I trace the final sigil, I realize how poorly I’ve modulated the flow of magic, and now I’m fucked. I stumble, aiming to get back to my room before I need to lie down, but I only make it a step before my knees wobble and give out beneath me.

I land hard on my ass, the ornate rug doing nothing to soften the blow. In the bathroom, the water cuts off, and a pulse of panic cuts through my chest. I need to ground myself. Fast.

With my legs pressed against the floor, I picture the excess energy leaking out of me. A rush of wooziness makes the room spin, and I’m forced to lie on my back, the same way I was when Xander found me. Shielding four rooms in one day is too much. Deep down, though, I know quantity isn’t the problem. It’s casting magic while distracted that left me in this state.

The door behind me creaks. “Are you okay?” Elle’s voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it before, and I squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t get a peek at something I shouldn’t see.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” I focus on the press of my back against the floor. “Just a little magic overload.”

“Meaning what?” Gentle footsteps inch closer. “You overstretched your silicone straw?”

The laugh that bursts out of me forces my eyes open, and I find myself staring straight up at Elle. She’s already dressed, her T-shirt clinging to her stomach where she didn’t dry off fully, and there’s concern etched into her brow. Her wet hair drips water on my face. I wipe it away as the last of the excess energy drains out of me.

“It’s less an overstretched straw and more an overfull cup.” I roll onto my side and push to a seated position, settling there a second to make sure all the dizziness has faded. Elle reaches out a hand to help me up. “Thanks,” I say, her hand lingering in mine a moment after I’m standing.

“Did you finish the room before you needed to lie down?”

“I did.”

“And do you need a break before you do the rest of the guest rooms?”

The smart answer to her question is yes. A nap and a meal would provide a fuller reset for my energy before I continue working magic. The way she’s looking at me, though, the curiosity and challenge in her gaze, has me shaking my head. “Not necessarily, no.”

Elle runs her hands through her hair and begins twisting the ends into a quick braid. “Can I watch the next one?”

Warmth rushes through my middle, and I find myself nodding. “Sure.”

Friday night, Xander throws me a curveball.

“I know Sloane wants to run their fancy psychic seminars here, but what about us normies?” He points his fork at me, currently loaded with swirled pasta. “What if I want to talk to the ghosts myself?”

“I’m not finding you a ghost boyfriend,” I deadpan, forgetting for a second that Elle is with us at the table. She nearly chokes on her drink.

Xander glares at me, but there’s no real fire to the look. “You know I was kidding about that.”

“Do I?”

“I’m just saying, what if you find ghosts who led inspiring lives? Or salacious ones? We should be able to talk to them.” He tips more wine into his glass. And mine. “Even if they’re boring, they’ll still be our roommates. We should know who they are.”

I’m about to dismiss the idea, when Elle chimes in. “Actually, I agree with Alex. If we could communicate with the ghosts, that would be ideal.” Her voice is heavy with emotion that I don’t understand, but it’s gone when she continues. “It would add an interesting element to the marketing. Sloane obviously won’t want their people to have easy access to seeing the ghosts, since the whole point of the retreat is growing their own skills at spiritual communication, but for other guests, it could be a huge draw.”

“I’ll add it to my list. No promises I can figure it out before your grand opening, though.”

“I’d like to show a sexy ghost my grand opening,” Xander quips, causing both Elle and me to groan.

“And that’s my cue to call it a night.” Elle gathers up our plates and disappears into the kitchen.

I watch her leave, wondering what exactly her deal is. Though I keep trying to squash the thought, deep down, I want to know everything. What kinds of people she’s dated, if she likes to date at all. What happened to change her from the carefree girl Xander talked about to this reserved, stubborn woman?

I don’t ask, and I don’t see Elle the rest of the night.

Xander and I stay up late reminiscing about our college years. We put on an action movie but talk through most of it. About the first girl I dated. The boy on the swim team Xander pined for from afar.

We avoid the sensitive topics. Like Barrett. Like the time I found out my grandma had died, and no one bothered to let me know until months after the funeral since I wasn’t an Erikson anymore. We keep it light and fall asleep together in my bed until I have to kick Xander out because of his snoring.

Saturday morning, I head for the manor’s library with a stack of books. I’m starting to go stir-crazy spending so much time in the same room. The moment I step into the library, I know I’ve made the right choice. It has several huge windows with intricate molding that let in massive amounts of light. One window has already been opened a crack to let in a cool breeze that smells like crisp leaves and pine and a touch of far-off woodsmoke.

Then there are the books.