Page 25 of With All My Haunted Heart

It’s nearly eight by the time I pull into the long driveway. The night chill sweeps across my skin when I leave the car and gather my things. Goose bumps prickle along my arms, my chest, the back of my neck. I shiver, the stars overhead judging me for the anticipation that swirls in my gut.

The front door is unlocked, so I let myself in. A burst of chicken and herbs and warmth fills my senses, and I’m sad I missed dinner. The manor itself is quiet. No signs of Xander or Elle on the main floor. In the dining room, I find a note from Elle.

Saved you a bowl. It’s in the fridge.

Beneath the single line is a PS written in Xander’s familiar lazy scrawl. I want to hear all about your ghost busting in the morning!

I can’t imagine either of them is already asleep, but I creep up the stairs and slip quietly into my temporary bedroom just in case. Exhaustion floods my system at the sight of the queen-size bed and its mountain of pillows. While I unpack from the trip, I wonder idly how upset Elle will be if I save the soup for breakfast tomorrow. All I want right now is twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.

As I work, a to-do list for tomorrow slots into place in my head. I’ll need to cleanse all the tools I used, I note as I unload everything from my bag onto the credenza by the door. And set up additional safety measures so I can release this asshole and test the room barriers.

Careful not to touch the lepidolite with my skin, I collect the trapped spirit by the fabric I’ve wrapped around the crystal and set it next to the other tools. I’ll have to make sure Xander and Elle are safely out of the way when I begin my tests.

I have a feeling that things could get dicey, if what happened at Jackie and Marisol’s house is any indication.

A soft rap on my door draws my attention, and I turn to see Elle loitering in the open doorway. I must look as bedraggled as I feel, because her eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” I assure her. “Long day.”

Elle steps into the room, her shock shifting into something softer. Something that looks suspiciously like concern. “Do you need tea or something? Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine. I promise.” I run a hand over my face, trying to wipe away the bone-deep exhaustion. “A solid night’s sleep and I’ll be good as new.”

Elle worries at her lower lip. “And everything went okay? With the ghost?”

I perch on the edge of the bed to ease the ache in my back. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me.” Though I mean for the words to be teasing, there’s a flash of anger in Elle’s eyes alongside the flush creeping up her neck.

“I’m not heartless.” She crosses her arms tight against her chest. “Besides, if something happens to you, we won’t have time to find a replacement witch. Our grand opening is only twenty-seven days away. Twenty-six, really, since today is basically over.”

“Well, I’m glad my well-being is convenient for you.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Elle sighs, and her rigid posture deflates. “I’ll let you get some rest. We can talk in the morning.” As she turns to leave, her hip catches the side of the credenza. The lepidolite falls to the floor and rolls out of its protective cloth. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Elle, wait—”

My warning dies in my throat as Elle stoops to collect the crystal, her fingers skimming across the lepidolite’s bare surface. A burst of light flashes between us, near blinding, before the crystal cracks in half and a dangerous cold seeps into the room.

“What the hell?” Elle stumbles toward the bed, away from the shadow that rises from the broken crystal, her back crashing into my chest as I stand. “Is that—”

“Look out!” I shove Elle out of the way as the shadow dives toward us. The thoroughly pissed-off ghost slams into me, and without any fresh wards in place, it passes through the barrier of my energy. Anger courses through me, anger that isn’t mine, as the spirit scrambles for purchase. As it tries to seize command of my body.

I fall to my knees, a feeling so cold it burns as it races through my veins. The ghost takes control of one hand, squeezing it into a fist, testing my strength. I fight to shove it back. Fight to get my other hand free from the floor to trace a banishing sigil, but every time I try to raise it, the ghost slams my hand back down.

If I can’t trace the sigil soon, I’m fucked.

“Elle.” Her name scrapes across my throat. “Taser.”

Her green eyes are saucer wide. “What?”

“The…Taser.” Pain lances down my spine, and I arch away from the hurt. It doesn’t help. There’s no escaping the agony taking over my body. A strangled cry escapes my lips. “Electricity,” I grit out. “Destroys…spirits.”

“It’s in you?” she asks. Then: “Wait. I can’t electrocute you!”

“Have to.” Black spots dance across my vision. A gruff laugh echoes in my head, the voice deep and raspy and full of malice. I fight to raise my gaze to hers. “Please. Before it…takes…over.”

Elle backs away from me. “Alex?” She raises her voice. “Alex!”

The moment she turns away to call for Xander again, my consciousness shudders and slips away from the surface. Then I’m sinking, sinking, sinking into the recesses of my mind. My body acts without my permission, rising slowly to its feet. Desire for violence pulses through me. A deeper version of my voice snakes past my lips.