Page 86 of With All My Haunted Heart

It’s hard to ignore those voices, to remind myself that Elle said those things when she was hurt beyond measure, but I do my best. I swallow back the feelings of inadequacy and grief, clear the sense of failure from my throat, and focus on Dea. “Is the job cool? Something you’re excited about?”

Her smile starts shy but brightens as she speaks. “It is, yeah. Nothing will be as cool as working for you, but I’ll be in charge of organizing systems for this massive nonprofit. They have all these initiatives to increase STEM education in underserved communities. It’s funny, setting up all these automated systems for you helped me get the job.”

“That’s…that’s great, Dea. I’m excited for you.” And I am, beneath the feelings of loss and hurt and the twinge of betrayal that I have no right to feel. She’s allowed to work anywhere she wants. I can’t fault her for wanting to jump from a sinking ship before it drags her down.

“It’s going to be great for you, too.” Dea reaches across the desk, and I let her take my hands. “Without my salary as an expense, you’ll have a longer runway to get the business back on track. Especially with the bonus you’ll get since you successfully haunted the B&B. This is a good thing. For both of us.”

She drops my hands, her fingers flying over the keyboard again. “Ready to learn the new systems? I figured we could use my last two weeks to get you proficient in everything, brainstorm new offerings to attract clients, and then I can make sure the website is updated before I go.”

“That would be great,” I say, but my voice is flat. Broken and small and pathetic. I push myself to my feet. “I’m going to get coffee first.”

I flee the room without waiting to see whether Dea believes the excuse. The tears start the moment I’ve closed myself in the small break room, and I frantically trace a concealment sigil to soundproof the space before loud sobs tear from my throat.

That’s some serial killer shit, Pippa.

Elle’s voice in my head sends me to my knees. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to use this sigil again without thinking of her. Of the first time I cast it for her in the library, when she wanted to hide her own grief. Holding her tight the night I first found out about Willa’s cancer and terminal diagnosis. Of the night—just four days ago—when the sound barrier hid her eager moans from prying ears.

A deep, jagged ache forms beneath my ribs. Why can’t I let the past month be a fun memory? Why do I keep letting myself care about people who throw me away?

By the time the tears dry, my knees hurt and my back aches.

Dea doesn’t say anything about how long I was gone. Doesn’t mention that I returned from the break room without the coffee that I said I was leaving to get. She lets me keep my secrets. For now.

I settle in my seat and nod for her to get started. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

An undignified yelp escapes my throat as daggerlike claws pierce the flesh of my calves, causing both grimoires to slip off my lap. It took over a week before I was ready to think about anything to do with the B&B, but it’s been eleven days since the opening now. It’s time to update my grimoires with the final designs I created and move on.

I reach beneath my bent knees and dislodge the kitten’s claws from the soft fabric of my joggers. “Don’t make me regret rescuing you, Cocoa.” Tucking the black cat into the crook of my arm, I wiggle my fingers as her tiny paws bat at me. “You are an absolute nuisance,” I say with affection. “Where’s your sister? Go chew on her tail or something.”

As if summoned by my voice, Cocoa’s orange-and-white counterpart, Waffles, flings herself at the couch cushions and dashes away. Kitty parkour at its finest. Cocoa wriggles in my grip, and I set her down to chase after her sister.

I pick up the grimoires to finish transferring my notes about the spirit boards, but the doorbell rings before I can get truly settled. The kittens scatter, tiny feet pitter-pattering across the floor as they dash toward the bedroom, likely to hide under the dresser.

“Just a minute!” I call, setting the grimoire down and running a hand through my hair, glad I decided to shower and dress first thing this morning even though I don’t go into an office every day anymore. Won’t be going back at all after Dea’s last day. I peer through the peephole, expecting the groceries I ordered, only to find a familiar pair of blue eyes staring back at me instead.

“Xander?” I hold the door open between us and glance past him into the hall, but he’s alone. “What are you doing here? Did something go wrong with the ghosts?”

Cocoa darts through my legs and tries to escape through the open door, but the magical barrier I spelled to keep the kittens inside bounces her back. I learned my lesson the first night I had the kittens here, after they escaped when I opened the door to accept my Thai food delivery.

Xander tilts his head and studies the pair of kittens blinking owlish eyes at him. “Well, hello.” He bends and reaches past the barrier to pet them. “Since when do you have cats?”

“Since last week when I adopted them.” I can’t stop my attention from flicking past him, a foolish part of me still hoping that Elle will appear from around the corner.

“It’s just me, Pip.” He steps past the threshold to pick up Waffles and cradles the fluffy menace in his arms. “Can we talk?”

“Always.” I close the door behind him, tension wrapping up my spine. “Is everything okay at the B&B?”

Xander kicks off his shoes without being asked and settles on the couch next to my grimoires. Waffles squirms out of his hold and attacks his toes. “I’m not here about work, Pippa.”

A pit of dread settles heavy in my gut. If he’s here about Elle…Did she tell him about us? Or is this about Willa’s death?

“You’re not?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

Xander shoos the kittens away from his feet and reaches for my hand, pulling me to sit beside him on the couch. “After the funeral, Lou finally told me what happened between you two. I’ve been worried, and you never answer my calls. I needed to make sure you were okay.”