Page 58 of Dead Vengeance

“Strange, isn’t it?” he says, watching me. And thank god my mind is back on ghosts and hopefully he can’t tell that I was high-key hoping I was about to be seduced. “All the rooms are like this up here. I’ve warded them, so they’re safe, as far as I can tell.” He runs a finger down the doorframe, along a ring of bright blue paint around the inner edge, only really noticeable when he points at it. “I’ve done it here, and around all the other bedroom doors. And over here…” He crouches down, lifts the edge of the rug, and reveals a thick line of what I’m guessing is salt hidden beneath.

I know from television that’s supposed to stop ghosts. Who knew it was real, though?

“Does it work on all of them? Even Simon?”

“So far, so good,” he says with a smile. Then adjusts to more serious. “If you get into any trouble with a ghost—and I doubt you will, but just in case—there’s always the front door, like I said, but if you prefer, you can come in here. Go into any of the upstairs rooms. The doorways are all painted. The floors are sealed with salt. Just make sure you’re on the rugs or the beds.”

I let out a small breath of relief, actually feeling a lot safer knowing it’s not a mad dash down those tall stairs if something comes at us, but just a quick sidestep.

“Any room at all,” he says. Then he adds, “All except the room at the end of the hall. Don’t go in there.” It’s casually stated, but oddly dropped.

“The…” I glance at the doorway. “You mean towards the attic? Where the thing is?”

“No, the other way.”

“That way down the hall?” I ask, pointing my finger to the left.

“Yeah, that way. Whatever you do, don’t go into the room at that end of the hall. It’s…” He threads his hands together, then pulls them apart, twirling them, as if he’s nervous. But he was totally fine a few seconds ago. “It’s my office,” he explains, a little too tightly. “It-it’s not protected.”

My eyebrows narrow, and I guess he gets the unspoken suggestion that it’s kind of odd he’d protect unoccupied guest bedrooms and not his office.

“I’ve been quite busy,” he explains, way too fast. “With all of this. This haunting, you know? Haven’t been able to work. So, I guess… I haven’t had a chance to… do… much work?” Then he stands very abruptly. “Just don’t go in there. Okay? It’s not safe. In fact, I’d say it’s the least safe room in the entire house. So maybe just… don’t?”

“Okay…” The urge to say ‘I wasn’t going to’ climbs up my throat, but given how childish it sounds, I swallow it back down. Still, it almost feels like it needs to be said. Like I just got in trouble for sneaking around.

“Great. Thank you. But here,” he swings his arm wide around his room, “is safe. Here is safe and good. All right?”

“All right.”

He points at the door. “But not there.”

“All right.”

He searches my eyes. “Never there.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Okay. Then let’s…” He gestures towards the door.

I don’t think I’ve ever once felt less like going through a doorway than I do right now, but this needs to be done, so I take a deep breath, lock my jaw, and follow him.

Like night and day, quite literally, that invisible barrier washes over me. It’s comparatively so dark it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. I walk blind for two whole steps, then some cold and miserable horror washes over me. Like being… dipped in something. But some emotion. Like being dipped in shock and offence and disgust, and it’s completely, horribly overwhelming.

Stumbling away from the feeling, I trip straight into Archer, who catches me with hands either side of my ribcage, which thrust me back up to standing, and almost smack-bang straight into the face of a woman. A woman tall and white and… transparent.

Fuck.

Fuck!

She’s a fucking ghost!

There’s a ghost right here in the hall.

I just walked straight through a ghost.

And she looks furious about it.

She looks exactly like she’s about to kill me.