Page 21 of Purrfectly Haunted

There is only one sconce above our head, and its light barely reaches half the shelves. The huge fireplace is fireless, of course, no one in their right mind would start a fire in here nowadays.

Ewan walks to the nearest shelf and trails his fingers over the books. “Shirley said guests often leave books they bought after reading them, contributing to expand the collection.”

“I believe that,” I say, spying some romance titles. I pull a book out and snort when I realise the cover is a shirtless Highlander with long hair and a really big sword. “I bet Lana is contributing, too.”

When we met her in the evening, she was opening a package from the mail containing books, three of her cats trailing behind her.

For some reason, neither Ewan nor I mentioned the deflated air mattress to the staff.

“Where do you think she is?” Ewan whispers by my ear. He’s talking about the Lady in Red.

“We can bring her out with puns again.”

“Please don’t...” he hisses. “I’m tired of facing angry ghosts.”

“Well, maybe we could—” but I stop talking, noticing the figure now standing by the window, bathed in moonlight.

The Lady in Red, like her name implies, is wearing a blood-red robe. Her long, blonde hair is falling over her back in a silky waterfall, and her elegant bare foot is resting on one of the pillows on the floor by the window.

Is this how it feels for Ewan, when ghosts simply appear out of the blue in his surroundings? It must be jarring.

From the way his hand is now gripping mine, he definitely sees her, too.

“Say something,” I whisper to him.

He takes a shaky breath. “Hi...” he says quietly. Then again louder, “Hi, m’lady.”

The ghost slowly turns to face us. Her beauty is breathtaking. Porcelain skin, red lips, and doe eyes. She was a renowned prostitute in New Town at the time of her death, loved and desired by many, until one of her jilted lovers strangled her—at least that’s what the notebook says. Her robe is open in the front showing her impressive cleavage, and giving us a glimpse of her generous breast. Even in the dim light I can see the bruises around her slender neck.

“Ah, the ghost hunters, come to me at last,” she says in a strained voice. I wonder if it’s the effect of her strangulation. “Are you here to release me from my torment, my loves?”

Her gentle apparition is disarming after the way the Burning Crone and the Urchin came at us.

“Yes...,” Ewan says. “I’m releasing you, my lady. You are free to join the afterlife.”

The Lady in Red shudders and closes her eyes, tilting her head up. Silk bonds fall around her before disappearing. “Oh, it feel… strange. But good. Thank you.”

Can it be that simple?

We wait, but she doesn’t fade away like the others.

“My lady?” Ewan says. “You’re free to go.”

She opens her eyes, at last, and looks at us. “I thank you, boys, but I cannot leave just yet. The house needs me.”

I frown. “Needs you for what?”

She sighs deeply. “He’s breaking free.”

Ewan and I share a glance.

“Who is?” I ask.

She smiles, and her teeth suddenly look too sharp and white in the moonlit library. “Go on, my loves. Go free the others. I’ll stay for however long we can hold the frontline.”

“What is she talking about?” Ewan whispers by my side.

“Fuck if I know,” I grumble. “My lady, please kindly move out of this house.”