Page 78 of The Devil and His Ghost

Wind rustled the sea of trees around the abandoned hospital. Brittle leaves rained down and blanketed the ground. It was a peaceful ambience, yet suddenly, the crisp and strong thrumming of chorded music joined the song of the night.

I looked over my shoulder from where I sat in the center of the rooftop to find Xander at the other end. I hadn’t heard him come up, but he sat cross-legged in his jeans and t-shirt with a short stand and guzheng set up in front of him. The instrument was long, sleek wood with numerous strings. Xander plucked those strings with the poise and air of some ancient, angelic god rather than a modern day demon.

Enraptured like a lost soul who’d found their savior, I faced him and hugged my knees while listening to his expert playing. I had loved Sinners Do It Better ever since their debut. They were my favorite band, and that wasn’t because of the connection I had to them through Xander. I loved rock music, and theirs had always called to me.

But this … the way Xander created beautifully ethereal melodies with a wave of his wrists and strumming of his fingers was something else entirely. Warmth washed through me as the piece filled the night breeze with magic.

The song ended much too soon, and when his dark eyes looked across the rooftop to meet mine, I implored, “Keep going. Please.”

A hint of a smile formed. “As my ghost wishes.”

He poised his tattooed arms and hands to play once more, and I fell under that spell all over again. There were no words to the pieces he played, and yet, emotion overcame me all the same. Wonder, longing, heartbreak, amazement. The music called to every part of my soul, and apparently, I wasn’t the only one.

As he finished another piece on the traditional Chinese instrument, his gaze bounced around me. I followed that line of sight and was equally surprised and delighted to see he’d grown an audience.

Catsper sat elegantly on one side of me, watching Xander with a proud lift of his chin as though to say, “That’s my dad over there. Isn’t he great?” The little ghost girl sat on my other side, and she watched Xander with the same kind of bright interest I surely had been.

With a glance over my shoulder, I spotted a handful of more spirits gathered here on the rooftop to listen—a woman dressed in an outdated nurse’s uniform, a few patients in varying decades of dress, and even a janitor with a bent, crooked neck.

I’d never seen so many ghosts at Mountview. Hell, I hadn’t even realized the building was haunted by so many. Excitement blossomed inside of me, because this was a huge chance. Looking back at Xander, I gave him an encouraging nod.

Once again, he flexed his fingers before beginning anew. With each piece—some uplifting and cheerful, others pure whimsy—the crowd of ghosts grew. They clapped their phantom hands joyously and called out praises to Xander, some even shouting requests for types of songs.

“Do a hard one!” a man yelled.

“A ballad. I adore ballads.”

“I don’t know what instrument that is, but I like it! Can you play your favorite song?”

The little girl looked at the growing population. Without a word, she floated closer to land in my lap with Catsper climbing into hers. Having a non-physical body resting in my lap was an odd feeling. She couldn’t fully settle in the dip of my legs since we couldn’t fully touch, yet I barely noticed over the light filling my chest. Smiling, I wrapped my arms around her ghostly body and rocked us gently side to side while Xander played.

The large crowd applauded as another song concluded. The little girl nearly wiggled happily off my lap from how hard she clapped.

Xander looked up at the child in my arms, who still held Catsper in hers. Something intense crossed his face while he swallowed hard, but the expression was there and gone too quickly for me to understand what it was. He recovered by pasting on a friendly grin.

“You,” he said to the ghost child. “Would you like to pick a song now?”

She looked up at me excitedly then back at Xander. “Y-Yes, please!”

He nodded. “Wonderful. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She leaned shyly into my arms but answered, “Maria.”

Xander and I shared a silent yet triumphant look before he met Maria’s eyes again. “That’s a beautiful name. What song would you like to hear, Maria?”

She thought about it for a moment and tilted her head back to look at me. I offered her an encouraging nod. When she faced Xander again, she declared, “A love song. One a prince would play for his princess.”

Xander’s lips parted slightly, and almost unconsciously, our eyes met. My heart tripped over itself upon seeing the affection bleeding through those sharp black eyes. “Mmm. I can do that.”

As the new piece began, I forgot how to breathe. It was a song I recognized, even though I’d only heard it once and on a different instrument. That last time Xander had played this song, he’d done so on the guitar while singing the Mandarin lyrics under his breath while believing me to be asleep. Hearing it now on the guzheng without words had a rush of unwanted feelings rising to the surface. A telling flood of emotion existed in the set of his brow, poise of his mouth, and tender perfection in which he played. Emotions I’d long buried with a vow never to resurrect again tried shoving their way forward, and I was powerless to stop them.

But then again, I’d never been able to stop how he made me feel. All I knew how to do was hide and run.

I ducked my head, unable to watch him any longer, running even now. Better that than deluding myself like I had done the last time we’d been together.

“So pretty,” Maria gushed as the music faded.

She and the others cheered merrily, but I couldn’t get my hands to move. A hard lump had lodged itself in my throat, and I stared at the top of Maria’s transparent head. I was afraid if I looked up, Xander would see everything I didn’t want him to see on my face.