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Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with Tristan’s intoxicating fragrance, and it smelled better than it had ever smelt before. I inhaled deeply and felt the effect all the way to my toes.

Wow. No one should smell this good.

“We’ve conjured him.” I grinned. “He’s here, somewhere,” I said.

Tristan appeared, leaning against the island. I gave him my brightest smile. He put his finger to his lips. His tousled chestnut hair flopped over burning green eyes that narrowed with concern. “Shut the fuck up, Beauchamp,” he said.

Dylan stiffened and sniffed the air. “The smell? The smell is Tristan? Is this what you haven’t been telling me?”

“I did tell you. But you didn’t believe me.”

Tristan glowered at me. “Beauchamp. Shut it,” he growled.

“But I’ve said too much already. I think I’m in trouble.”

Tristan nodded. “You’re driving him crazy. Why are you in his lap? Are you okay?”

“Dylan, I think I ought to go to bed now.” I tried to get out of his lap. He tightened his hold on me.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. I can smell something, Emily. What is it?”

Tristan was eyeing me doubtfully. He disappeared.

Oh no. I knew what that meant.

He reappeared immediately, looming over Dylan and me like a righteous hellfire preacher.

“Emily. Fuck. You stupid, stupid girl, what the fuck have you been doing?” Tristan shouted. “Drugs! In your emotional state! Are you fucking mad? Of all the fucked up…” He was furious. His eyes gleamed a flinty emerald green.

I leaned into Dylan. “He’s really angry.” I whimpered. “He knows.”

“Emily, what’s going on?” Dylan asked, grasping my shoulders.

“Tristan is here… and he knows what I did and he’s really angry.”

I sensed rather than saw Dylan look around the kitchen. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Tristan.

“If I were him, I’d have locked you in your room,” Tristan ranted on. “Get up to your room. I need to talk to you alone.”

“Don’t go. Tristan, please.” I opened my eyes and stared at him, beseeching. “Let me up, Dylan. Please,” I begged.

He released me, completely confounded, and I stood.

Tristan glowered at me.

“If you go now, he’ll think I’m really mad. Last time I mentioned you to him, I had to see a psychiatrist. Please, please don’t go. Show him that you’re here.”

Dylan stood up. “Emily, who are you talking to?” His voice cracked on the last word.

“Why the hell should I show that son of a bitch? You do need a psychiatrist! Drugs! What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I realized I had nothing to lose. I had fun. Tristan, please. Show him that you’re here. He doesn’t believe me. Please.”

“Nothing to lose? Are you out of your mind?”

“Emily, you’re really scaring me,” Dylan whispered.

“Please, Dyl, be quiet. I’m trying to reason with a ghost.”