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“It’s my aunt’s yearbook,” I reveal.
“It can’t be,” he says.
“What do you mean, it can’t be?” I ask, starting to get irritable.
I know how to choke a person out, to make them pass out. I usually don’t like to do it unless it’s some kind of emergency situation, but when Carter starts to get on my nerves, I always start to feel like I should make an exception.
“Unless you’re some kind of time traveller,” he says, pointing out an image at the bottom of the page I’m on. “That’s you in a really dramatic wig.”
I’m ready to laugh off the joke until I look at the picture.
He’s not wrong. The serious looking guy with the long hair obscuring one side of his face really does look like me. A chill washes over me as I stare at the image.
Is this what she wanted me to see?
“What’s wrong?” Carter asks.
I clutch the book harder as I look down at the name of the man who has my face and my heart sinks into my stomach.
Samuel Madden.
Sara’s father.
Chapter Nine
Carter
Silasgetsupandmarches out of the room, the book still white-knuckled in his grasp. I follow after him with the other book, checking Sara’s picture and finding out she shares the same surname as the guy who looked exactly like Silas when he was a similar age. What a fucked-up way to find out your mom lied about your dad. I put the book down on the kitchen counter and I open the door for Silas who doesn’t seem to want to let the object that riled him up out of his hands.
He charges outside, stomping hard enough through the grass to make me shudder.
That girl is lucky she doesn’t have a life left to lose. Silas is deadly enough when his mood is neutral.
He’s approaching beast-mode. I half-expect him to rip off his shirt and shift forms to growl at the ghost. He doesn’t, which is probably a good thing, because Mrs. Adams from next door is at her window, the nosy old bitch. She doesn’t look too impressed as she stares out at us.
I sigh as I go after Silas.
“Silas, we should talk about this. In private.” I nod in the direction of the Adams’ house.
He frowns at me, stopping and gazing around. “I summon the spirit of Sara Madden.”
Oh shit.She isn’t out here, so he’s using his creepy-ass ghost-calling powers.
“Silas, I don’t think this is a good idea right now.”
He growls, his eyes glowing with the presence of his wolf.
“I summon the spirit of Sara Madden,” he repeats, sounding like a man possessed.
I start to shudder. I might not be able to see spirits or call on them, but I can feel the change in energy around us and I don’t like the way it’s crackling as if there’s magic in the air.
“Silas, please.” I don’t know why I’m pleading. I already know it’s no use.
He’s made his decision. In his shoes, I’d probably do the same. After I got over the shock, I mean.
He repeats the words to summon her one final time. Three seems to be a magic number when it comes to ghost calling, because after that he just waits for her to appear, which really doesn’t take long. For a few seconds, the energy around us crackles loudly enough to make me cover my ears.
Then it stills, and I can tell she’s here.
