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“I tend to think hell is better than being tied to earth for centuries,” I tell him nonchalantly. “Every ghost I’ve met complains that they can’t move on.”
“But we deserve the choice,” the man yells.
“I just want to help you. We’re on the same team. Tell your friends that there’s a safe space they can go to if they need it.”
He scoffs again. “As long as the spirit roams free, there’s nowhere safe for us. The others have been whispering about you. They say you could save us all, but I don’t believe them. Look at you. You’re a great big oaf who can’t do anything for us. You talk to us and pretend to care, but you’ll never be able to stop what’s coming after us. You aren’t strong enough.”
I shrug. Maybe he’s right. That doesn’t mean I won’t try.
“Spread the word,” I tell him. “Or get dragged down to hell. See if I care.”
A twig snaps, and the ghost disappears immediately. He’s seriously spooked if a branch cracking scares him away. That’s one of the first tricks the ghosts learn.
I turn to see what made the noise, and my heart stops. Because there, in the flesh, is the woman of my dreams. She’s walking through the graveyard, clutching a book to her chest and looking at the ground. Whatever she’s focused on, she hasn’t seen me standing here.
Now that I can see her face, I’m stunned by her beauty. Her jet-black hair cascades down her shoulders and back, straight as a pin. It’s blowing in the early morning breeze, swirling around her face. Her skin is a dark-olive color, and she has long, thick eyelashes. She’s taller than I imagined, though she’s a shrimp compared to me. Her limbs are long and lithe.
I call out to her, but she doesn’t hear me. She has a pair of headphones in her ears, and I can tell as I get closer that she’s singing. It’s a sweet sound, better than the laugher that’s been haunting my consciousness for days. I chase after her, knowing there’s nowhere for her to go.
She turns on her heel to look at me, and I stop dead in my tracks. Her eyes are a dark-honey hue, and her lips are twisted in an angry scowl. Even in her anger, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I—” Words don’t form, because what can I possibly say to her? When I got out of bed this morning, my whole purpose was to find her. Now that she’s in front of me, I feel like a fucking idiot.
“I come in peace,” I finally say. “I’m surprised to see someone else at the cemetery this early.”
“Do you work here or something?” she asks, eyeing me up and down.
“No, I—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“I’m trained in jiu-jitsu,” she says coldly, her voice a warning to back off. “I’ll snap off your balls before you realize I’ve touched you.”
I smile at her in what I hope is a completely non-threatening way. I happen to like my balls. “I’m not trying to hurt you. Let’s start over. My name is Hex.”
I hold my hand out to her and she eyes it suspiciously, clutching her book even closer to her.
“Juliana,” she says, without taking my hand. “Are you going to tell me what the hell you’re doing in the cemetery?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
She rolls her eyes and walks away. I follow her down two rows of headstones and take a sharp turn to a bench.
“My parents died,” she says brusquely. “Are you happy?”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes from my chest. Of course I’m not happy her parents are dead, but I find her demeanor so hysterical. She’s not even remotely what I expected.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell her genuinely. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
I realize this woman, Juliana, has come to speak to her own ghosts, and that intrigues me in a way I can’t explain. Besides the insane attraction I feel toward her, I want to know her more. It’s a vital need inside of me.
My phone buzzes, then, and I know now isn’t the time. But I’ve found her. Now that I’ve done it once, I know I can do it again.
“I’m sorry I’ve disturbed your morning,” I tell her. “But I do hope we’ll meet again under better circumstances.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
Pocus eyes me suspiciously as I slip through the back door of the house. It’s only nine, which is too early for me to be returning from anywhere. Most mornings, this is when I crawl out of bed.
