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But with Austin—this was something I couldn’t move past. He killed me. He slit my fucking throat like it was nothing to him. Parts of the argument that led up to that final moment were starting to come back in pieces. I still couldn’t remember everything, but I knew enough to know that he’d been in a wild rage that I could no longer tame with words.
And the sick bastard just huddled there on the bathroom floor, crying like a little bitch while I choked on my own blood in our bedroom—the same bedroom he used to make love to me in. The same room we conceived our baby. The same room I stayed awake at night wondering if he was out with some other woman.
No, I wasn’t letting this go.
A stabbing pain was growing inside of me, as if a knife was trying to poke its way out. My throat was on the verge of closing up, and even my heart was racing. I was prone to panic attacks, especially in the last year when I had to dodge Austin’s moods and fists, but why was it coming back so suddenly? Wasn’t I supposed to be dead? Could ghosts have panic attacks?
Bael squeezed my fingers, and the touch jolted me back to the present. Our eyes connected. He wasn’t wearing his top hat tonight, letting the loose strands of his dark golden hair blow in the gently warm breeze. His dark blue eyes looked black, reflecting the twinkling stars that barely showed through the canopy of Cypress trees.
God, he was handsome. For an undead ringmaster who ushered lost souls to the afterlife. Actually, I had a feelinganywoman, with or without a pulse, would find him charming. And yet, it was the mysterious darkness swirling behind those eyes that hooked me.
“I can help you,” Bael said, his eyes glowing with a fierce intensity. “All you have to do is say yes.”
We walked off of the pathway, heading for a grouping of trees, which we passed through easily before coming to a small clearing. There was an old park bench in the very center, and Bael guided me to it. I sat as he remained standing.
The light of the moon shone behind him, darkening his features and the stars that twinkled in his eyes. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a dark object and raised it in front of him. It took me a moment to realize it was a glossy black fiddle. I blinked at him, knowing damn well there was no possible way he could have hidden a fiddle on his person—not in those tight leather pants. But this was Bael here. Physics never seemed to apply to him.
“If you want me to help you,Chéri, all you have to do is stay.” There was no sly grin to follow his tempting words. He just stared at me, his eyes eager.
He started to play his fiddle. The sounds was high-pitched, ringing through the swamp like a woman’s scream. Every note was sharp and piercing. The sound tugged at me from within. It was familiar, I realized right away. The melody, anyway.
I thought back to the day I died, waking up in my bedroom with a melody ringing in my ears. He must have seen the recognition in my eyes, because he started to play faster, taking slow steps backward.
Fog rolled over the tall grass around our feet, and the trees dripping in moss swayed as if dancing as the Cicadas harmonized. Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I sucked in an awed breath. The translucent, ethereal entities that haunted these swamps danced through the trees and inched closer, as if called by Bael’s music. They twirled and glided over the foggy floor, floating in and around one another like some kind of ghostly ball.
My fingers curled into the bench, keeping me in place, even though every cell in my body wanted to get up and dance with them. What was the point of all this? Did he think I was so easily entertained that all bit of music and dancing would convince me to abandon my life and become a specter like the rest of them?
I studied these lost souls, feeling a mixture of pity and jealousy. What would it feel like to let myself forget everything and fade away until I was dancing alongside them, blissful and unafraid? Did they have their memories? Were they conscious? The thought terrified me. I couldn’t imagine living that way for an eternity.
But everyone back at the carnival was so real and alive—in a sense. They weren’t like these dancing spirits. They were trapped somewhere between life and death, in a perpetual purgatory of their own choosing.
I couldn't help but wonder what kind of person would choose to live like that. Bael’s music was slower and more mournful than before. The ghostly dancers were circling him now, going around and around in a dizzying rush.
It was the first time I could see them up close, able to make out the distinct features of their faces. They looked…normal, as far as I could tell. Normal faces of every day people, dressed in clothing from nearly every era. But their expressions were pleasant and dreamy, small smiles gracing their lips. Most of them held their eyes closed, as if letting the music guide them entirely.
A chill ran through me as a gust of wind kicked up the fog around my ankles. Suddenly, Theodore was beside me. “Are you enjoying the show?” His arm was draped over the backrest of the bench and he had one ankle casually crossed over his thigh.
My heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest and I couldn't move. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, looked like something from a beautiful nightmare—a skeleton glowing under dark skin.
“You guys always give me a small heart attack when you just appear like that,” I breathed out with a hand on my chest.
He laughed low and said, “Well then it’s a good thing you’re already dead then.” Despite knowing this fact was true, dread filled me for the umpteenth time. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Mori. Not anymore. Not for you. This may be overwhelming right now, but I promise you'll grow to love your new life here."
“My new life?” I repeated dumbly. Did he think I already made up my mind?
“Of course,” he said with a shrug. "You made the choice to come here after all, so that has to be a sign."
“I don’t remember making a choice,” I snapped. The words burst from my lips before I could stop them. “I thought you said I still had time to choose? We’re you lying?” Was I running out of time? Were they going to make this decision for me? I was so fucked.
“Oh dear. I thought you understood,” Theodore said, clicking his tongue. “This place is only open to those who choose it willingly.” Reaching out, he twirled a lock of my hair around his ring-clad finger. My breath hitched at his nearness despite my irritation.
“Why would anyone choose this? To live as a ghost forever?” I watched them dancing, realizing that at the same time, Bael had his eyes on Theodore and I, as if he could hear every word we spoke. Knowing him he probably could.
“Because we’re free here,” he replied earnestly, drawing my attention back to him. “We can enjoy music like no one else on Earth can or ever will again. We can experience pleasures some can only dream of. There is no fear, no sickness or suffering. What more could you want?"
“But what about everything else? What about—” I thought for a moment, my mind racing, trying to come up with some way to rationalize what I was feeling. “What about growing old? Or traveling the world? What about everyone back in the real world we’re leaving behind?” Panic crawled up my throat like a snake trying its hardest not let go of its prey.
He stared at me with too-knowing eyes. He knew as well as I did that I didn’t exactly have a lot waiting for me in the world. I didn’t have friends anymore, Austin saw to that. My mom didn’t care about me now that she was happy in her new life. All I had was…Grandma Annette.
