Page 73 of Haunted Ever After

“Right. In there, you two.”

“Both of us?” This surprised Cassie, but she wasn’t upset about it. She wasn’t about to let go of Nick’s hand anyway.

But Nick lingered, eyeing the circle. “What is that?”

“Salt,” Nan said. “Mixed with sand from Cemetery Island. Powerful stuff. Grounding. It’s good when you’re trying to get a spirit’s attention.”

“All I usually need to do is change up the banana bread recipe.” Nick’s lips turned up at his attempt at a joke, but his voice was thin, his smile tight. He cleared his throat. “What happens when we step in there?”

“Libby’s going to close the circle behind you,” Nan said. “C.S. Hawkins seems to like you, so we’re going to see if you can attract him to you. Once he’s here and attached to you, he’ll be trapped in the circle, and we can concentrate on getting him out.”

“Can’t say that I’ve ever been bait before.” Nick rolled his head around his neck, then shrugged his shoulders, like he was warming up for something.

Cassie tugged gently on his hand. “Are you sure about this?”

He turned his gaze to her; his eyes had darkened, but they were still blue. Cassie’s heart skipped a beat. It was starting already. But his smile was gentle, sincere, and just for her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

She wasn’t sure about that, but before she could say anything else, Nick stepped through the opening and into the salt-and-sand circle, and what could she do but follow? As soon as they were inside, Libby was there, pouring more of the sand and salt mixture in the gap they’d just stepped through, closing the circle behind them. Cassie caught her breath, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. No energy shift, no dramatic explosions.

“You all right?” She looked up at Nick.

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” It wasn’t Nick’s voice anymore. Not completely. It was harder, meaner. Cassie dropped his hand in alarm, and if she could have taken a step back without disturbing the circle she would have. It had happened in an instant, and so much more intensely than it ever had before. Nick put his hands on his hips and rotated in a tight circle, taking in the living room in its entirety. “What are you all doing in my house?”

“The house is mine.” Cassie’s chest felt tight as she spoke. She meant those words, more emphatically than she’d ever meant anything in her life. It was almost like she was saying them more loudly, saying them twice. At the same time. “Not yours. It was never yours, Charles.” Nick, she thought. His name is Nick, not Charles. But Nick’s eyes had gone dark, dark brown, and there was something about his face, something about the way he held himself, that made Cassie want to shrink back, flinch away from him. Which was ridiculous. She wasn’t afraid of Nick. He’d never hurt her.

But Charles would. Charles had. The knowledge was immediate and certain, and Cassie understood what had happened. C.S. Hawkins had taken over Nick, that much was obvious. But Cassie had been taken over too; Sarah was right there with her. Inside her head. Ghostly reinforcements had arrived.

It was confusing inside her brain, like watching two movies at the same time on a split screen. She tried to relax, share the space inside her head, while her instincts struggled against it. C’mon, Sarah. Let’s get him.

Meanwhile, Nick looked coldly smug, an expression that Cassie wanted to slap off his face. “We’re married, love.” He spit out the term of endearment, making a mockery of it. “This house became my property on our wedding day. You became my property.” He stepped forward then, gripping her arm with one strong hand. The Sarah inside Cassie’s head flinched, pulled against his grip, but Cassie just got angry. Nick wasn’t like this; this asshole inside his head was making Nick behave in a way that wasn’t normal, wasn’t natural.

Suddenly, Nick’s head jerked back and he gave a grunt of surprise. He dropped Cassie’s arm and fell behind a step, his hand going to his face, which was suddenly…wet? Cassie whirled to look over her shoulder. Nan stood a few feet away on the other side of the circle, the water pistol trained on Nick.

“Woman!” Nick’s voice was a bark as he wiped water from his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?” That earned him another squirt to the face, as though he were a cat on the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” Cassie echoed the question, but in a harsh whisper.

“Holy water,” Nan said matter-of-factly. “Spirits don’t like it much. At the very least, it got his attention.”

“Because you shot him in the face with a water gun.” This exorcism was getting out of hand. But as she turned to face Nick, his face screwed up in a scowl, she had to admit he looked ridiculous. Water dripped from the end of his nose, and his hair was wet, curling on his forehead. Even the part of Cassie’s head that had been taken over by Sarah felt lighter, less threatened.

It was easy now for Cassie to take control and do the talking for Sarah. “It doesn’t work like that anymore, Chuck.” She mocked his tone of voice, spitting his name, turning it into an expletive. “You’ve been dead for a while, so you’ve missed out on a lot.”

Nick scoffed, his dark eyes flashing. “What are you talking about?” It was creepy to see Nick acting like Not-Nick, but Cassie shook that off. She had more important things to focus on.

“I’m talking about jobs. Women have them now, you know. I can tell that you’re really against it—believe me, I know. This whole stunt with my laptop. What were you trying to prove?”

Nick looked at her like she was an idiot. “I don’t know what that thing is. But you talk to it, you tap on it. You sound like a businessman when you talk to it, you know.” He scoffed again; that seemed to be C.S. Hawkins’s signature move. “You look ridiculous.”

Cassie glanced over her shoulder at Nan. “You can shoot him again.” She leaned away from Nick as Nan took aim, landing three good shots to his forehead. Nan was a sharpshooter with that thing.

Nick looked furious as he raked back his now soaked hair. “Ridiculous,” he said again. “Like a cat wearing a costume.”

“We do that too now, you know.” God, Nan was right; this guy was a dick. “Cats in costumes. I don’t have a cat, though. Maybe I should get one. Get a nice little necktie for it; he’d look great.” From outside the circle, Nan clucked her tongue and Cassie got the message; they were getting off topic. “You really thought if you made my machine not work that I wouldn’t be able to either?”

Not-Nick’s laugh was without mirth. “Why not? It seemed to do the trick.”

“Well, it ends now, old man.” Inside Cassie’s head, Sarah sucked in a frightened breath. It’s okay, she reassured the ghost. Trust me.

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