Page 35 of Big Witch Energy

Caroline patted Ben’s chest. “Ben?”

All of the blood and air seemed to return to the sensible parts of Ben’s body, and he screeched, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

***

“If it makes you feel any better, I said exactly the same thing the first time I met Plover,” Riley told Ben as she served him a mug of chamomile tea. They’d moved back into the atrium because the office and the possibility of whatever the hell that thing was returning made Ben incredibly uncomfortable.

Alice had arrived while Ben was sitting there, waiting for his world to make sense again. Apparently, she’d felt Caroline and Riley’s distress in dealing with the ceiling thing—something Ben would process later. Alice had simply given him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic smile. Caroline was back on her chaise, blankets intact, drinking more tea. Edison, who had returned from the public library on Riley’s frantic call for help to get Ben off the floor, poured Ben a rather large glass of whiskey. He was hovering, waiting for Ben to spill either of his beverages.

Ben’s life was madness. He let out a slow breath. “So ghosts are real?”

“Yep,” Caroline said. “Usually, they’re a little better at hiding than that. But the ceiling ghost is less predictable than the others.”

Ben gestured the hand occupied by a whiskey glass. “Ghosts.”

“Mm-hmm.” Caroline nodded. “Also, we’re witches. Our magic helps us communicate with the ghosts. And occasionally, send them running when they violate personal space.”

“OK… Sure. Have you always been a witch? Like when we were dating?” Ben asked.

“Oh, no, I’m a late-in-life magical bloomer.” She paused to nod toward the copper bowl full of rose quartz pebbles. “I was actually practicing when you came in. Riley can full-on levitate antique furnishings, but I can’t seem to lift a rock—which is discouraging.”

“You were trying to lift a rock…with magic?” Ben asked.

“I told you, lifting stuff is my special magical talent, we just haven’t found yours yet,” Riley told her gently, apparently ignoring Ben’s question.

“Story of my life,” Caroline grumbled. “Oh, and the Shaddows don’t exist.”

“Wait, what?!” Ben exclaimed.

Alice topped off Ben’s whiskey glass. “The Dentons made them up so people wouldn’t ask questions about why they never let people in the house. They wanted to be able to do their work while they sort of faded into the background. It only took a few generations for everybody to forget that they’d never really met the Shaddows.”

“I feel so betrayed…and a little gullible,” Ben said, sipping the tea and then the whiskey. Both burned. “I can’t believe we didn’t question it. I mean, I guess we did. Everybody on the island has their own ‘Shaddow theory.’ But I don’t think anybody guessed they were being Keyser Söze’d.”

The others snorted and he said, “Oh, man, it’s nice to be around people old enough to get that reference…but really, ghosts?”

Riley looked faintly embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Ben, that was the worst possible ghost for you to meet for the first time. Most ghosts are actually really nice. They’re people, just like you and me. They’re just, let’s say, corporeally challenged. Um, Plover, would you please show yourself to Dr. Hoult to prove it?”

Nothing happened.

“Plover, please? If you would be so kind,” Riley asked in a very intentionally sweet tone. “OK, this is embarrassing, and I’m going to have Eloise do it if you don’t cooperate. Or worse, the clown ghost, and that would be humiliating and terrifying for the both of us.”

“Plover?” Ben’s face lit up. “Plover’s a ghost?”

A thin, distinguished-looking man in an old-fashioned suit materialized to his right like smoke unfurling. He inclined his head respectfully. “Doctor.”

“Plover is a ghost.” Ben repeated, not bothering to hide his grin of absolute delight. Plover wasn’t competition for Caroline, he was a ghost. And it made sense that Caroline said his name with such affection. He looked like something straight out of one of her BBC movies.

“Yes,” Plover intoned. “In this house, I am the ghost.”

“That’s pretty much true.” Caroline nodded. “He’s Riley’s right-hand man. And my personal favorite.”

A burbling noise sounded from the fountain, and frankly, sounded like insulted burbling.

Caroline winced. “I’m sorry, Eloise. You know I love you too.”

Plover smirked and bowed to Caroline. And then Ben wondered if maybe he underestimated the potential of ghost competition for Caroline’s affection.

“And there are ghosts all throughout the house?” Ben said.

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