Page 66 of Ghosts of Halloween

The tape’s still there. Even though Ijustwalked through that fucking door.

I try to blink again, then I raise my hands up to rub my eyes when I don’t feel them reacting. But my hands don’t make it up to my face. I freeze, staring.

I don’t see my palms. Just a faint, blurry outline that vaguely looks like my fingers but… It’s just smoke.

Panic rising, I lurch to the exit, and even though I should stumble and fall, I glide through the air easily until I reach the front door and make to step through. Just one step will take me out onto the porch, and then a small jog down the stairs and the driveway, and I’ll reach the ambulance. They will help me.

Propelled by that hope, I speed up—and stop suddenly when my foot almost passes the threshold. My entire being jolts with a juddering pain when I slam into something that feels like a spiky wall.

I shake myself off, looking out at the ambulance and men in black jackets rolling a gurney with a body bag through the gate. “Help!” I scream, my voice coming out distorted and whispery, more a shadow than a sound. I try to clear my throat, not feeling if it works, and try again to the same effect.

Seriously freaking out, I try to step outside. Everything inside me rattles hard as I push into a grinding barrier thatpushes backuntil I’m farther down the entrance hall, staring without comprehension as the gurney’s loaded into the car.

I can’t go out there. It’s like there’s a wall holding me back. Trapping me here.

“Silas?” a whispering, uncertain voice pulses behind me, and I turn fast, relief washing over me. It’s short-lived, though. Because when I see Caden, I know without a shadow of a doubt what happened to us. What we are.

It doesn’t shock me, because the moment I see him, the memories of last night come crashing back, and suddenly, I know everything.

Caden’s insubstantial, the contours of his body shivering and washed out, going in and out of focus like a shape made out of smoke or a cloud. He looks wispy, gray and translucent, his terror-filled eyes lackluster, his body somehow flat like in a photograph. He moves toward me, shaking, andI watch in horror as his body glides, his legs staying just as they are—with the tips of his shoes trailing soundlessly over the floor.

“Cay,” I choke out, my throat not working even as my whispery, utterlywrongvoice projects toward him. “Fuck, Cay.”

“I saw them roll your body out,” he says, eyes huge in his discolored, transparent face. “You’re fucking dead. We all are.”

He’s right. I know he is. And as soon as I think about it without a shadow of a doubt, as soon as I think,I’m dead, it’s like a switch flips in my mind. Suddenly, I know why we’re dead. Who is to blame. And why we can’t leave.

It’s like the awareness just waited in the corner of my mind, like a memory needing the right trigger to unlock. Except, this is no memory. I don’t remember anyone telling me this, but with every incorporeal piece of my being, I know.

“Harlow,” I say, my voice shaky and unsteady, somehow audible and yet not. “We swore.”

Caden nods, coming closer, still not moving his legs. He just glides through the air, insubstantial and feathery, and suddenly, I’m terrified a gust of wind from the open door will make him dissipate, scattering pieces of him all over the room. But somehow, he stays put together, the faint image of him clear enough in the shadowy presence.

“We have to protect her,” he says, his eyes so sad, so utterly defeated, I suddenly burn with hate.

She did this.

“He found us because of her,” I snarl, the rage I feel flooding my being with something hot and heavy, until I almost feel the soles of my feet pressing into the ground, my fists clenching in anger. “She fucked some guy and told him all about how she got her precious bionic arm. That’s how Vladimir knew it was Noah. And us.”

Caden’s shape shimmers, getting fuzzy around the edges. His face twists, but his features are blurry, and the effect is creepy as fuck. I keep myself still,knowing there’s more to it. The awareness of what happened, of the trap we fell into, makes me vibrate with rage.

“You’re… You’re getting solid,” Caden whispers, the fuzziness receding until a clear, black-and-white image of him stands there, watching me warily.

“I’m pissed,” I grit out, noting with gratification my voice sounds almost normal. Just a faint echo of the whispery shadowiness remains. “We’re trapped here. Fuck! We swore to protect that bitch, and it’s forcing us to do just that! She’ll be back here at some point, her life in danger. And we can’t leave until we save her.”

I know this with complete certainty. It’s like this awareness of why we stayed behind is branded into my mind. Our only purpose. Our curse.

My fury taking over, I make to kick the wall and grunt in alarm when my foot goes right through, seemingly getting stuck inside before I lurch back, and it comes out, reappearing like nothing happened.

“Oh, shit. But yeah,” Caden confirms, his forehead twitching into something akin to his usual frown. “But… How do you know that? How doIknow that?”

“We just do,” I mutter, almost feeling my frantic heart, almost feeling the rage pumping through my veins. “Fuck!”

“Noah’s not here,” Caden adds, and I nod, not even wondering how I know that. I just do. Just like I know the pathetic vow I made to my dying friend is the thing that keeps me from passing on to wherever it is souls go after death.

“And we’re just fucking supposed to wait?” I snarl, my anger making the house flash around me, as if someone’s rapidly turning on and off the lights, even though I know there is no electricity here. “For how long?”

Caden shakes his head, his mouth in a grim line, and then, suddenly, Jack falls through the ceiling, landing in a shaking heap on the floor between us.

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