Page 32 of The Grave Robber

Clearly, she’d never looked in a mirror.

“And I’ve never met anyone who can do the things you can.”

She needed to get out more.

“Not to mention the fact that you’re a good person.”

I felt the need to stop her right there. “Why? Because Ibrought a puppy in from the cold?”

“And you saved Zachary.”

“I saved Zachary because I didn’t want that on my consciencefor the rest of my life. That doesn’t make me a good person. It makes meselfish and self-absorbed.”

“Ah. Well, that explains everything, but there’s more.”

“Yeah?”

She drew in a deep breath—I got the feeling it was forcourage—and let the words leave her mouth as fast as her tongue would carrythem. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than I want your body.”

And that was my undoing. At first, she’d shaken me so hard Icouldn’t move. But it didn’t take long for my baser instincts to kick in. Istarted forward, only to find out she wasn’t finished, and her next words wouldflip my world off its axis.

“Besides a Malibu Barbie Dreamhouse, but I was seven. And Ijust figured I’d take a chance, I’d quit being a wet noodle and ask for what Iwant for the first time in my life since, as you know,”—her gaze met mine atlast—“I’m going to be dead in two months.”

Chapter Seven

I’d date me.

Mainly because I put out.

—Meme

As if she hadn’t shaken me enough. As if she hadn’t upendedmy world and sent me spiraling, she had to throw her impending doom into themix. I sat dumbfounded, unsure of what to do. What to say.

“Halle,” I began, but she cut me off.

“It’s okay. I knew it was coming.”

Words wouldn’t form in my mouth. Not that I knew what to sayif they would. I tried to see into her mind, to figure out what she wasthinking, but I wasn’t that kind of psychic. “How?” I asked at last. It was allI could get out.

“How did I know it was coming, or how do I know it’s comingin precisely two months?”

“Either,” I said, flustered. “Both.”

“I don’t know. Something has changed. The apparition isgetting more aggressive. Angrier.”

“How do you know?”

“Just everything that happens.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, clearly growing frustrated with myquestions. “Just usual ghost stuff.”

“Like what?” I repeated.

She released an annoyed sigh. “Mostly cabinet doors slammingshut. Objects moving in the night. Water overrunning the sink. The usual. Butsometimes…” She chewed on a nail before finishing her statement. “Sometimes, Iwake up naked with no memory of taking off my clothes.”

A sharp, simmering rage settled deep in the pit of mystomach. Now I knew for certain none of this was supernatural in nature. Notthat I needed additional proof, but it was nice to have backup. The departeddidn’t drug people and then strip them in the middle of the night. Sick,deranged stalkers did.

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