Page 124 of Bloodlust

Ghost

Leo wasn't afraid of death. He wasn't scared of what came next. He believed that once this life ended, there was an after. He wore his rosary like a tattoo, a permanent display of his belief in something higher, something bigger, something otherworldly.

For his sake, I hope he was correct.

I hope he's dipping his toes into the soft clouds of Heaven.

My father also believed in God, but hewasafraid of death. I think he knew where he was going to spend all of eternity. Dad always loved warm climates. I'm sure he feels right at home.

Me? I'm still figuring it out.

Maybe I'll live in limbo forever.

"Cami." Zoey cranes her neck, one foot inside the church door. "Come on."

"I don't know..." I bite my lip, side-eyeing Agent Conrad. Unease stirs in my chest. "Maybe we should just head to the Bureau and get this over with."

"There's no rush," Agent Conrad states, checking his watch as he stands beside the government-issued black SUV, the chariot that will take me to my fate. "We're not expected for another hour." He nods toward the ornate oak doors. "You ladies take your time. I'll be out here."

"Cami," Zoey says, urging me to come inside but I'm hesitant. Nervous. "Please."

My life has been a crimson sea. A vast ocean of sunken ships and forgotten bodies.

Blood spilled. Lives taken. Souls departed.

Some by my hand.

Others by my word.

Two by my heart.

"I don't think I belong in a church," I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets as I shake my head. "What if I..." I swallow. "What if I spontaneously combust or something?"

Zoey blinks. "It's a church, Cami, not some radioactive lab." She sighs, holding out her hand, inviting me to follow her. "Please? For Leo?"

I inhale, hoping that whoever or whatever rules apply, the nebula doesn't smite me upon entry.

"Fine," I grumble, lacing my fingers through Zoey's as her pleading gaze damn near breaks my heart. "For Leo."

"We're just going to light a candle," Zoey says, leading us toward the altar rails, dozens upon dozens of burning votive candles dancing against the shadowed walls. She stops in front of a table and picks up a match, passing it to me. "Here?—"

I lick my lips anxiously. "Now what?"

"Light it," she says, grabbing a match of her own and sparking the head with a lit candle. She watches me closely, patiently, as I attempt to catch the flame. "Careful."

"Ow," I wince, the heat from the fire burning my skin. "Fuck, that hurt."

"Language," Zoey whispers, eyes wide. She nods to a row of unlit candles. "Say a prayer, Cami. Something simple is fine."

"A prayer?" I blink at her. "Out loud?"

"No," she whispers, closing her eyes as she sucks in a deep breath. "In your head is fine."

"Okay..." I stare at the flickering flames, mesmerized by the vibrant colors and their hypnotizing effect.

Leo? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, say boo.

I cringe. Okay, let's try this again.

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