Page 7 of Undo Me

Chapter 2

She ran a brush through her hair as she stood in front of the antique bathroom vanity, thinking about the day’s revelations. Her inner agoraphobe was screaming for her to pack up and grab the earliest plane home. Only there could she be safely surrounded by her books and four solid walls. No ghost whisperers, no telepaths, and no one who claimed to have been possessed by a voodoo spirit for the last several years. If they were in a book, she wouldn’t be able to put it down, but she wasn’t too sure she enjoyed being in the story.

Forget porn movie, she’d landed in an episode of The Outer Limits.

The strangest part of the whole evening? She’d believed every word they said. Especially after Ben took her hand and told her a few things about herself that no one else could know. Not even Michelle. And by the somber looks he threw her way the rest of the evening, she knew he’d seen more than he’d shared.

After a few glasses of wine, Allegra opened up about the story she was writing. The masses would believe they were reading erotic fiction, but apparently, they would be wrong.

It was both horrifying and fascinating to think that this Bone Daddy really existed. A spirit that invaded a body and fed off orgasms. One who’d apparently been around forever, and knew more about sex than she knew about anything.

Who wouldn’t be tempted by someone—or something—like that? Although she couldn’t imagine having to give herself over long enough for a voodoo ritual, let alone the years Rousseau had been “ridden” by the thing.

Allegra managed to make an exorcism via climax sound romantic, which told Bethany all she needed to know about how good the book was going to be. It also explained the pure adoration in Rousseau’s eyes when he looked at his future bride. She’d saved him. Given him his life back, and someone to share it with.

It was a strange love story, but it seemed to work for them.

The most difficult part of the night came with Michelle’s revelations about her abilities. They’d shared so much over the years, but not this. It hurt for a minute, but it helped that Michelle put everything on the table, including the reason she’d left New York so abruptly. Being chased by a murderous, dark spirit sounded like one hell of a good reason. Michelle skimmed over the scarier parts of her story, lingering on her childhood adventures with Ben and the ghost Emmanuel, and what he’d initially told them of his sister Isabel’s treasure. Ben admitted he’d bought the mansion while Michelle was in New York, because it reminded him of her.

Bethany smiled at herself in the mirror. Adair fit the definition of a charming scoundrel perfectly. She doubted anyone could help but like him.

They were all very nice. For beautiful, crazy people.

One of these things, is not like the other.

She might be a little crazy, but she was no freckled fairy like Allegra, or sexy seer like Michelle. She was just plain Bethany. With an emphasis on plain. Her eyes were blue, but not ice blue or indigo blue. Basic. A comfortable-pair-of-jeans blue. Her lips were unusual but not in a way she found flattering. The top lip was fuller than the bottom, which never screamed sexy to her so much as, “Did you have an allergic reaction to dinner?” Even her body was average. Not too plump, not even close to skinny, but it did what she asked it to, so she rarely complained or felt the need to curb her appetite.

Her hair was her one vanity. Thick, with a natural wave, it shined from her nightly brushing and hung down her back like a curtain of ebony silk. Her aunt and guardian, Sally, once told her that the hair came from her side. She’d also mentioned that her stubbornness, on the other hand, had to be from her father. Not that Bethany would know first-hand. All she ever had of her parents were pictures, books, and the stories her aunt doled out with a stinginess that bordered on cruelty.

A noise brought her awareness back to the room beyond the unusual private bath, with its own vanity table and small, cushioned chair.

Isabel’s room. The reason she was here.

The young woman must have been the apple of her parents’ eye, if this suite was any indication. It wasn’t the master, but it may as well have been. It was a large room with walls that used to be the color of the Caribbean Sea. A room with its own bath and a door leading out onto the balcony. The renovations hadn’t gotten everything exactly right, but the feel of it was spot-on. Fit for a princess.

She heard the noise again. A scuffling sound, followed by something falling.

“Who’s there?” She stepped into the bedroom and looked around and saw nothing.

Which didn’t really mean anything in this house.

“Emmanuel, is that you?” She waited for a response for a hot minute before rolling her eyes. “Great. My first night and I’m already talking to a ghost.”

Had the books she’d set on the nightstand been moved? She walked over to the bed to get a closer look. “Michelle told me you were a bit of an imp. But she also said you were a good friend, and I shouldn’t be nervous that I’ll find blood dripping from the walls or my bed floating around while I’m sleeping.”

Crickets. She’d never been so jealous of Michelle, not even when the man she’d been dating had shown up with two tickets to Bethany’s favorite Broadway show. It was this ability Michelle had. Bethany would love to be able to talk to a ghost right now, and hear the actual response.

“She also said Isabel’s hidden panel was in this room, and she’d kept everything there for safekeeping until I arrived. I wonder if you can help me find it. Not that I’m snooping or anything.”

Still nothing. He probably wasn’t here and she was babbling to herself. Lovely.

One of the books had fallen to the floor. That must have been the noise she’d heard. She knelt down, her legs tangling in her nightgown as she reached for it. A cool breeze rode up her spine once more, and she smiled in relief. “You are here. I was starting to get paranoid.”

She looked at the floor and noticed a board that seemed more worn then the others. “She said panel, not floorboard, didn’t she?” The air grew colder, and Bethany nodded, secretly thrilled. “I thought so. I also think you wanted me to check this out, so I will. But if you make me break the handsome rich man’s house for no reason, I’m totally blaming it on you.”

Emmanuel seemed to tug on her hair again. “We really need to find a better way to communicate.”

She studied the floorboard. It was loose, but not loose enough to have been moved recently. This was definitely not the panel Michelle had mentioned.

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