Page 11 of Bewitched By the Headless Horseman
“WhatImadeyoudo?” he asked, incredulous. “I was merely standing here watching you fiddle around with a ghastly ceramic head. That you keep a collection of inside that cabinet of yours, I might add.”
“If they were real heads, you would take them all to add to your secretcollection,” Stevie bit back, lifting the crucifix higher. “Get out of my house, demon.”
“That would all depend on the head. Never assume things,” he answered, his voice matter of fact. “And put that thing away. I’m not a demon.”
“Close enough,” Stevie grumbled, not lowering the cross. He hadn’t slinked from his position, and he kept his shoulders relaxed as if he were having a fun day in the park. “I told you to leave, or I would banish you from this world.”
“If you had the ability to do that, I’m certain you would’ve already,seer. The Eye of the Hollow is open, and I know that you can see me. You made that quite obvious on all three of our encounters now.”
Stevie narrowed her gaze at him. “The Eye might be open, but it will close soon enough with its twin, so you might as well tiptoe your way out straight through the wall. My sister-in-law is a witch, and she’ll be home any second.”
He ignored her words, slowly having a turn around her room, seeming to take in the details. The frames of collector cards, stamps, and coins, covering every inch of the walls. The stacks of shoeboxes and binders resting on her desk filled with even more, the antique figurines on the shelves. “You have too many nonsensical things.”
Stevie blinked, her brows lifting up her forehead. “Excuse me?” She lowered the crucifix but didn’t slacken her grip on it. When he didn’t speak, she continued, “Listen, um, Headless Horseman, I—”
He held up a gloved hand, cutting her off. “Kit.”
“What?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “What kind of kit? Do you need a first aid one? Because I think your neck wound healed a long time ago.”
“No.” He stepped forward, his broad shoulders squared. “My name is Kit.Not‘Headless Horseman.’”
Kit… She wouldn’t dare admit it aloud, but it was a charming name for a not-so-charming man. Without seeing his true face, she wasn’t sure if he even looked like a Kit because right now he only looked like the Headless Horseman.
He inched toward her, his body like a tower in front of her. “And you, Pumpkin, what do you go by?”
“NotPumpkin.” She scowled. “If I tell you my name will you leave?”
“Perhaps,” he said the word ever so slowly which only made her scowl deepen.
“First, tell me how you knew where I lived.” All she could think about was him removing that sword at his hip from its sheath and slicing it through the little ghost boy’s neck.
“Easy enough. I went through each of the houses in this neighborhood until I found you.”
She should’ve guessed he would do something as stalkeriffic as that, but a sense of relief washed through her that no ghost had been harmed in the process. “My name’s Stevie,” she relented.
“Stevie.” Kit drew out her name in that deep baritone of his, making it sound more like Ste-vieeeeeeeeeeee. “It doesn’t resemble a seer name.”
“Kit doesn’t sound like it would be the Headless Horseman’s name either, but here we are,” Stevie started. “And anyway, my dad named me after one of the greatest singers ever to walk this earth. Stevie Nicks. Who I guess you wouldn’t know—unless you’ve talked to other ghosts somewhere after like 1975?”
“No,” he said simply, his boots remaining planted in place.
“I told you my name, so will you go?” She folded her arms.
“Not yet.”
Stevie thrust her hand forward with the crucifix, and it pierced through his chest. Nothing. He couldn’t touch her, and she couldn’t touch him. But the sigh of relief didn’t come, not as she remembered Roxy and swallowed deeply.
“Why would you do something so ridiculous?” Kit asked, wiping the front of his chest as if she’d sullied him.
“To make sure my head was protected,” Stevie said. As he grunted, she added, “What will make you leave me alone? Helping you with unfinished business? It’s no secret around here that you ride through the ghost world at night in search of your head. And I have news for you, I wouldn’t know where to find it unless you want to spend years digging up every inch of Sleepy Hollow. If it’s somewhere else outside of this town, I might be dead before we even finish that.”
Kit remained silent, his gloved fingers flexing at his sides. “I’m not confessing what I need from you just yet. That will come soon enough.”
Stevie pursed her lips at the thought of what he could ask for. What if he wanted her to lure innocent ghosts to him? “Last night I saw you take that guy’s head. Given, he was a jackass, but still. The point is, you put on his head and it vanished. So the question is, how are you still talking and seeing things without one?”
“You’re quite inquisitive,” he said, amusement in his voice. “At first you pretended as though you didn’t see me, then you pretended to be a witch, and now you think I’ll so easily provide you answers to quell your curiosity?”
“Well, yes.” She glowered. “It’s only courteous since you made yourself a guest in my home, isn’t it?”
