Page 87 of Unhinged Magic
“Do you know if they were human?” I asked.
“Witches,” she confirmed, taking another drink of her wine. “Rumor is the manor’s haunted. That every person who has brought the property since has sold it again just as quickly.”
That didn’t surprise me.
I stared at the photo. “Evidence at its best.”
“My thoughts exactly,” she agreed, shrugging. “Maybe it’s all connected, maybe not. I really don’t know.”
Tipping my glass back, I emptied its contents, the last bite of vodka scratching at my tastebuds. “I guess that answers the question about the photo. Whether it’s all linked or not is beyond me.” I slipped it into the pocket of my jacket, eyeing the pool tables off to one side where two guys I hadn’t seen before chalked pool cues.
“I’m going to the ladies' room. Don’t wait around for me if you get a better offer.” I winked, giving her a knowing look, nodding in Reid’s direction.
Scar followed my line of sight to where he flashed a blond woman behind the bar his stellar grin. Blondie tossed her hair over her shoulders, sticking out her chest as if he hadn’t already noticed her generous breasts spilling over her low-cut top.
Scar rolled her eyes, discarding the thought. I grinned, making my way through the bar to the ladies' room.
When the door shut behind me, I gripped what I assumed was the hand basin. The slab of timber beneath the tap looked as if it would spill water everywhere rather than send it down the discrete drain tucked in close to the wall. This had to be some smart-ass invention of Reid’s. I bet there was just enough slant on this thing to send the water exactly where it needed to go. Itseemed fitting for this bar: rustic, quirky. Even the simple white rose sitting in the vase off to one side seemed to just fit.
I stared at myself in the mirror, smoothing my hair behind my ears. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this photo.
What was I missing?
I pulled it from my pocket, staring at it for what felt like the tenth time. Wesley’s ghost, the death notice, the mansion, the photo. Like it could speak to me, I willed it to answer.
What are you trying to tell me?
As if my questions were considered, a thought burned in my mind.
Had Landon’s ghost ever introduced himself to me? Ever stated his name? He may look like Wesley’s brother, but what if… I paced the ladies' room, trying to remember his words. What exactly he had said to me. It was minimal.
I screwed up my face, pressing my arm to my forehead in thought. I was certain he had never stated his name. Not directly.
Suddenly, one word hit the forefront of my mind.
Darling.
I looked down at the photo, drawing my gaze back up to myself in the mirror.
The way he’d said it.
It meant something to him.
Why would a spirit that passed away at the age of four call me that?
Holy shit.
If hearts really could break the living, could the dead possess another soul?
It was hard to comprehend. The why, the how? If this had the slightest chance of being the reason the fated bond between Wesand me was not right, I needed to explore it. But how would I speak to a ghost that refused to comply?
It dawned on me then.
If this ghost wouldn’t talk to me, maybe I needed to go to him.
Unknown
( Edward)
