Page 110 of The Curse of Redwood
“Nuh uh,” I disagreed, swinging our hands as we walked. “Tears don’t always mean sadness. You can cry because you’re happy too.”
However, in the case of Ben’s book, it reallydidend sad.
Would my love story end the same?
“Are you having fun?” I asked, after we walked into Halloween Emporium, the costume shop Dracula-dude had been advertising earlier that month.
“I am.” He stopped in the aisle and gripped the side of my neck, pressing our foreheads together. “It’s the best day I’ve ever had. All thanks to you.”
“So, you liked my friends?”
“Very much so,” he answered, pulling away but snagging hold of my hand. We walked farther down the aisle, looking at scary monster masks. “Such a shame Taylor had to leave for work. I quite enjoyed my discussion with him. You were right. He’s a wonderful person.”
“See?” I grinned. “He’s awesome. And he likes you too. I can tell.”
“He looks a lot like Charlie,” Zeke said, a bit softer. “Same dark hair and hazel eyes. He shares many of the same interests as well. Speaking to him felt so familiar, yet different. It stirred up emotions I thought I let go of.”
“I’m sorry you lost Charlie,” I said, moving my thumb along the top of his hand. We stopped in front of an animatronic scarecrow that growled as it slowly moved a pitchfork up and down. “It’s okay for you to talk about him, you know. You said you didn’t love him, but I think you did. Even if you don’t realize it.”
“I love you more,” he responded.
“I know.” I pressed my cheek to his hand as he caressed my face. “But the heart is big enough to love more than one person. And you’ve lived for so many years. I’m not mad or upset that I’m not the only one. I’d probably be upset if Iwas, because a hundred and forty-something years is a long time to be alone and without love. I’m glad you found it in other people.”
“There’s a difference, though, you see.” Zeke backed me up against the shelf and took my face in his hand. “Losing them was hard… Philip, Charlie, and other men in between. But losingyouis unthinkable. I wouldn’t survive it. I thought my soul was shattered before, but I would truly die if I lost you.”
“Is that even possible?” I asked. “Can a ghost have a second death?”
“A spirit can be banished, as your friend Callum will try to do to Philip tonight. But there’s another way a spirit can die,” he whispered. “You’ve seen signs of it before.”
I released a shaky breath at the memory of Zeke floating in the air like a corpse, his eyes glazed over and not responding when I tried to talk to him.
“Our minds can die,” he said, moving his fingers through my hair. “For the first few years after my death, I drifted through the mansion unseen and unheard by all. Time was sporadic. There were days where I looked out the window, only to realize a month or more had passed when I finally looked away again. It took me five years to gather enough energy to ruffle a curtain or slide a cup across the table. Then another five to learn how to materialize and hold my form. Some spirits take longer to gain this ability, while others never learn at all. Because they’re too lost in their grief. Like Nellie… you’ve seen her once before.”
“The woman in the cocktail dress who just floats around crying?”
“Yes. She was Jasper’s wife. The trauma of him killing her has her trapped in a perpetual state of grief. I have tried speaking with her, but she can’t hear me. Can’t see me. All she knows is sadness.” Zeke rested his cheek against mine. “That’s what I’d become if I lost you. And, in a way, itwouldbe a second death. My mind and soul would be consumed by the pain.”
Words failed me, so I brought our lips together instead. Needing the intimacy. My mouth trembled against his as he cupped the back of my head and deepened the kiss.
“Look, Mama! That scarecrow gives me the creeps. I love it!”
We pulled apart as a little girl dressed as a zombie ran past us to look at the animatronic—that was still growling by the way. It was a miracle we’d been able to have a serious conversation with that noisy thing just a few feet away.
“I’m so sorry,” the mom said to us, once she caught up to her daughter. “She gets excited by scary things.”
“It’s all good. I’m the same way,” I responded with a grin, then grabbed Zeke’s hand and led him to another aisle. I picked up a rubber bat and waved it in front of his face. “Should we get some to decorate the mansion? Oh, maybe some of those plastic jack-o-lanterns that light up. William would have fun with one of those. He’d probably carry it around and try to scare me. We can buy bags of candy and let the kids trick-or-treat in the house too, maybe have bowls in certain rooms for them to find. Create our own Halloween traditions.”
“As lovely as that sounds, I’m afraid we won’t be doing any celebrating tonight.” Zeke’s somber expression killed my enthusiasm.
“Oh.” I felt so stupid. “Right. Sorry.”
How had I forgotten about the damn ritual? For a split second, I’d let myself fantasize about a life that could never be. Because things didn’t always work out like they did in movies. The good guys didn’t always win.
Sometimes, the monsters did.
“If it means anything,” Zeke said, touching my cheek. “I loved your smile as you spoke of such wonderful things. I want nothing more than to build a life with you.”
“But it’s impossible, right?”
