Page 112 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
“How was I supposed to know? You didn’t say that.” She hit her burning chest, trying in vain to work through another coughing fit. “I feel like I can breathe fire.”
Xander poured her another glass, passing it to her. “Sip,” he repeated with a stern tone.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” she said, suddenly feeling warm and spinny. “Maybe.”
“Don’t you dare,” he warned.
“I’m going tosipit.” However, doing so barely improved the drinking experience. She scrunched her face, only breathing a small puff of fire that time. “Are we bonding? Is that what this is?”
“I thought you weren’t psychic.”
She chose to ignore his sarcasm. “I’m not. I just know people. The unchanging and predictable nature of humanity, and all that. You’re a collector,” she said. “Collector’s bond.”
Xander regarded her for a moment. “I’m curious about the parameters of your ability. Is it only humans or is it any living being?”
“I can’t read the house, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I am.”
Lucky nodded before taking another sip and wincing. She needed to kick her plan into high gear before she was too tipsy to remember it.
Rebel’s inquisitive mind had once again steered Lucky in the right direction.The Caretakerwas designed to focus on one person at a time. Initially, no one knew what happened if two people who shared memories stayed inside the house at night, at the same time.
The answer so far was business as usual. But what if those two people had already experienced specters individually?
Would there be a shared specter experience?
Would there be one for each of them?
Or would it be as Luckyhopedsuspected?
The house might be old, but the sheer level of its desperation paired with its glaring restrictions suggested the house was inexperienced. It might not yet be strong enough to use the memories of more than one person at a time. It might not even know how.
Xander was Hennessee’s favorite by a wide purple-flower margin. Not to mention, Lucky had a history of not cooperating and challenging it, whereas he didn’t. If Hennessee had to choose between creating a specter for her or him, who would win?
Lucky asked, “When did you write your name on the wall?”
“I was seven, I think. We were here for a month in the summer, my stepmom and I. My dad refused, so he took my brother to Spain for their vacation.”
“Spain? Over Hennessee House? Unthinkable.” She’d earned a sardonic smile from him for that one.
He continued, “The house didn’t ask me to write it. I was bored, had a knife, and carved my name into a couple of places, actually. The attic wall. The orange tree. Under the dining room table.”
“That’s Gengar’s favorite tree. Interesting,” she said. “Did you see illusions or specters back then?”
He nodded. “I didn’t understand what was happening. I thought they were imaginary friends because they were almost always animals.”
Bobbi, the first caretaker, saw her guinea pig, but Hennesseeused her grandfather to communicate. Whydidn’tit use a person back then for Xander too? Because he was just a kid, maybe?
“Do you know if your stepmom saw them?” she asked gently.
“I don’t,” he said thoughtfully. “But I do think her connection was similar to yours. I remember her asking for things and then they would happen like magic. We had such a wonderful time. She loved it here.”
“You miss her.”
“Every day. After the second caretaker quit, production went on a brief hiatus, and I slept here. When I saw her specter, I thought she’d come back as a ghost.”
Lucky reached across the table, covering his hand with hers. She knew exactly what he needed to hear. “Ghosts are remnants of who people used to be. That I know. Who wearemoves on to the next journey, whatever and wherever that may be.”
