Page 128 of Looking for Love in All the Haunted Places
Specter-Maverick wore her favorite blue sweater and glasses. “Why am I not surprised?”
Lucky had to turn away to clear her head. Too late to change her mind now. She should’ve picked Xander for her specter—honestly, what was she thinking? Once again, she’d done this to herself by spending the day indulging in her thoughts about the real Maverick. Was he okay? She said what she needed to say, but did it upset him? Would he call tonight?
He needed time. She’d be fine waiting, just as she promised, because she trusted him to be honest and always come to her when he was ready.
“Can we talk? Please? I don’t want to make you glitch if I don’t have to.” She kept her gaze fixed on his shoes.
“Yes.”
She had her questions memorized and wanted to start off swinging for the fences. “Out of all the caretakers, why did you treat me differently?”
“You’re a know-it-all.”
She couldn’t call it—could be the specter or the house. “So, it was my ability?”
“Your presence brings me much contentment.”
She quickly glanced up—its face was blank, expressionless—and regretted it. She didn’t like seeing Maverick like that. At all. It felt wrong, like something crawling under her skin. “That’s quite the sentence.”
“This form is better. I remember it.”
“Interesting.”
Lucky was positive the house remembered Brightly too, but Specter-Brightly didn’t speak with that level of precision. Xander didn’t mention it saying anything out of character either. It was possible the “it” Hennessee referred to was the connection, and not the person. Did having a connection alter the specter’s capabilities? Maybe it relied on Lucky to generate it and used its own connection to strengthen it.
“You are eager to understand,” Specter-Maverick said. “Amusing.”
“Are you laughing at me because I’m wrong?”
“I am embracing you because you care.”
“Who made you?” Lucky nervously shuffled her feet. “You never answer when I ask.”
“I exist here. I am home.”
“Does that mean you don’t know?”
“I know what it is to wait. I want more.”
“More what?” She tried to keep her frustration in check. This was the best conversation they’d had so far. She had to be patient with it. “I can’t read you so you’re gonna have to help me out here.”
“Couldyou give me a home in your palace?”
“I could try. You’re not human. It might not work,” she said. “You’ll also have to let our connection go first. Are you willing to do that?”
The first two times she overloaded were accidents and herability barely prevailed. She might be strong enough to stand against Hennessee House, but that didn’t mean an abnormal reading wouldn’t damage her in the process. She was alone. She needed to be safe.
Maverick would’ve been proud.
Meanwhile, Specter-Maverick considered her request for quite some time before saying, “Yes. I will give you my eyes.”
Lucky very nearly recoiled—again with the sinister vibes. At this point, Hennessee had to be doing that shit on purpose. Years of isolation must’ve warped any and all chances of it having a normal sense of humor. She performed a quick self-check—all systems go—and then braced herself to perform an impossible reading.
“I will let go.” Specter-Maverick held out its hand. “You must follow.”
“All right. I’m trusting you, Hennessee. Don’t hurt me.” She took its hand—it was smooth, soft to the touch, and as cool as peppermint—and expected to walk to some hidden corner deep within the house where it hid the thing it considered to be its eyes.
Instead, she took its hand and saweverything.
