Page 116 of Ghostly Touches

“I’m glad you’re here.” I admit into the darkness.

“Same, beautiful, same.”

* * *

“Areyou sure this is the place?” I stare at the large university building in wonder.

Students are walking in and out of the brick building, laughing or complaining to one another about ordinary things. I envy their problems. Theirs seem so trivial.

“Yup, this is the address. Fredrick Noir is a dean here,” Jonah says beside me. “I think we’ll just make it if we can find his office and talk to him. Online it says he should be in his office for the next thirty minutes or so.”

I snort. “Do you think this conversation will be done in thirty minutes?”

“I hope it takes five minutes tops. We ask him for help, he waves his hands, does a little chanty-chant and boom; we’re uncursed,” my friend says at once. “Hey, stop that.”

His hand grabs mine, pulling it away from my chest. I swallow hard as I breathe through the dizzy spell that threatens to take me to my knees. It’s been a week since we’ve seen the Ghosts. The pain is nearly unbearable. I can’t keep food down, and even drinking water has become a task. All I want to do is sleep. Thank goodness for Jonah. He never seems bothered when I reach out to grab his hand for comfort or when I roll over in the middle of the night searching for sweet relief. Physical touch is necessary now. I’m sure without Jonah I’d be curled up in a corner sobbing until my reaper appeared to take me away.

I take another deep breath and square my shoulders.

“Sorry, alright, let’s go deal with this. Then we’ll head to my mother’s house,” I tell him.

“Lead the way my beautiful muse!” Jonah replies happily, squeezing my hand.

I look over at him. Wearing a cowboy hat to hide his horns, a trench coat to keep his tail out of sight, and cowboy boots that we stole, he looks a bit out of place in a sea of jeans and tee shirts. But it kind of suits him.

I pull him towards the building. It takes us some time to figure out the layout, but eventually we get to the sixth floor where a receptionist sits behind a large desk. She looks up at the both of us and gives us a warm smile. She looks a little younger than me. Perhaps she’s a student.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she asks. Her eyes linger on Jonah’s face a moment longer than appropriate, but I ignore it as I lean forward.

“I’m looking to speak to Dean Noir. Does he have a minute?” I ask.

She frowns. “Unfortunately, Dean Noir is out of the office until Monday.”

Fuck. What day is it? I look at the calendar behind her desk. Today is only Friday. My heart sinks. We’ll have to continue to fight monsters for a whole weekend? We’ve come so close to finding the mage who can help us, and now we’ve turned up empty handed. With the lack of sleep, the inability to keep much of anything down, and the pain in my chest, I don’t know how much more fight I have to keep the monsters from the Third Realm away from us.

“Does he have a phone number we can contact him by? Or an email address?” Jonah asks. The despair must be clearly written on my face. Email addresses are a new thing for him. They hadn’t been invented yet when he disappeared. Despite our situation, I smile, proud that he’s catching on to the little things like this.

“We need to speak to him. Maybe if we can leave him a note or something he’ll adjust his schedule,” he suggests.

The young woman manages to catch the skepticism on her face before it lingers too long.

“I can give you his email address. He checks his emails often, so you may hear faster from him that way rather than trying to schedule an appointment since he’s booked up for the next few weeks.” She reaches across her desk and hands us a business card with his information on it. Jonah takes it. “There is an internet cafe just across the street from campus. You can use their computers if you’re not students here.”

Flashing her a wide grin, Jonah says, “Thanks for your help.”

Or lack thereof, I think as I force myself to smile at her.

Jonah pulls me away from the desk, and we head to the elevator. As we stand there waiting for it to arrive, he leans forward and whispers, “We’ll get this done fast. Hopefully, we’ll hear from him in a few hours. Until then, let’s get you something to eat. You looked ready to strangle the girl.”

I roll my eyes. “No, I didn’t. I smiled at her.”

“I think baring your teeth like that is called either a grimace or an intimidation tactic,” Jonah whispers.

He follows up his comment with a lick against my neck. The wet touch catches me off guard. My giggle mingles with the sound of the elevator ping as it comes to a stop and opens its doors.

Chapter32

WILLOW

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