Page 45 of Ghostly Touches

I gape at him.

“How the hell am I supposed to know? Isn’t ityourjob to know all there is about these things?”

“They weren’t acting normally. How would they have known about you and that they would need you to do whatever it is that happened?” Theo demands. “What spell did you cast?”

“I don’t know! Read the open pages—”

“I CAN’T! THE PAGES ARE BLANK!” Spit goes flying as he yells.

My hands fall to my hips as I glare at him. “No, they aren’t! I can read the pages just fine. Are you blind?”

Theodon blinks, his anger vanishing. “You can read what’s on the pages?”

I suck my teeth and roll my eyes. “I’m not a fan of repeating myself, Theodon. You heard me the first time.”

“Your attitude right now is vexing.” Theodon turns to look back at the book, his face smoothing back out as he hides whatever he’s feeling.

My brows shoot upwards. “Myattitude is warranted, thank you very much. You were yelling at me.”

“I don’t yell.”

I scoff. “You know what, sweet cheeks? I think I’ve had enough of you for a bit.”

Theodon doesn’t look back at me as he stares at the blank pages of the book, but he does shake his head. Under his breath, I hear him say, “Sweet cheeks?”

“Theodon! Willow!”

Kwil’s voice booms through the house.

“We’re here!” Theodon calls out over his shoulder as he uses a letter opener to close the book. On the desk beside it lies an old cloth that he picks up and throws over the book before picking it up and tucking it under his arm.

Kwil rushes into the room with his sword drawn. As he looks around at the mess, he sheathes it.

“Everyone okay?”

“Willow is wounded,” Theodon says, straightening and turning to look at him. “Tend to it for her and then pack all the clothes this safehouse has. We’re leaving at once. The place has been compromised.”

With that, Theodon storms out of the room. Kwil and I stare after him until the sound of his footsteps vanish down the hall. The Ghost turns his hooded head to look at me.

“Do you need me to carry you?”

I scowl at him. “No, I’m fine.”

While I don’t need to be carried, I do need to lean on him to get the weight off my ankle. We head to the kitchen where I sit down at the table while Kwil finds a first aid kit. He locates it in one of the cupboards and carries it over. Pulling out a chair, he drags it over until it is planted directly in front of me and sits down.

“Let me see the injury.”

I lift my leg gently, and Kwil takes it onto his lap. A shiver of pleasure slides up my leg at the contact. I bite my lip, not liking the reason behind it. Kwil’s gloved hand pauses.

“Why does this feel good to simply touch you?”

His question is soft and full of wonder. I swallow.

“Physical contact is the closest we can get to our souls connecting,” I mutter as I look up at the ceiling, pretending I can’t feel what he’s talking about. “While being in each other’s presence will ease the strain on our souls, touch will intensify the connection. Even through material such as gloves and clothes.”

Kwil nods but says nothing else about it. Good. I really don’t want to dwell on this. He opens the first aid box on the table and begins to rummage through it. My blood is dripping all over his white cloak, but it runs off easily. What type of material is this cloak made of? Kwil pulls out the necessary supplies and inspects my ankle.

“It doesn’t look deep.”

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