Page 6

6

It was only the power of overpriced coffee and the late-night antics of my supernatural visitor that inspired me to get out of my makeshift bed on the couch and leave the house the next morning. Despite still being spooked, I couldn’t help but feel for my new ghost friend.

We’d shared a moment of kinship.

And I couldn’t get her eerie whisper out of my head.

That was how I found myself at the coffee shop long before the library opened its doors. The only thing left was to wait, and then research could begin.

Now, more than ever, I was determined to find answers.

The problem was, I really wanted to get this right. For example, when the ghost had said to ‘run away,’ was she talking to me, or was she echoing something in her own past? Maybe if I found out who she was, and who lived in this house before Professor Hamway, I could help her find some sort of closure.

Considering the home’s historical nature, I might be able to find something in the archives. Especially if something tragic had happened.

To find that information, I’d have to access the periodicals. However, my personal research skills were limited.

But I was willing to bet Ms. McKinnen—the head librarian—would know what to do—if she didn’t already have that information.

Ms. McKinnen was personally involved with the local historical society. She liked to brag about this any time someone checked out a remotely relevant novel. I might only have to only casually mention that I was house-sitting for Professor Hamway, and she’d spill the gossip.

She was probably the most valuable resource around. A weakness to be exploited.

“Bianca?” Finn’s shocked voice broke through my thoughts. My eyes shot up as the blond-haired man pushed past a line of students as he made his way to my small, round table. “What’s with that face?” he asked.

“Good morning.” I smiled at him. What a mildly insulting observation—this was my normal face. “How are you? What are you doing here so early?”

Finn’s mouth dipped. At first, he didn’t respond. Instead, he placed his leather backpack on the floor and sat down in the seat across from me. “It’s not that early. And I come here every day at this time. But”—he leveled a suspicious look at me, his gray eyes calculating—“you don’t. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but we can’t break any more rules. We’re in college now.”

I raised an eyebrow—he was certainly very paranoid—but he wasn’t done.

“Does this have anything to do with you canceling on me last night?” he asked. “What’s going on? I was worried. ”

Sure. I could tell how worried he was when he didn’t care if the ghost killed me.

I picked up my cup and blew on the rising steam before I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “I study too, you know. Plus, I like reading. I’m allowed to be at the library—it’s a public place.”

“Okay,” he conceded. “But you only come at night, when most people are partying. In fact, how are you even awake before ten in the morning?”

Darn him, he was right.

“The magic of caffeine.” I sipped on my coffee to prove my point. “Lots and lots of caffeine.”

His lips thinned, but he nodded. I could see from the wary look in his eyes that he didn’t believe me, but he seemed inclined to let it drop.

He pulled out his laptop and opened it.

That was kind of nonsensical. “Finn, why are you setting everything up? The library opens in less than ten minutes. Won’t you just have to move it again?”

“Yes,” Finn began typing. “But that’s ten minutes of work that I’ll be able to finish. I’m behind…” His voice trailed off as he frowned at the computer.

He was weird.

“I thought you finished your work for the semester already,” I reminded him.

Finn shrugged. “It’s not that. I’m working on something for my mother. Where did you go last night?”

I ignored his question. “Your mom hired you?”

I hoped she was paying him.

“Something like that.” He looked up, and my heart suddenly jerked—he was displeased.

What happened ?

But the look passed, and he grinned. “I’m glad you’re here with me this morning,” he said. And in an unexpected move, he shut his laptop and pulled one of my hands into his own. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Bianca.”

I almost choked, and my face exploded in heat. I didn’t know what he was planning, but this was the side of him that always caught me off guard—the one that made me think I meant as much to him as he did to me.

And every time this happened, I acted pathetic. “I do? I-I’m glad I could help.”

“You do.” He traced his thumb over my knuckles. My face grew warmer, and his grin grew. “Sit with me today.”

My warm feelings vanished.

I averted my eyes, unable to stomach the guilt. Under no circumstance could I let him know what I was researching. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?” Finn sounded surprised, and when I looked up, he was watching me with raised eyebrows. He let go of my hand. “You don’t want to sit with me?” He paused, and a cautious glimmer shone in his serious eyes. “Bianca, did something happen?”

“Not really!” I vehemently denied, my voice catching at the end. I had to find a way to redirect his attention. “I might have to go back and forth between the library and greenhouses throughout the day. I don’t want to disturb you.”

He rested his chin on his fist as he watched me. “You’re a terrible liar. Besides, you’d never wear a skirt and those shoes when you work with plants.”

I froze, curling my fingers over said skirt as I cursed myself for the obvious flaw in my fake plans. Finn was right, of course. I never dressed this way when gardening. I should have worn my leggings and the sweatshirt I’d borrowed from him. That would have been more believable. “Um…”

“What are you hiding?” Finn studied me, his eyes demanding answers.

I grew more flustered. I had to think of something else! An excuse so awful it guaranteed that Finn would have zero interest in being anywhere near me today.

“I-I…” My mental resources scrambled to find purchase, but nothing brilliant came to mind. So, instead, I blurted whatever next popped up in my head. “I’m writing a research paper on how to properly cultivate the benefits of ground placenta.”

Finn’s mouth opened, and my face burned. But I couldn’t stop now. “I have a theory that the placenta is—”

“Stop!” Finn’s complexion was slightly green as he watched me in horror as his disgust for bodily functions and parts remained strong. “Stop saying that word. That’s awesome for you, but I really don’t need to know any more.”

Crude, but effective.

“I’ll still sit with you.” I smiled at him. I had to make sure he wanted to stay away. “I just thought you’d be grossed out, especially because I might have to do some interviews too. See, I was also going to touch on using menstrual—”

“Just, please , stop talking about this. This whole thing. Stop.” Finn had buried his head under his arms. “I don’t care what you need to do to get into Bryce’s special class. Just, please, do your research far, far away from me.”

“Oh.” I pretended to look sad. And I kind of was. The reminder that my path into the botany major was subject to the whims of stupid Bryce Dubois and his interpretation of my biology term paper caused my ire to rise. “If you insist.”

I would, of course, probably think of a different topic when the time came .

“I insist.” Finn stood up and gathered his laptop. “The library’s open, by the way. Are we still meeting tonight?”

Tonight? Well, I did have a ghost to bond with. But I could spare an hour or two for food. “Sure.”

Unfortunately, I learned that Ms. McKinnen had the weekend off, and the front desk volunteer was no help. The bulk of my work would have to wait.

So, with nothing left to do, I decided to do some research on ghost hunting to pass the time.

Or maybe I was just avoiding going back to the house.

I found a private cubicle and set up a base. Thanks to the prestige of our anthropology and psychology departments, I’d found a rather sizable collection of paranormal reading material available to start.

Unfortunately, there was so much scattered information it took longer than expected to put everything together. As the hours flew by, the only thing gained from my efforts was a headache and a cold mocha latte.

Sensors, monitors, etc. None of that made any sense when it came to hunting a ghost.

After all… since I was able to see and feel the spirits, it wasn’t relevant. I might not understand my own abilities very well, but there was no reason to invest in technology and waste money.

But that’s how the professionals did it, right? I wasn’t sure.

Damen probably knew the answer. However, it wasn’t like I could ask him—I’d rather dramatically burned that bridge yesterday. But not understanding something—and knowing that answers were just beyond my reach—was making it hard to keep my resolve .

I added another doodle to the margin of my paper and sighed. I wasn’t ready to be brave yet, so maybe I’d get a snack.

“Are you Miss Brosnan?”

I jumped, almost snapping my pencil in two, as I spun in my seat.

An elderly woman stood some feet away from the back of my cubicle. She wore a floral print, calf-length dress, and completed the ensemble with an old-lady sweater, dark tights, and flats. Her white hair was pinned back into a grandmotherly bun, but she’d missed some flyaway curls that framed her face. Even though she was hunched over her walking stick, it was obvious that she was taller than me. Yet despite her frail appearance, her honey-colored eyes were sharp beneath her gold-rimmed glasses.

She was probably here to yell at me for sneaking in a beverage, which was technically not allowed.

“I’m so sorry!” I apologized, grabbing the empty cup as I shot to my feet. “I’ll get rid of it right now.”

“What?” She seemed confused before she looked at my hand. “Oh, I don’t care about that.”

Now I was confused. Then why would someone be looking for me? Who was she?

“I heard that you’re staying at Aine Hamway’s house while she’s out of town,” she said, surprising me. Her gaze lingered over the desk. “And, unsurprisingly, you’re snooping around. I’d like to discuss a few things with you regarding that.”

“Oh.” I stood there, unsure. What did we have to talk about? Should I offer her a seat? But these weren’t the best chairs. “Um…”

She tilted her head. “Come along,” she said, and leaned on her cane as she turned.

I still didn’t get it. Did she come to the library to find me? But why ?

She waved her free hand as she noticed I wasn’t following her. “We’ll talk in my office.”

She had an office? I still didn’t even know who she was.

“Wait,” I called out, and my heart raced as I rushed to gather my books and papers. Why was I so messy?

I was shoving everything in my bag as she spoke again. “Let’s hurry it up.”

Oh no, she was getting angry. “Okay, just—”

“Gloria Protean.” Damen Abernathy’s decadent tones reached my ears, and my muscles seized. “Fancy seeing you here.”

A silent curse shot through my mind. I hadn’t been able to avoid his velvety voice and entrancing looks for as long as I’d wanted.

There was a strange growl, and I peeked around the cubicle. And yes, Damen was indeed there, smiling at the elderly woman in an almost mischievous way. But her features no longer held the same grandmotherly softness as before.

That didn’t seem to bother him. “It’s rare to see you outside of your bubble,” he said. “What has you lingering in the liberal arts section?”

I wasn’t ready for this meeting. I’d kicked Titus in the balls. I had also maced him.

I needed more time.

Perhaps Damen’s presence was a coincidence. He might not even know I was here. I was still safely hidden behind a cubicle wall.

“Either way, I need to borrow Miss Brosnan for a while,” he said.

Darn it.

“Why?” Her voice was unexpectedly harsh. “I needed to talk to her first.”

“That’s not a good idea right now.” Damen’s face was the picture of boyish politeness despite his disregard for the elderly. “But actually, now that I’ve gotten your attention, I wanted to let you know that Cécile is in the lunchroom again.”

“You can’t distract me,” she frowned. “Cécile isn’t some wild beast. She knows better than to go too far.”

“We have a deal,” Damen replied, his tone slightly icier. “And you know how I feel about untethered companions. You should handle it before I call her real owner and send her back where she belongs.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Ms. Protean covered her mouth and then glanced at me. “I’m sorry, but I’ll reschedule with you later.”

Damen raised an eyebrow as he watched her rush away.

And since he was focused on her retreat, this could be my chance to escape! I needed space to compose myself before our inevitable confrontation.

I grabbed my bag and slipped into one of the aisles. I had to be quick.

I hadn’t even made it ten feet down the narrow space before I was pulled to a halt. Damen gazed at me, amused, as he held firmly to the backpack. He smirked. “Where do you think you’re going?”