Hell, Meet Haunted

by Tee, Marian

  Also, Unidentified Woman was, well, no longer unidentified now. Her name is Edith Crown, a mid-twenties schoolteacher who regularly commuted to Portland for work. 100% human, CSI records further showed, and with no known "magical" affiliation.

  Last but not the least, this meant all our suspicions about Edith were incorrect. She was the real victim here, and this new twist had hurtled us back to square one and with a different person of interest: a willing accomplice (WA) of our missing subject, and whose body MS now occupied.

  "I can feel you frowning," Hadrian murmured from behind while massaging my scalp as he shampooed my hair.

  "I am frowning." Which I wasn't supposed to be, considering I was having my first bathtub date with Tall, Dark, and Hot. But I just couldn't help it. "I feel so bad for Edith," I confessed. "Did she really die of a heart attack or is that just some kind of magical cover-up?"

  "The former, most likely," Hadrian answered flatly. "Living human bodies, without proper magical enhancements, aren't designed to endure Tartarus' climate. Just think of it as going out of space, without a suit and an oxygen tank."

  "Which worked to MS' advantage, no doubt," I said darkly. A dead Edith couldn't exactly call 911...or could she? Water splashed over the tub's edges as I flipped around to look at Hadrian, asking excitedly, "What if Edith's ghost—-"

  "Is no longer with us," Hadrian finished, and before I could even ask if he was sure about this, he went on to add gently, "I've already checked with the system. She moved on the second she died."

  My shoulders slumped. "I really thought she'd linger around, considering she was murdered and all."

  "That's simply another myth Hollywood perpetuated," Hadrian dismissed.

  "So what now?"

  "I'm meeting with another CSI agent tomorrow—-"

  "Can I come with?" I asked eagerly.

  "Wouldn't even dream of leaving my Watson behind," Hadrian drawled.

  And that's how I ended accompanying him the next day to Edith's home in the suburbs, where a guy in a suit was already waiting for us by the front doors. He introduced himself as Tristan Green and added that his superior Dike had already briefed him about the case.

  "Then you understand it's highly confidential?"

  "Yes, sir."

  I glanced at Hadrian in surprise. "Is it?"

  "We don't want anyone, dead or alive, thinking it's even marginally possible to escape Tartarus."

  "I understand, sir," the agent answered.

  "Got that," I said at the same time and was immediately confused. "You were talking to me, weren't you?"

  But Hadrian and Tristan were already striding down the paved walkway.

  "Soul swaps always requires consent," Tristan was telling Hadrian, "but just as with any spell, there's a way to circumvent this. In our victim's case—-" Tristan unlocked the front door as he spoke. "It's likely she was subjected to a controlling spell first."

  I closed the door behind us just as Tristan switched the lights on, and the first thing I saw was Hadrian rolling his eyes.

  Huh?

  I was about to ask him if I had done something wrong when I saw a visibly puzzled Tristan glancing at the door.

  Oops.

  I was usually more careful about hiding my presence, but Hadrian's company had obviously spoiled me, and I kinda sorta forgot I was a ghost whom no one else could see or hear.

  "Must be the wind." Tristan sounded like he was trying to convince himself of this.

  "Must be," Hadrian agreed without missing a beat and changed the subject right after, asking, "Who else has had access to this place since Edith was found dead?"

  "It's just me and my team. We've had surveillance set up since we learned about Edith being a person of interest. So far, no one's made any attempt to enter the premises."

  And true enough, the whole place looked undisturbed, which I personally found a little sad. The whole house still had a lived-in feel to it, like Edith was about to walk through the front door any moment.

  Hadrian started asking about vehicles as we moved to the second floor, and at first I thought he was talking about actual cars. It was only when Tristan answered about their sweep of the house coming up with zero results that I realized they might be talking of something else. I may not have grown up reading Car and Driver, but even I knew cars weren't something you could easily hide even if you lived in a fancy mansion, which Edith obviously didn't.

  We entered Edith's bedroom, and it was just as neat and girly as the rest of her home. One wall was completely covered with shelves containing an incredible collection of first-edition classics. There was also a dressing table in one corner, and I walked up to it for a closer look. There were a couple of Polaroids washi-taped to the mirror, mostly photos of Edith and her friends or Edith posing in front of a bookstore. She also had a porcelain brush lying on top of the table, and it looked beautiful, expensive, and old.

  "Sir?" I heard Tristan say while I examined the painted details on the back of the brush. Could this be an heirloom or something she had bought from an antique shop?

  "What is it?" Hadrian asked.

  "I, ah, I just thought I should point out there's a floating hairbrush next to you."

  Shit. The brush slipped out of my hold in my panic, but Hadrian caught it handily.

  "Nothing to worry about," Hadrian said calmly as he placed the hairbrush back on the vanity. "We just have a newly released soul in our company."

  A disbelieving expression crossed the agent's face. "You mean a ghost, sir?"

  Hadrian's instant glare had me choking back a laugh while Tristan hastily stammered out an apology.

  "It's sweet of you to get mad on my behalf," I told Hadrian ruefully, "but there's no need. He's just telling the truth."

  "Hm."

  That was probably grunt speak for 'I'm still pissed', and it was just too cute that I couldn't resist holding on to his shoulders as I tiptoed to place a quick kiss on his lips. But when I tried pulling away, he insisted on keeping an arm around my waist, which of course had the agent looking momentarily baffled.

  "My girlfriend's already aware of the facts of the case—-"

  Did he just call me, a ghost, his girlfriend?

  "But she's also relatively new to how things work in our world. Could you explain to her what vehicles are?"

  "Of course, sir." Tristan seemed to have found his bearings back, and I couldn't help grinning when he even turned my way as he told me how vehicles could be any object of any monetary value. "What makes them ideal to use for controlling spells is its perceived worth to the spell's target." I couldn't help noticing how he sounded more nervous than afraid now, like the prospect of unintentionally disrespecting Hadrian's girlfriend worried him more than the possibility of being haunted.

  "We were hoping to find the vehicle here," the agent continued with a grimace, "but there's nothing in this house that has even the faintest trace of magic in them."

  An idea occurred to me, and I borrowed Hadrian's phone to search for Edith's name on social media. No Facebook or Twitter, but Edith's name turned up on Instagram, and I started scrolling through her feed, unaware of the way Tristan couldn't take his gaze off what in his eyes was a floating phone.

  Hadrian and Tristan started talking about doing a sweep on Edith's workplace while I started checking Edith's story highlights.

  Bingo!

  I tugged at Hadrian's sleeve, saying excitedly, "Take a look at this." One of the stories Edith highlighted featured a pink leather-bound book that she had propped up on an ivory bookstand.

  The ivory bookstand was still on her bedside table, but as for the pink leather-bound book...

  "Since she has so many books around," I told Hadrian, "and she is a schoolteacher, I was thinking that a book could be the vehicle we're looking for."

  Hadrian plucked the phone out of my hold and tossed it to the agent. He relayed my words to Tristan and asked afterwards, "Have you seen it anywhere?"

  I tried not to look dis
appointed at Hadrian's very sensible question. Shit. That was possible, wasn't it? I mean, maybe the book was her go-to read when doing the #2, and for all I know, it was just in her bathroom—-

  "No, sir." Tristan's voice was pensive. "We've swept the entire house twice, actually, and that includes all the books in her shelves. None of it looked like this."

  "Can someone in your department trace it? Find out how it came to the victim's possession?"

  "I can make a call to tech support right now," Tristan offered, "and have this case prioritized."

  When the agent excused himself from the room to make the call, Hadrian bent his head and brushed his lips against mine. "Good job."

  I beamed up at him. "Told you. Perfect Watson."

  "Hm."

  I cupped his face and saw his brows arch in surprise as I made him look at me. "You called me your girlfriend earlier."

  "You don't want to be?"

  "But I'm a ghost."

  "So?"

  "You're really okay with having a ghost for a girlfriend?"

  "Not if she'd turn out to be the kind of girlfriend who'd force me to keep repeating myself."

  "Har har har."

  Hadrian gently peeled my hands off his face and kissed my knuckles. "I want you with me," he said simply. "It's been a long time, much, much longer than you realize right now, since I last enjoyed being in a woman's company."

  "But..."

  He nipped my lips. "No buts."

  I took a deep breath. "On one condition then."

  He raised a brow.

  "Could you go with me to my ex's house?"

  Chapter Six

  DEAR DIARY,

  I was fourteen when I had my first boyfriend. He was two years older, the boy-next-door type, and he taught me how to French kiss. We lasted for five months. I was already in college when I met my second boyfriend. We made it as far as second base, but we also eventually fell out of love when he and his family moved to another state. My third boyfriend was my last, and when I had died in my sleep, it was on the day of our anniversary. Or what should've been our tenth anniversary...if I hadn't caught him cheating.

  JASON'S PLACE WAS JUST as I remembered. All dark wood and leather, and he even had his guest room converted into a posh, Insta-worthy man cave: soundproofed walls and a huge TV for watching sports, a pinball machine and two pool tables, and right next to the massive L-shaped couch was the culmination of his dreams: his very own wine bar, to serve as the perfect stage whenever he had ladies to impress with his bartending skills.

  The woman he had cheated me with was his girlfriend now, and the noises coming out from his en-suite made it pretty obvious that having a shower was the last thing on their minds. Hearing the sounds they were making hurt, and I had expected this. But what did surprise me was how the pain didn't turn out to be this huge punch to the guts I had been dreading. Instead, it was almost bittersweet, like a favorite song that I knew I was hearing for the last time.

  The pink day bed I had bought on our first year together was still in its usual corner, and I sat down while I waited for the couple to, err, reach the finish line. It took a while, but they eventually came out, both of them already fully dressed.

  "I'm heading out first," Alicia was telling him as she stood in front of the full-length mirror, openly admiring her reflection. "I don't want to be late for my meeting."

  "Take care," Jason said without glancing up. He had his watch drawer pulled out, and he was studying the items in it like he couldn't make up his mind on what to wear.

  Pausing by the doorway, Alicia turned to blow him a kiss, saying sweetly, "I love you."

  "Love you." The smile he sent her way didn't reach his eyes, but she didn't even seem to notice.

  "Bye!" The door swung shut, and as soon as Jason heard this, a mask seemed to fall from his face, and his face became a picture of weariness as he collapsed on the edge of the bed.

  He stared blankly at the wall for a long moment, and just when I was wondering if he had drugs in his system, he suddenly bent down and clutched his head in a painfully tight grip.

  "I'm sorry."

  And he started to weep.

  "God, I'm sorry. And I still miss you, dammit. Why did you have to die?"

  I had never seen him cry in all the years we had been together, and knowing that I was the reason behind his tears now had me stumbling to my feet. The sight of him weeping caught me off guard, but I quickly blinked the tears back. I couldn't cry here. Jason might not be able to hear me, but Hadrian would. He had agreed to wait outside the hallway to ward off any possible ghosts in the area, and it didn't seem right if Hadrian saw me crying over my ex.

  I tried to control my emotions, but the urge to cry just kept growing stronger.

  Shit.

  And then I was running, rushing blindly through wall after wall after wall until I eventually ended up in the supplies room at the opposite end. The space was cramped and windowless, its lights switched off, but at that moment I found myself welcoming the darkness as tears rushed down my cheeks.

  I'm sorry, too, Jason.

  I let the tears fall freely, doing nothing to stop them because I knew this was going to be the last time I would ever cry for the man I had used to love.

  I HAD JUST LEFT THE supplies closet and was slowly making my way back to Hadrian when I sensed someone watching me from behind, following me.

  "Saoirse..."

  Fear transformed into full-blown terror when I heard the ghost whisper my name, and I didn't even think of looking back. I just broke into a run, panic once again getting the better of me, and because I was simply unlucky that way, I accidentally found myself running through a wall-mounted mirror.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  But it was already too late for me to look away, the mirror not only showing my own reflection but that of the ghost as well.

  It was a man in his late twenties and dressed rather formally in a tweed coat with elbow patches. He would've looked totally normal...if not for his eyes. They were completely white. Paper white. And they were staring straight at me.

  "Saoirse..."

  My brain cells kicked into overdrive a violent twitch rocked his body, and I threw myself through the door, screaming Hadrian's name as I fell hard against the hallway floor.

  The next few minutes were a bit of a daze. Hadrian seemed to have reach me with the speed of lighting, asking me what was wrong, but I was too terrified and shaken to say a single word. In the end, Hadrian simply swept me up in his arms, completely indifferent to the bewildered stares he invited when he stepped inside the elevator.

  It had me imagining how Hadrian probably looked in their eyes, with his arms weirdly positioned over his body like he was carrying an invisible burden (a.k.a. me), and it almost had me smiling. I probably would have if I hadn't caught sight of the same ghost standing behind a building post just as Hadrian stepped out to the basement.

  My arms instinctively tightened around his neck, and Hadrian tensed. "What is it?"

  "I c-can see him again," I half-stammered.

  "Where?" Hadrian demanded.

  I pointed a finger to the ghost's direction, but of course it was already gone.

  The drive back was spent in silence, but with Hadrian firmly gripping my hand the whole time, I could feel the fear draining out of me until I was able to breathe a little more easily and think a little less crazily. And as my heartbeat settled back to normal, one thing became clear: I couldn't let this happen over and over again. This was fast becoming a phobia, and it would cripple me permanently if I didn't do something about it.

  "Hadrian?"

  His hand squeezed mine, letting me know without words that he was listening.

  "Is there a way for me to fight back, in case a ghost turns violent?"

  HADRIAN ASKED ME TO wait in the living room as soon as we were home. A moment later, he returned from his study and knelt down to place a heavy gold coin in my hand. It had strange markings engraved on its surface, an
d I almost dropped it when I felt the coin vibrate powerfully the moment I ran my fingers over its textured lines.

  "It's a special coin," Hadrian said tautly.

  "A magical coin?"

  "A magical weapon," he corrected. "It's a temporary restraint, and how long it lasts depends on how strong your enemy is. It works on both the living and the dead, but you can only use it once."

  "How do I use it?" I asked shakily.

  "That's the hard part." Hadrian squeezed my knees as if he already knew I'd need the comfort of his touch for his next words. "You need to let the entity get close to you—-"

  I gulped.

  "To do this." He took the coin from my hand and placed it over my eye, which in worst-case scenario, meant I'd have to do the same thing...to a ghost.

  Shit.

  I took the coin from his hand and pocketed it. "Does it really have to be an eye?" I asked unhappily.

  "Charon's rules."

  "The ferryman?"

  "I'm impressed that you know him," Hadrian murmured.

  "Hercules trivia."

  "Or maybe not."

  A moment later, and we were smiling each other.

  "I like this," I said softly.

  "This?"

  "Us."

  Another moment passed, and I found myself wetting my lips, and his gaze started to smolder. Another moment...and we both ceased to think.

  In a blink of an eye, our positions had reversed, and I hadn't even any idea how it happened. He was the one on the couch now, and I was straddling his lap. He got as far as unzipping himself and I managed to get my underwear down one leg. And then he was thrusting in, and I was pushing myself down.

  I moaned.

  He growled.

  But the pleasure only kept building, and the pressure inside my body just kept tightening. Our bodies were practically grinding against each other now, and I could only shudder and clutch his head when he took one pink straining bud into his mouth. He sucked hard while his fingers tightly gripped my hips.