by Jada Turner
She opened her eyes to see his worried face hovering over her own. There was relief in his eyes as he kissed her mouth.
“What happened?” she asked.
“You fell into a swoon.” There was a sadness in his eyes.
“A swoon? You mean I fainted?”
He nodded.
“I guess you've learned a lot in 700 years.”
“No, that is one thing I never studied due to my vow. My wife...she fell into a swoon every time we made love. I believe that is why she left me for my friend.”
“You mean, this always happens when you make love to a woman?”
“Well, my wife never screamed nor thrashed about. She simply fell senseless beneath me.”
“I was right. She was a fool.”
“I have pleasured you then?”
She gave him an emphatic nod. “Oh, yes!”
“Will you answer a question for me?”
“Sure.”
“It has been quite some time since I have made love. Would you...like to do it again?”
Shayne smiled and pulled him into another kiss.
The afternoon sun filled the room with orange ambiance as she lay in his arms. His fingers stroked her shoulder in lazy circles. They had been content in their quiet and Shayne regretted breaking it.
“I'll go to Charles Lyle's office tomorrow,” she said. “I think he will agree to my offer.”
“I fear that no amount of wealth will convince him to sell this abode,” Ren replied. “He is a proud man. His pride means more to him than money.”
“We'll see. If he won't sell, perhaps you could come and be with me.”
Ren shook his head. “That would be impossible. I can leave this house for only a few months at a time. Were I to leave for a longer period, I would cease to be.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “Are you one of those ghosts?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you kill someone?”
“No.”
“Did someone kill you?”
Ren nodded.
“Your best friend?”
“To be clear, he did not mean to kill me. I forced him to draw his sword and when I attacked him, I fell upon it.”
“Oh, boy! You are anchored here. It would be different if you died of a disease or by your own hand. You could wander wherever you liked. Victims of murder are pretty much trapped.”
“Then we are at an impasse.”
Shayne tapped her bottom lip with her left forefinger. “Maybe, not.”
4
The offices of Charles Lyle, plastic surgeon, were located in Boise, Idaho. They were opulent, well-furnished and well carpeted. Pictures of the smiling doctor adorned several walls and Shayne stared at one of them as she sat in the waiting room. Dr. Lyle had a very large mouth filled with straight, white teeth. She disliked him immediately.
The wait was an arduous one. Lyle seemed to be consulting with the entire city. Shayne's fifteen minute wait turned into nearly two hours. When she finally entered the inner sanctum, it was well past four o'clock.
Lyle smiled at her from across his desk. He motioned toward a chair and she seated herself before him.
“I thought we weren't going to meet,” he began. “Though I am glad that we are.” His glance lingered on her cleavage.
“I had to make an exception. I've run into a bit of a snag.”
“What kind of snag?”
“I can't get rid of him.” she said, leaning back in the chair.
“What do you mean? You said your services were one-hundred-percent effective. Do you mean that everything you have tried has failed?”
“I'm afraid so. He just keeps coming back.”
“Can't you just exorcise him or something?”
“If you want the house to remain standing, I would advise against it.”
“I've paid you good money and you tell me you've failed? This is unacceptable, Ms. Jacobs! Are you trying to get more money out of me?”
“On the contrary, Mr.--”
“Doctor.”
“Excuse me, Doctor, I will return your money and then some. I would like to purchase--”
A knock sounded on the door at that moment and Lyle's secretary entered the room.
“I'm sorry, sir, but there is a man outside who says he must see you immediately. He said that if you saw his card, you would understand.”
Lyle frowned and took the card. His expression suddenly brightened as he read it.
“Go ahead and show him in, Lola,” he said. “Please stay here Ms. Jacobs. I'll finish our conversation after I've seen this gentleman.”
Shayne turned and watched the door as the secretary exited. She returned with a tall, distinguished man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. He exchanged amenities with Lyle and then took the chair beside Shayne. His smile was contagious, but Shayne remained unaffected.
“I have heard of your troubles, Dr. Lyle,” the man said. “News travels fast in my circles. I hear you need an exorcist.”
Shayne turned to face the man, her eyes wide.
“I am having trouble with a particularly restless spirit,” Lyle said. “Ms. Jacobs here, was supposed to get rid of him for me, but she has failed. She says that an exorcism will destroy the house he is haunting.”
Smythe laughed. “That's impossible! Sure, there will be some damage from the ectoplasm and such, but destroy it? I think Ms. Jacobs is pulling your leg!”
“Now listen here, Mr. Smythe!” Shayne said, leaning toward him. “I've been working in this business for at least fifteen years and I have never heard of you. You don't seem to understand the danger. This isn't a demon you are dealing with. It is a spirit, one who was murdered and is inextricably linked to the home. If you exorcise him, he will take the house with him.”
“That is ridiculous,” Smythe replied. “That myth was disproved several years ago by Dr. Hans Eckler, my mentor.”
Shayne faltered at the name. “You studied under Hans Eckler?”
“I was his assistant. When he retired, I took over.”
Shayne fell back against the chair. The name of the premiere exorcist rendered her speechless.
“I think that solves my problem,” Lyle said. His smile was triumphant. “Ms. Jacobs, will you please return the retainer I gave you? I need it by Monday.”
Shayne nodded. She appeared to be numb.
“You may leave now.”
Shayne rose ignoring Smythe's smile as she hurried from the room.
5
Ren was waiting for her when she entered the house. She did not speak as he took her in his arms. She clutched at him and then pulled away.
“Ren, do you trust me?”
The ghost did not hesitate. “Yes.”
“Lyle hired an exorcist,” she said. “But, I think I can stop him, with your help. But, I need you to do exactly as I ask, and I need you to be invisible to everyone, no matter what may happen.”
“I will do my best, my lady Shayne.”
“Good,” she looked away. “I have to tell you something and I'm afraid.”
He pulled her back into his arms. “Fear not, my love.”
She threw her arms about his neck and buried her face in his chest. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Words trembled there.
“I love you, Ren.”
He squeezed her and whispered into her hair, “My good lady.”
When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “That's just it, Ren. I'm not a very good person at all.”
“Shh.” he said. “Speak not of such things.”
“I haven't told you everything.”
“The past is past.” He changed the subject. “Tell me, how much time do we have before they come?”
“They could come at any time.”
As though on cue, the sound of a vehicle met their ears. Shayne peered out of the window and watched as a silver Ferrari pulled into the driveway. Lyle and Smythe got out.
“They're coming!” she said turn
ing toward the front door. “Remember, stay invisible.”
Ren caught her by the hand and pulled her back.
“Whatever happens, my lady Shayne, know this: I am entirely devoted to you.” He kissed her hand.
She smiled. “I hope you still will be, after this is over.” She hurried away.
Dr. Lyle was frowning when Shayne opened the door. She smiled broadly, happy to cause him any discomfort she could. Smythe stood at Lyle's side, a leather satchel in his hand. There was a twinkle in his eyes and that same contagious smile on his lips.
“What are you doing here?” Lyle snapped.
“Collecting my equipment,” Shayne responded. “I hope you don't mind.”
Lyle ignored the sarcasm in her voice and pushed past her. Smythe followed suit.
“My grandfather had this home moved stone by stone from England in the mid 1920's,” Lyle explained as he entered the foyer. “He bought it from a bankrupt earl, some fellow who spent most of his time at the races.”
“Which room does the ghost spend the most time in?” Smythe asked.
“The master bedroom.”
“You told me he stayed in the study,” Shayne interjected.
“He stays in both places,” Lyle replied.
Ren appeared at her side. Neither Lyle nor Smythe seemed to take notice of him.
“I was killed in the bedroom,” he confessed. “Apparently, Dr. Lyle doesn't appreciate my presence when he is seducing the ladies.”
“You didn't copy any of his technique, did you?” Shayne whispered.
“No,” the ghost replied. “My vow forbade me from such things. Besides, I would not emulate him even if he possessed a technique. I believe Dr. Lyle would find more pleasure if he could make love to himself.”
Shayne stifled a giggle.
They climbed the stairs and entered the bedroom. Smythe stepped in and began to rummage in the satchel. He pulled forth a small bottle of water, a silver cross and some garlic.
“He's a spirit, not a vampire,” Shayne said.
“All of the undead are subject to the power of these objects,” Smythe replied. “Of course, if you were a disciple of Dr. Eckler, you would already know this.”
“I do not like this knave,” Ren said in her ear.
Shayne smiled.
Smythe placed the garlic about his neck and began to pace the room with the cross raised before him. A low chant issued from him as he walked.
Iritspay! Iritspay! Ogay wayaay! Omecay gainaay notheraay ayday!
Shayne covered her mouth as a she shivered with silent laughter.
“That does not sound like Latin,” Ren observed.
“It's the kind that pigs speak, Love.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
Shayne's shivering became more pronounced.
Smythe continued his circuit of the room as Lyle's eyes grew wider and more serious. The exorcist stopped before the surgeon and picking up the bottle, splashed his pants. Shayne buried her face in Ren's shoulder.
“The spirit cannot touch you now,” Smythe proclaimed. He doused his own head with the contents of the bottle. “We are both safe from its anger.”
Ren's mouth dropped open. Shayne's face remained hidden.
“I will now rid the house of this troublesome ghost!” he continued. He walked toward Shayne.
Shayne looked up into the exorcist's eyes. She was not laughing now. Their stares locked. Shayne was the first to back down. Fear shone in her eyes.
“You are the true source of this haunting, Ms. Jacobs,” Smythe said in a low voice.
“No!” Shayne whispered.
“Tell me, Mr. Lyle--”
“Doctor Lyle.”
“Dr. Lyle, have you ever actually seen the ghost which haunts your home?”
Lyle paused, thinking. At last he answered. “No, not really. I've just seen evidence that he's been here. He has a dating profile on Elovers.com. Calls himself Ren Knight. And, I get this really creepy feeling that he's watching whenever I bring a girl in this room.”
“I do not watch!” Ren said vehemently.
“But, you don't really know whether your ghost is a man or a woman do you? I think your spirit is a woman and that she is jealous of your lovers. She wants you to herself and has created this false identity on Elovers.com in order to find a body to possess.”
“Ghosts can do that?”
“Indeed.”
“Why?”
“By possessing the body of a suitable woman, she could then meet you as a corporeal being. She could caress you, just as the women you bring to your bedroom have. Behold!”
Smythe suddenly lashed out at Shayne. Startled, she put her hands up to defend herself. Ren reached out to pull her away, but he wasn't fast enough.
Smythe's fist went right through her.
He pulled it out as Shayne began to flicker and shake. Ren looked upon her with wide eyes.
“You're a ghost!” Lyle gasped.
Shayne regained her form and lowered her eyes to the floor. Ren was staring at her.
“Please, remain invisible.” she said to him. Her whisper was barely audible. She looked into Lyle's eyes. “Yes, I am. And everything he said is true.”
Lyle stared at Shayne. He looked her up and down, his gaze pausing at her cleavage.
“Even when they're dead, they want me,” he said. His huge mouth split open into a self-satisfied grin. “I'm irresistible!”
Shayne tried to keep her eyes averted from Ren's. She was afraid of what she might find there.
“Please, allow me to stay.” she said. “I don't care if I can't touch you; I just want to be here.”
Lyle seemed to be considering her words. At last, he turned to Smythe.
“Get rid of her.”
“What?” Shayne cried. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to spell it out for me, babe.”
“I just told you that I love you and want to stay near you.”
“Is that what you said? Well, that's real nice but, I'm afraid it can never be. I don't stick my wick into dead things. Sorry, but I need you to get lost. You're cramping my style.”
The exorcist raised his cross to Shayne's eye level. “Nothing personal,” he said.
“This cannot be!” Ren boomed. Lyle and Smythe looked up in shock at the sound of his voice.
“Ren!” Shayne hissed.
“No! I cannot allow it! No one shall treat the woman I love in such a manner! Especially, the likes of a selfish cad and his hired thug.” He burst into being. Shayne gasped.
Ren was no longer the handsome spirit she knew and loved. He had transformed himself into the very incarnation of the living dead. Blood poured copiously from a great, raw wound in his chest. His eyes were cavernous sockets, his mouth twisted in a dreadful sneer. The foundations of the house began to quake beneath the room as he walked toward Charles Lyle.
Lyle whimpered like a child and fell at Ren's feet. A stone shook loose from the ceiling and crashed near his foot. He covered his head in supplication, his eyes averted from the phantom.
Shayne took Ren's lead. She transformed herself from the beautiful form of a woman into that of a hideous banshee. Her skeletal arms raked the air and an ear-splitting shriek split it. She too advanced upon Lyle.
“Get out!” Ren cried. “And never return!”
Lyle scrambled out the door. They heard his gibbering cries as he descended the stairs. The front door slammed behind him, and moments later, the Italian engine purred to life. They heard the tires squeal as it left the drive and receded into the distance. Ren turned his attention to Smythe.
“You!” he growled.
“Ren, no!” Shayne cried. She had once again adopted her original form. “Smythe is on our side!”
As quickly as he had changed, Ren now reverted to his handsome self. He stared in confusion at the exorcist. “But, he was about to send you away?”
“No, Love. Smythe is a friend and a very skill
ed con man. I called him in to help us.” She turned to face the con man. “By the way, you are a jerk! What were you doing back there? You almost had me on the floor a few times. I mean what was with the smiles and the Pig Latin? I almost blew the whole con!”
Smythe beamed. “Things have gotten real dull since you died, Shayne. I just wanted to spice things up a bit, see how much it would take to make you laugh.”
“I do not understand,” Ren said. “Why all the chicanery?”
“Well, I was going to try and take the blame for the haunting so that Lyle would want to keep me here. I had no idea that he had standards.”
“It seems my way was the more effective one.”
“It would seem that way.” Smythe agreed.
“I guess old habits die hard,” Shayne said. “When I was alive, I worked the con. I lived off of fooling people and using their greed. Smythe was my partner for a while.”
“Until she grew a conscience. One day she decides to up and quit. Says she's tired of hurting people. Next thing I know, she's terminal. Dies in the hospital.” He looked away, sobered by the words. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy with emotion. “Good to see you again, Kid.”
Shayne smiled. “I have something, Smythe. I've been saving it up for you. It's in a Swiss account and it's all yours. I think you should retire from the game.”
“I can't take that.”
“You can and you will. You're my only living relative.”
Smythe grinned. “We'll see, Kid.”
“You're also my good deed.”
“Alright,” he said quietly. “I guess this is goodbye.” He looked at Ren. “Take care of her, White Knight.”
“That is my intention.”
“This place got a phone? I think I'd better call a taxi.”
“In the study,” Ren said.
Smythe exited with a casual salute. Ren looked at Shayne. If she'd had a heart, it would have been in overdrive.
“So,” she said. “Now you know who and what I am. Are you alright with it?”