Ghosts Of Lovers Past

by Bethany Sefchick

  “Justin doesn’t have that problem,” Josh assured her. “Like I said, he gets mad, but not like that.”

  Nodding, she sighed and crossed to look out the window where the summer sun glistened on the water of the small pond. It was as blue as the sky above and just as calm. When she’d been alive, she’d loved to swing open the French doors and allow the sounds of nature into the house. Sometimes, she’d even go outside and sit by the water, wait for James to find her so they could make love in the cool grass.

  She was startled out of her thoughts by the weight of Josh’s hand on her arm. “He’s a good man, Rose. He might not be exactly like James, but I do know this – at the core, they’re basically the same person and he loves you. Deeply.”

  “I know.” Deep inside her own heart, Rose did know. If nothing else, this morning had proven that. A man could not love a woman and still do the things Justin had done to her.

  Sighing, Josh moved back to the desk and scooped up a handful of papers. “I have to get back to town and turn these over to the rest of the staff. Justin should be back soon.”

  Papers in hand, Josh ambled towards the door. Before he opened it, he turned and glanced back at Rose. “I know you’re conflicted about something, and I think I have a pretty good idea about what. It’s written all over your aura. Just know that you need to trust your heart. It won’t steer you wrong. Mine never has.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, Josh was gone and Rose was alone in the library. Carefully, she moved the chair Josh had just occupied so that she could sit and stare out the window at the sun-dappled pond.

  This was what her existence had been up until now, sitting and looking through windows as life raced by beyond the panes of glass. Days and seasons came and went, as did residents in the house. The small nest of bunnies she’d watched from the window while alive had long since died, but not before having families of their own, offspring that even now continued to live in the thick garden covering outside the window. Even the rabbits’ lives moved on, but not hers. Instead, she was locked in time, not moving forward or back. More than ever, she wanted out.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Rosie girl.” Her grandfather’s voice behind her no longer startled her as it had when she’d first awoken.

  “Do you?” she asked, still replaying her conversation with Josh and praying her grandfather wouldn’t bring up the earlier incident with Justin. She’d hoped for some quiet time alone, but she knew that once her grandfather appeared, she’d never get that now.

  Ben gave a small noise of disgust as his spirit materialized beside her. “Of course I do! You’re feeling unsettled with all of these people traipsing through the house. You’re used to quiet.” He paused. “I can make them go away, Rosie. If you want.”

  “No.” She didn’t yell, as Rose never really became angry, but she wanted it clear to her grandfather that she wanted the Ghosts, Inc. staff to stay. “I want them here. I want out of this house and they are the only ones who can help me.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked. “Rosie, honey, once you’re free of whatever is keeping you here, then what?”

  She turned to glare at the old ghost she truly did love with all of her heart. “Then I move on. Maybe with Justin and maybe to the Other Side. Does it really matter, as long as I am free?”

  “What if it’s not that simple?” he asked and Rose turned her head away, refusing to answer his question. In response, Ben simply floated around to face her again. “What if you don’t get to keep Justin? What if you can no longer stay in this house? Where would you go?”

  Those were questions Rose hadn’t stopped to consider and didn’t really want to. “It doesn’t matter,” she said flatly, her ire up as much as it ever got. “At least I won’t be stuck here anymore. That’s the important thing. It idea of an eternity here isn’t one I can stomach any longer.”

  Ben didn’t seem to know what to say to that so he instead drifted over to the window Rose had been looking out moments before. Standing up herself, Rose drifted over to where he was, allowing the ghostly part of her free reign.

  “Grandpa, I have to do something.” She tried to hold back the tears that now pressed behind her eyes. That was another thing she was tired of – crying. “I can’t exist like this anymore.” Then she confessed the one secret that she knew would shake him to his very core. “I’m tired.”

  He whirled on her, fear on his face. “Don’t say that, Rose! You can’t be tired! You know what that means!”

  She nodded but she also knew she couldn’t keep this to herself any longer. This feeling had been growing inside of her for quite some time and she’d been keeping it a secret, not wanting to alarm Ben. Now, though, she knew she had to tell him the truth.

  “That if I get too tired, I’ll disappear forever, trapped in this house and unable to communicate.” Rose picked at a loose thread on her blouse while avoiding her grandfather’s worried eyes. “I know. But that’s what I feel. I’ve felt it ever since that woman tried to enter this house.”

  Ben sighed. “Then it’s time, I suppose.”

  “Time for what, exactly?” Rose frowned. “Do I not understand something?”

  Still staring forward, her grandfather refused to meet her eyes. “Time to see if I can help you find a way out.”

  For the first time since she’d died, Rose wanted to feel anger, real anger, but it wouldn’t come. Still, she felt something well up inside of her, as if trying to get out. “You mean you could have helped me before and didn’t?”

  Ben shrugged. “Maybe.” When she went to speak, he held up his hand. “I’m a selfish man, Rosie. I always have been. This ‘job’ I have as an Intermediary? It’s punishment for what I did in life. My one joy was that you were here too, stuck in this middle with me. It made everything bearable.”

  “You mean you could have helped me move on, but didn’t?” Rose felt frustrated and wanted to lash out at something or someone, but wasn’t able.

  Pulling off his hat, Ben twisted it in his hands. “Not exactly. I still don’t know how to help you, Rose. I just know where we might be able to start looking for an answer.”

  “And you never mentioned this before, Grandfather?” Rose knew her tone was stern, but she didn’t care.

  Ben shrugged. “There was never anyone that I felt was capable of helping you. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, only to see you hurt when it failed.”

  “And now?” She honestly wanted to know what had changed and prayed that he would tell her.

  “Now,” he admitted, “I think the time is right. I didn’t before, thought Justin and his crowd were the same as some of the others that have been through here looking for you. That’s why I didn’t want you talking to them. Besides, James wasn’t in any of those groups that came before.”

  Crossing her arms over her breasts as she had seen Josh do earlier, she studied Ben. “But now you believe Justin is James reincarnated?”

  Ben nodded. “He is. I can feel it in my bones. He’s different than the man you married, but the same core, to be sure. I have no reason to doubt. Plus, you’re tired. In spirit terms, that means this is your chance. He’s the one meant to help you move on, even if that means I lose you.”

  Rose pulled her grandfather into a fierce hug. “You won’t lose me. I promise.”

  “Ah, Rosie girl, you can’t promise that. No one can.” He shook his head sadly and she could see tears pricking at his eyes. “I know you want to, but we have no idea how this will end.”

  She pulled back and looked into the silvery eyes she’d come to know so well. A feeling of love welled up inside her and she allowed it free reign, not bothering to tamp it down. “I know. You’ll always have me, no matter what. But if this is my chance, I have to take it.”

  “Your young man will be back later,” he said. It was, Rose knew, her grandfather’s way of agreeing with her without having to say the words. “Before you to get up to whatever it is you want to do this eveni
ng, send him to me. I’ll tell him where to look for something that might help you.”

  “Thank you!” Rose threw her arms around her grandfather again. She knew how much this was costing him, but she also knew that she was right. Ben would be a part of her existence forever. She felt that as strongly as she’d ever felt anything.

  Chapter Eleven

  As Justin sat waiting in Reed’s lab, he gently massaged his head, which still hurt from his fall down the stairs earlier that morning. The visions and passing out were getting very tiring very quickly and he wondered if there was anything Reed could give him, perhaps a potion or some kind of protection amulet that would help. Then he thought better of it. The visions, painful and embarrassing as they were, contained the clues to his past and possibly a way to free Rose. He didn’t want to risk them ending before this case was resolved.

  Beside him, Callie lay stretched out on a Victorian-style fainting couch, an IV in her arm. She appeared to be asleep, but Justin knew she was just resting, his memories still swirling in her mind, overpowering her own. Above them, Justin could hear a dull thumping noise where the ghost of Dalton Bright, the building’s former owner, tried in vain to penetrate whatever spell or force field prevented him from entering the basement area where the lab was located.

  The ghost had recently taken an unnatural interest in Callie, much to both her and Reed’s dismay and annoyance. Generally, the Imperitas was enough to keep the pesky ghost from bothering them but when Dalton had learned that Callie had potentially been injured, the ghost had been insistent that he be allowed to see her.

  Between Reed’s single-minded unwillingness to allow Dalton anywhere near the unconscious Callie and Elliott’s flat-out refusal to have the ghost invading his infirmary, Mia had instructed that Callie be treated in Reed’s secure lab until a spell could be conjured or cast to keep the nosey ghost in check.

  After Callie had been settled in the lab, Justin had joined them and allowed himself to be examined by Elliott, who had pronounced the investigator more or less healthy. Though there weren’t any signs of a concussion, Elliott had noted that Justin’s energy levels were severely depleted, though he also chalked that up to the possibility of hanging out with a ghost for the last two days.

  Other than prescribing some vitamins, the only other thing Elliott could do was warn Justin against being around Rose so much. He also reminded Justin that ghosts were believed to deplete a person’s energy, though he knew that Justin wouldn’t listen. After Reed had returned with the unconscious Callie and told the story of Justin’s latest fainting spell, it had been clear to pretty much the entire staff that Justin was heavily involved, not just with the case but with the pretty ghost as well.

  Justin looked up as the door to Reed’s inner lab closed with a loud bang. The chemist stored all of his dangerous chemicals behind the reinforced door so that, should an accident occur, the rest of the staff wouldn’t be in danger.

  “I have the containment powder just about done,” Reed said as he wiped his hands on the side of his lab coat that had, at least in the morning, been pristinely white. “Once it’s done hardening, I can grind down the rock into powder and we can spread it around the building. It won’t keep Dalton contained forever, but it will do the trick until this case is over and we can deal with him another way.”

  Elliott, who had been sitting in the corner monitoring Callie’s vital signs, gave a snort of disgust. “I don’t know why Mia won’t just let us exorcise him. He’s a pest.” It was well known among the staff, not to mention the paranormal world in general, that Elliott had very little tolerance for annoying and potentially dangerous paranormal creatures, though only a few people knew why. Justin, however, didn’t count himself among that select group.

  Reed sighed in agreement. “I know, but he could be a valuable pest. At least that’s her logic.” His lips pressed into a thin line and Justin knew what the other man was thinking. If Dalton were gone, Callie would be safe, or at the very least, free to wander around the building. The chemist didn’t like the ghost one bit and wanted nothing more than to banish him into some unmentionable realm – if only their boss would allow it.

  Justin watched Reed carefully hang up his coat and then kneel beside the couch where Callie lay, her eyes still closed. Dark, bruise-like patches marred the pale skin near her temples and beneath her eyes. Her cheeks seemed hollow, almost sunken and Justin wondered just how strong the woman was. He also wondered if the Imperitas was hurting her more than helping. She’d worn it for nearly six months and he’d thought that by now she’d have been able to remove it. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

  “Callie, wake up,” Reed whispered as he smoothed back a lock of her golden hair. When she didn’t stir, Reed tried again. “Callie, please open your eyes for me. Please.”

  Finally, Justin could see the woman’s eyelids flutter and finally open. Instead of the brilliant turquoise blue he was accustomed to seeing, Callie’s eyes were still the same swirling mass of colors they had been back at Rosewood House, indicating that his memories were still trapped inside her head.

  Pushing himself out of the plush chair he’d been slumped in, Justin moved to the other side of the couch, opposite Reed. With Callie clearly unable to function on her own, Justin knew that the chemist was going to have to use his shared mental link with the beautiful Mimic to pry the memories free.

  For the first time, Justin worried that keeping his memories locked inside her head for so long might truly harm her. He didn’t want that. Looking at Reed, he saw concern in the other man’s eyes and knew he had good reason to be worried.

  “Is everyone ready?” That came from Elliott, who, like the good doctor he was, had his laptop open in front of him, ready to monitor all of Callie’s vitals as the transfer progressed.

  “I think so,” Justin said, though he really wasn’t sure. Then again, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. What did one more thing matter?

  Elliott tapped some keys on the keyboard and then looked up, concern marring his features. “Even if you’re not ready, you have to be. Her brain activity is dropping. I’m concerned that the Imperitas is preventing her abilities from functioning as they should. She might not be able to keep your memories for as long as she normally would.”

  “Then we do the transfer now.” Reed clearly wasn’t ready to take a chance with the woman he secretly loved. Justin could understand. He wondered how he would feel if Rose were in Callie’s position and he in Reed’s.

  Nodding, Justin reached down and grasped one of Callie’s hands, holding it tightly to his temple. Reed took Callie’s other hand and grasped it firmly, then closed his eyes. Justin quickly followed suit.

  Almost immediately, Justin saw colors begin to flash and swirl behind his eyelids. He saw glimpses of what he suspected were Reed’s and Callie’s lives, including images of a woman who looked strikingly similar to Callie, but clearly wasn’t her. Justin knew those were images he wasn’t meant to see, but it couldn’t be helped. With Callie not in complete control of her abilities, the mental bleed-over was inevitable

  Suddenly it felt as if a small herd of elephants was trampling through Justin’s brain. He wanted to cry out and yank his hand away from Callie’s, which was clearly the source of the pain. However a firm, steadying hand held him in place. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew it had to be Elliott. He was preventing Justin from running away and possibly hurting the woman he was mentally linked with in the process.

  The pain was almost unbearable and then suddenly, just as abruptly as it had begun, it stopped.

  “Open your eyes, Justin,” Elliott instructed and Justin felt compelled to obey. When he did, his vision fogged and he was almost instantly sick to his stomach. What sounded like jungle drums echoed through his skull. Quickly, he snapped his eyes shut again.

  Over the last day or so, Justin had become used to James Morgan’s memories being mixed in with his own. Now, however, two more lives flashed in front of his eyes as his brain p
rocessed the large mental data dump that had just occurred.

  “Steady, Justin. Steady.” To Justin’s ears it sounded as if Elliott were speaking through at least a hundred pillows, the words muffled and distorted.

  “Take your time and open your eyes. Slowly this time.” Elliott’s voice was a little clearer now and the drumming noises had subsided a bit.

  This time when Justin opened his eyes, the world didn’t seem to tilt quite as crazily, though he did still have the urge to be sick. Swallowing hard, he allowed his vision to clear a bit, and then opened his eyes a little more. Finally, when he was able to open them completely, the sick feeling subsided and the drums receded into almost nothing.

  “That was different,” he finally managed and carefully turned to look at Reed and Callie, not wanting the head pounding drumming to start back up again.

  Callie was still lying on the couch, her breathing shallow and rapid. Her lips had an unnatural blue tint that Justin didn’t particularly like. Elliott was pushing some kind of liquid into her IV through a syringe and Reed was cradling the now completely unconscious woman in his arms, whispering softly to her and stroking her hair.

  “Keep an eye on her for a few minutes while I get Justin upstairs,” Elliott instructed Reed, though Justin really thought that was unnecessary. It was unlikely that the chemist would budge from her side anytime soon.

  Elliott helped Justin up from the side of the fainting couch and led him to the door. With one last backward glance, Justin saw Reed press a kiss to Callie’s forehead. For Justin, it stirred an ache deep inside of him, an ache to hold Rose in a similar way, to feel the weight of her body in his arms. He felt his own body go weightless and his mind began to drift, up and away from Reed’s messy lab. He saw a dingy southern city and a harsh, cold hard coal mine in his mind. He didn’t particularly care for those images.

  They were stark and ugly and Rose wasn’t in any of those memories, if that was indeed what they were. He preferred the lighter memories buried in the deeper part of his brain. He heard a noise, as if someone was asking him if he was okay, which he found ridiculously funny. Why wouldn’t he be? He was with Rose on a golden, sunlit summer day at Rosewood House.