Antoinette favored him with a smile. "Thank you for asking. It shows initiative, Martin. I will be taking in dinner and a movie with my daughter. If you need me, simply whisper my name and I will summon you. Your loyalty will not go unrewarded."
Martin nodded and left the room, his form engaged in a smoky quiver. He headed to Sara's old bedroom.
The minute Martin passed through the bedroom door, Sara whispered, "So what's she up to tonight?"
Martin rolled his eyes. "No sweat, she's going out with your mother. We can hit the spell book when they leave."
An air of uncertainty passed from Ruth to Martin. "Blessyerconnivin'nature, what're y'not tellin' us dear?"
"Nothing. She just said that if I needed her, I just have to whisper her name and she'd summon me. That's all. So nobody should whisper her name."
"Why? What made her say that?" Sara's lids dropped.
Martin squirmed. "Well I had to say something. I asked her where she'd be in case you got all stupid again."
"What the hell?" Sara said.
Martin got all huffy. "Hey, I'm the one that stuck his neck out. I had to make it believable."
"Y'know, dear, I'd like t'remind y'we need Sara, we do. Y'want t'pass on, don't cha? Only way t'do that, Martin, is t'send Bartholomew back t' 'ell. And we can't do that, dear, not without Sara."
Chapter Twenty-four
"I said it right the first time, Ruth! It's still not working," Sara ground out, hovering over the spell book on the bed in the guest room.
"Well, y'mouthed the summonin' spell quite well, y'did, but I'm thinkin' y'need t'put a little more feelin' in t' it, ya do."
"Feeling? Gimme a break. Look, I've spit out this stupid chant three times. No dead guy. Maybe I'm not a necro-whatever."
"Ya think?" Martin said. "Give it up, Ruth. The kid doesn't have what it takes."
Ruth paid Martin no mind. "Sara, y'don't have t'be a necromancer t'summon a ghost, dear. And since yer family's book clearly explains the necromancer gift passes with the first sexual encounter, and only if said sexual encounter is after the year o'eighteen, I'm thinkin' this summonin'll purely 'ave t'do with yer ghostly skills, it will."
"Which she clearly does NOT have," Martin huffed.
Sara blew out her cheeks and then ground her teeth. "Are you sure his name is Philly Sheeo?"
Martin turned bright pink and fidgeted with the only garment on his body—his undies. He ran a hand up his bare chest, over his neck, across his face, and flipped his blond bangs out of his eyes.
"Martin, I know that look," Ruth warned.
"Well, that's how he introduced himself. He walked up, licked his lips, and said, 'Philly Sheeo,' then smiled and added, 'and you?' I stuck out my hand and the rest is history."
"Oh-my-God, you did sooo not just go there?" Sara whipped across the bed so fast the pages of the spell book flapped in her wake. "And I totally missed it and used that stupid name three times! You shit! I bet you think that's funny as hell." She tried to slap Martin but her hand only buggered up the shape of his shoulder.
Martin brushed at his tightie-whities like he had no idea what Sara was talking about.
Ruth's head bounced from one to the other. "I'm thinkin' I'm missin' somethin', I am. Would one o'y'like t'enlighten me?"
"NO!" they both shouted.
Sara, her hands fanning the pages of the book, addressed Martin. "Give up the name, missy!"
"Why can't we just call your dead guy?" Martin glared at Ruth, hand on hip. "I don't want to see that horrid vamp again, ghost or no ghost! What if he's mad at me? What if he—he was very strong, Ruth, and-"
Ruth shook her head. "I've told ya, Martin, mine was just a boy, 'e was, and yers did 'ave some supernatural powers, 'e did."
Martin dropped his incisors. "So! I do too! How's that worked for ya?"
"Will one of you give me a name?" Sara snapped.
"Fine!" Martin whined. "But when he gets here, if he tries anything, I'm whispering the name of you know who!" Martin shot Ruth a timid look, flapped his arms, shook his hips and shrilly mewed, "His name is Terrence Hoyt!"
Sara chanted the spell and, this time, when she said Terrence Hoyt's name, the air crackled and a tall man holding a head with black hair and full red lips appeared in the center of the circle. The head was disconnected from his torso, which was completely naked. Dark curly chest hair ran a path to his blatantly displayed sexuality and muscular legs led to bare feet that hovered just above the wood floor.
Martin floated backwards and cowered in a corner of the room, making little whimpering sounds.
Sara clapped her hands and jumped up and down. "I so totally did it! Who's bad? I'm bad!"
"Why, 'is 'ead seems t'be animated, it does," Ruth said, "An', my goodness, will ya look at the size o' 'is manhood. Why I never-"
"Nip it, Ruth," Sara said, shaking her head with disinterest.
Terrence's eyes glanced around the room with a curious expression on the head's face. "Why am I here?" the head asked.
Martin yelped a wobbly scream like a teen actress on the set of Wes Craven's 'Scream'.
Sara rolled her eyes at him. "He can't get out of the circle, dummy."
Martin's eyes were big and his teeth were silently chattering.
"Are y'a vampire, dear?" Ruth asked.
Martin squealed and made himself smaller.
"Not anymore," Terrence said, passing a hand through his body, while the other held the talking head like a football. "I'm a ghost."
Martin gasped.
Sara hovered closer. Ruth put herself in front of Sara and shot Martin a warning glance.
"Do y'know a seer-ghost named Bartholomew?" Ruth asked Terrence.
"No," Terrence's head said, while his frame shifted his weightless body from one leg to the other.
"Are y'sure, dear? Because 'e's the one that 'ad y'killed, 'e is."
Martin let out an effeminate squeak.
"I don't know any seer-ghosts; a doppelganger killed me," Terrence said, a confused look on the face held in front of his translucent stomach. "And as far as I know, doppelgangers have many names."
"Doppelganger, dear?"
Martin straightened up, his eyes visibly wide behind the transparent hand covering his face.
Terrence's eyes glanced in Martin's direction and his hands shook the head from side to side, then turned the face toward Ruth, and continued, "Yes, a doppelganger. I watched him shed his human guise as he choked me and then he proceeded to tell me what he was and that he was taking possession of my body, and, well, life. The last thing I remember is an ugly face with bulging eyes and gray skin wafting through my open mouth as I gasped for breath. Then I was... like this." Terrence's eyeballs bounced his forehead upward toward his chest.
Martin suddenly became animated. "You say a doppelganger killed you? What a shame. I hear they're quite ghastly," he said, hands flying, head shaking empathy.
"He was terrifying." The hands tightened their grip, blending into the ears on Terrence's head. "I thought I was immortal, but..." The eyes closed between two thumbs pressing the temples of the head, while his body shuddered. "So why am I here?"
"Blessyerravagedbody, I don't suppose y'know how t' contact said doppelganger, do ya, dear?"
"Oh, hell no!" Martin yelped.
"What's a doppelganger?" Sara asked.
"A horrid, human-body jumper!" Martin squawked. "Leaving a wake of death in its path!"
Ruth tisked. "And it'll do ya to remember, Gran's 'uman, dear." She tapped her lips. "I wonder why Bartholomew wanted the doppelganger t'shed Terrence's duplicate; 'e was evidently a threat t' 'im. And I suppose gettin' 'im t'move on t'another human by slittin' the throat o' 'is-"
"That's enough, Ruth," Martin warned.
"His duplicate! You mean there were two of them walking around?" Sara shouted.
Martin was quick to answer. "Sometimes they leave the double, which is totally unaware there is a mirror image of them walking around and talking to, even
having intimate relationships with, friends, family, business associates, whomever. But mostly the doppelganger kills the human twin, disposes of the body, and carries on until the second body is of no more use to them. It kills them! Do I make myself clear, Ruth?"
"Go on! Boy, we could sure use one of those guys," Sara said, flapping her hand and flipping the pages of the book rapidly.
"Y'ave made yerself clear, Martin, and Sara's right, she is. If we could contact this creature we can offer 'im Gran, we can. And since a doppelganger's not able t'take more than the shell o'the 'uman and walk around in a duplicate o'its skin without all the memories or abilities o'said 'uman, well..."
"If you summoned me to find him . . . " Terrence's opaque eyes fell on Ruth, " . . . well, with doppelgangers jumping from body to body, I have no idea how where he is."
"Y'sound like y'ave tried, dear?" Ruth queried.
"I have," Terrence said, "and to no avail, so may I be excused, please?"
Martin emptied his lungs of the air he was holding.
"So much for that idea," Sara said, "'cause I can't find any summon spells for a doppelganger."
"Bless'issoul, send Terrence on 'is way, Sara. I'm thinkin' we need t'rethink our plan, we do," Ruth said, silently clicking a fingernail through her front teeth.
"No more plans until I find out what Toni is doing with Paddy and Reggie," Sara said, "I still have a reputation to think about."
"Oh, come on out, girl. There's gold at the end of the rainbow," Martin quipped.
Sara tightened her jaw, and hissed through her teeth, "I am not a-"
"I'm thinkin'," Ruth interrupted, eyes on the book, "maybe that demon lord in the crypt knows a doppelganger we can talk t'."
"Are you crazy?" Sara barked.
"Not you, dear. Let's see if y'can send Martin."
"Oh, hell no!" Martin screeched.
***
Upstairs in her bedroom, Toni was getting ready for her date with Paul as she pulled out clothes and laid them on the bed.
"I can't wear these! What if I meet his father?" Toni said to a pair of white short-shorts and a revealing blue tank as she plucked them off the bed and returned them to her dresser drawer.
She walked to the closet while her eyes played over Sara's skinny jeans for the umpteenth time. "Crap!" She plucked them off the bed. "Might as well wear them—all I need a nice t-shirt or blouse."
She moved hangers, pulled at shirts, and finally settled on a short sleeved, green blouse that buttoned up the front and showed off the color of her eyes.
On the desk by her laptop, her cell phone started ringing.
Hurriedly placing the clothes on a hanger and hooking it over the doorknob on the closet, she ran to her cell phone.
Toni recognized Paddy's number, and flipped it open. "Hey, what's up? Did Jessica set a date for the party?"
"Yep, it's on Wednesday night. Can you make it?"
"Sure, that's the day after my birthday, and-" Toni said, and couldn't take it back. "I mean . . . well . . . not like that has anything to do with anything." She laughed.
"I heard Paul telling my mother he's gonna ask you to go out for your birthday," Paddy said. "He's at the mall; bet he's getting you something."
Toni blushed. "I hope not. I usually do something here with Mom. Are you sure he's gonna ask me out?" God, I'm shaking just from the thought. What is wrong with me?
"Yeah, and you'll break his heart if you say no," Paddy said.
Toni watched her head shake back and forth in the mirror over her dresser. I don't know if I want this or not. I want to be with him, but I want to be with the girls just as much. "What are you and Reggie doing Tuesday? I mean, I wanted to . . . I like hanging with you guys."
"I'm hearing some hidden meaning there," Paddy said as if choosing her words carefully. "What's up? You scared of Paul?"
"No. Well, yes. I really need to talk with you guys about something." Toni paused.
"You want me to come over?" Paddy asked.
Maybe this will be easier over the phone. "Paddy, I'm not sure if I'm attracted to guys or girls," Toni said in a rush. There I got it out. Pleeease, tell me you understand.
"Oo-kay . . . "
Say something! Toni turned bright red.
"What do you mean? Are you attracted to someone else?" Paddy said.
"Not exactly," Toni answered slowly. "I mean, I'm attracted to Paul, but . . . well, I . . . I notice . . . I feel . . . " I look at you guys with just as much curiosity. This is crazy.
"Do you think you feel . . . whatever, just because Sara... you know?" Paddy asked.
"I don't know. I mean, if she was gay, I could . . . I mean we're twins." Toni pulled her mouth into a tight line. "I feel funny . . . weird, when I look at girls or guys, and my stomach does stupid things. I'm so confused. Am I weird or something?"
"You sure you don't want me to come over?"
"Um, can we talk later? I'm going to your dad's bookstore with Paul tomorrow. Oh Paddy, I don't want to hurt him. Maybe I just need to figure this out for myself for a few days. Don't say anything to him okay?"
"Toni, I would never do that. I think you're just thinking about Sara. Give it a few days, and if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it. Reggie is really better at this than me. So if you want, we can all go to lunch on your birthday and talk about it . . . well . . . that is if you still want to."
"Thanks," Toni said, feeling very uncomfortable. "Maybe I shouldn't have laid this on you."
"Hey girl, you can say anything to us. No problems here. I won't even say anything to Reggie unless you want me to."
I am so lucky to have found this girl. "I appreciate that. Call you tomorrow?"
"I'll be here," Paddy said, "and I bet you have a good time tomorrow, with Paul."
"Yeah, I know. Maybe I'm just nervous. Every date I've had—all three of them—have ended in embarrassment." She took a deep breath. "Look, I'll call you tomorrow, Paddy," Toni said, and didn't even hear Paddy's words before hanging up. She stared at the cell in her hands. I am so-totally screwed up. I mean how many girls my age can't decide if they want to date?
Chapter Twenty-five
"Hello, Paul. How have you been doing?"
Paul sucked in half the air in his bedroom and jerked his head in the direction of Bartholomew's voice. "Where have you been? You're not messing with my sister, are you? Because I'm doing everything you asked."
Bartholomew hovered in front of the wall leading into Paddy's bedroom, a curt grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. "I kept my promise, Paul. I haven't touched your sister; although, she is annoying me, but that is another matter."
"What do you mean, annoying you? What have you been up to?" Paul ground out.
"I've been, well, spending some time with Toni and her family, gathering information, and I've met several friends who have an interest in my possession of Toni. We are all keeping an eye on you, Paul."
"I've been over there and I didn't see you," Paul said, "or anyone else keeping an eye on me."
Bartholomew smiled, his face wavering around an abundance of wrinkles. "Nonetheless, there are three ghosts following Toni, therefore you are very outnumbered, Paul."
"If I can see you, why can't I see them? You're just bullshitting me," Paul said, moving over to his desk and taking a seat in front of his computer.
"Have you ever seen a ghost other than me?"
"No, but that-"
"That's because I let you see me; I am a seer. Not all ghosts have that ability; but, more importantly, I now know what Toni is."
"If you have what you want, why are you here telling me all of this?"
"I still need you, Paul. I merely mentioned the ghosts because, when I'm not with you, they will be, and anything you say or do will be heard by them, and they will be reporting your actions."
"Why? What the hell do you need me for?" Paul lowered his shoulders.
"Ahh, well that brings me to another piece of information I have gathered. I may
know what Toni will become, but your services are needed to enable her. You see, I have also met a conspirator with a like interest in the gift I can give Toni when she inherits . . . well, the ability to . . . never mind, all you need to know is that you must have sex with her on her eighteenth birthday."
"Why?" Paul asked, his eyes falling on the wrapped gift on his dresser. "What will she inherit? And who is this person helping you?"
"That is none of your concern, but I do have something that should . . . relieve you of any sexual pressure when you consummate your relationship. I will not be there when it happens and neither will the other ghosts. In fact, I'm leaving you in the morning, but I will be back with a little reminder." Bartholomew's lips curled back in a smile. "Toni's birthday is Tuesday, and I expect you to spend Monday night with her. You will perform your duty after midnight—not before—then I will no longer need you and you can get on with your life, such as it is."
"I feel like I'm . . . I don't want it to happen like this, Bartholomew," Paul stammered. "I like her a lot, and she's-"
"I care not for your likes, nor your wants. And there is always my threat: your sister's death."
"Just stay away from my sister. I mean it, Bartholomew!"
"Not to worry, I will keep my part of the bargain. In answer to your question concerning your sister's annoying behavior, I do need you to have a little talk with Paddy. She's putting ideas in Toni's head that may make it difficult for you to seduce her."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Paul wanted to know.
"It seems Toni is unsure of her sexuality. I want you to educate her."
"What?" Paul shook his head.
"You heard me."
Paul stood completely silent, his jaw hanging two inches from his chest.
***
In the guestroom at the Farrell house, Martin was beside himself. "This is such a bad idea. Think about it, Sara. If you do this, your grandmother could be killed. Do you really want that?"
Sara lifted her eyes from the spell book and glanced at Ruth. "Could this thing really kill her?"
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