by Rose Pressey
Chapter Fifteen
A woman stood beside my bed.
She smiled wide, and then said with a sweet Southern drawl, “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Who the hell are you?” I asked.
I asked, but I knew who she was. Well, I didn’t know exactly, but I’d seen her before. This was the ghost who’d been in my room for the past two nights. She looked different now though. She had been see-through before, but now she looked like any other living person. She was a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. When I’d first seen her she wore a blue gown, but now she wore a tight green dress that hugged her voluptuous curves.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” I demanded, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice.
“You called me here, so why are you asking me?” she replied with slight disdain.
I placed the books on the table next to the door.
“What do you mean? I called you here. How could I call you here when I don’t even know who you are?”
She raised her arm up and pointed at the table where I’d just set the books.
“What?” I asked. “What are you trying to tell me? Why don’t you just come out with it already?”
“You don’t pick up on clues, do you?” she asked as she stared at me.
“No, I don’t suppose I do. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I’m talking to a ghost. You are a ghost, right? I saw you for the past two nights. Did I not?”
“Yes, that was me,” she said smugly.
Her cool demeanor irked me.
“So how did you get here?” I asked.
She pointed again. “I got here with the book. You called me here with the spell book.”
I glanced over at the book. The spells that I’d performed. How was that possible? Why had it happened?
“Was that you who made the pages turn?”
She shook her head. “I don’t control that book. You control that book. It’s your spell book. You’re the one who has all the power.”
“Power? What kind of power? I don’t know what you’re talking about. The book is not mine,” I said.
Annoyance hovered in her eyes. I was getting on her last nerve.
An expression of satisfaction showed across her face. “I was just a ghost in this manor, now you have released me.”
“Released you from what?”
“From the dead. I am alive again thanks to you.” She looked very much alive.
“How is that possible? I am a terrible spell caster. There is no way I could have done this. This doesn’t make any sense.”
She shrugged and sat on my bed. “Don’t ask me. All I know is I watched you when you performed the spell. Then little by little I came back from the dead.”
I rubbed my temples. Who would I call? I needed answers. How would I find out what was going on? I didn’t want to believe that I could bring the dead back with one little spell. But I couldn’t deny that it was a big coincidence that I’d performed the spells and then this woman showed up claiming to be a former ghost. What would I do to get rid of her? The last thing I needed was for anyone to find out what I’d done.
“I do hope you have a room for me? Although I could stay with one of the fine men who are currently occupying your other rooms.” She twisted a strand of her golden locks around her finger and batted her eyelashes.
Uh-oh, this could be a huge problem. She looked like trouble.
“You can’t stay here,” I said in a panic.
“Well, you can’t kick me out on the street,” she snapped. “You’re the reason I’m here. You have to let me stay until I can make other arrangements. I’ve been dead for a number of years and I don’t exactly have the resources to do anything else right now.”
I let out a deep breath. She did have a valid point. I couldn’t just kick her out. Well, I guessed I could kick her out, but I didn’t have the heart to do that to her.
“You have to tell me who you are at least.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest. I wanted to put together all the pieces, but she wasn’t helping.
She flashed her million-watt smile. “My name is Isabeau Scarrett. Pleased to meet you, Halloween.”
“It is very disturbing to know that you know everything about me.”
“Yes, I do know most things. Although I refrained from popping in the bathroom when you were in there.” She shivered.
“Thank you,” I said drily.
“I was a witch like you once. Well, let me rephrase that. I was a witch, but I was quite a bit better at it than you.” She grimaced in with mocking humor.
I rolled my eyes. “Thank you for insulting me.”
“It’s not insulting. It’s just stating the facts. I watched you try magic since you moved in. And it was not very good.” She shook her head.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Far away,” she said as she stood, then walked over to my closet. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow some of your clothing. Just until I can buy a new wardrobe.” She opened my closet door.
“I’m kind of particular about my clothing,” I said as I moved closer to the ghost, er, woman.
She looked at me incredulously, then shook her head. “Oh, dear. You really need to go on a shopping trip. There is nothing good in here.”
I placed my hand on my hip. “So now you’re insulting my clothing?”
The sound of footsteps caught our attention and we both looked at the door.
“It sounds like one of your guests is in the hallway.” She brushed around me and I hurried after her.
How would I explain her presence?
This couldn’t be happening, could it? I had to be dreaming. I reached out and poked the woman’s side with my index finger.
“Ouch. What did you do that for?” she asked with a scowl.
I pasted on a smile of nonchalance. “I wanted to make sure you were real. I figured I was dreaming.”
“I can assure you I am one hundred percent real.” Her coolness was evidence that she was not amused.
When I made it out into the hallway, Liam was turning the corner to go up the next flight of stairs.
“Hello there,” the former ghost called out.
Liam turned around to look at us. Why had he been on the second floor? Was he coming to my room? He froze when he spotted Isabeau. She sashayed over to him with a devilish smile on her face. She walked a complete circle around him, looking him up and down. Liam remained frozen, as if he didn’t know what to do or say. I’d never seen him this flustered.
“Hello, and what might your name be?” she asked with a devilish tone.
He stiffened as though she’d struck him. “Liam Rankin.”
She knew who he was. If she’d been hanging around the manor as a ghost, then she had to know him. She was just playing games. Did Liam recognize her as the ghost? Perhaps that was why he looked so confused. I couldn’t tell him that I’d brought her back from the grave.
“Are you a guest here at the manor?” Liam asked.
She looked at me, then back at him. “That depends. I will be if Halloween will be so kind as to find me a room.”
I’d put her in the worst room for using my full name. That was totally unnecessary. Plus, I didn’t like the way she was acting around Liam. A little subtlety went a long way, but obviously that was something she knew nothing about. She’d put me on the spot. I couldn’t say no now.
Liam stepped back from Isabeau as she moved closer. Isabeau was sexy and alluring and apparently wanted to make up for the years she’d spent in the grave.
“Come on, Isabeau. Let me show you to your room. You must be exhausted from your long travels.” I grabbed her arm.
Liam quirked a suspicious eyebrow, but didn’t say anything about my comment. I motioned for her to follow me and she reluctantly obeyed. I’d put her in the room across from mine so that I could keep my eye on her. There was no way I’d l
et her stay on the third floor.
“You call me Hallie, got it?” I whispered.
“Sure thing, Halloween. I mean, Hallie.”
I glared at her and she flashed an innocent smile. Kicking her out was sounding more and more like the better plan.
Isabeau followed me into the spacious room. I stood by the door as she walked into the middle of the space. Another large wood bed like the one in my room sat in the middle of the far wall. It was covered with rich burgundy comforter and many plush pillows. A velvet-covered chair was by the window with a small table, a perfect spot for reading. Enjoying a good book seemed to be the last thing on Isabeau’s mind though.
“Um, there are towels in the bathroom. And the bed has fresh linens.” I pointed at the bed.
This whole thing was so incredibly creepy.
“Are you going to tell me who you are and where you’re from?” I didn’t hide my impatience.
“I told you my name is Isabeau,” she said curtly
“I know that, but other than your name, that is all I know about you. It would be nice to have a few more facts,” I said.
“I’m from Enchantment Pointe and I died a number of years ago. Happy?” She smirked and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“That’s it?” I stared, speechless.
Was that all I could get from her? That wouldn’t cut it.
“What is a number of years ago? What are we talking here? Two, four, sixteen, one hundred?” I retorted tartly.
“A woman never reveals her age, does she?” Her mouth curved into an innocent smile.
Hmm. She had me there.
“Do you have family in the area?” I regarded her with curiosity, then noticed the change on her face.
I had her now. If she didn’t have family in the area then that meant she was probably so old that they had all died too.
She weighed the question, then answered, “My family wasn’t originally from Enchantment Pointe.”
I wouldn’t let her win this little game. She might have the high score at the moment, but I was at the top of my game. We stared at each other, wondering who would make the next move. Silence hung in the air until the doorbell chimed, echoing throughout the house. She’d been saved by the bell. I wouldn’t let her off the hook though.
“If you’ll excuse me. I’ll be right back.” I offered the sweetest smile I could muster.
She smiled. “Of course take your time.”
I stared for a second, then the bell rang again. I didn’t trust her alone, but I had to answer the door. I just hoped that Liam had locked his door. Isabeau was going to be nothing but trouble for me. I sensed it already.
I hurried down the hallway and made my way down the steps to the front door. Who could it be at my door? I prayed it wasn’t another strange guest. I wanted a successful business, but so far my guests had all been trouble, even Nicolas. I peeked out the little hole in the door, but didn’t recognize the man standing on the veranda. There was something strange about him. Maybe it was the smudged glass in the door, but he looked blurry.