Her mother matched the tempo of her new song to the compressions to help, and Mary added some rhythm with a small handmade drum she'd pulled from her bag. After thirty beats, she stopped to breathe into John's mouth, filling his lungs until his chest expanded, and then again. She waited a second, checking for signs of life, but there was nothing, so she began the cycle again.
It was more exhausting then she'd expected, and now she knew why this was considered a temporary measure until the ambulance came, but there was no ambulance coming to save the day, this time. Her shoulders ached from the chest compressions by the third set, and there was a sinking feeling inside as she slowly lost hope, but when she leaned down to pinch his nose and breathe into his mouth, she froze.
It wasn't Charles Bruebeker's body that she was seeing. It was John—his face, his lips, and his dark blue eyes that opened a second later. There was confusion in them, but then they found her and, slowly, the clarity returned. "April?" he whispered.
"John! It worked! You're alive again!" she squealed, throwing herself across his body to hug him. Their lips met and, suddenly, their mouths were locked in a deep and passionate kiss that wiped away all the fear. She lost herself in him and he clung to her with a new physical vitality. His hand roamed down her back to settle on her ass, gripping, and she—
"Ahem."
The singing and drumming had stopped at some point; April hadn't noticed, but she did notice the sound of her grandmother reminding them that they weren't the only ones in the room. She sat up hurriedly with a guilty flush.
"Well, it looks like all the parts work," Foshi said, clearly amused.
"I'd say so," Mary agreed with a sigh. "I'm sure you can try out the rest later. For now, how do you feel, John?" she asked curiously.
"I-I feel alive," he said in a tone of awe. "My heart is beating. And I—" He laughed with delight suddenly. "I breathe without even thinking about it!"
"Yes, that's how it works," Mary agreed. "Do you happen to feel the wetness running down your back? Maybe some pain?"
"Pain? It's been so long, I didn't even…yes! My head is aching," he said, sounding completely pleased about it.
"Yeah, that's because you're bleeding all over the place," Foshi said.
April gasped and pulled John forward to look. There was a puddle where his head had been, and the back of his hair was matted with blood. "Oh, no! He's hurt. I'll get the first aid kit!" she exclaimed as she jumped to her feet. She wasn't sure when he'd gotten the injury, either upstairs in the attic or while thrashing around tied, but it looked bad.
"Wait. Listen, you two," Mary said, catching their attention. "I'm not sure if you've realized this, but you're no longer John. You're this lawyer man now, and you're going to have to take over his life," she said.
"Oh, shit," April said.
"April," John growled. He'd loosened up on the swearing but she was in front of her elders and respect was due, especially since they'd just saved him.
"Sorry! But, John, I don't know anything about Charles, and neither do you. How are you going to pass for him?" she asked desperately.
"He's not," Mary interrupted.
"I'm not?" John asked, confused.
"He's not?" April echoed simultaneously.
"No, unfortunately, Charles, you've had a terrible head injury and you've lost all your memories. You're practically a whole different man now. I'm sure they'll explain at the hospital that things usually come back, eventually, but in your case, they won't. You'll have to give up your law practice and retire, of course. It will be very sad, but it will be mitigated by the fact that your new girlfriend will stick by your side. And she has a nice house you can live in," Mary explained firmly.
For a minute, neither of them got it, and then, suddenly, they did. John's mouth stretched into a wide grin and he let out a loud bark of laughter. April just looked relieved to have an easy fix to a huge problem, for a change.
"So, now would be a good time to call an ambulance," Foshi said with a sigh, shaking her head. "Really would rather he didn't bleed out, after all this work," she said mournfully.
April snorted, but a quick glance at the spreading crimson stain on the back of his shirt and she was heading for the kitchen phone at a run. The next few minutes were hectic. They worked out a reasonable explanation for the injuries as they cleaned up anything unusual. Her grandmother's supplies were packed up and the salt was swept away before the ambulance came. The smoking kettle was relegated to the kitchen and Mary opened the front door to let the sage clear out.
The minute John looked out and saw the late afternoon sun, he was demanding help to get him on his feet, and when the ambulance arrived, they found him sitting on the front stairs, staring at the sunset blissfully. He barely minded as they poked and prodded his injury.
"Concussion maybe. Gonna need stitches," one of the paramedics said to the other.
"When he woke up, he couldn't remember his name," April chimed in helpfully, so the memory loss was on the table from the start.
After that, there was no consultation. John was packed up and taken away. April promised to follow shortly in her own car.
"Thank you. Thank you both so much. I can't even tell you how grateful I am—we are. Because of you." She was shaking with relief, and there were tears streaming down her face as she embraced her grandmother and then leaned down to hug her mother in the wheelchair.
"If you want to repay me—" Mary said.
"Of course, anything!" April replied immediately.
"Stop hating your gifts. Come home and learn how to use them. I hope you finally understand now that we're not given them for no reason," Mary said firmly.
April blushed, dropping her eyes as she took a deep breath and let it out. "You're right. I should have, but once things are settled here, I promise I'll come and train with you," she said.
"Good," Foshi said. "It will be good to have you home for a while. Bring your ghost with you. I'll cook for him. After so many years of being dead, he'll need feeding up, and he'll starve on your cooking," she added smugly.
April groaned; she remembered thinking that one of the few good things about John being a ghost was he'd never expect her to cook. So much for that, she thought.
"Will you spend the night?" she asked. She was anxious to get going to the hospital, to be with John, but she didn't want to just leave them there like that.
"You have a mansion, of course, we're spending the night. How many bedrooms does this place have, anyway?" Foshi demanded.
"Too many. Ack, and all on the second floor. But the couch in the library is really comfortable and I think it folds out," she added quickly.
'You'd think they could have put one bed—"
Mary slapped her daughter lightly on the arm as she interrupted her, "Foshi! Let her go. Can't you see she's desperate to see how he is? Go, April. We'll be here when you get back," her grandmother said kindly.
"Thank you! I do need to go. He hasn't been out of the house in decades and I'm afraid to leave him alone. Just make yourself comfortable. Oh, and, um, ignore the other ghosts!" she said as she quickly ducked out the front door.
She heard Foshi's voice raised in outrage behind her, "There's more?"
Epilogue
The month they'd spent together, in some ways, had felt like a year, but there was so much they hadn't had time to learn about each other. On the way to the hospital, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of wonder at how things had turned out, but it was tinged with panic, too, because now she was truly committed, and that had never been her strong suit.
John had unlocked things in her that she hadn't even known existed and, now, there was this core of sensuality running through her that made her crave the touch of his lips and his hands all over her body. She could only imagine how much better it would be now that he had a real living, breathing body, but the sex was just a minor thing. With no pressure to perform, they no longer needed to rush through new experiences and could take their time disco
vering all these new feelings and sensations.
She did wonder what they'd lost with this transition. The vivid interactive dreams had been an ability he'd brought and not one of hers. She had true dreams, dreams about things that were going to happen, but nothing like he'd given her. But then, they had the whole world to play in now; there was no need to seek dreams for privacy, and she marked it as a small loss in comparison with everything she'd gained, including a new understanding of herself.
Her mother and grandmother would never understand this need to submit; they were both strong-willed independent women, but that didn't matter because she knew they'd accept it as her choice. John had already shown her that he could adapt and change to accept her more modern ways, while keeping the dominant strength that had attracted her to him in the first place.
It was almost like a storybook happy ending, except that this was the real world so there was still a heaping pile of problems left unsolved. For one thing, there was a dead body in her attic; they'd have to do something about that, soon. She'd rest easier when every trace of Harold Tiding was erased from her home.
Her home, the giant monstrosity of a mansion that would cost them a fortune to run—it could take years to release the game, and even then, who could say how much their share of the profits would be? Luckily, the bed-and-breakfast idea was still on the table. People loved haunted houses so getting guests shouldn't be a problem.
Of course, she'd have to clear out some of the more dangerous entities first, couldn't have them throwing vases at visitors, but she had a feeling they'd go easier now that the man who'd caused so much pain had passed over. She wondered how many of the ghosts in the house he was directly responsible for. She'd seen so much in Harold's memories but she needed time to sort them out. She was sure there were answers to a few mysteries in there. That, and there were things she hadn't understood and couldn't confirm, without digging into some very old records, like the connection between Charles and Harold and how the lawyer had found the hidden room.
And there would also be many details about Charles's life to wrap up before John could walk away from it. She knew nothing about the lawyer; he could even be married, and that would be awkward. But whatever it took for him to break away from the life his new body had led, they'd end up together.
During the next few days, while John stayed in the hospital, she learned the very first steps of how to use her powers. She suspected neither of them had much fun. Her grandmother was a hard taskmaster and she argued with Foshi constantly about what April needed to learn first. And John was being subjected to one test after another. All pointless, since there weren't really any lost memories, but he couldn't admit that.
Between one thing or another, it was nearly a week before her family left and they were finally alone together, but a lot had been accomplished in that time. John, it turned out, had no family and very few friends to deal with. Charles had apparently been a loner and that made things easier. He took a leave of absence from his law office, citing his accident and memory loss; after a few months, he'd make it permanent.
April had picked up a few basics and, with help, she'd been able to help the innocent child spirits in the house to cross over. Harold's body had also been removed from the house. Because of the obvious age of the corpse, the investigation should wrap up quickly, once the body was autopsied. She doubted they'd even make any attempt to find out who he was, but she'd voiced the opinion that he was the original owner and maybe they'd pursue that.
But all those questions and problems could wait. They had time now, all the time in the world, and they were finally—finally—alone. She threw herself into his arms, pressing her mouth to his, hungry for his attentions. After weeks of constant sexual relations, the sudden absence was less of a vacation than she'd thought it would be.
John might now be in the body of a modern man, but his old-fashioned morals were still very much in play and he'd refused to do anything inappropriate with her while her family was in the house. She probably would have been fine with that, but he wouldn't even sleep in the same room with her, and she'd missed the casual touching and snuggling as well, not to mention the spanking.
He didn't go so far as to insist on staying at Charles's house, but he'd considered it. He'd even suggested he should live separately until they could be married, which she wasn't ready for. In the end, he realized he couldn't handle being away from the mansion yet; the outside world was still too strange. He packed a suitcase full of Charles's expensively tailored clothes and made arrangements for the house to be sold, fully furnished. He needed nothing else from the lawyer's residence and had no attachment to any of it. The money would be added to their assets, along with everything else Charles had owned.
But when she'd driven him back to the estate, he'd chosen a room close to Mary's, as if to assure her that he had no intentions on her granddaughter. April thought the whole thing ridiculous. Her grandmother wasn't stupid and she already knew they'd slept together but, for John, it seemed to matter that they maintain proprieties in front of her relatives. She'd given in, but not gracefully and not without trying to tempt him into breaking his rules by slipping into his bed in the middle of the night, naked. He'd woken with her hand on his shaft, stroking it to life and had visibly struggled before finally sending her to her own bed with a harsh slap across the backside and a whispered threat of what he intended to do to her once they were alone.
She'd forgotten all about that in the rush of happiness at finally being alone. When she'd watched her family pass through the tall iron gates, she'd practically skipped back inside and thrown herself into John's arms. "That was torture! I finally have you in the flesh and you refused to touch me," she said, a playful pout on her face.
"It would have been inappropriate with them here. And I'm not entirely sure it's acceptable, now that they're gone. We're not married, nor even engaged yet," he said, scowling at her.
"Uh-huh, funny how that didn't seem to matter before," April said, pulling away from him and folding her arms over her chest.
"That was different!" he snapped.
"Why? Why was it different?" she demanded, eyes narrowing. "And don't you dare say it didn't count because you were a ghost. Because ghost or not, it counted, trust me." She didn't need to remind him that she was a virgin before she met him, at least as far as actual intercourse went.
That seemed to stump him for a minute and then he sighed. "It was different because it was the only way we could be together. There was no chance for marriage while I wasn't living, so it was all we had. Now, we can do it the right way," he said, trying to appeal to her, but she was from a time where you didn't have to get married to have sex and, once he'd opened that door, she wasn't going to let him shut it.
"It's a bit late now, John. Besides, until you sort out your legal name change, you know we can't get married. I'm not going to be Mrs. Bruebeker. I-I know that it was never really Charles, but the name is connected with all of those bad memories and I don't want to carry it," she said. She was playing on his sympathies but it was true, nonetheless. It was John's she saw when she looked at the body he wore, though, if she concentrated, she could just see the true face underneath. She avoided doing that, preferring to only see the man she loved.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand and finally nodding. "You're right. I'm told it could take some time before I can change it legally, because of the medical issue."
The medical issue that they'd made up, of course. It had solved some problems but had created others. They would work through it but, for the moment, it was slowing things down. In this particular case, she didn't mind because she wasn't ready to rush to the altar yet. It was going to take a little time for the woman who thought she'd be alone her whole life to adjust to being a wife.
"So, you'll forget about the no sex until we're married thing?" she asked, eyeing him with one eyebrow raised in question.
"I suppose the fact that we're engaged will have to be
enough," he said reluctantly.
"But we're not—"
He interrupted her, pulling her hand up and sliding a beautiful diamond ring onto her finger. "We are now," he said firmly.
She gaped at him in surprise, eyes dropping to stare at the ring. "But how? When?"
He shrugged, pulling her up tight against him. "A lot of things get lost in a house over the years. I happened to know where this was. I intended to give it to you as a gift in place of the wedding ring I could never give you, but now, it will serve to mark our betrothal." He paused as he looked down into her eyes. "In my time, we didn't really use rings for that purpose, that came later, but my understanding is an engagement ring is traditional now," he said.
"Y-yes, it is. I mean some people use them to propose but I-I," she stammered, eyes wide with shock.
"I suppose I should do this the correct way, then." He pushed her back firmly a couple of feet and then got down on one knee in front of her, holding the hand that bore the ring. "April Cassidy, will you consent to be my wife?" he asked in a serious tone.
She swallowed hard, trying to moisten her suddenly dry throat. There was really no other answer she could give him but, "Yes. Yes, John, I'll be your wife."
He smiled, a truly happy smile, with no tinge of melancholy. It was one of the few she'd ever seen on his face and she couldn't help smiling in return. She also had to tease him. "It was worth it, just to see you on your knees," she said.
He snorted and got to his feet. "Don't get used to it, darling," he said. There was a bit of sternness in his tone, not because of her teasing, which he hadn't minded, but because he suddenly remembered something. "Now that we've gotten all that out of the way, I believe I promised you a spanking."
"A spanking? Wait, what? What did I do?" April wailed, panicking as he scooped her up and dropped her over his shoulder. It was a position she was becoming familiar with, though from a slightly different height since his new body was just a couple of inches shorter.
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