I started getting visions of him hurting one of the citizens of our small town. Ian had assured me he would never and had never killed any humans in Summit’s Edge. At the time I believed him because I had heard nothing to the contrary, and Clark hadn’t gotten any missing persons reports locally. I didn’t want to learn tonight everything changed.
One second I stood in his arms, and the next he drew me to him. My hands came up without thinking to his chest, and he kissed me. I had no time to react or to enjoy his kiss as I had done several times before. Ian held me and then he didn’t. I raised a hand to a bookcase to steady myself, and Ian stood with his back to me. He seemed like a stranger in that instant. Doubts clouded my mind as well as confusion. I opened my mouth to question him once again, but he cut me off.
“I have to take care of something. I’ll be back.”
Then he was gone.
Rather than walk home the way I had come, I winked out and blinked into my own house. Ian’s actions and attitude confused me, and I couldn’t think of a single valid reason why he would ever treat me the way he did. He was never overly warm, but to kiss me and brush me off?
I drifted down the hall to the living room. Monica had fallen asleep on the couch with the TV playing as usual. In his room, Jake slept if not soundly at least better than he had earlier in the day. I floated above him invisible, watching his small chest rise and fall. The conversation with Ian came back to mind, his appearance, his attitude. Was he changing himself because he was dissatisfied with his life? I didn’t have a problem with it. But skinny jeans, Ian? I cringed.
Something niggled at the back of my mind, something other than the way he looked. I mentally ran over what I had said and his response. I considered Ian the strong, silent type, but his fluent speech when he did open up, the choice of words, the inflections always took me back to an age far gone. I absolutely loved that about him. However, unless I was going crazy or I was mistaken, the last words he had said to me were—“I’ll be back.”
Ian McClain, born over one hundred years ago in a simpler era outside Boston, Massachusetts was still a product of his time. He might have changed his hairstyle and chosen different clothes, but I didn’t believe he could so easily change his way of speaking.
Ian never spoke with contractions. Not once in all the time I had known him.
I got Jake up from bed the next day, got him bathed, and made him eat something. Most of all, I concentrated on getting liquids into him.
“I’m better, Mom,” he complained when I started to take his temperature again.
“No, you’re not. In fact, I’m thinking about taking you to the doctor’s later.”
“You can’t do that!”
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he reined in his voice level. While he curled up on a chair, draped in a comforter, I changed his bed sheets.
“It’s just a cold.”
“We don’t know that, Jake.”
I leaned far across the bed to get an end of the fitted sheet tucked away.
“Can you go to a hospital, Mom? Won’t the machines break?”
I froze, staring down at the bed, my back to him. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“Ghosts. You know, they break machines when it tries to register that they’re there. I read it in a book once.”
I couldn’t imagine what book he had read this information in, and I hated recalling that Jake remembered most of what he read if it interested him. “That’s nonsense, sweetie. There’s no such thing as…”
“Don’t say that, Mom. You’re here.”
I had no words, but I scrounged around my brain for an answer. When a coughing fit hit my little boy, and I turned to find his eyelids drooping, I’m ashamed to admit I felt relief. I tucked him into bed, made sure he had everything he needed, and then tiptoed out of the room.
Weariness weighed on me even as I floated around the house, no direction, no ideas. How would I get Jake to let go of the idea that I was a ghost? By his own admission he’d been harboring these suspicions for a while, and I had confirmed them by fading out. What was I going to do?
My front door opened, and Ian strode in. I hesitated to approach him when previously I would have tumbled into his embrace. I knew the problem wasn’t all on my end when he didn’t hold out his arms for me, and my heart ached.
“I want you to leave Summit’s Edge,” he said.
Those were the last words I expected to hear. “What?”
He repeated what sounded like a command, and I frowned at him. “Jake is sick. I can’t leave him. No, I won’t leave him.”
“Take him with you. Pack what you need and leave tonight. I will escort you to the edge of town, and after that you should be fine.” He started past me as if he expected I would head into my room to pack right away, as if I would not question his order. I stood my ground.
“Why are you pushing me to leave all of a sudden, Ian?”
He stopped with his back to me. I waited, but he didn’t turn around to face me. “Do not ask questions.”
I grabbed his arm and tugged. If Ian didn’t want to look me in the eyes, no amount of pulling on him would get him to turn. He took his time pivoting on his heel. His expression was as closed as it always was. No, he appeared even colder, so distant I resisted a shiver. “We have been more than acquaintances or even friends. You’ve been acting funny, and I want an explanation!”
He watched me in silence.
I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not budging until you say something, and you can’t make me.” That last part sounded a tad childish, but I pushed the thought from my mind. I could be stubborn when I wanted to be.
“You know we cannot be together. Just leave.”
I gasped. Hurt tingled to the roots of my hair. A few minutes passed before I could pull myself together enough to respond. “So, that kiss was good-bye?”
Fire seemed to crackle in his eyes. “What. Kiss?” Each word was a sentence of its own, threat permeating the sounds, but not toward me.
My patience had come to an end, however, and I refused to explain every detail of how he had made me feel both earlier and now. If he didn’t care, why should I? “In your house.”
“When?”
“Stop these games, Ian. You know when. I don’t—”
“When, Liberty?”
I had hoped to break him of the habit of using my full name, but with our relationship crumbling around my ears, I doubted it would happen. I didn’t speak, and he grabbed for my arms. I winked out and floated away from him. He followed my movements with an angry glare, proving it didn’t matter if I was visible or not, he saw me. That had always pleased and scared me. Being outside my body separated me in a sense from living people, but I had kept my sanity knowing it would never be the case with Ian. Now this.
He shifted his shoulders, appearing to release tension. Anger in his visage faded, and he spoke in a soft, non-threatening tone. “Tell me when I kissed you…please.”
“Earlier tonight. I needed to talk to you and was hoping you were back and didn’t tell me.”
“I returned a few moments ago.”
I opened my mouth but snapped my teeth together. Ian’s hair was styled the way he always wore it. He had dressed in blue jeans and a powder blue button down shirt. “Ian, I think—”
He moved toward the door, a blur with his vampire’s speed. I was faster. I willed myself in front of him, and he braked before crashing into me. A frown wrinkled the skin between his eyebrows.
“I want to know what’s going on,” I demanded.
“It is not important for you to know.”
“Are you trying to protect me or just push me away because you’ve changed your mind about us?”
“Your focus should be on finding your body, Liberty.”
“I am focused.”
He reached for me, stopped, and reached out again. When he drew me close this time, I let him. I longed to feel warmth in his touch, but neither of us had that to give. A vampire
had no warmth, although I had hugged him right after a feeding. While I couldn’t feel it, he had told me he generated warmth at that time for a short period. We were so unnatural. I sensed his worry. Ian had reasons of his own to push me away, and while it angered me that he couldn’t trust me with the truth, I trusted him enough not to write him off.
He raised my chin, and I waited, expecting a kiss. His gaze locked with mine, and I forgot time for an instant. This wasn’t anything new, but it was different. For a few milliseconds, my disconnect wasn’t spent alone with Ian calling me back. He occupied this space and time with me, and I knew in that moment he felt the same thing I did. Pushing me away wasn’t what he wanted to do. He thought it best. I longed for the details.
“Why did you come?” he asked.
I recalled Jake finding out my secret, and I began to tell him.
“Libby, are you here?” Monica called from the living room.
I glanced toward the doorway, and that fast, Ian left me. Loneliness pressed down. I couldn’t get him to talk now, so I headed into the living room. “Yes, I’m here. You should get to bed. It’s late.”
“What’s bugging you? I know when something’s wrong.”
I gave my friend a weak smile. “Where do I begin?”
Chapter Three
I didn’t know how much time passed until I came to myself. Alarmed, I found myself in the kitchen and rushed to Jake’s room. He sat on his bed playing video games, an empty bowl that looked like it had contained oatmeal at his elbow. I rushed to his side, blocking the TV screen in the process. He leaned around me and moaned.
“Mom, you’re going to make me lose.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. Are you okay?” I felt his forehead and then reached for the thermometer. Even before I did, I noticed his coloring was better. “Did Monica cook you the oatmeal?”
“Yup, and she added honey and cinnamon. It was good. Can you do it that way next time?”
Guilt assaulted me. “Sure, sweetie.” To be on the safe side, I took his temperature and found it normal. Breathing a sigh of relief, I walked to the door. “One more day of rest. I don’t want you to have a relapse.”
“Mom,” he complained with a whine. I ignored him and left the room.
In the hall, I paused, relieved that he was fine, but I had come to the conclusion this had to end. In my depression of the night before, I had let myself drift. I hadn’t meant to do it because Jake needed my undivided attention. Ian had insisted I focus, and I claimed I was, but this situation proved to me control and I did not agree. Now was the time because Jake knew my secret. Everyone could believe I had somehow passed away, although I didn’t know yet how I should stage it. I had shared with Monica about how Jake knew, and she had offered few suggestions. Yet, I saw the confliction in her face. We had a system that worked, she’d said, but in my eyes it was falling down.
Anguish washed over me as I headed back to the kitchen, all the while planning my next move. I paused when I heard raised voices. They weren’t coming from my house but rather outside. I couldn’t imagine someone having a gathering on my front lawn, so I went to investigate. I peered out the window to find a police cruiser parked in front of Ian’s house. A small crowd of my neighbors had congregated on Ian’s lawn, some spilling onto mine. A few other citizens of Summit’s Edge had also collected on the scene. Word spread fast in our small town, especially word of trouble.
Worry gripped me as I rushed outside. Sunlight beamed down in the sky. From the shorts and sleeveless tees, I imagined the day was quite warm. Yet, the police had invaded Ian’s home. He wouldn’t survive if they insisted he leave the house, not to mention his secret would be unveiled. I didn’t like the idea of the world learning about the existence of vampires. Of course, that was the least of my fears. My concern centered on the here and now and what would happen if this situation got out of control.
Spotting Monica in the crowd, I approached her. “What’s happened?”
Monica’s eyes were bright. I couldn’t determine if the look came from excitement or anxiety. “Vanessa’s been killed.”
My concentration wavered. “Vanessa? Not…not in there?” I nodded toward Ian’s house. Why would Vanessa, the new girl who had replaced Miles Lucas at the library, be inside Ian’s place? Miles had left Summit’s Edge after his name was cleared of murder. There could be no reason for Vanessa, new to our town, to ignite violence in any of our citizens, least of Ian.
Unless…
My confidence waivered a bit as I stood there staring at his house, thinking of him and what he was. Would we always come to this? No, not always. I’m letting go, remember?
“H-How did she die?” I didn’t want to know, but I forced myself to ask.
A man close enough to overhear our conversation spoke before Monica could answer. “Blood loss. She was drained dry. How do you reckon that happened?”
I had no intention of answering him. Monica and I looked at each other, her eyes filled with fear. I had never shared Ian’s secret with her, but I think at that moment she wondered just who it was I had been seeing all this time, the man I had allowed to be around my son and trusted to protect him and Monica when I left Summit’s Edge in search of my body. My friend cared about me, and I imagined as bold as Monica was, she would fight one of the living dead on my and Jake’s behalf.
I peered at Ian’s house again. The front door stood open, but Clark’s officers remained with everyone else on the front walk. Was there a barrier? Could Ian make a barrier that kept out humans? I wasn’t sure. The officers consulted with each other, heads bowed, anger in their visages but also confusion. I wanted to wink out and move closer to hear what they said, but Monica held onto my hand as if she feared for my safety. I waited by her side, and then another car drew up to the scene. I recognized Isabelle’s car. The chief of police’s sister leaped from the vehicle, scanned the crowd, and then spotted us. She rushed over.
“Is it true?” she demanded. “Is Nesssa dead?”
I gaped. “Nessa?” The name rang familiar. Of course the name Vanessa might sometimes be shorted to Nessa. Maybe that’s why it seemed like I’d heard it before. “Did you know her, Isabelle?”
The library assistant hadn’t been in town long, and I wasn’t aware Isabelle spent much time there. Then again she might since she was given to researching her craft as a witch. She might frequent the library. Isabelle had confessed to me that she was a witch but that she didn’t have a coven or a mentor to teach her what she thought should be standard spells and potions. What she knew she had learned on her own, but she didn’t feel as capable as she could be. The fact that she had discovered one clue to what had happened to my body impressed me, so I didn’t discount her gifts. Not to mention, Ian had validated what she was in his unspoken dislike of her—and vise versa.
“Know her?” Isabelle said and squinted toward Ian’s house. “Not really.”
“You just called her by a nickname.” Monica never missed details like that.
Isabelle forced a smile and met my gaze rather than Monica’s. “We’ll talk about it later.”
I wondered what she hadn’t told me, but I trusted that whatever it was, she would share it if it had to do with me. “Right now, I’m worried about the people of Summit’s Edge.”
I’d muttered the words but wished I could take them back.
“Why them, Libby?” Monica said. She studied me with suspicion. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your boyfriend? Then again maybe not if he’s a murderer.”
“Monica.”
My friend released my hand and folded her arms over her chest. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
I could almost sense the ears perking up around me. More folks than Monica knew I’d been spending evenings with Ian. We had often walked in the park and along the streets of the town. Most of that time, I was invisible. Once or twice, I had materialized, and whenever I took Jake with me to Ian’s, I had been solid. Any of the neighbors could have been watching out
their windows, and gossip spread fast around town. With this line of thought, I realized the police might soon be interested in whether I knew anything about the case.
Just what I need—another body.
“No, of course not.” I patted Monica’s shoulder. “I’m in the dark about what’s going on just as much as you and everyone else.” This was true. I didn’t want to believe Ian had anything to do with Vanessa’s death, but he had been behaving strangely, and he was a vampire after all. I thought about what he had said to me not long ago. He wouldn’t honor any agreement between the two of us if it meant his secret would be exposed. Did that mean Vanessa found out that he was a vampire and he killed her? From his previous actions, I doubted Ian would go that far. Besides, he was a very intelligent man. He would have more sense than to kill a woman who had learned his secret and then allow her body to be found at his house.
Perhaps he had lost control. Again, if he had, I believed he would cover it up. Vanessa would disappear, never to be heard from again. I shivered wondering how many people this had happened to over the one hundred years Ian had lived, and it terrified me. I recalled how detached he often appeared. He had the ability to kill, but did he? What should I believe? I grasped for answers, ordering them in my mind the way I wanted and to comfort myself from losing what little control I had left. In any case, I needed to see him and ask him for the truth face-to-face.
Another patrol car arrived, this one with the moniker on the side that said Chief of Police. A ripple of murmurs rolled over the crowd, and all heads turned in Clark’s direction. I watched him unfold his long, muscular form from the vehicle and straighten. A frown marred his handsome face, and the hair curling onto his forehead and beneath his ears said he’d forgotten his regular haircut as usual. Isabelle had been too busy with our preparations apparently to get onto him about it. I was ashamed of the fact that not being able to see Clark’s forehead always gave me a sense of relief. I couldn’t see the mark that shortened his lifespan.
I started to turn away, but Monica reached for me. “Where are you going, Libby?”
How to Kill a Ghost Page 2