Ghostly: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy (Perks of Being Paranormal Book 1)

Chapter 14

“You can’t be serious.” Ida shuffled back on the sofa.

“It’s all in the contract. Look.” Gabriel tapped the page.

Ida peeked at it with one eye closed, one half-open, afraid this brief moment of joy would evaporate as soon as she set her eyes on the page. Make her alive again? She believed in a lot of things, but this seemed out of reach.

And yet, there it was, in the same print as the first contract: TheResurrection Contract.

Ida looked away and shook her head. “I’m sure it’s impossible. It’s just like the first one, but worse.”

“Actually, it’s not.” Gabriel’s voice was soft. “Yes, it has a bunch of conditions, and it disturbingly resembles a ritual—”

“Sacrifice? Human sacrifice? Blood for the gods?”

“What? No.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You haunted Temple of Doom again, didn’t you? I meant, it’s not about fulfilling conditions one at a time, but rather about getting ingredients together, then doing it all at once.”

That sounded strange enough curiosity got the best of her, and she checked the contract.

To resurrect a spirit, the following shall be needed.Remains of the deceased, either biological, or a personal item owned by thedeceased.

Gabriel shrugged. “I did find your grave.”

“You’re not becoming a grave robber because of me.” She rolled her eyes. “The music box. It was mine. It’ll do.”

An object imbued with the feelings of the deceased at the moment of theirdeath.

A human bond to the Earthly Realm and the current time.

Ida looked up.

“Not worded the best, but it’s not too strange,” Gabriel said. “Read on.”

This should be a person with a strong connection to the deceased.Recommended bonding persons: a parent, a sibling, a child, or anotherdescendant.

Ida sighed. “Well, we can quit now.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I need someone who feels strongly about me, and even if my family did, they’re all gone by now.”

“But their descendants might still live. Jamie—your nephew. Surely he had a family of his own. I can track them down—”

“They won’t feel a bond with me.”

Gabriel raked his hair. “We can discuss that later. What about the rest?”

The ritual, using the assorted items and persons, must take place at theexact same spot where the deceased died.

Ida let out a breath—that, at least, wasn’t hard.

The conditions in the radius of fifteen feet, centered on the spot of thedeceased’s demise, must be as close to the original conditions as possible,including but not limited to: any organic matter, such as the type of ground andflora in the area, man-made items, such as buildings or altered ground, andweather.

“Obviously, the last one is easy-peasy.” Gabriel grimaced. “I’ll just go grab my weather machine.”

“The night I died… it was mild weather, warm, but cloudy. Not too hard to replicate if we wait for the appropriate day.”

“Nuh-uh.” Gabriel gestured to the contract.

The ritual must be performed on the exact anniversary of the deceased’sdeath. It will commence upon the hour of death, provided the necessaryingredients are available. Once initiated, if it fails, it cannot be performedagain.

“March 11th,” Ida said. “We can only do it then.”

“That’s a good three months from now. Enough time to get it all ready.”

“This year? But—”

“Yes, this year! Or do you want to spend more time as a ghost?”

No, of course she didn’t. But she also understood the unspoken—Gabriel would only be here until this spring. This was her one chance.

“So, what do you think?” Gabriel asked.

She blinked and forced herself to focus. “It’s a lot of work. The backyard, right now, is in shambles. Back when I was alive—well, when I died—I was taking care of it. It was no palace garden, but still, it was nice. Only a few days before, I’d planted three new rose bushes. I still remember what spot they were in.” She’d calculated it precisely, to prevent the house from sinking.

“That’s great.” Gabriel’s face shone with enthusiasm. “Dina does gardening. She can help with advice.”

“But I—I—well, I fell down right by the wall. So the radius would extend into the dining room and the kitchen.”

“The contents of which have long since been replaced.” Gabriel rubbed his chin. “But the contract says as close to, not the same. I assume a good replication will do. Mark’s family owns an antique store in town. I’m sure they could procure me some Victorian furniture. You only need to tell me how this place looked.”

“And the house?”

“Huh?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the facade hasn’t exactly persevered.”

“Then I’ll do a paint job.” Gabriel spread his arms. “Time to put some of my own effort into it, anyway.”

“You’re only leasing the house. Do you think the landlady will let you make all the renovations?”

Gabriel waved his hand. “I’ll charm her. Or bribe her, if the need be.”

“Is bribe always plan B for you lawyers?”

“Not with money.” He leaned in, his lips stretching into a perfect, rascally smile. Nice lips—wide and just full enough to hint how sensual—“With food.”

“Huh?”

He leaned back, stretching his hand on the backrest. “I’ll invite her for dinner, have a nice talk. Trust me, that’s gonna be the least of our problems.”

How would it feel like to have some of her past restored? Ida gazed around the room, and her eyes stopped on the bookcase. Whenever the content in the bookcase changed—such as when a tenant left— she’d rearranged it to distribute the weight evenly. An automatic compulsion that stayed with her even as she died, just like straightening the statues and crossing the doorway. She remembered why she used to do it, too.

The bookcase must be balanced,lest the wall collapse. The wall will collapse and Harry’s bedroom is rightabove it; he’ll fall and die.

“So?” Gabriel tilted his head.

Wall will collapse… wall will collapse…

“Excuse me,” she choked out, and glided through the table and straight out into the backyard.

The spot she’d died in, that unfortunate patch of grass, was covered with a thick blanket of snow. Ida stopped near the half-rotten wooden bench and took in the house.

All the rose bushes must be neatly lined up and the soil of perfectdensity, or the left side of the house will sink.

Misaligned statues in the hallway make the floor lean toward the garden.It’s dangerous—you can’t walk on uneven ground. You trip and you fall and youdie.

Jacinda might die in childbirth and I’ll be free of her.

She remembered the thoughts with painful clarity. They couldn’t hurt her now, only make her feel stupid because the rosebushes had been gone for decades and clearly, the house was still fine; the statues got misaligned many times, and no one died of it yet. The house didn’t collapse because one book was out of place in the living room.

But if Ida came back to life, the thoughts would return in full. They would no longer be harmless memories; the voice would live in her head, day and night, make her question and stumble upon every action, make her waste hours of her newly gained life every day just to satisfy something that made no sense.

She wanted to be alive again. But she was also terrified at the prospect.

Closing her eyes, she glided on a short path from the bench to the winterberry bush and back again, and back again, and back again. Was she getting too caught up in her thoughts? She remembered that, too. How she’d analyze every single prospect of a fact until it felt like her brain was overheating.

Gabriel had warned her to approach this carefully, because the contract could be faulty. So maybe it made no sense to picture—or worry about—a proper life, about feeling things, the good and the bad, tasting them, about…

About Gabriel.

How much she wished she could properly hug him, to thank him for everything he was doing for her. And not only hug him. If she could, she’d touch his hand to see—

No. Getting carried away again.

Gabriel had made no indication since the dinner with the neighbors of feeling anything more for her than friendship. She might have even imagined that lean-in-for-the-kiss. Another remnant of the time when she was still alive, another over-analyzation.

But what about his glance? The other day, after the conversation about their pasts, he’d looked at her differently. She couldn’t pinpoint what the look was, and his words were certainly no indication, but she hadn’t seen it before. It wasn’t friendlier or softer. Quite the opposite—intense, heated, almost, and something nibbled on the edge of her memory when she tried to prod out the emotion behind it.

Stop, stop, stop.More over-analyzation, more imagining. And why, because he was kind enough to get her another book? This was a resurrection contract, not a love potion, despite the somewhat witchy feel of it.

Gabriel rounded the corner, hands deep in the pockets of his hastily buttoned coat, a tacky knitted hat (consolation prize for the treasure hunt) hanging askew on his head. “There you are.” He stopped a few feet away. “You left without saying anything.”

“I said ‘excuse me’.”

“Not exactly an expected reaction.” His voice was gentle, and he moved closer. “Is something wrong? A condition worrying you?”

Not a condition. Just me.

But, despite Gabriel knowing something of her past, she couldn’t share all that. She couldn’t tell him of every excruciatingly horrible thought that’s ever passed her mind. And how could she explain she was afraid to live again?

She sniffled. “I, uh… the object imbued by my feelings.” At least, that truly was a problem. “At the moment I died, I felt anger.”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “I see. The book explains how to create such an object. Will you come look at it? You’ll probably understand it better, but the way I see it, you have to haunt it, then unleash your emotions… and some other mumbo-jumbo.”

She let out a short laugh. “Even after all this time, you’re still calling it mumbo-jumbo.”

“Legal term,” he said, making her laugh again.

Funny, how Gabriel was far from a stand-up comedian, and yet he made her laugh more than any other person ever had. Including while she was still alive.

“Show me,” she said, and followed him inside—properly, not phasing through a wall.

The procedure seemed simple enough: possessing the object and focusing strongly on the emotion while in it. But… “I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s all right. You have plenty of time to practice.”

“True, but do you realize what this would mean? Look: such objects retaintheir imbued emotions permanently and can affect their surroundings. In amateur circles, they would be referred to as ‘cursed objects’. It’s not a safe thing to do. Especially when it would be fueled by anger.” She bowed her head.

“No. I won’t let you give up because of this one thing.”

If it were only one thing.

Gabriel rested the book on the coffee table and turned to her, rubbing a finger across his lower lip. “We’ll figure it out. We have time. How about you start with easier emotions? Happier? That way you don’t have to be afraid.”

Ida forced her eyes away from his finger. “I could try.” For now, it would give her something to do. Time to adjust to the new possibilities.

And maybe if she focused on that, she’d stop thinking about how one particular set of lips would feel if they touched hers.

“Tell you what,” Gabriel continued with unabashed enthusiasm. “There’s a shop in town, selling handmade objects, jewelry, and such. They have discount Fridays. I’ll pop in there and get you some nice things to use.”

“Wonderful idea. That way they’ll attract more people.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you sassing me, ghostie?”

She laughed. “Jewelry stores. Friday discounts. Dina does gardening, Mark’s family owns an antique store.” She met his eyes. “You’re a proper local now.”

“I just happen to have a good memory.”

“So, how do we enact this?”

“Same way as the first contract. You haunt it, then haunt me.”

“What about the first contract?”

“Logically, it should become null and void.”

“Okay.” Ida shifted on the sofa, then popped into the page with the contract. In, out, clean and simple. The Resurrection Contract didn’t feel any different than the first: the smell of processed wood, something acidic, and the slight undertone of licorice. Maybe Brenda B. Bustin liked candy.

“Now me?” Gabriel asked.

“Why, you aren’t offering yourself up for possession?” Thank god she couldn’t blush. She’d have gone as red as a tomato at the thought of being so close to him. Literally, inside him.

“Just be a good ghostie and do it the same as the first time around.” Gabriel squared his shoulders, closed his eyes, and tilted his chin up, as if that were the ideal position for possession.

It didn’t matter at all, but it did give her a better look at his neck—strong, but lean—the little dent under his Adam’s apple, and the slight sprinkle of hair, just starting where he’d left the second button of his teal leaf-print shirt unbuttoned.

She’d seen a man’s bare chest before (regrettably, Larry loved going topless in summer) but having a glimpse of Gabriel’s was strangely mouthwatering.

Gabriel opened one eye. “Did you do it yet?”

Stop fantasizing about him right now.“Uh, no.”

“Damn. And I thought you’d learned how to do it even better.”

“I’ll do it now. Ready?” She waited for his nod and flicked inside him. She couldn’t figure out if humans just felt like what they loved most, or if she’d landed somewhere near his stomach, but—coffee. So much coffee aroma. Human bodies, in comparison to inanimate objects, were also warmer, but felt shifty, as if she was engulfed in quicksand. She waited for a few seconds and zipped out.

See. That wasn’t so bad.Inside the man, and not one lewd thought. She could do this. “All fixed up.”

Gabriel brought out the original contract, and they stared at the pages.

“You can’t read my mind while you’re haunting me, right?” he said.

“No. Why?”

“Nothing. Privacy and all that. Look!”

The empty space beneath the Resurrection Contract filled up with their names. However…

“The old contract is still active,” Ida said.

Gabriel rubbed the names on the Passing Through contract, but nothing happened. “Figures this thing wouldn’t follow logic. What did I expect?”

“So now what?”

“Nothing. If it’s broken, it doesn’t matter. If it’s not and the problem was not fulfilling a condition…” His eyes searched hers. “Then I’ll just have to take care not to forgive anyone and pop you out of existence before we can bring you back to life.”