42
Demi
“How much time do we have?”
It’s the first thing Tristan asks when Kitty and Mickey arrive at the manor.
His tone and demeanor are both calm and nonchalant, but I can see beyond that.
To me, his concern is evident in the flex of his jaw, the tension in his broad shoulders, the way his eyes track my every move as if I might disappear at any moment.
My aunts carry the scent of lavender and rosemary into my house with them, along with two suitcases and a basket overflowing with detritus. They must have come here straight off the train from New York.
In response to Tristan’s question, Mickey pats his hand sympathetically. “Let’s sit down and talk, dear.”
Ever the gentleman, Tristan offers to make some tea while my aunts and I settle in around the kitchen table together. His back is to me as he readies the kettle. I watch the way he clenches his fists then shakes them out, the way his back expands with a deep inhale that he lets out slowly.
I don’t like that he’s worried for me and trying to hide it.
And I don’t like the expressions on my aunts’ faces as they sit across from me. They look nervous and grim. For two women who are always free-spirited and constantly amused, it’s alarming to see them so serious .
“Our friends in New York helped us make more sense of the spell you performed, and they helped us find a few possible solutions,” Kitty says.
“That feels like good news. Why do you look like you’re giving me bad news?” I ask.
I bite back a wince as now-familiar pain radiates through my stomach, then spreads.
What started as an ache after I tried to eat has now become something else entirely.
It’s ceaseless, and the worst of it settles into my chest, clawing at my heart and lungs.
At its best, it leaves me short of breath.
At its worst, it makes me wonder if this is what it feels like to die slowly.
Kitty and Mickey exchange a look.
“The easier option—” Mickey starts.
“Well, not exactly easier ,” Kitty interrupts.
“Fine, the less risky option is a reversal.”
“If done correctly, it should return you to normal. It’ll save your life,” Kitty explains.
Tristan carries four cups of tea to the table, setting one in front of each of my aunts and me, and one for himself. I may not be able to taste it, but tea is one of the few things I can stomach. The hot liquid is as much a comfort as it always has been.
He sits next to me, one hand curled around his steaming mug, the other under the table on my thigh.
“What about Tristan?” I ask.
The aunts exchange a look again, this one heavier than before, and they seem to have a hard time looking at the man sitting next to him.
“It will send him,” Kitty says gently.
My stomach sinks. “Send him?”
The memory of a beautifully filigreed page in the spell book comes to mind with a rush of grief .
Spells for Sending:
To the Afterlife, To the Underworld, To the In-Between, To Oblivion.
“It would return Tristan to his natural state,” Mickey replies.
“His natural state?” I ask, tone much harsher than I intend.
Can’t they see that this is his natural state? Here, with me, alive?
“He would become a ghost again, Demi. Then he’d be sent onward.”
My heart is breaking; meanwhile, beside me, Tristan is quiet and unsurprised, caressing my thigh with his thumb as if this is a casual conversation.
“Where would he go?”
Tristan leans in and presses a kiss to my temple. “It’s okay,” he whispers, low enough so that only I can hear. “I’ll be okay, baby.”
“That would be up to Tristan,” Kitty says. “Some form of afterlife.”
I shake my head. “What’s the other option?” I say it like a demand more than a question. I can’t fathom the thought of Tristan being sent ?anywhere, somewhere I couldn’t find him. Somewhere I couldn’t follow.
“That path is more dangerous. For both of you,” Mickey replies.
“Please, just tell me,” I say.
Kitty runs her fingers through her scalp and sighs, centering herself, then smooths her silver bob back to its usual sleek form.
“It’s called soul enchainment. It’s a spell to bind two souls together. ”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It’s irreversible. Once it’s done, it can’t be undone, and your and Tristan’s fates will be tied together. Forever.”
I look at Tristan, and his gray gaze meets mine. I think I know his answer without asking. He loves me with a finality I’ve never experienced. If asked to tie his soul to mine for eternity, I don’t think he’d hesitate to say yes.
“Take it from me,” he says. “Forever is a long time.”
He’s right. We’ve only known each other for a few months. Maybe it would be reckless to make such a permanent commitment so soon. But looking at him now, his handsome face and the way he looks at me like I’ve hung the moon… I think I already know the answer.
Just like Beaumont Manor was always meant to be mine, so was the ghost who lived here. Tristan is as much my home as the house itself.
I smile and touch his face, ignoring the way my hand passes through him like vapor. “Forever sounds good to me.”
“Slow down, lovebirds,” Mickey cuts in. “There’s more.”
Tristan and I turn our attention back to the aunts.
“When we say your fates will be tied forever, we don’t mean it in some abstract way. The spell will keep you both alive in your mortal forms. But, if an accident should happen or an illness, and one of you dies, the other will also die,” Kitty explains.
“Necromancy will always require a sacrifice. Most spell work does,” Mickey says. “The sacrifice in this spell is your most sacred autonomy. ”
I open my mouth to tell them that I don’t care, that I’ll do anything for a future with Tristan, but Kitty raises one hand to stop me before I can speak.
“And that’s if ?the spell works,” she says, glancing at Mickey before continuing. “This spell is complicated. We don’t exactly have much experience with work like this. I can’t guarantee we’d be strong enough to pull it off.”
“So, if it doesn’t work, we can just try again?” I ask, maybe too hopeful for my own good.
“No, dear.”
“If it doesn’t work, it will kill you,” Kitty says.
“No,” Tristan interjects.
He’s barely said a word since we sat down, so the sound of his deep voice and firm rebuttal quiets the rest of us and raises the tension in the room.
“Sorry,” he softens his tone a little and shakes his head. “If our odds are better with the sending spell, that’s what we should do.”
“Tristan, the soul spell gives us a chance at a future together.”
“Forever is a huge commitment, Demi.”
Oh.
A huge commitment.
Something about those words makes everything go cold: my skin, my blood, my world.
Have I completely misread the situation?
Have I been too deeply lost in an oxytocin-induced fog?
Too carefree, too confident, making assumptions about the man I’m dating instead of seeing him as he is—like I’ve always done? Just like I did with Owen.
Suddenly, I feel exhausted. Bone-deep tired. It’s all too much .
“Maybe we should give you some privacy to talk,” Kitty says.
“No. There’s nothing to talk about,” I reply.
“Demi,” Tristan says my name, but right now, I feel so foolish that I barely want him to know ?my name. A deep line forms between his brows as he looks at me, as if he has no idea he’s breaking my heart.
“I don’t want to rush you, but time is of the essence. Tomorrow is the full moon and Samhain, and the amount of energy from both will help our spell work. Tomorrow might be our only chance to do this,” Mickey explains.
“Demi, we should talk about this,” Tristan says.
I shake my head and stand. “No, I’ve made my decision. ?I chose to bring you back, so these are my consequences.”
There’s a strange static feeling that starts at the top of my head and moves through my body in a fluttering wave.
Kitty and Mickey gasp. Tristan says my name again.
I look down at myself and see my body has gone slightly…
transparent. Before I have a chance to process what I’m seeing, the static feeling disappears, and my body becomes solid again.
“We’re doing the soul enchainment spell tomorrow,” I say to my aunts, whose eyes are wide with fear. They’re clutching each other’s hands on top of the table.
It’s all too much.
I turn to Tristan. “And if it ends up being too much of a commitment for you, we can live our separate lives once it’s done.”
As I walk away, I hear all three of them call my name. I hear the scrape of Tristan’s chair on the floor. But I don’t turn around. Mittens wakes from her nap by the fireplace to follow at my heels as I make a hasty exit to the second floor.
When I reach my bedroom, I close the door and do something I haven’t done once since I moved in.
I turn the lock to keep Tristan out.