43
Demi
Ghost stories always begin with the phrase “it was a dark and stormy night.” In this case, it’s a dark and stormy afternoon.
It’s Halloween, and the skies have opened up, weeping sheets of rain down on Beaumont Manor.
The wind howls like a pack of mournful wolves, and the thunder rattles the chandeliers, making them sway on the chains they hang from.
Outside, the clouds are so dense and black that it may as well be night.
Not to be dramatic, but it feels apropos. I’m embarrassed, and I’m sad. My heart is breaking against the rocky shore of Tristan’s words. Forever is a huge commitment.
I miss my sister.
And I might die today.
I spent last night and this morning wallowing; I think I’ve earned a little self-pity. Tristan knocked on my door no less than a dozen times since I walked away from him. I feel bad about not allowing him to explain, but I’ve just been so tired, and I couldn’t bear to hear him say ?I love you, but…
Now, as the storm rages on outside, we’re all in the living room, and the silence is thick.
Kitty and Mickey have their altar set up on the floor, in the same spot mine was when I brought Tristan back to life.
They’re meditating, the powdery scent of their burning incense perfuming the room, and I sit across the altar from them on the floor.
Tristan is sitting on the sofa, his knee bouncing incessantly.
I can feel his eyes on me. I can feel all the things he wants to say, but the aunts said to keep quiet while they meditated, so that’s what we’re doing.
I don’t want to talk anyway; I want to survive this spell, and we can figure the rest out from there.
I don’t want to worry anyone, so I’ve kept it to myself, but physically, things are getting worse.
Much worse. I didn’t sleep last night for fear that I wouldn’t wake up.
As I lay in bed with Mittens at my side, I struggled to find my breath.
That heavy clawing sensation inside my chest grips me.
It’s as if the magic is impatient to claim me, to be repaid for what I took from it in bringing Tristan back.
Even without the spiritual alignment of the full moon and Halloween, we’d have to do the spell today. I’ve run out of time.
The aunts open their eyes from their meditation, look at each other, and nod.
“It’s time,” Kitty says. “Are you ready?”
“Let’s do this,” I reply.
Mickey waves her hand at Tristan. “You, too. Come sit next to Demi.”
I try not to watch as he unfolds his long limbs to stand up. When he sits on the floor next to me, I feel his nearness like an ache. His knee touches mine. God, but I love him.
His proximity makes me almost forget that I’m upset with him. Tristan has somehow become an extension of myself over these past few months, our connection so deep and true. Or, at least I thought so.
Forever is a huge commitment.
I feel like a fool.
“Turn toward each other and hold hands,” Kitty says.
We shift so we’re facing each other, and Tristan holds out his hands to me like an offering. There’s nothing I want more in the world than to hold his hands, to feel his skin against mine, the safety of his touch. But still, I hesitate.
“Demi, I’m sorry. I didn’t—” Tristan starts.
I shake my head to stop him and slide my hands into his. My nervous system immediately relaxes; I can’t help it, his touch is a balm to me, even if my mind doesn’t want it to be right now.
His thumbs caress over my knuckles, and I finally meet his eyes. There he is, the man I love, the man for whom I’m willing to give everything up. It hurts my heart to look at him. There’s pain in his eyes, and I can’t tell if it’s mixing with remorse or desperation. Maybe both.
“Please,” he whispers. “Give me a chance here, Demi.”
Kitty and Mickey lean over their altar and wrap a soft scrap of cloth around where my left hand and Tristan’s right are joined. The fabric is dark blue with embroidered flowers, pretty, and they wrap it around our hands three times, chanting a line in Latin before tying it in a knot.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Handfasting,” Kitty replies.
“For this spell to work, you must keep in contact with each other no matter what. If you stop touching for any reason, the magic will break,” Mickey explains.
“Even if I turn ghostly and transparent?”
“Even then.”
“Got it,” I say. Within the cotton bind, Tristan squeezes my hand.
“I meant it’s a huge commitment for you ,” he blurts out.
Frustrated, I sigh. “What?”
The aunts begin mixing ingredients and lighting candles, chanting in low voices, and then there’s Tristan with terrible timing, trying to have a serious conversation. There are too many things happening all at once, and my head is already spinning.
“I said forever is a huge commitment. I’ve been around for a long time, and I already know what forever feels like. But you… You’re just starting.”
The edges of my vision go dark, and I feel suddenly dizzy, like I’ve been tipped upside down and then quickly righted. I take as deep a breath as I can and let it out slowly.
“What do you mean?” I manage to ask.
I’m not sure whether it’s the magic that Kitty and Mickey are starting to weave, or the hungry and vengeful magic inside me that’s been slowly turning me into a ghost, but I feel it all over my skin, under it, in my teeth, and my blood. And it hurts.
“Goddamn it, I’m not explaining this right,” Tristan mutters. He swallows hard and takes a second to gather himself, then, with his free hand, he touches my cheek. “I want forever with you.”
Hope kindles like a tiny flame in my heart. Hope and confusion .
“You do?”
“It’s the only thing I want. But you have so much life to live, I don’t want you throwing it away on me without thinking it through.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well, that changes things.”
“Did you think I didn’t want you?” His gray eyes are full of concern.
A weight lifts from my shoulders. Oh, god, I was wrong. In the best, most perfect way, I was wrong.
“I thought you were getting cold feet.”
He shakes his head, a small and incredulous smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve been obsessed with you since the moment you walked through my front door.”
My eyes water with relief. “Commitment freaks people out.”
“Not me,” he says. His thumb wipes away the tear that spills over my eyelashes. “You’re it for me.”
“So, I crashed out for no reason,” I say with a laugh.
“Pretty much.”
“My bad.”
“I could have used my words better.”
“In all fairness, it’s been a long time since you were a real boy. You’re just learning to socialize again.”
Tristan laughs, leans in, and kisses me. I breathe him in, the smell of his skin, the soft scrape of his beard on my jaw, the sound he makes at the back of his throat when he kisses me.
“Break it up, kids. We’re trying to concentrate,” Kitty says.
I hear Mickey giggle .
We pull away from each other, and despite everything going on— the spell, the magic, the pain in my body, the embarrassment I feel at how I reacted— I grin at Tristan like I haven’t a care in the world.
“I probably should have let you explain this last night. It would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”
Tristan shrugs. “You’re worth the trouble.”
The fire in the fireplace surges, bright and hot, without warning, sending a shower of sparks into the black chimney. It brings me back to the present and reminds me that there’s magic at work.
Kitty and Mickey read from the spell book in front of them, while their hands work above a small, simmering cauldron. I’m not sure what they’ve mixed, but the scent is warm and herbaceous.
Inside me, the magic that’s been begging for its payday seems to be answering whatever call my aunts are casting. Like the fire in the hearth, the magic flares. It feels like it’s seeping into every part of me, trying to take hold.
And then it does.
I took something from the universe, and now the universe wants it back. I’m no match for it. The energy inside me, around me, is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Maybe this is what it feels like to drown in ice water. Maybe this is what it feels like to be a bolt of lightning.
“Demi?” Tristan calls my name, and he sounds so far away even though I know he’s right in front of me, my hand in his.
My vision is dark, muted, like I’m seeing everything through a thick curtain. Whatever this is… It’s happening too fast. Something feels off .
“What’s happening to her?!” I hear Tristan ask, but from a distance. Why does he sound so far away? Why can I no longer feel the warmth of his skin?
“The spell isn’t working,” Kitty says.
Oh, no.
I’m not ready.
I’m—