Chapter Twenty-Nine
Twenty-Nine
Cassie didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t give a damn about ghosts anymore. At that moment, all she wanted was to pull Nick away from prying eyes, down the street if necessary, and ask him what he meant by “I’m all in.” It wasn’t exactly an I love you , but it wasn’t not one, either. That moment, where it was just her and him there at her front gate, felt like one of those moments you needed to pause, to remember every detail, because it was a moment you were going to remember for the rest of your life. The way Nick’s hands felt, cupping her face. The way his eyelashes were a little spiky as they framed those clear blue eyes of his. The way he smelled faintly of lemon sugar, carried on the light breeze that surrounded them. His voice, his words, the way he talked so fast it was like his mouth was trying to keep up with his brain. Cassie wanted to hold him close and live in this moment for the rest of her life.
But she couldn’t. Because there was a malevolent spirit in her house, bullying everyone he was able to reach, and that asshole needed to be evicted. And this gorgeous, perfect man in front of her was apparently the key to making that happen.
So instead of dragging him out of there to a place where none of this could touch them so she could ask, What exactly do you mean by “I’m all in”? , she gripped his hand tightly and led him up the stairs and onto her front porch. There was something about the way he walked, with slow, deliberate steps, that made Cassie’s heart hurt. It was obvious that this was hard for him; every time he’d been to her house recently he hadn’t even made it inside the front door. She didn’t understand what C.S. Hawkins was doing when he affected Nick like this, but it was obviously uncomfortable at best and painful at worst. This whole exorcism thing had better be quick.
Cassie stepped carefully over the threshold of her front door. Nick hesitated for a long moment before following. Once on the other side of the threshold, he exhaled a long, slow breath.
“Okay.” He smiled at Cassie. “See? It’s not so bad.”
He was lying. Cassie could tell by the set of his jaw, a slight squint in his eyes, that it was indeed bad. Really bad. What kind of torture had he just signed himself up for, for her sake? Cassie hated this, but all she could do now was support him to the end.
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were still that bright, impossible blue, but she knew that wasn’t going to last. It was about to get much, much worse.
Nan was waiting in the living room, with Libby and Sophie behind her in the kitchen like acolytes in casual summer wear flanking their track-suited high priestess. Sophie chewed on a fingernail, her eyes darting around, while Libby kept her eyes on her grandmother. But Nan only had eyes for Nick and Cassie.
Cassie, meanwhile, only had eyes for her living room. While she’d been outside, the room had been completely transformed. The curtains were drawn, turning the room into an intimate scene. Those tall, white taper candles glowed from where she’d placed them earlier. All the furniture had been pushed up against the walls, like they were going to throw a dance party in the living room. Even the circular area rug had been rolled up and moved aside. In the middle of the empty space was a large, almost-completed circle laid down with what looked like sand. Cassie pointed to it. “That better vacuum up afterward.”
Nan rolled her eyes, while a smile played around Libby’s mouth. “It’ll be fine,” Libby murmured, as Nan gestured to the circle.
“Right. In there, you two.”
“Both of us?” This surprised Cassie, but she wasn’t upset about it. She wasn’t about to let go of Nick’s hand anyway.
But Nick lingered, eyeing the circle. “What is that?”
“Salt,” Nan said. “Mixed with sand from Cemetery Island. Powerful stuff. Grounding. It’s good when you’re trying to get a spirit’s attention.”
“All I usually need to do is change up the banana bread recipe.” Nick’s lips turned up at his attempt at a joke, but his voice was thin, his smile tight. He cleared his throat. “What happens when we step in there?”
“Libby’s going to close the circle behind you,” Nan said. “C.S. Hawkins seems to like you, so we’re going to see if you can attract him to you. Once he’s here and attached to you, he’ll be trapped in the circle, and we can concentrate on getting him out.”
“Can’t say that I’ve ever been bait before.” Nick rolled his head around his neck, then shrugged his shoulders, like he was warming up for something.
Cassie tugged gently on his hand. “Are you sure about this?”
He turned his gaze to her; his eyes had darkened, but they were still blue. Cassie’s heart skipped a beat. It was starting already. But his smile was gentle, sincere, and just for her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”
She wasn’t sure about that, but before she could say anything else, Nick stepped through the opening and into the salt-and-sand circle, and what could she do but follow? As soon as they were inside, Libby was there, pouring more of the sand and salt mixture in the gap they’d just stepped through, closing the circle behind them. Cassie caught her breath, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. No energy shift, no dramatic explosions.
“You all right?” She looked up at Nick.
“There’s nothing wrong with me.” It wasn’t Nick’s voice anymore. Not completely. It was harder, meaner. Cassie dropped his hand in alarm, and if she could have taken a step back without disturbing the circle she would have. It had happened in an instant, and so much more intensely than it ever had before. Nick put his hands on his hips and rotated in a tight circle, taking in the living room in its entirety. “What are you all doing in my house?”
“The house is mine.” Cassie’s chest felt tight as she spoke. She meant those words, more emphatically than she’d ever meant anything in her life. It was almost like she was saying them more loudly, saying them twice. At the same time. “Not yours. It was never yours, Charles.” Nick , she thought. His name is Nick, not Charles. But Nick’s eyes had gone dark, dark brown, and there was something about his face, something about the way he held himself, that made Cassie want to shrink back, flinch away from him. Which was ridiculous. She wasn’t afraid of Nick. He’d never hurt her.
But Charles would. Charles had. The knowledge was immediate and certain, and Cassie understood what had happened. C.S. Hawkins had taken over Nick, that much was obvious. But Cassie had been taken over too; Sarah was right there with her. Inside her head. Ghostly reinforcements had arrived.
It was confusing inside her brain, like watching two movies at the same time on a split screen. She tried to relax, share the space inside her head, while her instincts struggled against it. C’mon, Sarah. Let’s get him.
Meanwhile, Nick looked coldly smug, an expression that Cassie wanted to slap off his face. “We’re married, love .” He spit out the term of endearment, making a mockery of it. “This house became my property on our wedding day. You became my property.” He stepped forward then, gripping her arm with one strong hand. The Sarah inside Cassie’s head flinched, pulled against his grip, but Cassie just got angry. Nick wasn’t like this; this asshole inside his head was making Nick behave in a way that wasn’t normal, wasn’t natural.
Suddenly, Nick’s head jerked back and he gave a grunt of surprise. He dropped Cassie’s arm and fell behind a step, his hand going to his face, which was suddenly…wet? Cassie whirled to look over her shoulder. Nan stood a few feet away on the other side of the circle, the water pistol trained on Nick.
“Woman!” Nick’s voice was a bark as he wiped water from his eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?” That earned him another squirt to the face, as though he were a cat on the kitchen counter.
“What are you doing?” Cassie echoed the question, but in a harsh whisper.
“Holy water,” Nan said matter-of-factly. “Spirits don’t like it much. At the very least, it got his attention.”
“Because you shot him in the face with a water gun.” This exorcism was getting out of hand. But as she turned to face Nick, his face screwed up in a scowl, she had to admit he looked ridiculous. Water dripped from the end of his nose, and his hair was wet, curling on his forehead. Even the part of Cassie’s head that had been taken over by Sarah felt lighter, less threatened.
It was easy now for Cassie to take control and do the talking for Sarah. “It doesn’t work like that anymore, Chuck .” She mocked his tone of voice, spitting his name, turning it into an expletive. “You’ve been dead for a while, so you’ve missed out on a lot.”
Nick scoffed, his dark eyes flashing. “What are you talking about?” It was creepy to see Nick acting like Not-Nick, but Cassie shook that off. She had more important things to focus on.
“I’m talking about jobs. Women have them now, you know. I can tell that you’re really against it—believe me, I know. This whole stunt with my laptop. What were you trying to prove?”
Nick looked at her like she was an idiot. “I don’t know what that thing is. But you talk to it, you tap on it. You sound like a businessman when you talk to it, you know.” He scoffed again; that seemed to be C.S. Hawkins’s signature move. “You look ridiculous.”
Cassie glanced over her shoulder at Nan. “You can shoot him again.” She leaned away from Nick as Nan took aim, landing three good shots to his forehead. Nan was a sharpshooter with that thing.
Nick looked furious as he raked back his now soaked hair. “Ridiculous,” he said again. “Like a cat wearing a costume.”
“We do that too now, you know.” God, Nan was right; this guy was a dick. “Cats in costumes. I don’t have a cat, though. Maybe I should get one. Get a nice little necktie for it; he’d look great.” From outside the circle, Nan clucked her tongue and Cassie got the message; they were getting off topic. “You really thought if you made my machine not work that I wouldn’t be able to either?”
Not-Nick’s laugh was without mirth. “Why not? It seemed to do the trick.”
“Well, it ends now, old man.” Inside Cassie’s head, Sarah sucked in a frightened breath. It’s okay , she reassured the ghost. Trust me.
“Of course, it doesn’t,” Sarah’s husband said, using Cassie’s boyfriend’s body. “As I’ve said, you are property. This house too, property. Mine. What can you possibly do without your man’s say-so?”
“So many things.” Cassie crossed her arms. “You think I need a man to live my life? Let me tell you what I need a man for: nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I bought this house all on my own.”
There was that damn scoff again. “Impossible.” But there was something happening. A struggle in Nick’s face. Tension in his body. His fists clenched, then slowly relaxed again.
“Keep going.” Nan’s voice was a calm and steady lifeline for Cassie to grab on to. “He hates an independent woman. Piss him off some more. That’s the key.”
Cassie could do that. It was actually kind of fun. “Not impossible.” Her smile was bright and so very fake. “Women can get mortgages these days. I own this place outright.” Well, she would after thirty years of payments, but he didn’t need to know that.
She took a step closer to him, while internally Sarah rebelled. Sarah didn’t want to be any closer to Charles’s spirit than she had to, and Cassie didn’t blame her. But C.S. didn’t want Cassie to come any closer, and what he didn’t want he was going to get.
Sure enough, Not-Nick fell back a step. He held up a hand. “Get away from me, you…”
Cassie raised her eyebrows. “What? What could you possibly call me that would bother me in the least? Do you have any idea how irrelevant you are? Forgotten? After tonight, this house won’t even have your name on it, and your existence will be erased. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers, and Not-Nick flinched. He actually flinched. This was good. She could do this.
“Nobody will talk about you,” she continued. “No one’s going to visit your grave. Hell, no one has in years. No one’s even going to remember your name when this independent woman is finished with you.” She took another step toward him, then another. He backed up as far as he could, but when his foot reached the edge of the circle he stopped, as though his back were against a brick wall. His dark eyes stayed fixed on her, wide, as she stepped up to him, very much in his personal space.
“But you know what I’m going do?” She put her hands up, cupping his face in her palms, her voice a low murmur. “I think I’m going to take out another credit card. Maybe even…” She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, leaned in, and whispered in Not-Nick’s ear, as seductively as she could. “Vote.”
His face went red, mottled with rage, then he sucked in a huge breath. Before Cassie could react, Nick dropped to the floor, boneless.
“Shit!” She dropped down beside him, pulling his head into her lap. Outside of the circle, Sophie and Libby let out identical cries of alarm. For a stunned heartbeat she couldn’t comprehend what had happened. Had she killed him? But Nick’s chest rose and fell under her hand, his heart thumping strongly against her palm. Cassie closed her eyes and let relief flood through her body. C.S. Hawkins was gone. At last.
But then Cassie realized that Sarah was gone too, from inside her head. Outside of the circle, Libby gasped.
“The circle!”
Cassie followed her gaze to where Nick’s booted foot had scuffed the salt and sand circle, breaking it. Alarmed, she turned toward Nan, but she was the only one in the room who was both conscious and unconcerned.
The elderly woman closed her eyes and breathed deep. “He’s gone,” she said finally. “His anger burned him up from the inside out until he couldn’t withstand it.”
“But what about Sarah? She was right here.” Cassie tapped a finger against her temple, and her eyes filled with tears. When she first got here, all she’d wanted was a ghost-free house. But Sarah had become a friend. Had they repaid her by banishing her too? Was she still stuck with her husband? Had Charles managed to keep his hold over Sarah, drag her with him to wherever he’d gone?
But Nan seemed unfazed. “When Nick broke the circle she was free of your head. Simple as that. She’s still here. It’s her house, after all.” Her lips twitched in a smile.
Cassie’s laugh was like a sob, an involuntary heave of her chest. As her barely conscious boyfriend stirred and her friends peered at her inside the remains of a summoning circle, supervised by an octogenarian, Cassie realized that she finally felt at home. The house may be Sarah’s, but it was hers too.
She was home.