lunette selene
Shiloh Solair’s chestnut curls fell so beautifully on her muscular shoulders. The fading light from the remaining embers of fire from the hearth made it look as if she were lit from within, like the sun: warm, soul giving, full of charm, so full of life. So full of life for a ghost who’d followed me home from Hollow Graveyard.
After a flash of confusion across her face, she took her hand in mine and interlocked our fingers. “No, Lune. I’m real. This is real.” She squeezed.
I shouldn’t have loved it so much when she called me Lune, but I did. I shouldn’t have liked her as much as I did… but I did. It was impossible not to. Though everything in me told me to cast her out, set her free, I’d come to enjoy her company immensely, and selfishly, I just couldn’t bring myself to send her away. Usually, a ghost’s memory came to, or they simply faded away or moved on. Occasionally, if they were stuck against their will, they had a proclivity for drifting toward darkness… butthere wasn’t a hint of dark in Shiloh. No, she was good, and she was much different from a common ghost.
With a sigh, I cupped her face. “Youarea ghost, Shiloh Solair. You were born on October thirty-first, nineteen seventy-two, and you died on July ninth… about three months ago. On the same night Alaric died. You were, and are, the graveyard keeper of Hollow. Beloved by many?—“
“Stop it. This is nonsense. How can I touch and move then? I’m not floating around mumbling to myself like the spirits in the cemetery.”
“You’re a marvel,” I replied. “The only thing I can find of something like you in any of my spellbooks is a section on poltergeists. You’re like… the strongest, realest sort of ghost. You can feel, move through the world, and interact with others, but you are not alive… and eventually you will need to choose to move on.”
“Move on?”
“To the afterlife.”
An ember popped from the dying flames, and Shiloh looked over, her expression contemplative. “There are sapphires all over the floor of your kitchen. Whatever was after Jilly is now taunting you.”
“Oh.” Worry pressed on my shoulders. “I’ll refresh my protective wards tomorrow. That should keep everything unwanted out.”
Shiloh nodded, looking unconvinced. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know. Thank you.” I squeezed her hand. “Do you want to talk? Ask questions? Is there anything I can do?—“
“No.” She cut me off. “Can I just hold you, please?”
My heart fluttered in my chest. Shiloh felt so good, so real… yet she wasn’t. She was dead, and eventually, her soul would move on to the afterlife—whether she chose to or not—the spirit world would come for her and usher her home. I had no idea how much time she’d have in this realm. It could be a day, or it could be fifty more years. Regardless, I couldn’t get attached to her—and I was more worried about getting attached than I was about some sapphire-killer. What’s worse is as my heart was tugging me toward Shiloh, I also had a responsibility to Alaric. He’d asked me to marry him, and I’d said yes. We hadn’t made it to a marriage ceremony, we’d walked no aisle in a church, we’d only just sent out wedding invitations when he died. However, a promise from a white witch was no small thing. My word, my promise, my affections, they were as binding as any certificate of marriage granted by either state or priest. His means of leaving the world was as terrible as Shiloh’s… murder.
I owed Alaric Lonesome all the spells in my toolkit to try to bring him back.
I loved him.
I did… love him… right?
Shiloh pulled me into her sunlight-warm embrace, and I nuzzled into her chest.They are problems for sorting tomorrow. Wrapping my arms around her tight, like I had so many times since first meeting her, I said a silent intention that she would still be here when I woke up.
I sent a silent plea to the universe to not take her from me just yet.
Please let her stay a little longer.
Please, please, please.
I’d encountered a fair many ghosts and spirits in my days as a witch. Much like living and breathing people, some were nice, some not-so-nice. I couldn’t say I knew what to expect, however, from informing a poltergeist of their condition. You know, telling them they are indeed dead—but I certainly didn’t expect to wake up to find her in the kitchen making me breakfast.
The cats had been fed, a few stragglers still lapping at their teacups.
No sapphires were on the ground.
Maybe she’d dreamt it up, or it had been a vision. Ghosts’ perceptions were not always the same as those in the human realm. Maybe I hadn’t heard anything at all. Regardless, I decided not to mention it as she slid a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of me at the counter. I leaned against the marble as I watched her flip two more for her own leaning stacksof fluffy confection. “Did you sleep well?” I eased, cutting my pancake with a fork.
“Like a baby.” She smiled, flipping another onto her plate. “Which is kind of a strange saying, if you think about it. Babies don’t sleep well at all from what I’ve heard.”
I giggled. “No, I suppose they don’t.”
I sent a silent thank you to the heavens that Shiloh was still here. At least I had one more day with her. And hopefully one more, and one more, and one more…
“Ouch!” Shiloh yelped, shaking her hand. Crimson blood dotted the ivory countertop. “Sliced my finger cutting bananas.”She shrugged, noticing my fixation on the red. Taking her wrist, I inspected the blood trickling from her knuckle. How sophisticated a poltergeist was she that blood rushed through her veins? No wonder Dr. Jekal lost control at the opportunity to examine her. As only a mere witch, I was resisting the urge to do the same. Why, I wondered what a drop of her blood could do to aid spellwork or potions… My every intent was to wrap her cut in a bandage; instead, instinctually, I brought her finger to my lips. Slowly, I sucked her fingertip into my mouth, welcoming her to slide against my tongue. The tang of her blood pricked my senses. Shiloh’s eyes hooded, and her mouth parted as a small groan escaped her lips.
