It was like a bunch of shimmers rained through me, but I told myself not to get excited. I wouldn’t be asking him to be my sweetheart anytime soon just because I’d seen him looking at me with the kind of glance that said he was a little fascinated.
A little… No, not smitten. Fascinated was a much better description.
Those shimmers stayed with me as I moved in back of him again, while he checked his computer connections because of the fritzing, then switched to another picture. This one was more of the same, except it was taken when I’d clearly decided that having a camera aimed at me wasn’t a good thing and I was heading for the exit.
The last one showed my essence halfway under the door. Subtle. Yup, that’s what I was.
“If you’re going to haunt, commit to it.”
I didn’t like Twyla much, but she was right.
I flattened my essence like a hand, then leaned down, hovering only a micrometer away from Gavin’s skin, letting him know I was here.
The fine hairs at his hairline prickled.
He stood, and I eased away from him, stretching myself so that I was as tall as he was, mocking his shape. I was in his face, staring right into those eyes.
I dare you to say something, I thought.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” he asked between his teeth.
Yeah, he was a brave one, wasn’t he? I could feel only a trace of adrenaline from him, but not exactly fear. Mostly, I could vibe that he was on an edge, like he was clinging to it before losing his grip.
Was he remembering the dream he’d had yesterday at the office? Or did he at least know, subconsciously, what had happened in it, and he was carrying around a deep, dark feeling of dread because of my visitation?
Inspiration filled me as I saw the cell phone he’d set on the far side of his desk. I smiled, even though he couldn’t see my face. Then I extended myself toward the phone, sending my energy to it, making it ring.
Easy peasy.
Instead of a regular ring, the song from Peter Gunn played. Dun-dun-dah-dun-dah-dun-dah-dun…
Just as I thought Gavin might reach out to feel the air in front of him, confronting his invisible tormentor, he backed off, getting the phone without even checking the ID screen.
Concentrating, I thought of Elizabeth’s laugh—what it had sounded like, clear and musical.
It echoed over the static on the phone.
He pulled the device away from his ear, terror etching itself into his expression. Now there was some fear in him, and I ate it up. Wanting more, I made the phantom voice speak.
“Gavin… ?” Elizabeth sounded warped, utterly inhuman, like she was talking from under the dirt of a grave. “Why, Gavin?”
He turned off the call.
Yeah. Good try, babe.
I made the phone ring again. Dun-dun-dah-dun-dah-dun-dah-dun…
He merely stared at it as the music wore on. But I just knew he wouldn’t let it go.
He turned it on, and before I could start in, he said, “Who the fuck is this?”
His tone was jagged, and I liked that, too. I shivered with his rising anger and fear.
“Tell them the truth,” I had Elizabeth say in her cemetery voice. “Please.”
“Whoever this is, the joke stops now. Fuck off.”
I made Elizabeth weep, long, drawn-out sobs that caused Gavin to close his eyes and cover his face before he clicked off the call again.
This time he shut off the phone altogether.
Undeterred, I made it ring once more.
He stared at it like it was an intruder, shadowing his every move. Then he walked away from the desk, toward the sliding glass door, running his hand through his short hair.
Dun-dun-dah-dun-dah-dun-dah-dun…
He darted over to the phone, picked it up, went to the sliding glass window, opened it, then hurled the phone to the balcony floor.
Pieces flew off the balcony, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He crushed the rest of the phone under his bootheel, backing off when he thought that was sufficient.
But was it? Hmm. I don’t think so. I put all my strength into trying to make it ring again. It wasn’t hard, either, thanks to his fear.
The remnants of the phone rang, weakly, like a woman crying out during her last, blood-soaked moments.
He picked up what was left of the phone and, in a fit of fury, chucked it so far that it arced over the edge of the property and into oblivion.
Well. Someone had a temper. And I’d seen signs of guilt and torn emotion that were undeniable. All of those were just pieces of his puzzle, though, and I still had to fit them together.
As he leaned on the balcony railing, his head down, I checked myself. He’d shut off his fear, just like that, and a bit of energy leaked out of me. Was it because I’d exerted myself so much and, without his fear, I got sapped?
My ghost friends had been right when they said that communicating was a bruiser. The first time I’d whispered in Elizabeth’s voice to Gavin a few nights ago, I hadn’t been very loud, and a phone hadn’t been involved. But tonight had been Advanced Ghost Trick Time, and my essence had paid a small price.
Yet no matter how much gas I’d burned, this was the perfect time to get into Gavin’s head. He wasn’t sleeping, so I couldn’t go dream-digging, but I’d already worked him up enough so that I didn’t need a hallucination, either.
So I went for empathy.
He was still on the balcony, grasping the stone railing. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows, so I could see the veins standing away from his skin.
I touched his cheek softly, taking care that I didn’t go into hallucination territory, and after tumbling into his thoughts, I got my bearings, joining the stream of his consciousness.
Elizabeth laughing, just as she had been on the phone tonight, but now her blue eyes were sparkling as she looked at the diamond ring on her finger. “It’s beautiful, Gav. Just as pretty as the rest of our lives will be…”
A crash of emotion, the sight of Elizabeth on another day, giving that ring back. Then her piercing words, running into each other: “Fell out of love… Someone else… A woman…”
Another stab of emotion, a cut to darkness, the sound of Elizabeth crying…
The sudden sight of Elizabeth desperately hitting him, the bruises she left on his arms, his chest, his face. Elizabeth, accidentally scratching her face as she flailed.
Rage building up, up, more and more—
Then there was nothing, because Gavin had pulled away from me, alert now, going back inside his room with his hands fisted by his sides.
I barely made it inside before he forcefully shut the glass door.
He glanced at his computer, where the final picture Wendy had taken was still on-screen amid static. But in that photo, I’d already gone under the door.
“Elizabeth?” he asked, turning away from the table. “Is it you?”
The fear was back. I had him halfway to where I needed him. Maybe a confession would even be around the corner. I thought of materializing to him, seeing if I could pull off looking like Elizabeth, but then he started talking.
“God, what I am saying? There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
Parrying, I conjured her perfume, just as I’d done that first night, and that jolted him, all right.
“Why’re you here?” he asked, his voice a wreck.
“My death…”
I’d spoken like her, but it was harder to do now, after expelling energy on the phone call and then the empathy. He wasn’t so scared that he could fill me all the way up with his fear again.