Gem wiped sweat from her brow, her white T-shirt damp and her sweatpants drooping. “Did the costumes arrive? It’s not too late to change them.”
Christian leaned against the wall. “They’re upstairs.”
She sulked. “I’m going to look like a fool. A short girl with purple hair in a heavy kilt.”
I bit my lip and turned to Niko. “How will you be able to find us?”
“No two people have the same energy. If others are flaring, it’ll be difficult but not impossible.” He raised his arm and took a whiff. “I need to shower, or else I won’t need a special outfit for you to locate me.”
“I second that,” Gem said. “I smell like a pig farm in the middle of July.”
Niko strode ahead of her and held the door as they left the room.
We still had another four hours or so before the party, so I strolled over to the target board to practice my throwing.
“Do you want me to sharpen your weapons before we leave?” Shepherd asked.
“I don’t think they’ve ever been sharpened. That would be great.”
“When you’re done in here, leave ’em on the kitchen table, and I’ll take care of it.” Shepherd had on a tight black shirt with short sleeves. He never tried hiding the scars on his body, nor were they a topic of conversation.
They just were.
I grabbed three daggers from a table and stood beside Wyatt. “Is your friend gone?”
He threw a knife, and it went outside the black line. “So says Christian. I’ll find out soon enough, but it’s been quiet around here. Too quiet.”
I tossed a knife, hitting the mark. “I thought you didn’t like all the ghosts following you around.”
He threw another dagger, and the handle hit the wall. “Blast!” He went to collect the dagger from the floor and bent down. “I guess I forgot what it’s like to have privacy. I’m so used to them being around every corner and creeping up on me in my sleep that the silence is almost unnerving.”
Christian strode up and stood to the right of the board, arms folded as Wyatt returned to my side. “We can always swing by the cemetery on the way home and find you a girlfriend.”
Wyatt threw his knife, and Christian didn’t flinch when it struck the board an inch from his cheek. “Don’t come knocking on my door for help if you ever die.”
“Worry not. I’ll be too busy entertaining the ladies of the afterlife.”
Wyatt snorted and pinched the front of his blue T-shirt to circulate some air. “Have fun with that. Most of them are one crayon short of a box.”
“So how did Wyatt’s ghost know you?” I asked Christian.
His black eyes lowered, and his expression switched to something I couldn’t read. “Just a man who loved a girl.” He pushed off the wall and gave me a pointed stare. “You see where love gets you?”
I glared as he walked by me. That remark had more to do with my dating Detective Glass than it did about his general opinions on love and marriage. Maybe he had a point. Opening up to someone was only going to make me vulnerable. It had almost gotten me killed.
When the door burst open, I spun around.
Gem dashed toward us, her hair bouncing in the air as she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Wyatt’s neck. Her feet hung off the ground, and he held her up, stirring with laughter.
“What’s this about?”
“IknewI shouldn’t have doubted you.” She squeezed his neck even tighter. “The costumes are divine!”
“Oh ye of little faith.”
Gem let go, and her bare feet hit the ground. She looked so much shorter without her tall shoes on—about seven inches shorter than Wyatt, who was the shortest man in the house at five-eleven.
She whirled around and flashed out of the room.
