Passing by my chair, he said, “You were right about Luna.”
I turned around and looked up at the giant.
“She goes in a lot easier when I take her riding.” He smiled, stacked my plate on his, and walked out.
Virgil laced his fingers together and stared across the table at me. His turquoise eyes were electric in the candlelight, and when he smiled, a dimple appeared on his cheek. He had a youthful attractiveness like a musician and probably made a lot of women swoon.
He arched his eyebrows at me. “The lady has a pressing question. What’s on your mind, sugarplum?”
“I was wondering if I could look around. It’s a beautiful home, and I was curious about the rest. But if that’s not appropriate?—”
Virgil chuckled and stood. “Come with me. I’ll give you the tour.”
“I’ll chaperone,” Archer volunteered while rising from his seat.
I followed them through the kitchen, and we entered the center hallway.
“Are you always so polite?” Virgil asked.
“What do you mean?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “You asked permission to use the bathroom.”
I cupped my elbows when we entered the dark living room. Virgil was barefoot, and because of the humidity, I could hear his feet sticking to the floor.
“You’ve seen the artsy-fartsy room where you do yoga.” Virgil waved me toward an open archway that led into another room opposite the fireplace. “This is where we have the most arguments.” He switched on a light to a spacious yet empty room and said, “Welcome to the game room. A couple of us want a full bar, but Tak?—”
“Doesn’t want to turn his house into a pub,” Archer finished, jabbing Virgil in the ribs.
“Some of uslikebooze,” Virgil grumbled as he dramatically opened a wooden sliding door on the opposite wall. “And feast your eyes on ourmagnifiqueathenaeum.”
I gasped when I entered the grandest private library I’d ever laid eyes on. It surpassed my father’s with its floor-to-ceiling shelves, rolling ladders, stunning wood floors, and dim shelf lights.
Drawing in a deep breath, the air fragrant with wood and old paper, I relaxed as a feeling of peace washed over me.
Virgil sat in the only chair and crossed his legs, his knees poking out of the rips in his jeans. “Why didn’t we make this into a skating rink? A shiny little disco ball in the center, retro music, colorful lights…”
“Because then you wouldn’t havethis.” I scanned the shelves, which were only thirty percent filled. “My father would have lived in here.” I strode to the other side of the room and read the labels. “Sometimes I wonder if he’s a ghost. Perhaps he’s curious what I’m doing with my life.”
Virgil reclined his head. “If you had a phantasm attached to you, believe me, you’d know it.”
“How?” I pulled a medical book out and flipped through the pages.
“Do you ever do things that seem against your will?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Do the lights ever flicker?” Virgil asked. “Or your electronics go out? Power surges?”
“Not unless it’s raining.”
“I rest my case. Those are all clear signs of a specter.” He raised his head and examined his fingernails. “Most of them move on when they die. The ones that linger are a nuisance and wreak havoc. The way things were going with your boyfriend, I’m certain if your fatherwerefloating around in the afterlife, he would have located a Gravewalker and paid them to do unconscionable things.”
“Paid with what? How can a ghost pay for anything?”
Virgil rose to his feet. “Because immortals have living friends who owe them. Because many of us hide valuables in secret places. There are ways for the dead to pay the living.” He collected the book from my hand. “Ever wake up with a song in your head—especially an oldie or one you don’t listen to, like an old show tune? Fun fact: that’s them. Sometimes they’re trying to communicate through lyrics; other times they just like fucking with us. Why does your nose always tickle when your hands are full? Hmm?” Virgil slid the book back into its spot and gave me an impish grin. “When they’re close, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.”
“All right, that’s enough ghost stories,” Archer cut in. He gripped Virgil by the back of the neck and led him to the open archway at the back of the room. “Time for bed, Taz. And quit shifting in the shower. Last night was the third time I had to get your wolf out of there.”
