My eyes wander over to the corner of the room and I sigh. This place is massive. I have no idea why the estate people would choose this over some one bedroom apartment in the city where I can actually walk places. Not that I would, probably… but it was kind of nice to have the option. “So what’s the deal with this place? Why is it empty and why did someone leave all their crap?”
Gabbi gives me a half smile and leans her head back against the couch. “It’s kind of sad actually. The last official owner was an immigrant from Ireland, Tavish Gunn. He ran an antique store out of the house right up until a month or two before hedied—not in this house, by the way.” Gabbi gives me a cheeky look before she continues, “He had no living family so the house went to auction and that’s when your family purchased it. My dad’s company has been managing it ever since.”
I choke on my spit and bolt upright, “What do you mean, my family bought it? When? How? My parents have been dead for twelve years, and my granny even longer than that.” My heart is racing and my palms start to sweat. How did I not know this?Because you stopped asking questions a long time ago.I curse at my stupidity and wonder at how many other things I don’t know.
Gabbi lifts her head from the couch in confusion and gives me a look of surprise, “You mean you didn’t know? How can you not know that if you know the terms of the contract?” Horror takes over her face and she gasps, “Dios mio, Trissa… I would have told you if I thought even for a second that you didn’t know!”
I groan and shake my head, “It’s my fault. I should have asked more questions. I’ve been trying so hard for so long to just forget everything. We have a system. They tell me the bare minimum and I just do whatever they tell me I need to in order to keep having them pay for shit."
Gabbi sits up straight and her jaw hangs open in shock. It’s quickly replaced by a stony expression though, and I know she’s about to lay into me. “Trissa Elowyn Wilde!” Her face is flushed with anger and I feel my own start to heat with shame. “This ends today. Tomorrow when your head is on straight you’re gonna call those damn people and find out every little last detail of information that you can.” She huffs out a breath and continues, “All I know is that after the six-month stay that’s required by the contract that your estate has with my family’s company, this house is set to be deeded over to you.” Gabbi rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the ceiling. “You’re the only twenty-something year old I know who will be the homeowner ofa small mansion, and you don’t even know the full terms of your contract!”
My stomach swoops and I try to swallow around the lump in my throat. Oh fuck. What if the estate dissolves or something after the contract is fulfilled? I’ve never not had someone managing the details of my life. I don’t even have any of my account numbers. I’ve never paid a bill. I don’t know how to be a grown up. Who the fuck thought this was a good plan? Fear grips me and I feel anxiety course under my skin with that itchy vibrating sensation that I’ve come to despise.
I look around at the room to distract myself and take in the dark wallpaper with accents of pears, flowers, and birds. There is an ornate wood-framed fireplace on the wall in front of the couch and the wood detailing is continued throughout the room. Holy shit. This place isnice. I guess the magic couch should have been a dead giveaway. I run my hand against the velvety orange fabric and look back at Gabbi, “So… exactly what kind of house is this?”
She deflates at my topic change and sucks at her teeth before smiling gently, “It’s a Queen Anne Victorian built in 1888.” She looks around at the room before turning her focus back to me. “And apparently it comes complete with a ghost hot enough for you to flick your bean to in the middle of the day.” She waggles her eyebrows at me and slaps my thigh teasingly.
I groan and turn my hands in, pushing the backs against my heated face. “You’ve really never seen him before?”
Gabbi’s eyes are wide and she shakes her head, “Uhmm, no. You know I love you, but I would one thousand percent not have taken this listing if I had seen an actual ghost.”
I roll my eyes as I picture his gorgeous green ones and try not to obsess over the fact that I have the hots for a paranormal entity. “But you’ve felt him before.”
Gabbi laughs and purses her lips, “Not like you have, chicka.”
“Gabbi!” I giggle and push some stray wisps of my blue hair behind my ear. “So, it would probably not be super smart to like, try to get him to show up again? Right?” I bite my lip and my brows scrunch with my ambivalence.
Gabbi’s eyes go out of focus as she stares off into the corner of the room and she takes a breath shaky with concern, “I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop him now.”
Fuck. She’s probably right.
Chapter three
Chat with Death
Cian
Two faintly glowing blue orbs are all that can be distinguished within the swirling pure black shadow underneath Death’s hood. They tower over my six-foot height by at least a foot and I wonder briefly at what exactly, if anything, is under their kaleidoscope of fabric and shadow.
“Well? Get on with it. What do you want, pal?”
I glower at them, probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but we’ve already established they can’t take my soul, so really it’s not as ballsy as it may seem.
“I need some answers and you’re the only one I could think of to ask, considering you’re the only one who’s been able to talk to me since I died.” I fidget with my hands, feeling desperate and awkward at having to beg for help.
Death’s orbs narrow into what I assume is a squint. They let out a scoffing sound that would send chills down the spine of a living being, and cross their arms in agitation. “Oh ho ho, looketh how the tables doth turn. I try to help you when you’re freshly dead and I can’t even get a full explanation out beforeyouban mefrom your stupid house. Dick move, by the way, seeing as witch-bounds and Reapers are like peanut butter and bananas.”
“Don’t you mean peanut butter and jelly?”
“No, Mr. I-like-to-make-assumptions, I mean bananas. Have you ever had a PB&B? They’re delicious.”
My eyebrow quirks and I rub my jaw in confusion. This is not the way I saw this conversation going, and Death is nothing like what I thought a soul Reaper would be. Something they said sticks in my mind and I frown. “Wait, go back. What’s a witch-bound?”
Death laughs and I watch in fascination as their orbs flare before spinning in a circle. Did… they just roll their eyes at me?
“Very funny, man. Look can you just skip to the part where you ask me to do something and then I politely duck the fuck out?”
“Death, please… I swear I’m not fucking around.” My eyes sting and turn pleading. “What is a witch-bound?”
