The demon covered me.
Something heavy forms in my throat that I don’t know how to process. Everything else in the dilapidated room is unchanged.
Swallowing, I get to work. I flip open the book, take several tries to grip the chalk, then get to drawing. The matches have long disappeared, so I have to hope that the existence of the candles is enough.
From here, all that’s left is to recite the ancient words that I’m still just as terrible at pronouncing.
Nothing happens on the first go.
Nor the second.
I’m doubtful anything will happen on the third. After all, I’m dead. What power can a ghost hold? Summoning that pretty demon was a freak accident anyway.
But the temperature drops on the fourth attempt.
The Latin words hang heavy in the air as a cloud of condensation puffs from my lips for the first time since I’ve died. My voice becomes a ragged croak as I continue chanting the incantation. It’s the only sound amongst the silence.
By the sixth time, the shadows move. Smoke swirls between my legs and over my corpse, into the middle of the circle.
My heart hammers against my chest. Nerves and excitement make my head heavy. No amount of time or practice will ever prepare me to see my sister again.
What if she hates me? What if she doesn’t want to hear my apologies? Ella isn’t that type of person, but maybe the afterlife has changed her. Maybe?—
A figure forms before my eyes. Just like that night, it’s nothing more than darkness that shifts and molds until there’s a silhouette. It keeps heightening and widening—far too large to be Ella. I was taller than her, but the thing appearing before me is at least a head taller than me. The shadows slowly shape into a male.
Oh no.
Ohnonononononono.
A realization hits me: I forgot to use Ella’s dagger.
My panic slowly recedes as the man is painted in color, and I have to blink a few times to make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me because this being doesn’t belong anywhere near this type of setting.
His golden locks cascade over his shoulders and down his back in messy waves, one side tucked behind his ear, which has a gold sleeper earring in it. He wears creamy linen pants with a ripat the knee and a blue dress shirt, half unbuttoned to reveal the crystal necklace nestled amongst the blonde hairs on his chest.
My mouth hangs open. Who the actual fuck did I just summon?
The man’s dewy green eyes brighten when they land on me, and the best way to describe the true magnitude of just how much light flashes behind his eyes and how wide his smile is, is that he’s like a golden retriever being offered a treat.
And this big puppy checks me out with all the subtlety of a freight train.
“Ayo, hello. Look at you.” He nods approvingly. “The name’s Tony. Six foot two up top and seven inches below. Single-ish. I like to think of myself as easygoing and hard elsewhere.” He holds out his hand, which has at least two rings on every finger. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I’m too shocked to be disappointed by the current outcome.
I stare at his hand then back up at him and accept the handshake.
My parents would’ve hated him just for how he looks, but Father would’ve loathed him for his weak handshake. By virtue, this man instantly deserves the benefit of the doubt, something I believe most people shouldn’t get.
I glance around the room, internally cringing at the sight of my corpse, despite the fact that it’s covered. I shift so he doesn’t see it and start asking questions I don’t want to answer. “I’m, uh, looking for Ella?”
“Who?” Tony’s many bracelets jingle as he lowers his arms.
“My sister.”
“Oh, yo. I had one of those. She was the working-for-the-man type, so we never vibed. She’d say blue, I’d say yellow, and she—oh and she had so muchstuff. Like she didn’t need so many things, but she was always obsessed with buying more and more and more.”
I blink. “Uh, okay?”
