The planchette slid again, slowly, deliberately. My stomach tightened. I laughed, because that’s what my brain did when it was two seconds from panic.
Cristian leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Something is wrong.”
“Oh, great,” I said. “The immortal bloodsucker says something is wrong. That’s comforting.”
Before anyone could move, the board vibrated under our hands, and the candles went out. Darkness rushed in. Then came a sound from upstairs—a loud crack, like something heavy falling.
Lena screamed. I grabbed the table. Cristian was already beside me before I could blink. He caught my hand, pulling me back against his chest as glass shattered somewhere near the window.
The bond between us flared, hot and alive. My fear melted under it, replaced by something that made it hard to breathe.
“Don’t worry about me,” Lena said, her voice wobbly. “I’m fine. Really fine. Just stay where you are.”
Cristian’s arm tightened around me. “The air shifted,” he murmured against my ear. “That was no friendly ghost.”
“Comforting,” I whispered. My voice didn’t sound like my own.
Lena peeked over the table and saw us. “Oh my god. Are you two seriously doing this right now?”
“What?” I said, still pressed to Cristian’s chest.
“This whole smoldering, bodyguard-meets-bonded-lovers thing. It’s unholy. Get a room. Or don’t.” She grinned, half-hysterical. “Actually, go ahead, I wouldn’t mind watching.”
“Lena,” I hissed.
Cristian looked down at me. His gaze was unreadable, his lips too close. “Your friend is unwell.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I like them a little crazy.”
He didn’t move. Neither did I. The house creaked again. “I am a third-grade teacher. I am not qualified for ghost management. Fix it, Lena!”
Lena exhaled loudly. “Okay. Séance over. Spirits, go back to your haunted nine-to-five or whatever you do.”
Cristian’s hand stayed around my waist, firm and protective. “Next time, ask permission before you invite the dead.”
Lena blinked. “From you or from them?”
“Both,” he said.
The air in the room shifted again, but it was less tense this time. The candles steadied. The house seemed to exhale and settle back into its usual haunted peace.
Lena let out a breath. “Well, that was mildly traumatizing.” She looked around at the extinguished candles and broken glass. “Ten out of ten ambiance, though.”
Cristian released me slowly, his hand falling away like he’d just remembered it was still there. The warmth lingered.
No one spoke for a moment. Then Lena clapped her hands once. “Okay. Spirits appeased, trauma logged.” Her phone buzzed. She groaned as she checked the screen. “Ugh. Work. Apparently, sick people refuse to schedule their hospital visits around my social life.” She stood and stretched. “Well, I’ll leave you two to your weird tension and unspoken feelings. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Cristian frowned. “That eliminates nothing.”
“Exactly,” she said, grabbing her purse.
Once she was gone, the house felt quieter. Cristian held my gaze for just a second too long. Something danced there?—
I cleared my throat. “So, how are your toenails holding up?”
He looked down at his feet and sighed. “It’s tragic.”
I smiled. “You’ll survive.”
