“Gross but poetic,” Talia added. “Like, be gone, spirit! Be gone with my hemoglobin!”
That had us laughing lightly.
“Wait, wait,” Talia said through laughter. “It also says, if it doesn’t leave, then the ghost has chosen you.”
That stopped me cold…chosen me?
“Who is making this shit up and putting it on the internet for fuck sake?” Mara laughed, and I laughed with them, but I couldn’t ignore the tightness I felt in my chest, and how the words burned themselves somewhere deep.
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed, forcing a smile into my voice. “Next they’ll ask you to sleep with garlic under your pillow.”
“That’s for chasing vampires away!” Talia corrected, laughing. “But who knows, maybe adding some chili peppers while you’re at it won’t hurt.”
We all laughed until tears ran down my cheeks. For the first time in a long time, it felt easy, light, and so good. We finally said our goodbyes, with me promising to call them every day until I’m back. For once I was looking forward to that, which was big, because I never looked forward to things.
I sat there, staring at my phone, the words echoing in my head.‘If you feel a ghost’s presence, use your blood to chase it away.’Maybe that was it, maybe it wanted something, or someone, and if I wasn’t the one, I’d make sure it never came near me again.
I wanted it to never come near me again, right? Right! That train of thought was stupid, but how could I not think about it? The memory of last night still lingered in the air around me, in my skin, my blood. I could still feel its hands, its voice, the way it had me until I felt alive. I shouldn’t be thinking this, it was absolutely stupid, and I wasn’t going to wait for it to happen again.
So I got up, with my heart pounding, and my bare feet making soft sounds against the polished wood floor as I went into my room in search of the dagger I’d brought with me. It was the one Max gave me…the one I had used as the key to ending it all. Why I had brought it with me, I still didn’t know, but I was glad I did. Maybe this time, it would save me.
“I’ll be ready this time,” I murmured as I ran my thumb along the flat of the blade.
The problem now was visibility. How would I be certain where it was? Last time, I’d only seen the footprints because of the mud. I needed something thick, sticky, something that would hold an imprint.
I sprinted to the kitchen to search, but came up with nothing. The storage room was next on my search, even the shed, butboth came up empty. Cursing under my breath, I stopped and tried to think of something I could use. Then it hit me. The jam!
In the old warehouse at the back of the property, rows of drums stood stacked to the ceiling, relics of Dad’s business. Strawberry, raspberry, plum, all sweet, thick, and crimson. It was perfect, exactly what I needed. The storm outside hadn’t returned yet, but the sky looked bruised with it, so I had to act fast. I dragged one of the jam drums to the edge of the living room and pried the lid open. The scent hit me instantly; sugary, fermented, and a little too sweet. I dipped a hand in, and the cold goo slid over my skin like blood.
“This’ll do,” I whispered, half-laughing to myself.
I started spreading it across the floor, near the windows, and from the main door to the couch in the living room, where I’d be sitting and waiting. Red streaks stuck against the polished wood, like a ritual paint, and my heart hammered in my chest, but it wasn’t from fear anymore. It was adrenaline, anticipation, and dare I say…it was an invitation.
I paused and looked around the house, which smelled like sugar and madness. I should’ve been scared, I should’ve been calling my brother again to tell him I was leaving. Instead, I felt alive, excited, and like I was going into a battle knowing I would very much win.
“Come on, then,” I said into the empty air, my voice echoing. “If you’re real, if you came for me…then come again.”
The dagger gleamed under the dim light as I lifted it.
“I’ll show you what blood can do.”
Chapter Seven
Elena
It was almost nine whenI finally settled on the couch, after showering, eating, and making sure my plans were set in motion. Now, I sat in front of the TV as it flickered with the soft light of a Christmas rom-com. It was the kind of movie where everyone falls in love under fake snow and twinkling fairy lights. I’d seen it a hundred times, maybe more, but something about Christmas rom-coms during Christmas always hit differently. But tonight, I wasn’t fully watching, part of me just needed the noise, something to drown out the creaks and sighs of the house.
My legs were tucked under a blanket, my hair still damp from the shower, and the mug of hot chocolate that had long gone cold sat half-empty on the table. Beside it, sat my“arsenal.”A flashlight, my brother’s dagger, and the courage I’d been building all day. The strawberry jam trap was already laid out around me; the thick, red, goo glistening under the lamp’s glow. The bowl I’d used to spread it still sat in the sink, streaked with pink, sticky sugar. I’d been ready since eight, telling myself I’dstay awake all night if I had to.
But time…time had other plans.
At first, it was easy. The movie played in the background; the heroine was baking cookies with her impossibly perfect boyfriend, and I even caught myself smiling at one point. Then the clock struck ten, then eleven, and slowly the lights became too soothing, making my body relax, and my eyelids heavier.
Was all of this just some stupid idea? Was me surviving my first attempt at death somehow messing with my brain? The more I let myself drift away, the more I doubted everything that had happened to me the past 24 hours.
“Nothing’s happening,” I murmured, half to myself, half to the empty room. “You’re losing it, Elena. Completely losing it.”
The fireplace crackled, and the TV hummed softly. I let out a shaky laugh. “Ghosts. Right.” It wasn’t coming for me again. Last night might’ve been real, but it wasn’t coming back for me.
