Lucky angled his head. “My boy, this entire house is a box with wires coming out of it.”
“Touché.”
Lucky reached out a long, wispy finger. “What do you say, Blissful? Ready to receive your ghost gift? You can hold one spirit, one time, for as long as you wish. I would love to give you the talent of keeping any spirit you want, but that might not be in my best interest, would it?”
“It might not be in mine, either,” I said. “What if I wound up keeping someone that I didn’t like?”
Mischief sparked in Lucky’s eyes. “My thoughts exactly. Ready?”
I wasn’t, but I said that I was. There is no way to be prepared for receiving a ghostly gift. It was chilling right down to the bone.
Lucky swept his ethereal fingers over my hand. His was a pure energy that made every hair on my flesh stand to attention. My muscles went rigid. My spine became taut as he cupped my hand in both of his. My flesh chilled to the point of burning. I bit my lower lip, holding back the grunt that threatened to escape my mouth. Tears bloomed in my eyes as I gnawed my lower lip, doing whatever I could to distract myself.
Roan’s eyes darkened. “You can stop,” he told Lucky.
“Almost done,” Lucky replied.
Roan reached out. I don’t know what he was thinking, because he couldn’t touch Lucky. Maybe it was simply a threat on Roan’s part—alet me get my hands on youkind of thing.
“I said, that’s enough,” Roan demanded.
Lucky’s hold only strengthened. “She has to take a little pain for this.”
A whimper escaped my lips. Roan slammed his hand down on a covered desk. “Stop it or I’ll open a portal to a place where you don’t want to go.”
The pain intensified to white-hot heat. My arm throbbed. My head even hurt as prickles of agony stippled up my neck. I was about to pull my own hand away when, just like that, it stopped.
“There.” Lucky pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hand. “All done.” He shot Roan a scathing look. “See? Nobody was hurt.”
Roan wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t like seeing her in pain.”
“Then you chose the wrong business,” Lucky snapped. “The business of spirits is all about death and pain. The ones who linger on this planet are the troubled ones, those who lived in agony and died the same way. You, Roan Storm, need to learn that or find another business to be in.”
Roan’s cheeks puffed in anger. I pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s okay. I’m all right. No harm done, and I got what I needed.”
“If it works,” he spat.
“Oh, it will work,” Lucky said. “I can guarantee that. When you need the power, just tap your arm here.” He pointed to my left forearm. “That’s where I put the gift. Sorry if that one hurt. It takes a lot of power to be able to hold a spirit, even if it’s only for one time.”
Then Lucky bent over as if hurt.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said weakly. “I’m just an old ghost, that’s all.”
Something was wrong, but he wasn’t saying what. Knowing that he wouldn’t tell me until he was ready, I glanced at my arm, rubbing it. A cold spot sat just below the skin, but that was the only hint that anything had been done to me.
“Thank you,” I said. “Now, will the two of you kiss and make up? I get the feeling it’s going to be a long night in this house and we’re going to wind up needing each other.”
The expression on Roan’s face said that the last thing he wanted to do was kiss and make up, but the look that I gave him suggested that it would be in his best interest.
“Thank you,” he ground out, “for helping Blissful.”
“It’s completely self-serving,” Lucky answered.
I flexed my jaw. “Roan is attempting to apologize. Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
Lucky smirked before floating back toward the wall. “I accept your apology. I will check in later, see how things are going.”
