“What’s yours?” I said, shocked. “It’s not yours at all. You lost your soul when you handed it over to him. As far as I’m concerned, it belongs to my dad. You lost your right to it.”
“He wasn’t supposed to keep it this long,” Lucky growled. “We had terms. Did you think I’d give my soul up for the rest of my life? You’re out of your mind if you believe that. He was only supposed to keep it for one week, just long enough to—”
“Long enough to what?”
Lucky’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Long enough to see you.”
My breath left me in a heavy sigh that I felt all the way to my toes. “He wanted to see me?”
“That’s why he took it—to make contact with you.”
“Then why didn’t he?” I asked. “Why didn’t he take the soul and find me immediately?”
Lucky picked a sliver of tobacco from his tongue and let it drop to the floor. “How should I know? I didn’t ask him his plans. He got the prize, and now it’s my turn to have it back. Only, he’s not giving. In case you’ve forgotten, that’s why I hired you. You made a promise, Blissful Breneaux, to return my soul to me, and I expect you to keep it. Otherwise, those on the other side will be very angry at you.”
Roan scoffed. “What? Are you threatening her?”
“No,” Lucky said in a hard voice. “I’m explaining that if she doesn’t deliver what was promised, she will pay for it. You can’t cheat the dead, Blissful. You should know that.”
Before either of us could utter another word, Lucky disappeared into the wall lined with books.
“Why didn’t my father give the soul back?” I searched Roan’s face for answers. “Why would he have done that?”
Roan rubbed his chin. “He was already strong with the second soul. Why not simply visit you and then leave?”
It hurt to know that my father could have, at any time in the past few days or even weeks, come to visit me, but had chosen not to. Clearly he possessed the power to do so, but something had stopped him. What?
I scratched my forehead. “I feel like such an idiot. You were right; I shouldn’t have trusted Lucky so easily.”
Roan pulled me into a hug, and all I could smell were the scents of cinnamon and gingerbread that clung to his shirt and skin. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, killer. It’s Christmas. You miss your dad. I miss my parents, too. The holidays are hard enough without having to blame yourself for something that you shouldn’t be blaming yourself for at all.”
I wiped a stray tear that plunged down my face. “But we fought at the séance. I insisted he return the soul to Lucky. I trusted Lucky when…” Who was I supposed to trust now?
“When you shouldn’t have trusted any of them?” Roan suggested.
A bitter laugh welled up in my throat. “Exactly. I should have minded my own business. And now, if I don’t get that soul back for Lucky, he will literally make my life a living nightmare.”
Roan’s eyes hardened. “Oh, we’ll get the soul back. Don’t worry about that. Even if we don’t, any spirit who comes for you will have to go through me first.”
I smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For supporting me.”
“Of course I support you. You’re about to be my wife. Or at least you will be once we set a date, and you get a dress, and maybe we get Alice and Ruth a couple of dresses. And you know, invite some people to the wedding and hire a pastor and all that other stuff.”
I elbowed his ribs. “Okay, okay. We get out of this alive and we’ll set a date.”
“Finally,” he said to the ceiling. “She said yes, and now she’ll actually commit.”
“I’m committed,” I said scornfully.
He cocked a brow. “But now you’re really committed.”
“Sometimes it just takes me a little longer, that’s all.”
“So I noticed.” Roan pulled away from our embrace and wagged a finger in thought. “But why would you keep someone else’s soul? What use would you have for it?”
