Page 21 of Her Ghostly Embrace
Maybe she should have given Aurora a chance to speak before running away.
IfAurora was real, and that was a big if. She probably wasn’t.
Gia only entertained the idea because hallucinations were the scariest possible option, and given her luck, the worst-case scenario would turn out to be the truth. It figured she’d imagine a gorgeous woman. She was so lonely that she was being haunted by the idea of a girlfriend. Seriously, fuck her life.
A shiver wound down Gia’s spine, and the hairs on her arms rose. Had the room gotten colder?
“Oh shit!” a voice shouted.
Gia’s head whipped up.
The ghost was floating in the middle of her living room.
“How did I get here?” Aurora asked.
How was Gia supposed to know? She shrugged, intrigued by her own lack of fear as her goosebumps faded. She was almost relieved to see Aurora again. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
The ghost crossed her translucent arms and regarded Gia, her hair floating around her face as it might if she were underwater. “Is this your house?”
“Sort of. I just moved in.”
Aurora spun around, her hair flowing gracefully behind her. “Well, this makes nosense.”
Gia stood from the couch. “Me moving makes no sense? You existing makes no sense.”
Arguing with a figment of her imagination was the real nonsense.
Aurora’s attention sharpened, even as her whole form seemed to flicker in and out of focus. “What I mean is, being trapped at the theater had some logic to it. I don’t get why I’d suddenly be here.”
“You don’t know how you got here?” Expecting the equivalent of an imaginary friend to explain anything was ridiculous, but Gia couldn’t seem to help herself.
Aurora drifted to the window and peered out. “Doesn’t look like I went far. I was trapped in the theater for ages, then there was this pull, and I appeared here.”
Interesting, however…not as interesting as Aurora’s floating hair. It was mesmerizing. Ethereal. Strands of washed-out, almost white blonde flowing in constant, gradual motion, like they were caught in a current. The ends were so translucent, Gia could hardly make them out as they swayed.
What would Aurora’s hair feel like? Each lock appeared silky soft, but Gia’s hand would sadly pass right through.
And the rest of Aurora… Gia had to employ every strategy she’d learned over a lifetime of not openly gawking at women for fear of making them uncomfortable. She wanted to do nothing but stare at Aurora, and really shouldn’t.
Well, maybe notnothing, but she was keeping her thoughts appropriate.
Yet she noted each one of Aurora’s curves. How her bralette hugged her full breasts. The way the ghostly fabric of her sheer, mesh top clung to her shoulders and stomach, somehow giving off the same white sheen as her skin, while still conveying the undertones of color.
Gia’s imagination could ensnare her all right. This ghostwas gorgeous, and her modern appearance almost tempted Gia into believing she was real.
Aurora turned away from the window, and Gia’s face heated. “What were you doing at the theater?”
“Getting a handle on the business. Did you say you were trapped there?” Had Aurora died in the theater? She couldn’t have if she were a hallucination, but still, Gia’s heart ached at the thought.
“I’m in the process of joining the Lockwood Coven, so the connection must have drawn me in and trapped me. But what does that have to do with you? Are you part of the coven?”
Gia’s stomach flipped. “I have nothing to do with any coven.”
Aurora floated closer, and Gia took a stumbling step away. Aurora stopped abruptly. “You’ve got something to do with the Lockwoods if you were in the theater.”
“No, I don’t. Look, I don’t even know if you’re real.”
Aurora huffed like she couldn’t believe they’d returned to this ridiculous argument. “I’ll prove I’m real, okay? You knowsomeonein the Lockwood Coven. Otherwise, you couldn’t have gotten inside the theater. Call whoever it is and ask if Aurora Thornfield requested to join.”
