Page 78 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"You'd sacrifice your soul, your eternal rest, for my happiness?"
"Yes, I would."
Sometimes in life there are easy decisions, where the right thing to do pops out at you. I had to decide between sex with a monster that would result in a lifetime of moonlighting as a witch, and living with the guilt of condemning the nicest soul I'd ever met to an eternity in my attic. As decisions went, this was one hell of a ding-dong.
"I've got to think. Logan, I need to talk to Prudence. She said to find the key and bring the vessel. Rick is the vessel. Do you know where the key is?"
"Are you sure? A good night's rest might make everything clear."
"I'm sure. Where is it?"
Logan walked over to the cabinet and opened the door. A silver canister engraved with the word coffee rested in front of the Tupperware. He waited. I pulled down the canister and opened the lid. The top of a key stuck out from the grounds.
"This is why you made my coffee every morning. You haven't wanted me to go up there. You've been trying to keep me from the truth!"
He hung his head.
"Why? Why would you do this?"
"For the same reason I told you to stay away from the caretaker. But you're right. It should be your decision, either way."
"Damn right it should. We are not finished with this conversation." I pointed at his ghostly form, grabbed the key and headed for the stairs.
Prudence Meriwether
Old-fashioned and weighty, I rolled the antique key in my hand. The wide end looped around twice like butterfly wings before twisting and melding into the blade of the key. Was it forged by hand? Hundreds of years old? If this house was built for Isabella, it was ancient. A house of secrets.
I climbed the stairs one apprehensive step at a time, glancing back at Logan until I took the bend at the second-floor landing. At the attic door, I paused. What I was about to do would change me forever, no matter what I decided.
The key slid into the lock, and the mechanism began to glow. The door transformed, the chipped paint gleaming white, the wrought iron knob turning to pearl. I opened the door and stepped into pure light and warmth, an open space with soft edges and stained glass. Beyond the windows, I could see it was night outside, but the light came from within, from the floor and the walls. I took a step inside. The door closed behind me.
"I wondered when you would come, Grateful."
A dark-haired woman, about my age, stood near the closest window. Her heart-shaped face turned toward me. She was wearing a nursing uniform from the 1960s: white skirt, white blouse, complete with one of those white square hats that nobody wears anymore.
"Prudence?" The ghost was a far cry from the glowing torso I'd seen on my stairs and in the family room, but really, who else would be in here?
"Yes, it's me." She smiled all the way to her eyes, a peaceful, authentic smile. "I can't believe how much you've grown, my dear."
"But you look so young. Weren't you, like, seventy when you died?"
"Seventy-two, but who's counting? That's the beauty of death. You can take any form from your life. Today, I'm my twenty-six-year-old self. That was the year I first met you."
"I'm only twenty-two. You would have been fifty when I was born."
"I mean, the last you. Your name was Samantha Graves. I was twenty-six, and you looked to be about the same age, but of course you were much older."
"I don't understand. You mean, I looked younger than I was?"
"Quite. The witch is not immortal in the sense that she can be killed, as you were, but she does not age, so long as she takes her caretaker's blood."
"Yes, the blood thing. I wanted to talk to you about that. Can you explain what exactly becoming the witch entails? Does there have to be sex and blood, or is there another way?"
"Oh, dear. Have you seen the caretaker?" She giggled to herself, then frowned when I didn't join in. "In my day, women would have clawed each other's eyes out for a night with Rick. Have tastes changed so much?"
"Ah, no. He's gorgeous by anyone's standards. I'm just not sure I want to rush into a relationship."
She knitted her brow. "Rush? You do know you spent more than a lifetime together? That you were married more than once?"
