Page 104 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
Time drifted by us as I finished my meal, gulping down the glass of cabernet he'd poured for me and thinking it was perfectly paired with the beef. I ate every bite to show I appreciated the effort Logan put into it. The meal was perfect, but I hardly tasted it. I was too concerned about the feelings of the ghost who watched me eat it. Something in Logan was dying tonight, some hope of clinging to what remained of this life.
I crossed my fork and knife on my plate. "Everything was perfect. The food was the most delicious I've ever had."
Logan disappeared. A moment later, a romantic ballad crooned from the speakers in the family room. Unforgettable by Natalie Cole. The choice wasn't lost on me. He reappeared next to my chair, so solid I would have guessed he was human if I hadn't known better. I didn't have to look at the clock to know it must be midnight.
"Will you dance with me?" he asked, extending his arm. "For one dance, let's pretend we both met when we had choices, when I was human, and you were carefree, and the world turned. Let's dance like there was no magic, just two human beings and the music."
I remembered how I'd danced with Rick and the ...results. The music was different, and so was the man. I would give Logan this. We would dance, and we would always have this memory. I took his arm and stood, smiling as if I lived in the pretend world he wanted for us. I placed one arm on his hip, the cool tingle letting me know where his molecules began, and held his hand with my other. It was more difficult than I expected. I couldn't lean into him like I might with a human dancer. But we swayed to the music, my arms growing sore from holding the position. I smiled, and he pretended, and then the song ended.
I dropped my hands to my sides. Logan ran his fingers up my outer arms, making the tiny hairs stand on end. He leaned forward and the focused current of air that was his kiss brushed my lips. When I opened my eyes, the look he gave me was soul crushing. Pure unrequited love.
"I should get some sleep," I said.
He nodded.
"Good night, Logan."
Halfway up the stairs I heard him say, "I love you." I pretended not to hear him and continued up the stairs. I never made it to the top.
Just then the door to the garage burst open. Michelle entered the kitchen, her arms full of Ben and Jerry's ice cream. "Grateful? Your garage door was open. I hope you don't mind, I let myself-" Michelle stopped at the entrance to the dining room. She stared at Logan, and her jaw dropped.
Logan was doing his best to appear normal. He focused his energy to look as solid as possible. I wasn't sure how long the illusion would last.
I jogged back down the stairs and placed myself between them. "Of course it's okay," I said, hugging her in such a way as to block her view of Logan. I spun her around toward the kitchen. "Come on. Let's get some bowls for the ice cream."
"Wait. Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" She pivoted toward Logan.
Had she turned inward, toward me, I would have been able to stop her with my body. I would have made some excuse as to why the man I was with was suddenly gone. But Michelle rotated outward, away from me, making it almost impossible to maneuver in front of her. Logan dissolved at the precise moment she turned. If I had to guess, I'd say he took the opportunity of her facing the kitchen to make his escape and then couldn't stop the process halfway. But it was also entirely possible that he ran out of energy. After all, he'd spent the entire evening making me dinner and holding his molecules together. This whole situation was more than stressful to the poor guy-I mean, ghost.
Whatever the reason, Logan went up in smoke right in front of Michelle.
"Michelle, I-" My attempted explanation fell on deaf ears.
Her mouth opened and a head-splitting scream sliced through the room. The ice cream toppled from her fingers. She scrambled for the door.
"Michelle, stop!" I called, but she'd totally freaked. She spilled into the street before I could stop her. There was only one place to go from my house if you were following the road-across the bridge and straight to Rick's.
Unfortunately, it was after midnight, and Rick was working. At the top of the bridge, I could see what Michelle had already seen. Rick was standing in front of his house, completely naked. She stopped in the middle of the road like a deer in headlights.
"Stop. Please," he said. He held out a hand toward her.
She shook her head and backed away from him. Unfortunately, that meant she was backing toward the graveyard.
"Michelle, stop. I can explain," I called. I jogged toward her with my hands out.
It was no use. She was in full-blown panic mode. I wasn't even sure she could hear me.
"What's going on?" she said in a shaky voice.
I started to answer her, but was distracted by the fog rolling in behind the gate. Fingers of thick, black mist filtered through the hedges, licking at the bars of the fence. If Michelle got any closer, the darkness would reach her.
"Michelle, move away from the gate," I said, voice trembling. I gestured with my hand for her to come to me.
Rick took a step forward.
She didn't move. "No. Tell me what's going on." She stepped backward.
The fog stretched for her.
