Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
"I did say might," I pointed out weakly.
"Oh, child!" Nana floated off her seat and began pacing restlessly mid-air. "There is no might about this. Did you or did you not have sex with it?"
"He's not an 'it'!"
"Oh my Lord." Nana looked as if she was about to have a heart attack now. "You sound as if you're in love with him, too!"
"I'm not." And I wasn't. Right?
Nana started wringing her hands. "This is so very bad, my dear."
"But only if Mary Priscilla and the others are right—-" My voice trailed off at the incredulous look the older woman shot my way.
"How can you still have doubts about this?"
"I just think—-"
"But you aren't thinking, and that's the problem. You aren't looking at this objectively at all because you're already under its—-" I frowned at Nana, and the older woman let out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, alright, his then. You are clearly under his influence already—-"
"All I'm saying," I argued, "is that the evidence Mary Priscilla gave isn't sufficient."
"Isn't it?" Nana floated back to her seat and looked at me straight in the eye. "Mary Priscilla said that she spoke with the other ghosts in your building, yes?"
I was about to nod when I remembered that I was supposed to be on the phone. "Uh, yes."
"And how did they describe him?"
"That he was a figure in black," I admitted reluctantly, "just that. Not one of them could describe him further than that. It was as if he was hidden under a cloud of shadows..." Like the ones in my nightmare, I thought, but the words remained stuck in my throat.
"And they feared him, didn't they?"
Terrified was more like it, I thought, remembering the way Mary Priscilla hadn't been able to stop glancing over her shoulder every so often, as if she expected Hadrian to drag her into Hell any moment.
But even so...
"I just can't believe he's the Man in Black," I confessed unhappily. "Can't just everybody be wrong about him?" It might be statistically improbable, but it wasn't entirely impossible either. "He simply doesn't feel evil—-"
"Of course he doesn't," Nana almost snapped. "Do you think evil creatures such as him are able to get away with doing evil things by revealing the truth about themselves? Do you think Mammon would simply walk up to his next human target and introduce himself as the Demon of Greed?"
And there was the D-word I had been dreading, and sadly, it was even worse than 'douchebag' and 'dickhead'.
"You must avoid him at all costs, child. The Man in Black is too powerful—-"
"He's just human like me—-"
"You know that's not true," Nana said flatly. "Remember what happened to the last ghost that had attempted to enter his apartment."
A poltergeist, Mary Priscilla had revealed in trembling tones, and one whose head was cut off upon trying to pass through the front door.
"Maybe he's got a really good security system?"
Nana threw her hands up in a visible fit of frustration. "You must take this seriously, Saoirse."
I knew she was right, but something inside of me still refused to believe that Hadrian was the Man in Black just like that. I needed more proof, and in cases like this, there could only be one way to find out the truth.
HADRIAN LOOKED HIS usual gorgeous self when he strode inside St. Michael the Archangel Church.
The bad news: he was still dressed in black from top to bottom, which totally didn't help his case.
The good news: he didn't catch fire upon stepping on holy ground, and he didn't even flinch the slightest bit when, upon reaching me, I "accidentally" splashed a whole bottle of holy water on his face.
There were a couple of loud gasps from the other churchgoers, but I didn't dare take my eyes off Hadrian's face, which remained beautiful...and unblemished.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
I felt weak with relief, and I couldn't keep myself from grinning like a fool. "I'm so, so sorry about that."
"You sound very much like it, too." Hadrian's tone, albeit dry, was also underscored with amusement.
A total gentleman through and through, which was the very opposite of the D-word that every dead person in Portland seemed to think he was.
"I'm really very sorry..." I finally managed to find the pack of tissues in my bag and pulled out a sheet. "Here..." I only meant to hand it to him, but then I saw Hadrian raise his brow at me.
Oh.
I found myself biting my lip even as I slowly reached up to wipe one side of his face with slightly trembling fingers. His skin was hard and smooth under my touch, and I was so badly tempted to have another "accident" just so I could reacquaint myself with the texture of his lips..
"Sorry about this again," I said softly.
"Hm."
"It really was an accident."
"Of course."
The dryness of his tone had me fighting back a smile. "You think I did it deliberately?" I glanced up as I spoke, wanting to see his face when he answered me.