Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 265(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
I look up at her. “Just earlier today, you didn’t want a thing to do with me. You said you couldn’t help me.”
Her eyes turn soft for the first time. She takes a step back, fidgeting with her cane. “I … suppose I reminded myself that you’re an innocent in all of this and don’t deserve my wrath.” She glances away uncomfortably. “I am the one who got you in this mess, after all.”
“You?”
“Me.” She sighs. “I taught you how to let the ghost inside of you. I bear some of the responsibility for your condition, too, do I not?”
After another glance at a very worried Byron, I take a sip. It’s peppery and sour, the taste and consistency reminding me more of soup broth than tea. It certainly tastes nothing like it smells, which is confusing.
The look on Byron’s face suggests he expected me to turn into a pink bat or a toad after swallowing. I give him a nod. “Not bad. Go ahead and try it.”
Byron, however, isn’t so easily convinced. He faces her. “I apologize for putting this so bluntly, ma’am, but I’m not planning to play into your parlor tricks. Some weird tea isn’t going to—”
“Is this because of your delightful fathers and how they go about exploring their interests in the paranormal world? There is more than one way through the forest. My way is less destructive and involves less ridiculous gadgets and atmospheric pressure readings and—Yes, I’ve read a few of their silly books, and I have notes.”
Byron stiffens up. “My dads’ books aren’t silly.”
“If you’d rather enlist your fathers’ help in this matter, be my bitter guest. But I don’t suspect they’ll know the first thing to do in this case, short of burning down the damned building, and while the notion of a little innocent insurance fraud doesn’t particularly scare me, I’d rather not endure the hassle.”
Byron is about to come at her with something else when suddenly he stops. “Wait. How do you know who my dads are?”
“You really have to ask? I know everything.” She picks up the cup and hands it to him sternly. “Drink.”
Byron’s jaw tightens. “I’m not—”
“Really, child, it’s far more pleasant to taste when it’s hot.”
As Byron debates whether or not the tea contains cyanide or fairy dust, I let out a sigh. “You still haven’t told me anything. Why am I shivering and seeing old creepy ladies with scary eyes who aren’t really there?”
Byron looks at me, stunned. “Is that what you saw during brunch this morning?”
Lightning flashes against the side of the woman’s face as she leans on her cane. “Who knows who the old creepy lady was? Could be a spirit that died next-door. Or centuries ago. There’s no telling. It isn’t important.”
I’m getting impatient. “So what are the Deathies?”
“The Deathies are simple to explain: your greedy ghost friend, whether intentionally or not, has claimed a part of your soul as his own. Half, if I had to guess.”
Half of my soul …? “Say what?”
“It’s likely a result of letting him share your body as often as you have. Two years, you said?” She shakes her head and clicks her tongue admonishingly. “The sad ghost has grown confused. He has united with your soul so many times, he must mistakenly believe it partially belongs to him. We must convince the ghost to let go of the other half of your soul he’s claimed.”
Byron rolls his eyes and sets down the tea at once. “This is a complete mockery of everything I know.” He looks at me, eyes half-lidded. “You don’t really believe any of this crap, do you?”
With my lips parted, I glance back and forth from Byron to Mrs. Shaheen. “I … I don’t know …”
“It should be rather self-explanatory,” she carries tiredly on, nearly looking on the verge of yawning. “The shivers you experience are because your own body can sense the compromised piece of yourself in question. It’s like triggering your immune system, but it doesn’t know what to fight. Your eyes also deceive you, from time to time peering into the Realm of the Dead.”
“Realm of the hold-your-fucking-horses what?” I blurt, freaked out.
“That’s probably why you saw the old woman. You will see many strange things with your half-dead eyes. I’ve heard seeing such restless spirits while having a case of the Deathies causes ghosts to have glowing, terrifying eyes. Strange yet factual phenomenon.”
I don’t know where to begin. I’m completely at her mercy as far as any of this goes. “And how do I get rid of this? What do I do?”
“The first step is you drink the damned tea.” She eyes Byron again. “That includes you.”
Byron glares at her, unmoved.
I down the rest of my cup in two big gulps, wipe my mouth with the back of my wrist, then set the cup down with a grunt. “Done. Step two?”