Ghosts of Halloween: Chapter 39

Jack holds my little bird, partly comforting, partly restraining her, I think. He doesn’t want her to fly off the handle again, and I don’t either. This entire night is already overwhelming. So much rides on what happens—not just our lives, but eternity. I try not to think about the stakes, because it makes my gut clench with unease.

Even so, I cherish the feeling. I’ve been just a wisp of smoke for two years, all sensations just faint, unsatisfying echoes of what they’d been in reality. This night, when we have our bodies back, is a gift.

But that makes it so much harder to stay focused. Even now, my cock twitches when I look at Jack’s tanned hands sliding slowly down Harlow’s back. I fucked Silas and her tonight, and still, it’s not enough. Not after two years of depressing, ghostly existence.

Silas slouches against the wall, his hands in his pockets, one knee bent, his foot pressing to the wall. His dark eyes glitter, reflecting candlelight, and I have an urge to go to him and just hold him or, better yet, let him fuck me into the floor one last time.

God, I’m insatiable today.

Instead, I force my body to cool down and clear my throat, looking at Harlow.

“The promise we made kept us here to save you,” I tell her. “After we died, we woke up with the knowledge that your life would be in danger here, though we didn’t know when. That’s why we couldn’t leave. Not because we died here, but because you would have—if not for us.”

She presses her lips together, brows furrowing, and I can tell she’s miserable. She really hates being the cause of our suffering, but I don’t mind it at all right now. Silas made her pay. We all did. The sick hunger for her pain is appeased, and now, I only have warm feelings for my little bird.

Maybe too warm. I dread what will happen if it doesn’t work out. And even more—if it does. Because being together as ghosts won’t be half as good as when we’re corporeal.

“And this is why we got our bodies back. Just for one night,” I continue when she doesn’t say anything. “So we could save you. But… as soon as the sun rises, we’ll be back to being ghosts, and most likely, no longer here. We’ll be trapped somewhere else. Another place where your life will be in danger. Where we’ll have to protect you.”

She sucks in a breath, glancing at Jack, whose face is serious and drawn for once, and then at Silas, who is completely devoid of expression. He looks bored, leaning against the wall, though I see the tense muscle in his jaw ticking.

“So… I have to die so you can get free,” she says slowly. “Then why… Why did you stop me when I took the pills?”

Silas snorts, and she looks at him, confused.

“Angel, we were trapped here for two years because of you, knowing you were the one who gave us away. Believe me, in our place, you would have wanted the same thing we did.” He flashes her a predatory grin, candlelight playing in his mocking eyes. “Revenge.”

She raises her eyebrows and glances at me in confusion. “But… Wait. That was… revenge? You must have really liked being stuck here, then.”

I snort, and Jack growls low in his throat, making her look at him as he speaks. “You messed with our plans, princess. We wanted to do things differently. Very differently.”

She stares at him until her pupils widen and she looks away, tensing as she clasps her hands in her lap. “Oh. Well. I… would have deserved it, I guess.”

“No,” Silas snaps, pushing away from the wall. “Look, we punished you. That’s enough. What’s done is done, and we need to focus on the next step.”

“Killing me,” she says in a flat voice that only trembles a little.

“Would you let this go?” Jack grumbles. “You make it sound worse than it is.”

Harlow snorts with a high-pitched laughter, sounding on the edge of hysteria. I run my hand through my hair, relishing even that casual touch. Fuck. I’ll really miss having a body. But existing as a ghost is still better than not existing at all.

“We were planning to just kill you so we could pass on,” I explain after releasing a long breath. “But the plan changed. Jack figured out a way that might work so you… can stay with us. As a ghost. So we can all stay. Together. Hopefully, no longer trapped.”

Silence ensues, and the tension in the air is palpable. Harlow’s wary eyes swing to Jack’s face, then to Silas where he stands by the wall, shoulders tight. Finally, Jack breathes out shakily. “Is this something you want?”

“I… I don’t know,” Harlow says, dropping her gaze. “A lot happened. I don’t…” She sighs in frustration and slides off Jack’s lap, kneeling on the floor, arms covering her chest. She glances at each of us in turn, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Jack looks at me, his face tense and anxious, and I know what he feels, because I feel it, too. Suddenly, this is so much more complicated. When we made our big plan, killing Harlow seemed like the easiest thing in the world after what she did to us. Now? I care for her. I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no. If she tries to leave.

I don’t think I have it in me to hold her down and cut her throat while she fights and screams.

Silas snorts, shaking his head, his face sharpening in a scowl. I know he’s bracing for her rejection.

Only hours ago, I would have counted on him to do what’s necessary if Harlow refused. Because after everything’s said and done, we are still tethered to her. Our only way to freedom is through her.

But now, I don’t think I can rely on Silas anymore. He fell for her, somehow, just like I did. There is something about our broken little bird that makes me loathe the thought of hurting her despite everything.

So when Harlow swallows, her tight throat bobbing, and gives a tiny nod, I slump in relief, unable to control it. Silas looks suspicious, eyes narrowing on her like he expects her to take it back, and Jack pulls her into his lap, peppering kisses all over her head.

“Fuck, princess. So glad you agree. Would have sucked to… you know.”

Harlow grabs his hand, playing with his long fingers, her eyes cast down. “I mean… I planned to, anyway. There’s nothing for me out there. Um… I also might have pissed someone off today. Enough to hurt me. It would be stupid to… go back to my life. So… Yeah. Just… Make it quick.”

She casts a furtive glance at the knife lying on the floor, the blade spotted with her drying blood. Silas looks at it, too, his hand flexing.

“Not yet,” he rasps. “Cay. Will you… Come with me? And Jack… You know. Better make your peace in case it doesn’t work.”

Jack’s mouth tightens into a grim line, and I grip his shoulder, then lean down to kiss Harlow’s forehead. When I get up, Silas is already waiting by the door, his hand stretched out to me. I take it without a word and we walk out of the room.

He leads me to the basement, and I follow, looking at the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders. When we reach our card table, he turns me fast until I stand with my back to the table. He pushes, making me stumble and sit down heavily, our worn deck of cards spilling onto the floor.

We played a lot as ghosts. After we figured out how to handle objects, we picked the basement as our hiding spot, knowing even if someone came into the house, they wouldn’t come down here. They wouldn’t touch our stuff and wreck the space we had so painstakingly cleaned up to make our entrapment more bearable.

Now, though, neither of us cares about the scattered cards. Silas growls low in his throat and stands between my spread thighs, pushing at my legs to widen them even more.

“Cay,” he rasps, gripping the back of my head in a trembling hand. “Fuck, Cay.”

I wrap my hands around his waist, holding him close, and Silas lowers his forehead to mine, breathing hard. “I know, baby,” I murmur.

He usually bristles at endearments, but not today. He makes a choked sound and tugs on my hair, tilting my head up so he can kiss me. I taste the desperation on his tongue as he thrusts it in my mouth, pressing closer so his hard cock pushes into mine, and we both groan. I dig my fingers into the bare skin of his back, urging him closer, even though there’s no space left between us.

Silas drags his mouth to my chin and kisses down my jaw, panting with want. I bury my hand in his hair, closing my eyes and wishing this moment could last forever.

“I’m scared, baby,” I say, swallowing when I hear how fragile my voice sounds. Close to breaking.

He drops a gentle kiss on my lips and urges me up, the table not quite high enough to be comfortable. We just stand, pressed together, my face buried in the warm crook of his neck. I breathe him in, fear curling up my spine. Because even if this works, if we actually stay together when Harlow’s dead… I know I will never feel him like this.

Before tonight, we could touch as ghosts. We could even fuck. But the sensations were muted, never quite enough. The way we touch now, Silas’s body heat burning into me, his breath caressing my skin, his delicious scent curling around me… I’ll never feel it again after tonight. It makes me desperate.

“I love you, Cay,” Silas says, his voice barely making it out of his tight throat. “I’ll always love you. No matter what happens. You’re mine.”

“I love you, too. You’re it for me, and I can’t…” I take a shuddering breath, swallowing tears that threaten to burst. I don’t know when was the last time I cried, it was so long ago, but the thought of never feeling Silas like this, or worse—losing him forever if we pass on after killing Harlow—it fucking breaks me.

“Fuck me,” I say, pressing my open mouth to his smooth neck in a hot kiss. “Fuck me for the last time. Make it good, baby.”