Ghost Perfume | ✔

Chapter 15: Find Me (Part 2)

"It's loud,'' Jane whispered, hovering closer to me. "Go on.''

One, two, three - one by one, starting with those who were closest, red threads began to come faster in my direction.

Ellie, Ellie, can you hear me? Jane waits for you with me.

Four, five, six, seven.

I was vaguely aware of a car door opening and closing behind me. Alexander was leaving?

The inner eye scanned farther, stretching its sights with a kind of hunger I didn't know it had. Ten, twenty, twenty-five ghosts in view, and then I lost count.

I beckoned. They came.

I knew they heard me, because even those who weren't moving when I saw them began to move in my direction.

A door opened and closed. Alexander coming back?

There, what was that?

Many red threads in a group. Too many to count. And they were crowded ... it was hard to distinguish them from each other.

But I thought I saw that some of them were burnt.

And one, one I knew.

Gold glittered as it wove through his damaged thread.

What were they doing in a group? Could they hear me? I had to know. I strained to be louder.

I thought the group seemed to grow more restless, but it never quite moved in a clear direction.

How dare they resist me?

Jackal! I shouted.

The gold-burned thread twisted fearfully, but was it because of me?

I opened my eyes in the physical world. Michael's eyes were the first thing I saw, dark and steady on mine.

I felt disoriented and a headache pulsed in my temples. I didn't see him clearly; my eyes were blurred and shadows lay across his face. Night had begun to fall. Michael sat in nearly the same position as he'd been in when I'd closed my eyes, sideways in the driver's seat, except I caught a stoniness in his face. But it dissipated as I looked at him.

He eased back, taking a breath.

Jane hovered cross-legged in the backseat behind him. I blinked slowly, taking her in, her small serious face.

"Well?'' she whispered.

Her hands were fists in her lap. Hope looked painful in her face.

Alexander was in the middle backseat, his face in darkness. He stirred with a soft rustle of leather when he saw me look at him.

"There are a bunch of ghosts on their way to us.'' I made an effort to let go of the persuasion from my voice. "But ... there's also a big group of them I can sense and call to, but they don't come.''

I shifted, feeling stiff and uncomfortable. A blanket slipped down my lap. Oh, they'd covered me. I smoothed my fingers over it.

"Tangled red threads,'' I added.

Liar, Tommy's accusation, from what felt like a lifetime ago, echoed in my head. You have a guilty face. Did you know that, psycho? You can't lie to save your life.

I stretched my legs out under the blanket, shivering from the stretch. "It's weird. I think they've formed a kind of community and they're convincing each other not to listen to me. Wow I'm thirsty.''

Alexander handed me a small bottle of orange juice.

I avoided looking at Jane as I reached for it, because she'd heard me call Jackal, of course, and I didn't want her expression to distract me.