Ghost Perfume | ✔

Chapter 17: Trust Me, Baby (Part 1)

I was snuggled in the guest bed in the big house. A thin light suffused the air outside the window.

Dawn.

My limbs were weighed down by the lingering effects of a deep sleep; I'd died and been reborn in that sleep. I'd healed myself in its heavy depths ... because my thread had been cut to the quick again, worse than before ... I'd cut too much when I forced the revenants to pass through the portal.

I'd been in a hotel ... a shitty little motel ... and then we must have moved again.

The death portal pulsed gently back at me. My faithful companion.

"Finally, you're awake!''

It was Jane. She came to float over me, the ghost of Ellie beside her.

I pulled myself to a sitting position, rubbing my eyes.

"Hi,'' I said to Ellie. I felt anxious to make a good first impression.

Though we'd already met in the clearing.

It had been like a fever dream.

I saw again the sickening white gleam of bone sticking out of flesh, tasted blood and fear in my mouth, heard their chants and vile words of contempt for when I have to smell the entrails of a failed soul.

What did they know about the faint and lovely perfume of a ghost, the kiss of a snowdrop in the everyday air?

No, they'd gone on and on about eagles and lions and other stupid predators that probably smelled like sweat and musk and blood.

"Those two that I ... that were unraveled ...''

Jane and Ellie shuddered.

No, I didn't need to ask - I could check on them myself. I sensed them immediately close by. "They're here, good.''

I didn't want to separate too far from them.

"Yeah, they're in the courtyard,'' Jane informed me.

I slid out of the warm bed, thinking about going to talk to them, and how I might be able to call to Jackal, and what Jane and Ellie might want now that we'd found and reunited with Ellie.

My thoughts screeched to a halt.

I wasn't wearing the clothes I'd been wearing when I fell asleep in the hotel room - well, they'd been dirty and bloody, I knew, but - but ...

Heat flooded my face.

"Who undressed me?'' I whispered.

Jane and Ellie looked at each other and burst into giggles.

"Michael,'' Jane said.

"No, he didn't,'' I said.

"Yes, he washed you. You don't remember? You kind of half woke up. He gave you some kind of tea and medicine and put you in those pajamas.''

"No he didn't,'' I wailed, covering my face.

Now that she told me, I thought I remembered, hazy and vague in my sleep-addled memory, the relief of warm clean water rushing over my skin, while a clothed chest propped me up ... it was dark, and the soapy fragrance of the steam was sweet in the air. Michael's voice coaxed me to keep my head up.

I thought it was a dream.

"I think a better question you should be asking is, why does Michael have pajamas in your size in this house?'' Jane pointed out.

"I'll never be able to face him again,'' I whimpered, falling to a crouch on the floor, still covering my face. "Oh my god, oh my god.''

"You're in his house,'' Ellie said, quite reasonably. "But he didn't seem very embarrassed. I think he is somewhat older than you.''