The Twisted Veil: A Twisted Sisters Anthology (The Twisted Sisters Anthologies Book 1)
Page 6
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Pippa had finally found her coffee maker and grounds and set it to brew while she put the last of her plates away. Looking around the now brightly decorated kitchen, she smiled proudly. Everything was done in here, save for taking the boxes out and going for groceries. The coffee maker beeped and she fixed herself a cup. Feeling like she had accomplished a lot, Pippa decided to reward herself by taking her steaming mug out to the swing that had been positioned between the trees to relax before tackling the living room. Leaning back there, she watched the sun set slowly across the valley behind the house, admiring how clear and crisp the colors appeared out in the country. The wind picked up again and tousled her hair and clothes, chilling her just enough to send her back inside to get the fireplace ready and set up the living room. The man who had built the house hadn’t installed central heating or air conditioning, but she was planning on camping in the living room near the fire for now, anyway. Thankfully, the realtor had thought to have a crew come clean up the house and clear out the chimney before her arrival. The woman had also had the electricity connected for her. It was only October, but the nights tended to get cold, especially on an open plain where the wind had free reign, as it did here.
Half an hour later, Pippa had hung the curtains, gotten a fire going, swept and laid out rugs, and was in the process of hooking up all of the cords behind her entertainment center when she heard a noise. Still being uneasy at the unfamiliarity of the place, she let out a squeak and jumped. A field mouse ran across the floor and she sighed.
"Guess I'm gonna have to get a cat or two, aren't I?" she said to the small creature as it scurried into hiding.
A voice from the darkened hallway made her scream. "Or you could just leave."
"That you, Casper? And here I thought you had left because you didn't like my company!"
She heard him make a frustrated sound before stepping into the light. "Why won't you just leave?" he demanded.
Pippa finished plugging cords in and struggled to push the heavy wooden box that held the electronics back into place. Then she turned to look at him, taking in his rugged features. Tall, much taller than she was, he had red stubble on his face and intelligent looking blue eyes. He wore faded denim jeans over dirty cowboy boots, and a simple black t-shirt. The style of the clothes told her he couldn't have died too many years ago. She felt sad for him. He was a very handsome man who looked to be in his late thirties. Much too young to have one’s life cut short, in her opinion.
He in turn studied her while waiting for an answer. He couldn't help but be drawn to her, even though he wanted her gone. She was beautiful. Kind of looks like a little pixie. She was on the short side, with curly blonde hair that fell to just below her shoulders, bright hazel eyes, and full lips that seemed quick to take on a smile. He had just started to think about how her lips would feel when she shook him out of it by responding.
"I won't leave because this is my home now. I paid the money, I got the deed. It's mine. You're welcome to hang around, but if you cause many more problems I'll have to exorcise your git ass, get me?"
He was grateful she had stopped the thoughts. He didn't want anyone here, didn’t want to want anyone here; it was his sanctuary. Even if he did want someone around, it's not like he could even touch them. No handshakes, no friendly pats on the back, nothing. He preferred to just be left alone. Since it was obvious she was going to try and stay, for now at least, he had to ask her a question.
"Fine then! At least tell me why you're not afraid of me."
She waved her hand dismissively as she put movies into the cabinet. "Something happened to me when I was a kid, and I started seeing ghosts. Most of them are just repeats, but I've met one other who could think and speak to me. I've seen you lot since then, and I happen to know there's no reason to be afraid."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean by repeats?"
"You know what? I'm not answering anymore of your questions until you at least tell me your name, if you can remember it. If we're to have a conversation, I should at least have something to call you, right?"
"Oh!" he was a little startled. It had been a very long time since anyone asked his name. "What if I don't want to tell you my name?"
Pippa shrugged. "Then I'll stop speaking to you at all."
The ghostly man drew himself up, standing even taller than before. "Why should I care?"
"Because I can see the curiosity is just eating you up," she said simply, trying to hide her sly smile.
He scowled and shifted to the other foot, unwilling to admit that she was right.
"Come on then, I see on your face that you don't like it when I call you 'Casper', so spit it out, will ya?"
He puffed out a breath, which Pippa found odd as he didn't need to breathe, and answered her. "My name is Griffin, okay?"
"Oh, Griffin! I like that name! Well then," she rose and went to stand in front of him. "Nice to meet you Griffin, my name is Pippa." She started to hold her hand out, then realized how silly it was and dropped it back at her side, grinning widely instead. "Isn't that better?" she asked him.
"I could kill you, you know."
Pippa was caught off guard and fell back a step. "Excuse me?"
Griffin stepped menacingly toward her, hunching his back and getting eye level with her. "You heard me. You need to leave now, or I will make you go, one way or another."
The look of fright fled her eyes and was replaced with angry fire. "Now look here! I was trying to make nice with you, trying to be friendly, and out of the blue you start threatening me? You sir, are an ass!" She turned to storm away from him, seeking the soothing comfort of the trees, but spun around at the front door. "Oh! And I happen to know that you can't kill me!" Then she slammed the door open and went to the swing again, letting the now cold wind calm her temper. She continued to mutter about ‘bloody bipolar ghosts’.
Griffin stood at the screen door watching her, his own anger fleeting. He wanted to be mad, to hate her, but it was hard. It had been so long since he'd had a friend, and she was alone, like him. Her bubbly personality and witty charm reminded him of a nurse he used to know, the only real friend he had ever had. He wouldn't allow himself to be her friend, though. He needed her to leave. Fading out of sight, he reappeared in the attic to watch her where she couldn't return his glare.
After several minutes of sitting the wind, Pippa's frustration with her ghost had given way to the shivering, brought on by the quickly dropping temperature. She had been so mad that she didn't think to grab a jacket to put on over her thin tank top, and she was freezing. Giving up, she jogged back to the house and ran straight to the fireplace. She realized there were tears on her face, and cursed herself.
"Why must I cry at every little emotion?"
Angrily wiping them away, she continued to warm herself, curled up on a pile of pillows in front of the fire. That’s where she fell asleep. Griffin walked silently over and stared down at her in confusion. He felt bad that she had gotten so cold and cried because of him, but he really wanted her gone. He told himself that if she got sick, she would be here even longer. Looking around, he saw a throw blanket hanging off the side of a box, and had it sliding toward him a moment later. Then, his brow furrowed in concentration, he quickly snatched the blanket up and tossed it over her body. His face covered in sweat, he nodded to himself and vanished seconds later.
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Back in the blue room, Griffin curled up and went to sleep, exhausted from focusing so hard to be able to touch the blanket.
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Pippa's eyelids fluttered. "Never met a ghost who could do that," she mumbled before falling back to sleep.