Audrey Claire - Libby Grace 01 - How to be a Ghost

by Audrey Claire

“When I told you not to allow yourself to be seen as a ghost, I mentioned those who could banish you.”

  I nodded. “Exorcism or something like it.”

  “It is not just humans you have to worry about. They are nothing compared to vampires. As I said, you are a vampire’s enemy by your existence. Most of them will banish you upon sight, no questions asked, and no chances.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “You didn’t.” I whispered the words.

  “You are mine.”

  I bristled at the words because they didn’t sound like the declaration of a lover. I hadn’t spoken two words to Ian before this incident. At least I didn’t think I had.

  “A vampire does not care for much,” he said, oblivious to my offense. “He has an obligation to look after his wards—those he has made into vampires. And he protects his food source. That would be you.”

  “I am not a food source.”

  He shrugged. What did he care if I was in denial? I thought back to how long ago it had been since Ian moved to Summit’s Edge. Three years. All that time, I had been giving up my blood to him involuntarily, and he considered me to be his personal fresh-squeezed orange juice.

  I stuck my finger out and pointed at him, my expression firm. “You will never take my blood again, nor Jake’s or Monica’s, or anyone I love. Is that clear?”

  To my annoyance, he leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head. He made no attempt to appease me or to promise he would behave. I could say nothing else, but at least, he appeared to want to help me. I had to accept that much, and at some point while I searched for my body, I needed to look for an answer to how not to be a vampire’s meal.

  The conversation at last turned back to how I could become visible. Ian explained I could be invisible to humans, as I was now, and visible enough to hold up clothing, or solid as if I were alive.

  “Each of these states takes energy,” he told me. “Because you expect that you have to, you appear to walk on floors.”

  “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I walk on the floor?”

  “Is the wind confined to the ground, or does it sweep here and there, low and high?”

  He had a point.

  “The first time you were semi-visible was the result of a desperate need to be seen. Fear and shock at what you saw at the hardware store robbed you of visibility.”

  “You’re probably right about that. I never expected anyone would…” Emotion choked me, and fear. What if someone had done the same to me but dumped my body somewhere?

  “Concentration,” Ian barked. “You are easily distracted like a child.”

  I compressed my lips and focused on him.

  “You must learn to keep your concentration even faced with danger. If you forget for an instant, you risk exposing your existence.”

  “Is that what you have to do?” I asked, curious, “focus on hiding what you are unless someone finds out and…” I gasped when I realized I’d been about to say someone might stick a stake in his heart, but I did not want to make him angry at me again. Not to mention getting staked must be a scary prospect to a vampire.

  “What are you doing, Liberty?”

  I smacked my forehead. Once again, I forgot about my situation and was thinking of his. He had encouraged me to visualize being visible as he explained some of the ghostly rules, and I had flickered into view but lost it the moment I began to think about him being staked.

  “Sorry,” I squeaked.

  “Do it again,” he instructed. “You are low on energy and will not be able to keep this up long. Under no circumstances must you ever allow yourself to deplete your stores to zero.”

  “Why?”

  “Concentrate,” he ordered rather than answer. I was learning Ian never volunteered information unless necessary.

  I shut my eyes and visualized myself as solid. Like someone had stuck a pump in my ankle, I felt energy drain from my head to my feet. I opened my eyes and gaped at my solid form. I stayed that way for all of a minute, and then I sort of deflated, drooping to the floor, forehead resting on my hands as I bent over. My hands were still visible, but the carpet threads were defined through them.

  “That’s enough.”

  I looked up. “I can’t stop. One minute isn’t enough. I’m running out of time! I’ve got to talk to Monica, and I need to explain to Jake.”

  He stood and strolled to the door. I floated after him, too mentally weary to walk like a normal person.

  “Explain what, Liberty?” Ian stopped in the living room and faced me. “Will you say, go ahead and hold my funeral because I’m dead?”

  “You are a cold man, Ian McClain.”

  “So I have been told.”

  I pursed my lips. He was right. I had no idea what to tell Monica and Jake, but I had to say something. Monica might have already called Clark and told him I’m missing. I wanted to head her off before she contacted Mason. I was not ready to concede defeat. That man would not get my little boy.

  “How can I get a bunch of energy that will last me all day?” I bit my lip. “I don’t want to drain anyone.”

  He looked at me as if he knew what I insinuated, that he had done his share of draining people.

  “A superstore such as Walmart or Target,” he suggested. “A mall would be better.”

  “Where there are a lot of people.”

  “This poses more of a risk,” he explained. “You have not learned to see those who aren’t human.”

  A chill raced down my spine. “Okay, so I could go during the day. That way, most likely there won’t be vampires. Right?”

  “As long as you are invisible, you should be fine. However, there are sensitive humans who will feel you.”

  “What about children? Aren’t young children able to see ghosts?”

  “They are. However, you can suppress yourself enough that they will not. Even if there are still some who will see you, it is likely they will be too young to express what they see.”

  A short while later, I left Ian’s house feeling positive and hopeful. I could do this. Without the vampire threatening me with a spell to banish me to a pit, there was no reason why I couldn’t concentrate enough to show myself to Monica. Well, not exactly solid because that took more energy than I imagined, but I could show myself enough so Monica could hear me, and that was the most important thing. If she didn’t scream her head off and phone an exorcist, everything would work out fine.

  Chapter Four

  In my own living room, I sat next to Monica and studied her as she watched TV. Sounds of Jake playing video games in his room reached me, and I was glad for the opportunity to speak with my friend alone. I’m not sure if it was because I was so exhausted or because Ian taught me what to look for, but for the first time, I noticed my energy increasing. Not fast, but steady. Right then, being so close to Monica, I was feeding on her. The knowledge hurt, and try as I might, I couldn’t turn it off. All I could be thankful for was that I hadn’t inadvertently sped it up, which Ian had indicated I had the ability to do.

  Monica fiddled with her phone, heaved a sigh, and then pressed the button to dial. I needed to come clean now or never. Rather than just appear nearby her and scare the bejeezus out of her, I drifted into the hall and stood outside the doorway beyond her view.

  “M-Monica?” I called.

  “Libby!” She must have leaped over the couch because I heard a crash when she hit the floor.

  “Wait,” I squeaked. “Stay in there. Don’t come into the hall.”

  “Are you nuts, girl?” Intense relief filled Monica’s voice, but to give my friend credit, she did pause. “Where have you been? Get in here and let me hug you and then knock some sense into you.”

  “Shh,” I whispered. “Please, keep your voice down. I don’t want Jake to come out here yet.”

  When Monica spoke her voice came from nearer to the doorway. Her shadow fell on the floor, extending across to the opposite wall. All she needed to do was take a step or two, and she woul
d know the truth.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered, matching my tone. Then she gasped. “Are you hurt? Did someone… Oh goodness, Libby, don’t tell me the person who attacked George hurt you too? Whoever he is, I’m going to find him, and he’ll wish the police got to him first!”

  I smiled. That was Monica. She always told me she had my back, and she had proven it more than once. I didn’t doubt her threat for a second.

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what happened to me,” I said and wracked my brain for how to explain my current state. “I…I’m not like I was.”

  “You mean bruises?”

  “No.”

  “You know I don’t like cloak-and-dagger stuff, Libby. Not when it comes to real life. Out with it. What’s up?”

  I glanced down at myself and was relieved to find I could hold the semi-transparent form without much effort, but I hadn’t gathered much energy from Monica, so I didn’t know how long before I ran close to E again. I needed to tell her everything I knew. As I thought about where to start, I came to the swift conclusion that I would not reveal to her that Ian claimed to be a vampire. I still hadn’t seen any evidence. At most, he had cast a spell, but as he put it, even a human could do that. Not that I had met any with those kinds of powers. Either way, I would keep Ian’s secret for now and ponder later what it meant to my situation.

  “I’m a ghost,” I blurted. “Sort of.”

  “A ghost,” Monica repeated. “What do you mean?”

  “Promise me you won’t freak out, okay?”

  “Libby,” she warned.

  I licked my lips. “Go sit on the couch.”

  She grumbled, but I picked up the sound her steps receding from the doorway, and her shadow disappeared. Tentatively, I peeked around the doorframe. I thought she would be looking at me, but she sat on the couch with her back turned. I had the feeling she was nervous about learning the truth. Monica might be bolder than me and probably crazier, but sometimes I saw how she hid her fear behind her actions and her words. I knew her probably as well as her Grandmama knew her, Monica’s only remaining family. Seven years ago, Monica’s parents and her younger brother had been killed in a car accident. I had been the one to sit up all night long with her while she chattered about how much each of them had bugged her in one way or another, and I had been there when she broke down at five in the morning and cried her eyes out.

  Thinking of my precious friend having to face possibly losing me too choked me up. I moved behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, but my fingers passed through. She shivered, and I pulled away.

  “I woke up in Jake’s room while he slept,” I explained.

  “You fell asleep holding him?” she asked, but I knew she guessed that wasn’t what I meant.

  “I appeared in his room.”

  She didn’t face me, and I didn’t move around the couch to force her to look. Choosing my words with care, I explained everything that had happened up until that point, and Monica listened. The way her shoulders drew up and how she kept tugging at her dreads, I knew she had trouble accepting what she heard. At least she hadn’t screamed yet. Then again, she hadn’t seen me with her own eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re not playing a joke on me, Libby? Because if you are, I’m so going to kick your butt.”

  I leaned closer to her, sighing when I couldn’t hug her. “I wish this was a joke. Anyway, Ian thinks I might be still tethered to life,” I said.

  “Tethered? You mean like a rope or whatever?”

  “I guess. I was thinking maybe I’m lying somewhere unconscious.”

  The idea perked Monica up. “Oh, you could be in a hospital, and maybe no one knows who you are.”

  As Monica spoke, she leaped to her feet and spun to face me. The moment her gaze locked with mine, her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and she let loose a scream to bring the house down. I threw my hands out to try calming her down, but she fell away from me and landed on her butt, still screeching.

  “Aunt Monica?” Jake called. “What’s wrong?”

  I spun to face the hall and lost all concentration. I imagined I flickered out to Monica. One minute I appeared before her. The next I was gone. She swung her head back and forth, looking around for me. At least she had stopped screaming by the time Jake entered the room, dressed in an old T-shirt and his Cookie Monster pajama pants with bare toes peeking out from the bottom.

  “Why are you on the floor, Aunt Monica?” Jake asked, following her line of sight but obviously not seeing me. “What happened?”

  “I-I-I…” Monica stuttered. “I thought I saw a mouse, but it was just a ball of yarn. You know from when your mom went through that knitting faze.”

  The woman thought fast on her feet. I had to give her that. Still worried though, I watched Jake. He appeared to take her word for it and offered a few suggestions in his straightforward way about how she shouldn’t be scared of mice, but if she was, he would help her catch it.

  I drifted toward my son and leaned in close to him. A deep inhale brought no scent, and tears stung my eyes. Jake smelled so sweet when he was fresh from a bath, and at that moment I craved to wrap him in my embrace and never let go. All I wanted was to show myself and hear him talk to me, to reassure him I had not and would not abandon him.

  Monica led Jake back into the hall. Their voices reached me from the bedroom, but I couldn’t make out what they said. Not long after, Monica reappeared, treading with caution into the room, her eyes wide and bottom lip caught between her teeth. She paused in the doorway, holding onto the frame as if she feared being caught up in a sudden whirlwind.

  “Libby?” she whispered. “Are you still here?”

  I flickered into view beside the TV, and the screen turned to snow. “I’m here.”

  Monica jumped, but this time she didn’t scream. I suspected the clenching of her jaw and the back of her hand shoved against her mouth was the single reason she didn’t. Slow, deep breaths appeared to calm her.

  “Did you do that?” She pointed to the TV. I looked and moved away from it.

  “Sorry. I can’t control it sometimes.”

  “Libby, you’re… You…”

  “I’m not,” I insisted. “Please believe me, Monica. I’m not dead.”

  Tears filled my friend’s cheeks and slid down her face. “What else can I believe? You went to that store and now this? George—”

  “I know but you said yourself, I could be in a hospital.”

  She sprung into action and pounded out four-one-one. Soon she had the number for the nearest hospital and gave my description to the operator who answered the general line. With no luck there, Monica called seemingly every hospital within fifty miles of Summit’s Edge. One or two matched my description, but in both cases, the families had already identified their loved one. With the last reasonable hope fading, Monica placed her cell phone on the side table and sat in silence.

  “Libby?” she said after five minutes.

  “Yes?”

  “I have to call Mason.”

  “No!” The TV screen brightened and then went dark. I hoped I hadn’t busted it. A new set was also not in my budget, as were a lot of other items. I knelt before Monica, and to her credit, she didn’t shrink away, but goose bumps did rise on her cocoa skin. She ran palms over her arms as if to ward off cold, and I shifted back a little, giving her space. “Please, just give me a little time, Monica. I’ll figure this out. I’ll find my body, and everything will go back to normal.”

  “You know I love you, girl,” Monica said with earnest. “But I have to think of what’s best for Jake too. Don’t you think he’s scared with you not here? He doesn’t know what happened. All he knows is his mom is gone. I lied to him and told him there was a family emergency that you had to go take care of, but you will be back soon.”

  I flinched. Neither Monica nor I liked lying to Jake, and if losing my body hadn’t killed me, being away from my baby would. “We don’t have any family that I know of. Jak
e knows that too. There was only Mason, Mama, him, and me. Then I divorced his dad, and Mama passed.”

  “And me,” Monica reminded me.

  I touched her hand. She didn’t shiver, but she stared down at my wispy hand, barely there.

  “I’m going to fix this, Monica,” I insisted.

  “How? Are you going to call him and tell him yourself that you’ll be back soon?”

  I wrung my hands. “I can’t use the phone.”

  She blinked.

  I pointed to the TV. “Something like that will happen, and a bunch of noise. I don’t understand it all.”

  “So what will you do?”

  I stood up and paced the room. Monica watched me float from one end to the other, her eyes full of curiosity and awe.

  “If I store up some energy, I can materialize completely. I haven’t been able to hold it more than a minute, but I think I might be able to stretch it longer with rest. Then I will show myself to Jake, and he will feel better. We can tell him I’m not feeling well and you can stay here and look out for him while I can’t.”

  Monica’s eyebrows rose, and she folded her arms across her chest. “You’re assuming I’m going to go along with this crazy plan.”

  I pressed my palms together as if I intended to pray. “A week at most, Monica. Please?”

  She made an annoyed sound and rolled her eyes.

  “Pretty please?”

  “A week, Libby. Not a day longer, and you be here tomorrow morning to kiss your son good-bye when I take him to school. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I chirped, and concentrated hard to give her a brief hug and kiss and the cheek.

  Monica touched her face staring at me. “You are a ghost, aren’t you?”

  “What do you mean? You felt that didn’t you?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but it was weird. I don’t know how to describe it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Jake will notice the difference.”

  I held up a finger and smiled. “But I’m sick, remember? He will assume the clammy feel is just the fever.”

  “You say clammy. I say creepy.”

  I moaned. “Some friend you are.”

  “Hey, I’m letting you haunt me, aren’t I? Be grateful.”