Ghostly Charms

by Lily Harper Hart

  His grin widened. “I think you’re a big deal no matter what you do. As for the ghost, you’ll figure it out. You always do. How about we put talk of dead barbers, troubled teenagers, and wacky ghosts behind us for the rest of the night, huh? Let’s just focus on us for the next few hours.”

  “You read my mind.”

  HARPER FLOATED INTO SLEEP. Back in the real world, she consciously knew she was in her own bed, naked, Jared wrapped around her. His chest was pressed to her back, his face buried in her hair. She could hear him breathing from her spot in the dreamscape ... and yet he felt far away.

  “Hello?”

  She found herself in a dark forest, the only light coming from an overly large moon. She knew it wasn’t real. She recognized it was a figment of her imagination. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that washed over her.

  “Where am I?”

  She looked around, determined. This is a dream. This is a dream. She repeated it over and over again. She refused to be frightened of a dream ... and yet her heart pounded faster than was normal and her mouth was dry.

  Something wasn’t right here.

  “Jared?” she called out to him even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. He was in his own dreamworld, and it was undoubtedly more entertaining than this one. Still, she wanted him. “Jared.”

  “I’m here,” he called out, causing her to jolt.

  When she glanced over her shoulder, she found him picking his way through the dense foliage. She wasn’t the type to freak out, or believe she needed a man to take care of her. She threw herself at him all the same, though, letting loose a sigh when his arms came around her.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered, smoothing her hair.

  “I don’t like it here.”

  “So leave.”

  “I can’t. I was brought here for a reason.” She didn’t understand how she knew that, but she felt it to her very soul. “I have to see something, and I don’t think it’s something good.”

  “You don’t have to see anything you don’t want to see. We can leave here together.”

  Harper pulled back so she could stare at his face. He looked the same, his piercing eyes staring into her soul, his strong chin pointing at her. It wasn’t him, though. Internally, she recognized that. He wasn’t her Jared.

  “Who are you?” Her tone was accusatory as she very slowly, very deliberately, pulled back. “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you kidding? You called me here.”

  He didn’t even sound like her Jared, she realized. He was one of those dream concoctions. One person masquerading as another. She didn’t recognize the soul underneath, though. “Who are you?” Her voice was cold. “You’re not Jared.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because ... because you don’t feel right. I never feel wrong with my Jared. You feel wrong on every level.”

  “That’s ... disappointing.” Slowly, the familiar visage faded away and what was left was a young man who bore some resemblance to Jared, but only in the most superficial way. He had the same dark hair, the same keen eyes. Nothing else was the same, though. He had diminutive shoulders and a weak chin. He also had a weak quality about him that set Harper’s teeth on edge.

  “You’re the ghost I saw in the trees,” she noted as she swallowed hard and glanced around. There was nothing familiar about this forest. She’d spent enough time in the woods surrounding her home that she would be able to recognize certain landmarks. None of them were present, though. That meant she was someplace else. “Where is this?”

  “Another time, another place.” The boy turned his attention to a path that Harper hadn’t noticed upon first glance. “This way.” He started walking as if her being trapped in a dream with him — someone she’d never met — was the most normal thing in the world.

  She remained rooted to her spot, uncertain. “Where are we going?”

  “To see something.”

  “What?”

  “Just ... something.” He didn’t look over his shoulder and instead kept moving forward.

  Harper gnawed on her bottom lip as she tried to decide what to do. On one hand, she didn’t like being manipulated. He’d taken Jared’s face and appropriated it because ... well, she still didn’t know why. She didn’t like it either way, however.

  Of course, she didn’t like the idea of remaining behind either.

  “Fine.” She threw up her hands and started to follow. “This is weird, though. I don’t even know what to make of this.”

  “It won’t take long,” he said. “What you need to see is right through here.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” She glanced at the ground to make sure she didn’t trip over anything and when she lifted her eyes again she found he was gone. Panic she thought forgotten returned with a vengeance and she hurried forward. “Hey? Where are you? I ... .” Whatever she was going to say died on her lips as she burst through the line of trees and found herself in a small clearing.

  She wasn’t alone.

  There, at the center of the circle, was the ghost. He was on the ground, cowering, and holding his hands over his face. “Don’t kill me,” he pleaded.

  Harper was beyond confused. “Who are you talking to? I’m not going to kill you.”

  He didn’t respond to Harper’s words. His attention was on someone else.

  The sense of dread returned and her stomach twisted as she tried to focus on the shadowy figure moving in at her left. It was another man — she could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way he walked — although his features were completely hidden.

  “What’s going on?” Harper asked, her voice cracking when she saw the entity remove what looked to be a knife from the folds of a non-descript black hoodie. “Oh, geez. What’s going on?”

  The boy on the ground tried to make himself small as he begged for his life. He pleaded, over and over, and yet he didn’t try to get up and run. He remained on the ground as the dark form advanced.

  “Oh, my ... .” Harper slapped her hand over her eyes when an arm shot out, the moonlight hitting the knife at just the right angle to create a blinding glint that smacked her right in the eyes. The boy on the ground screamed as the menacing figure began laughing.

  Lucas Olsen.

  No one said the name, and yet Harper heard it whispered. It rode the wind, whipping through her hair and into her heart.

  Lucas Olsen.

  Avenge him.

  Help him.

  Send him on.

  Lucas Olsen.

  Harper’s breath clogged in her throat and even though she knew she shouldn’t look back in the direction of where the boy had knelt, she couldn’t stop herself. There, as her heart shredded, she found him sightless and staring at the night sky. The individual who killed him still didn’t have a face, although she could hear him hocking up something from his throat and he spit it in the direction of the body as he returned to the trees.

  “You shouldn’t have betrayed me,” the killer said before disappearing. “You had this coming.”

  Her chest heaved as she tried to rein in her emotions and gain control of her rampaging mind. She couldn’t, though. She was beyond panicking at this point, and she was having trouble breathing.

  “Stop. Stop. Stop.”

  She clawed at her throat, as if to physically open an airway. As she did, she bolted to a sitting position in her own bed, her eyes going wide as shocked realization washed over her. She panted as oxygen filled her lungs and her eyes caught with those of a ghost.

  It was the same face from her dream. He was no longer dead on the ground but aware and watching her. He looked apologetic, but he didn’t move to soothe her. That was best, Harper realized. If he floated in her direction, she really would scream.

  “You have to help me,” he whispered. “I need you to … finish this. You need to find me.”

  “You’re right here,” Harper growled. “I see you. I don’t need to find you.”

 
“Find me,” he repeated as he began to disappear. “Find me ... and end this.”

  He was gone before she could ask another question. And, because the emotions of the night were too much, she let loose an overwhelmed sob. Beside her, Jared reached out and drew her close. He was asleep and yet still aware.

  “Shh,” he whispered as he pulled her tight. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

  And, because he was, Harper let herself go. She turned into him and buried her face into his chest.

  What had she seen? What did it mean? And how was she supposed to help?

  9

  Nine

  Harper woke long before Jared. She remained close to him, absorbing his warmth, and when he finally opened his eyes as the sun crossed the horizon, he found her staring at him.

  “You’re up early.” He stretched and smiled, and then realized that her eyes were clouded. “What’s wrong?”

  She thought about brushing off the question. She would never lie to him. She didn’t want him to worry, though, and he would spend the day checking on her if she wasn’t careful. However, she needed to talk to someone and he was her first choice.

  “I had a dream.”

  “A bad one?” His fingers were gentle as they brushed the hair away from her face. It was even messier than normal. “Is that why you were up last night?” He had a vague recollection of her stirring.

  She nodded. “It was horrible.” She told him because she couldn’t not, and when she was finished, he drew her closer and pressed his lips to her forehead. Her skin was cold, despite spending the night wrapped around one another.

  “I wish you would’ve woken me,” he murmured. “If you were afraid ... .”

  “What could you have done?” Harper found she was agitated with herself, and by extension, him as well. “It was my stupid head acting up.”

  “I happen to like your stupid head.” As if to prove it, he kissed her forehead again. “Heart, this is why I’m here. You’re supposed to tell me when you’re upset.”

  She found the statement laughable. “I’m supposed to tell you when I have a nightmare? That sounds ... weak.”

  He bit back a sigh, but just barely. “There’s nothing weak about being upset. I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  “What am I supposed to say?” She was beyond frustrated. “I feel like a ... a ... weenie. It was just a dream.”

  On there they would have to part ways. “You mentioned the ghost yesterday, long before you had the dream. You said he was in our room and he talked to you after you woke up. I have to believe you didn’t imagine that.”

  “So?”

  “So ... I think he gave you the dream. He wants you to help him.”

  Harper had figured that out herself. “How am I supposed to help him when I don’t recognize him?”

  “Well ... that’s a conundrum, but it’s not insurmountable.” He thought long and hard, his hand a steady presence on her back as he tried to rub the trouble from her mind. He wouldn’t be successful — couldn’t really — but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. “We need to research missing or dead men in the area. How old did you say you think he is?”

  “Young. Maybe ... sixteen. I guess he could be in his twenties, which is what I originally thought, but that doesn’t feel right to me. I think he was a teenager.”

  “A minor? I mean ... under eighteen?”

  “Yeah. That feels right.”

  “Well ... then I’ll do some research when I get to work. I doubt a story like the one you told me about would simply be forgotten, even if it happened years ago. What can you tell me about what he was wearing?”

  “What does that matter?” Harper knew she was brooding, but she couldn’t quite manage to stop herself.

  “Because, if his clothing is dated, that might give me a timeframe.”

  “Oh.” She felt like a ninny. That made sense. “You want to know if he was wearing anything Day-Glo or maybe a band T-shirt.”

  “That would be helpful.”

  Her forehead wrinkled as she screwed up her concentration. “I don’t know. Let me think. He was wearing jeans and a black shirt. He was also wearing a hoodie. That’s one of the things that threw me off, how I knew it wasn’t you. The hoodie stood out.”

  Jared was now officially confused. “Me?”

  Her cheeks burned when she realized what she’d let slip. She’d left out the little detail of the boy shape-shifting and briefly looking like him. “Oh ... um ... .”

  “I think you left something out of the story,” he said seriously. “Maybe you should tell it again, from the beginning.”

  “Fine.” She blew out a sigh. “I knew there was something wrong when I woke up in the dream. I mean ... I knew it was a dream. Does that make sense?” When he only nodded, she continued. “The woods felt odd, off somehow. I think I knew something bad was going to happen. Even though I knew you couldn’t hear me, I called out to you. I wanted you with me.”

  His heart did a long, slow roll. “I’m sorry.”

  Her annoyance with herself only increased. “What exactly are you sorry for? You can’t control what happens in my head. That’s not on you.”

  Jared wasn’t so sure. They had a profound influence on one another for a reason. Still, now wasn’t the time to debate that. “And it was the hoodie that tipped you off? I own a hoodie. I think.”

  She smiled. “You don’t wear it, though. I’ve kind of taken it over. You’re just not a hoodie guy for the most part, something that Zander approves of, by the way. He hates hoodies.”

  “Shawn wears hoodies all the time.”

  “And he hates them. It wasn’t just the hoodie, though. He didn’t talk like you. He didn’t feel like you.”

  “Feel?” Something horrible occurred to Jared. “You didn’t, like, kiss him, did you?”

  Harper rolled her eyes. That was such a guy thing to worry about. “No. I hugged him, though, because I was excited to see you. It just wasn’t right. I don’t know how to explain it.

  “When you and I are together, there’s a vibe,” she continued. “It feels as if we were always supposed to be together. I know this is schmaltzy, but I sometimes I think our hearts yearned for one another and life wasn’t complete until we found each other. Our hearts stopped searching when they connected.”

  “That is completely schmaltzy ... and I happen to agree.” He grinned and smacked a kiss against the corner of her mouth. He was desperate to get her to loosen up but that didn’t appear to be happening. “I’m just glad you knew it wasn’t me. This bodes well in a body snatchers situation.”

  She didn’t want to laugh. The emotion didn’t match her mood. She couldn’t stop herself, though. “I’m glad we’re okay in that scenario. We’ll have a leg up on the rest of the population.”

  “We definitely will,” he agreed. “Go back to the boy, though. What did he say when you called him on not being me?”

  “Nothing. He didn’t even apologize. He just asked me to follow him into the woods.”

  “And you obviously did.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just for the record — and I know this was a dream and you can’t always control dream logic — but don’t do that in the real world. If some weird guy tries to get you to follow him into the woods, don’t go.”

  Now she did laugh, full on. “I think I can handle that.”

  “I’m just making sure.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” It felt good to laugh so she relaxed a bit, although the terror from the previous night still lingered at the edges of her psyche. “He wanted me to see what happened to him. The problem is ... I couldn’t see the face of the guy who attacked him and I don’t understand why he cowered on the ground like that. Why wouldn’t he at least try to run?”

  “I don’t know.” That part of the dream had bothered Jared, too. “It doesn’t make sense. And you’re sure you couldn’t make out any features on the attacker?”

  “No. I just know it was a guy. The shoulde
rs were too broad, the thighs too thick, to be a woman. I’m positive on that front.”

  “Well, that’s at least something.” He idly ran his hand up and down her back. “That’s not a lot to go on but there are things we can check, including bodies of young men found in the woods. Knife attacks are specific.”

  “Unless his body wasn’t found for a long time and there was no soft tissue.” Harper was familiar enough with police procedure to recognize Jared’s concerns. “His death might’ve been ruled an accident for all we know, and that’s assuming that his body was ever found. I didn’t recognize the woods. He could be anywhere.”

  “Well ... it would be helpful if we had a name.”

  Something sizzled in the back of Harper’s brain and she bolted to a sitting position, her blond hair flying. “Oh!” That’s when the whispers came back. She’d initially forgotten them and she felt like an idiot. “Lucas. Lucas Olsen.”

  Jared studied her profile, confused. “I don’t understand. If you know his name ... how? Did he tell you?”

  “No. The trees whispered it.”

  That was a new detail and Jared didn’t quite know what to make of it. “Um ... .”

  “I know it sounds ludicrous,” she said hurriedly. “It makes me sound like a complete looney tunes. It’s true, though. I heard the name.”

  “Is that the victim’s name?”

  “I don’t know. I guess it could be the killer’s name. I didn’t give it a lot of thought.”

  “Well, it’s definitely something to go on. I’ll set up a search when I get to the office. Technically Lionel’s death has to be my first priority — especially since we have no idea when this other death occurred, or if it was even in Whisper Cove — but I promise to at least start the search so we can get answers.”

  “You have to do your job.” Harper was insistent. “You can’t worry about me.”

  “Um ... I hate to break it to you, but I’m always going to worry about you.” He tugged her until she was on top of him and he could wrap her in his warmth. “You’re my top priority. That’s not going to change.”