Just as the moon has brought me to you,
So shall the moon bring you to the ball.
All Hallows Eve.
The Witching Hour.
It wasn’t just a note; it was an invitation—and even more absurd because of it. Who would invite a ghost to a ball? Was this some kind of joke?
Distractedly she realized that Halloween was tomorrow. Her houseguest had half-heartedly carved a couple of pumpkins and laid out a black cape in place of her lab coat. Even the boring human was going to be celebrating in her own quiet way.
The ghost looked up at the moon in shock as a feeling of well-being washed over her. The restless ache that sent her up here was gone, replaced with wonder and hope.
Maybe . . . maybe this wasn’t a joke at all but an answer.
If this was an opportunity to have an experience of her own, she wasn’t going to logic herself out of accepting it. It’s not like she had anything to lose.
Body or not, nothing would keep her from being ready tomorrow night.
Chapter Two
Nord
Holding the piece of parchment in his hand, he eyed it as if it were a snake. He trusted the bloody thing about as much as one of the venomous creatures and preferred to be holding it even less. A snake he could strangle. This . . .
Turning the invitation over once more, he scanned the elegant script. Moonbeams and bullshit if you asked him. The hell he’d be going to a ball.
Crumpling up the invitation, he chucked it into the aluminum basket beside his desk.
“What’s that?” his brother-in-arms asked.
“Garbage,” Nord answered.
“Mmhmm,” Finley murmured, moving around the recliner Nord was sprawled in and plucking the crumpled ball of paper from the bin.
Nord knew better than to try to stop him. No one told a Guardian what to do. Not without a lot of fists and unnecessary bloodshed.
Raising a brow, Finley looked back at him. “What’s The Monster Ball?”
He shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”
“Where’d you get this?”
Nord remained silent, not wanting to explain how it just appeared after the moonlight played some kind of trick on him the night before. Finley would send his ass back to the Brotherhood faster than he could blink, and Nord was enjoying his vacation after several centuries of servitude.
Not that he minded being a Guardian or what it entailed, but sometimes a guy just wanted to enjoy a beer—or ten—and a pretty girl.
Shaking his head, Finley placed the invitation on top of Nord’s cluttered desk. “You, of all people, should know better than to try to ignore something like this.”
“You go, then.”
“I’m not the one who got the invitation.”
Nord shot his brother a dark look. “I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are. Do you have something appropriate to wear?”
Rolling his eyes, Nord hit the volume button on the TV remote, trying to drown out the sound of Finley’s pestering.
“You can borrow something of mine.”
Snorting, Nord replied, “As if I could fit in one of your puny shirts.”
Finley was fit—all those who served in the Brotherhood of Guardians were—but he was easily dwarfed by Nord’s bulk. It would be like trying to wear a child’s shirt.
Smirking, Finley gestured to Nord’s black t-shirt and jersey shorts. “So you’re going to risk showing up in that?”
“I already told you I’m not going.”
“I don’t think you have a choice, mate.”
Nord snarled, which only made Finley laugh.
“Not even your bluster is going to get you out of this.”
“How do you know so much about the damn thing when you hadn’t even heard of The Monster Ball ten seconds ago?”
Finley’s eyes shone a brilliant silver, the color replacing their usual deep blue. “Some serious magic brought that to you.”
Unease ran through Nord’s veins as he watched Finley release his power. “You can sense it?” Nord asked, annoyed that he hadn’t thought to check himself. He’d been on vacation for three weeks and had already forgotten the basics.
Finley nodded. “Not the source, but it’s brimming with power. Nothing I’ve ever seen before. Whoever sent that to you isn’t going to accept your regrets.” Glancing at the clock, Finley shot him another half-grin. “You should probably find something to wear. You’ve only got forty minutes before midnight.”
Muttering under his breath, Nord pushed himself out of his chair and stalked into his bedroom. Finley tried to follow him, but Nord stopped him with a dark look and a palm to the chest.
“I think I know how to zip up my pants, asshole.”
“But what are you going to do about that beard?”
Nord froze, leveling an icy look at his friend. “What about my beard?”
Finley chuckled, shaking his head. “Mate. You look like you belong in a cave with a giant club and a bear pelt tied around your waist. Would it kill you to trim the thing? Or at least brush the crumbs out of it.”
“I do not have crumbs in it!” Nord insisted, moving toward the mirror hanging over his dresser.
He was not a vain man, but Nord took great pride in his beard. Centuries ago, when he’d been a boy with his tribe, he’d been taught that a man’s beard was a sign he was ready for battle; the fuller the beard, the greater a man’s strength. Now an immortal warrior in his own right, the lesson had never quite left him although many other things had.
Shrewd blue eyes scanned his tanned reflection. Frowning, Nord had to admit his beard was a bit scragglier than he remembered, the longest part of it reaching his chest. Running his hands along the length of it, he muttered, “Maybe a trim wouldn’t be amiss.”
Throwing his hands up, Finley cried out, “Thank you!”
Nord glared at him.
“We’ll do your hair while we’re at it,” Finley declared, already moving down the hall toward his bathroom.
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
Finley shook his head. “No one wears their hair that long anymore, mate.”
Nord looked in the mirror at the mess of blond hair that hung down his back, not seeing anything wrong with it. It was thick and clean. What more was it supposed to be?
Coming back into the room, Finley held up his clippers and silver shears. “Trust me; you’ve been away for so long, you don’t know how to blend in anymore. Let me help you.”
Grudgingly, Nord nodded. If he was going to this damned ball, he didn’t want to look like an ass.
Finley cast a pointed glance at Nord’s hands.
Already knowing what he was going to say, Nord stopped him before he began. “The rings stay.”
Finley loved to make fun of Nord’s ring collection. Each band was a reminder of a long-ago battle fought and won. No matter what else he’d had to give up when he joined the Brotherhood, he’d refused to leave them behind. They were worn, ancient, and his most cherished possessions.
His father had crafted the first one after Nord had returned from his first solo hunt, a wild boar slung over his back. He’d used one of the beast’s tusks to create a smooth, ivory-colored ring. It didn’t fit anymore, but Nord still wore it on a chain around his neck.
The others were of various metals, each one forged from the weapon of a foe he’d slain. The last, the most important, was the one on his left index finger. His people generally saved that finger for their mate bands as it was said to be linked to the heart. Nord had no notions of being mated, having given his life to the Brotherhood. Instead, it’s where he wore the ring he crafted after avenging his father’s death.
Running his thumb over the smooth band, Nord frowned. Finley could change whatever he wanted about his appearance, but he’d gut the man—brother or not—if he tried to take his rings.
“Let’s get this over with,” Nord growled.
Chapter Three
Her
Time was complic
ated for ghosts. Days could feel like seconds in the span of the lifetimes she’d witnessed, but now that she had something to look forward to, the day crawled by. She refused to move from the kitchen clock, afraid that if she became distracted, she would miss her chance to find out if the invitation was real.
When the hands of the clock started to feel as though they were circling backwards, she gave up entirely and simply headed to the roof. She spent the hours until midnight, watching the children find their way back home after a night spent begging for candy. Tiny witches, ballerinas, and cowboys scurried across the streets, their shrieks of joy echoing off the buildings as they raced toward their next target. Their innocence touched her even as she envied them for it.
They were not the only ones wandering the streets tonight. Other, darker beings lurked in the shadows, the night just as much theirs as the children’s. She eyed such a creature as she watched him peel away from the darkness and follow a group of giggling women stumbling down the sidewalk. It was probably too late, but she hoped that they would find their way safely home.
A bell tolled in the distance, signaling the start of a new day and, hopefully, her first adventure.
She looked up to the sky, to the moon that shone with brilliant light. Almost afraid to hope, she watched as a beam of light grew brighter, surrounding her with its glow just as it had the night before. It soon became blinding, and she was aware of nothing but the shine of it all around her.
The light began to fade as quickly as it appeared, and instead of a rooftop, she found herself on a sidewalk. Trash littered the street, and the foul stench of something rotting wafted toward her from the alley on her right.
“Ugh,” she grimaced, freezing when the sound reached her ears.
It took her a moment to realize that she’d just heard herself. That she had a voice.
Looking down, she gasped. She didn’t just have a voice; she had a body.
Shaking, she lifted her hands to her face, feeling the warm skin beneath her fingertips. Giddy laughter left her as twin tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.
There was a car parked to her left, and she moved closer to try to see her reflection in its grimy windows. It was hard to make out any detail in the foggy glass, but there was a halo of golden waves brushing against her shoulders. She caught a flash of scarlet red, which she assumed were her lips, and lots of golden skin peeking out of a black dress. Glancing down, she realized the dress had a series of intricate cut-outs that were filled with flesh-colored mesh, giving the illusion of being practically naked beneath the swirls of black fabric that clung to her feminine curves.
Toes peeked out of strappy black heels; her nails painted the same scarlet as her lips. A quick check showed that her fingers matched as well. Twisting her arm, she noticed black markings along the length of her right forearm. It was hard to make sense of the five black crystals that were connected at the bottom with some sort of looping ring inside of it.
Wondering if she had any other tattoos, she took a few steps down the sidewalk to where a streetlight flickered with a weak yellow glow. Its harsh buzz of electricity was almost drowned out by the sound of car horns and other shouts.
She was sure she looked ridiculous to anyone who might spare her a passing glance, twisting around as she was, trying to see what she could of her back and arms under the dim light. In addition to the crystals on her forearm, she found one other tattoo.
The marking was stunning in its detail; the intricate scales of the snake on full display where its body looped around a dagger that looked sharp enough to cut her if she dared to run her fingers along its length. The snake was hissing; its tongue extended in a series of peaks and valleys she would have sworn were in the shape of the letter M. Just beneath its tongue, an arrow stretched out from the hilt of the dagger, and in the center, a white skull with a rictus grin stared out at her.
Beautiful but dangerous.
Was that what she was? Her fingers hovered over the tattoo, afraid to touch it and find out.
The rattle of a trashcan down the nearby alley made her jump. Eyes wide and heart racing, she stared down the dimly lit corridor, expecting something to fly out at her. When nothing happened, startled laughter poured out of her. She laughed until her stomach ached and her eyes were wet with tears.
Somehow, someway, she was alive.
No longer afraid, she began to make her way down the dark alley, a strange compulsion to see what was waiting for her at the end luring her forth, even though she could hardly make out more than the shape of her hand stretched in front of her.
She came to a stop in front of a bright red door flanked by two massive gargoyles.
What now?
Lifting a hand to knock, she froze when the gargoyles came to life, swooping down from their perch and transforming into two deliciously attractive, practically identical winged-men standing on either side of the door.
She admired their dark skin and the muscles showcased under their white button-up shirts and tailored jackets. Eyes traveling lower, she appreciated the way the slim cut of their pants hugged their legs. She finally smiled outright when she caught sight of the shiny red shoes the one on her left wore. They might be imposing, but these two clearly knew how to have a good time.
“Hello, there,” she purred, fingers already itching to explore as she met the dark eyes of the man on her right.
He grinned. “First time?”
She nodded, her smile stretching further. “Promise to take it easy on me?” she flirted, leaning a little closer.
His eyes twinkled mischievously as they moved over her body. “Not on your life.”
“Good,” she whispered, winking at him. “I’d hate for the night to be a dud.”
The twins laughed.
“I doubt you’ll be bored . . .” the one with the red shoes said, trailing off at the end to indicate he was waiting for a name.
“Lina,” she supplied, not sure where the name came from, only that it sounded right.
“Lina,” he repeated in his deep voice.
“If there are more of you inside, I’m sure I’ll find something to occupy my time,” she continued, pretending to fan herself with one hand while crossing the fingers of her other.
“All we need is your ticket, and you’re good to go.”
There was a flare of panic as she realized she had no clue where her ticket ended up. It wasn’t like she’d been holding it when the light transported her. She hadn’t even been capable of it if she’d wanted to.
Whatever force had brought her would have made sure she had everything she needed. . . Hell, it had already taken care of her little corporality issue and made sure she was properly attired.
Hands patting her body, she let out a relieved “ah-ha” when she felt the edge of the paper tucked into the front of her dress. Thank you! She sent the thought out to whatever entity had been looking out for her thus far.
She felt the twins’ eyes on her as she plucked the paper free and held it out to them with a grin.
Her friend with the red shoes took the ticket from her and held it up to his nose, eyes closing as he inhaled.
“In you go, troublemaker,” the one to her right said, his smile telling her he found her amusing.
“That’s the plan,” she informed them, eagerly moving forward as the red door swung open. She paused for a second to ask if she’d see them inside, but the brothers were already gone.
“Huh,” she muttered, shrugging it off and crossing the threshold into a long hallway.
The door slammed shut behind her, and a bright fluorescent light flickered once before plunging her into complete darkness. If she was anyone else, the darkness might have frightened her, but there was something familiar about the sense of being nothing more than consciousness floating in the abyss.
It wasn’t long before the pulsing beat of music reached her. Narrowing her eyes, Lina could make out a smattering of rainbow lights in the distance.
She moved quickly, p
roud that she didn’t stumble once for a being not used to having legs. Lina reached the end of the hallway, her eyes hungrily drinking in her surroundings. The room opened up before her, a thick layer of smoke hovering over the floor, casting the illusion of being among the clouds. The lights pulsed and changed in time with the music, looking like a massive storm cloud above her.
The majority of the space was taken up by a dance floor where guests were already grinding against each other. Lina was eager to join them; certain she’d find a willing partner easily enough. But first . . .
Her eyes had caught sight of a bar in front of her and just to the left. Metal stools stood in front of a cement slab marbled with illuminated crystals. Behind them were glowing blue shelves filled with bottles.
Licking her lips, Lina plunged forward. She’d witnessed enough drunken debauchery to know that she was more than willing to experience it firsthand. The euphoria that seemed to accompany drinking was something she would not pass up, given the opportunity.
One of the stools was free, so she slid up onto it, feeling her already short dress slide higher up her legs as she swiveled to face the bar.
“What are you having?”
Lina’s eyes lifted up from the crystals that were currently a deep red and into emerald eyes that glittered like gems. For a second, Lina would have sworn she saw a hint of flame burning inside them. It was a full heartbeat before she was able to blink and remember to answer his question.
The golden-haired bartender grinned as if he knew the impact he’d had on her.
“I-uh . . . what do you recommend?” she asked.
“You good with heat, beautiful?” he asked.
Not having a clue, she lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug, feeling her hair fall back. “Love it.”
That brought a smile to his handsome face. “I’m sure you do,” he murmured, grabbing bottles faster than she could track.
“Nice ink,” she said, gesturing toward the scales that spilled out from beneath his white t-shirt and covered his arm.
The Monster Ball Year 2 Page 15
