I staggered back from him until I hit the wall. A framed picture of a field of daisies crashed to the floor.
“Oh, my God! Owen, what the hell is going on here? What are you doing? You’re possessing Thierry’s body!”
Thierry’s normally restrained and unreadable expression turned sheepish—definitely a look I’d never seen from him before. “This seems to be the logical conclusion.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” I pointed at the door in a furious thrusting motion. “Get out of my husband right now!”
He spread his hands. “Can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can!”
Now he looked at his hands, back and front. “No, I’m in here, like, pretty solidly. And just for the record, it’s not as if I was even trying to do this in the first place. Before, when the three of us were talking in here, I disappeared. I went to this cold, dark place with nothing to look at. So boring! And then, shazam, I was looking out from Thierry’s eyes. I had nothing to do with it. It just happened!”
I grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and stared up into his eyes. “Thierry, are you in there?”
Owen frowned. “Nope, I don’t think so. I can’t hear a thing.”
“And you were just going to pretend to be him? Until when? After we’d slept together?”
He grimaced. “Putting it like that makes me sound kind of sleazy.”
I let out a cry of outrage. “You’re disgusting!”
“What can I say? I’m a man! I have needs!”
I dug my fingernails into his arm. “Bring Thierry back and get out of his body.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know how to do that.”
Panic twisted around me like magical vines, tightening until I could barely breathe. Somehow, some way, Owen had possessed Thierry’s body. And Thierry himself was currently AWOL.
It must have happened while I was in the shower. This was why Thierry had taken off to go to the karaoke bar alone. Because he actually hadn’t. Owen had.
Grabbing his arm, I pulled him with me out into the hallway to find Heather. I didn’t know which room was hers, so I just started pounding on every door.
“Heather!” I yelled. “I need you! Right now! Where are you?”
Finally, she emerged, bleary-eyed, from the last room. She pulled her powder blue bathrobe tighter around her. “Sarah, what’s wrong?”
“The séance you did last night to summon Owen’s spirit,” I began.
“What about it?”
“It worked.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “It did?”
“This”—I yanked on Owen’s borrowed sleeve—“is the result. Owen’s spirit is now possessing Thierry’s body.”
Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. “You have got to be joking.”
My heart pounded. “Nope. No joking. Not even feeling the least bit humorous right now, actually.”
She looked up at Thierry’s face. “Owen? Is that really you?”
He eased away from my viselike grip. “You did a séance, Heather? For me? That’s so nice!”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You and me both,” I grumbled. “You need to fix this. Now.”
Her face had lit up. “This is a miracle. Owen, it’s really you?”
He nodded. “The one and only.”
She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
Normally, I might find this endearing. The girl with the crush gets her chance for closure with the vampire she’s in love with. However, my patience had worn right to the breaking point in a matter of minutes. “As heartfelt as this reunion is, and I hate to sound overly bossy, but it’s over. Right now.”
She finally turned to me. “It is?”
“Yes! Thierry’s gone.” I tried very hard to calm myself. This could be fixed. It would all be put right again quicker than ordering a pizza. “Look, I don’t know how possession works. I’m not even an expert on vampires, let alone ghosts and spirits. All I know is that you need to do something to get Owen out of Thierry’s body and return him to normal.”
Her joyous expression faded at the edges. “Oh. Um, how am I supposed to do that?”
This was not what I wanted to hear at all. “I hoped you’d know.”
“I don’t think Thierry would mind if I borrowed his body for a little while,” Owen said, disconcertingly in Thierry’s voice.
I tightly gripped the railing that looked over to the main floor. “How long’s a little while?”
He shifted in his Italian leather loafers. “I’d prefer if we leave that open-ended.”
I shook my head violently. “No way. I’m sorry about what happened to you, Owen. Seriously, I am. But I can’t allow this. I know you would have kept pretending to be him if I hadn’t figured it out.”
He grimaced. “I guess I’m not very good at acting dour.”
All that was needed here was a little direction and I could get this back on track. “Heather, you need to do another séance. You can summon Owen’s spirit right out of this body.”
I thought for a moment she might resist. After all, her dream vampire had just been resurrected into the body of another tall, handsome man. Hopefully she’d changed her vixen ways since high school. Since all I had to go on was Miranda’s scotch-colored word, I was willing to give Heather the benefit of the doubt.
Finally, she nodded in agreement. “We can try.”
A wave of relief splashed up, currently only ankle high. “Good.”
She went to wake her grandmother, so we could all gather around the round table just as we had last time. Even Hoppy was there.
Owen, in current possession of Thierry’s body, looked depressed.
“This sucks.” He pouted.
I didn’t like seeing a pout on Thierry’s face. He might be well-known for his glower, but he never pouted. “I know. But you have to see this is wrong. Right?”
His pout deepened. “Yeah. I can’t steal a body. Especially if there are witnesses.”
So if there weren’t witnesses, he would be fine and dandy with keeping a stolen body?
“If I can be the one to see the silver lining in this, it is a tangible sign of your burgeoning powers, Heather,” Rose said excitedly. Her white hair was up in curlers, and she wore a zippered purple velour robe. “I’m proud of you, honey.”
Heather wrung her hands anxiously. “Yeah, well, it didn’t exactly work like I thought it would.”
“Could the séance last night have done this?” I asked. “Like, on a delay since it took so long for his spirit to even show up?”
Rose nodded. “Certainly. The spirit world is a vast one. Sometimes there are issues with travel to the afterlife.”
I had that problem with a travel agent once. This, however, wasn’t as simple as being stuck at an airport all day after a missed connection.
Thierry, wherever you are, please be patient. I can fix this.
We all held hands.
“Do you have anything that belonged to Thierry?” Heather asked. “I thought we should check to see if his spirit is wandering loose from the rest of his body.”
At my glare, Owen cringed. “Remember, this wasn’t my fault.”
“So you keep telling me.” I tried to restrain myself from wringing his neck. “Do I have anything that belonged to Thierry? Well, his body seems like a good thing. It’s sitting right next to me and you’re holding his hand.”
“Oh, um. Good point.” Heather cleared her throat nervously. “Then I should probably get started.”
She went silent and studied the smooth wooden surface of the table. Her grip on my hand grew tighter. She didn’t close her eyes and she didn’t say anything to start summoning spirits.
“Are we going to start?” I prompted after a full minute went by.
“Is something wrong, dear?” Rose asked, concerned.
Heather inhaled deeply. “I have something to say first. In case I don’t get the chance later.”
Her gaze ros
e to look at Thierry. Or rather, Owen.
“I’m so sorry you’re gone,” she said, her voice breaking.
He nodded. “That’s sweet. Yeah, it’s kind of sucky. Like I can’t even wrap my head around all my questions. What’s Heaven going to be like? Are girl angels hot? Can I still fool around? That sort of thing, you know?”
With statements like this coming out of his mouth, I was shocked it took me more than thirty seconds to figure out the truth. Honestly, I was embarrassed.
Her expression tensed and she shook her head. “Stop it. I know you’re just putting on this facade and trying to be strong.”
I stared at the two of them. I honestly didn’t think Owen was putting on a brave front for her. I actually believed he was pondering how many hookups he might achieve in the afterlife.
Heather let out a long, shaky sigh. “Okay, I’m just going to say it.”
Hoppy croaked. She stroked his head absently.
“I love you, Owen.” She let out a giddy little laugh. “There. I said it. It wasn’t that hard after all. I love you.”
Rose and I watched Owen for his reaction.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat. “That’s nice. Thanks. That’s . . . really sweet of you to say.”
Heather’s cheeks flushed. “Nice? Sweet? Doesn’t it mean anything to you?”
“Of course.” He nodded. “It means tons. I really appreciate that.”
“That’s it? That’s the only reaction I get?”
Owen grimaced. “I’m sorry if I’m disappointing you, but . . . I mean, don’t get me wrong. I like you. But I always got more of a sister vibe from you. I never got any romantic vibe. Anyway, I thought you were still kind of hung up on that other dude you were dating before.”
She stared at him. “I’ve imagined this moment in my head so many times, but it always turned out way differently than this.”
“Um,” Owen began, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re super cute. But it’s just not like that between us.”
A shiver of electricity sped down my arms and the candles began to flicker. I glanced around the room with alarm.
What was that?
“Anyway, dear,” Rose said from across the table, squeezing her granddaughter’s hand. “Let’s get on with it, yes?”
It was enough to bring Heather back to the moment. The flickering stopped and the strange tingling feeling went away.
Heather might be a more powerful witch than she believed she was, after all. It made me both uneasy—since I wasn’t sure how far I could trust the girl—and reassured. If she had more magic than I thought, then she’d be able to help fix this problem.
I mentally crossed my fingers.
“Everyone close your eyes.” Heather didn’t sound quite as happy and joyously in love after Owen’s “I like you as a friend” admission as she had earlier. Couldn’t say I entirely blamed her there.
“You know, Sarah, we can discuss this,” Owen murmured. “I know Thierry was probably a bit too much of a curmudgeon for you—”
“Please stop talking,” I said tightly.
“I think I’d make a fabulous husband. We could have lots of fun together. I’m only two hundred and six. I’m a third Thierry’s age. I exude youth from my very pores. Seriously. I do.”
“You’re going to exude more than youth in a minute. Heather? Can we move this along?”
“Yes, of course.” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. I did the same. “I’m reaching out into the spirit world to inquire if there is a Thierry de Bennicoeur there. Someone who does not belong there since it is before his time. Is he there? Thierry?”
Silence fell—a weighty silence with only the tick of the grandfather clock as its soundtrack. I waited, squeezing both Owen’s and Rose’s hands, and just tried to breathe.
There was a whisper of cool air a minute later. I opened an eye.
“Hello again!” Lorenzo’s disembodied head exclaimed merrily.
I grimaced. “Oh no. Heather!”
She opened her eyes and frowned. “Lorenzo, you’re back.”
He nodded. “I’m feeling much better than last time. Yet, alas, still no body.”
Heather’s face paled. “I see that.”
“Lorenzo,” Rose ventured, as calm as if there was nothing odd at all about this situation. “Maybe you can be of help.”
“I’d be happy to be helpful to anyone. Except my wife, that is! Did I mention that she poisoned me? She’s like a black widow spider!”
“You weren’t poisoned,” Rose assured him. “And Maria had nothing to do with your death, I assure you. You choked to death.”
His expression turned sour. “She made me choke to death!”
“No, she didn’t. It was an unfortunate accident.”
Lorenzo frowned. “Maybe you’re right. But she wanted to poison me. She told me so every day!”
“Lorenzo . . .” I took over. “Do you know anything about possession?”
“Certainly. What do you want to know, young lady?”
“How do you do it?”
He pursed his lips. “Oh, that’s very difficult. It takes a strong spirit to possess a living body, but it is possible.”
A chill zipped down my arms. “And where does the spirit of the original person go when and if another spirit is successful in possessing them?”
He shrugged. Which, since he didn’t currently have shoulders, was rather impressive. “Nowhere. Possession never lasts very long. A handful of minutes at the most; then the original occupant pushes back. It’s impossible to maintain a possession.”
Owen glanced at me, confused. “It’s not like that for me. I’m in here, like, solid. I don’t feel like I’m being pushed out at all. And I don’t sense Thierry.”
None of this was what I wanted to hear. But it confirmed that something bad had happened, something magical, and it wasn’t just a random fluke. “Lorenzo, what if the body is supernatural in some way? Would that make a difference?”
“Supernatural?”
“Like, it’s a . . . vampire?”
He reared back from me in horror. “Like Dracula?”
I sighed. “I don’t think he’s going to be much more help.”
Rose considered the ghostly face for a moment. “He doesn’t know. He can’t help us.”
“Eyes shut,” Heather commanded sharply.
I squeezed my eyes shut again, blocking out the shimmering image of the deceased Italian restaurateur’s face, blocking out any doubt and fears that had taken up residence in my mind.
“Thierry, where are you?” Heather said, her voice strong. “Come to us. You are welcome here.”
More silence filled the room. I counted the ticking clock all the way to sixty. I wanted this over and for life to return to normal. Or as normal as it could ever be.
Then I felt that whisper of cool air brush against my skin again.
“Sarah . . .”
My eyes popped open. There were now two Thierrys in the room with us. One seated next to me clutching my hand. The other standing to my left in the darkness. Despite wearing his familiar black suit, his form seemed to glow a little.
My breath ceased. “Thierry!”
He looked around the room slowly before his gaze fell on Owen and narrowed dangerously. “What is going on here?”
Relief mixed with dread. Good news, he seemed to be okay. Bad news, he was now doing an uncanny impression of a ghost.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Owen said sullenly, as if disappointed we’d managed to successfully contact the real Thierry. “I possessed you. So sue me.”
Thierry’s dark brows drew together and his gray eyes glittered. “I strongly suggest you unpossess me. Right now.”
My chair squeaked as I let go of both Rose’s and Owen’s hands and got up from the table.
“You’re here,” I said. “It’s going to be okay. We can fix this.”
I automatically reached forward to touch him, my hand
trembling, but his chest swirled like gray smoke. I stared at him in horror. I should have expected it, but it still managed to take me by surprise.
“It’s all right, Sarah,” he soothed, as if sensing my oncoming anxiety attack. He glanced down at himself as his body re-formed. “You’re right. We can fix this. And we will.”
My gaze shot to his. “The sooner the better.”
He nodded. “I agree.”
“This isn’t my fault.” Owen raised his hands as if warding off an expected onslaught of anger. Thierry appeared calm on the surface, but I suspected it was his growing anger that made the room feel colder than it had with Lorenzo.
“Then whose fault is it?” Thierry asked icily.
“We think it was a side effect of the séance last night,” Rose said. “My granddaughter is a more powerful witch than she ever would have believed.”
“You’re wrong. I can’t do magic like that.” Heather’s voice shook. “Any magic I have done in the past, aside from the odd séance, I’ve needed your grimoire for.”
“You have a grimoire?” Thierry asked Rose. “That could help us.”
A grimoire was a witch’s book of spells. Most witches had one that they updated regularly with new information—kind of like a really creepy diary.
“It doesn’t contain powerful magic since my magic was never powerful,” Rose said regretfully. “Just some spells to help my flowers grow, some pet obedience spells, and other simple magic. Nothing that could help you, I’m afraid.”
Thierry’s jaw tightened. “Then we have a problem.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Can’t you just take your body back?”
When he met my gaze, his finally softened. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”
“Have you ever dealt with anything like this before?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You seem so calm right now, it’s seriously freaking me out.”
“I seem that way.” His lips thinned. “Remember, though, I did tell you I’m a skilled liar.”
“Oh, crap,” I whispered.
He raised an eyebrow. “Bottom line, we need to find a solution. And it must be found in the next three days.”
“Why? What happens in three days?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
Bled & Breakfast Page 8
