From the Anthology Kissed From Beyond:
‘Til We Meet Again
By Stacey Kennedy
Copyright 2011 by Stacey Kennedy (Story from the anthology Kissed from Beyond)
“’Til We Meet Again” copyright 2011 by Stacey Kennedy
Cover Artist: PJ Edwards
Cover Art copyright 2011 PJ Edwards
ISBN - 978-0-9865931-6-1
‘Till We Meet Again, are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher and individual author, except for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.
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Chapter One
For so many years, isolated days and nights, Ethan had been stuck in purgatory. He’d been shuffled from home to home, living among people who were at first strangers, but became constant companions over time. For close to ten years now he’d called Twilight Antiques in Savannah, Georgia, his home.
The shopkeeper, Mrs. Higgins, finished her Sunday morning routine of putting the new antiques out she obtained at auction. He’d never grown attached to her, because she had no connection to him. In her seventies, wrinkles canvassed her skin and Ethan had watched them grow deeper throughout the years. Beneath the sign of her age, soft pale blue eyes still held the beauty of a warm woman. Her silver hair, cut prim and proper, sat in tight curls atop her head, like women of her age nowadays. She might be elderly, however, she still took pride in her appearance.
The antiques held monetary value. To Mrs. Higgins, they were much more than that—a piece of history to be cherished.
Like him.
Not an emotional attachment, a physical one. He couldn’t quite explain the reason his soul never crossed over after he died in the Civil War. Instead, he became bound to a chaise lounge he’d favored in the years he walked the earth. Without anyone to ask how or why, his life―or death―had become timeless.
He’d grown bored of watching decades ago.
The front door to the store chimed, drawing Ethan away from his thoughts as he lingered on the chaise. He sighed. Another customer to walk through the store and not give a second look at the chair he once loved, and still did.
“Hello there,” Mrs. Higgins said, greeting the woman.
“Hi,” a small, sweet voice responded in a tone Ethan found charming.
In all his time at the shop, he’d yet to see anyone walk through those doors who caught his eye. On the rare occasions a younger woman came into the store, none though, appealed to him on a physical level.
If he stood, he’d tower over her delicate frame. Her long, chocolate brown hair stood out against her pale skin, except for the pinkish tinge on her cheeks and baby blue eyes that held a note of sweetness.
He might be a ghost, nevertheless, a man still resided in his soul, and she, a woman to behold. Her beauty mesmerized him.
“How can I help you, my dear?” Mrs. Higgins asked in a rich southern accent.
“Have you heard of the Landsby home?” the woman asked.
Ethan could tell her heritage didn’t come from Savannah. She sounded American, yet not from around these parts.
“Yes, dear, are you the new owner?”
The woman shook her head. “No, Mrs. Nash is the owner. I’m the interior designer she hired.”
“Oh, so you’re here to furnish the house?”
The woman nodded. “I’m not from around here—”
“Where are you from, dear?” Mrs. Higgins interrupted.
“New York.” The woman smiled. “And the name is Cassandra Cole―Cassie.”
Ethan studied Cassie. All the dear comments seemed to displease her. What bothered her so? She fascinated him and he hadn’t been interested in anything or anyone for some time. How intriguing.
“Well, Miss Cassie,” Mrs. Higgins went on. “What can I help you with today?”
Cassie glanced around the store before meeting Mrs. Higgins gaze again. “Mrs. Nash decided the theme for the Landsby house should reflect its history. She wants to restore the home to its original condition.”
“A wise decision,” Mrs. Higgins agreed.
“So. . . .” Cassie looked around at the store. “I have some shopping to do.” She glanced back to Mrs. Higgins. “Do you have―or know of―a rental truck for hire to deliver what I purchase here today?”
“Mr. Pitts does deliveries for me. I’ll call him now and see he comes by with the truck soon to help you.”
Cassie smiled. “Thank you.”
She strode around the store, looking at the items spread out, and Ethan stayed with her. In fact, he drew in close and stood mere inches from Cassie watching a deep shudder run through her. “You’ve got a draft in here,” she called out to Mrs. Higgins.
Busy talking on the phone, Mrs. Higgins didn’t respond.
Ethan leaned away from Cassie to let the warmth wash over her body again, yet continued to study her. She appeared so focused, so determined, and so adorable.
His cold soul lit up with a heat he’d long yearned for.
* * *
A month passed since Cassie left her home in New York City to accept the job to build her design portfolio. A complete restoration of a Victorian home, not something she could’ve passed on. Besides, Mrs. Nash had offered her a ridiculous amount of money. Too many goods came from the job.
She missed home, though. Staying in a house under renovations didn’t appeal to her, but the contractors she’d hired finished today and she’d have the peace she sought. The physical renovations she could do without. Walls re-plastered, paint applied, all the wood in the home, including the hardwood floors, refinished. Now, onto the part she lived for, the reason she got into interior design. Giving a home personality with furniture and accents gave her a high like nothing else.
Mrs. Higgins seemed sweet enough, but if she called her dear once more, she’d blow a gasket. Such endearments weren’t for her. Granted, she looked younger than her twenty-five years, calling her such things though made her feel like a child. She’d worked hard to get here, put in long hours to prove herself capable. Hell, she’d moved into the empty house to renovate it while Mrs. Nash stayed in South Carolina. Being treated like an equal was not something she wanted, but demanded.
Mrs. Higgins, approached her. “Mr. Pitts will be along soon with the truck.”
“Wonderful,” she said, happy she wouldn’t have to lug all the furniture to the house herself. She scanned the antique shop, pleased with what she saw. “You have some wonderful pieces here.” An aged distressed dresser caught her eye, perfect for the vintage theme.
“Ahh, a beautiful piece I obtained not long ago,” Mrs. Higgins said. “Does the dresser interest you?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Mrs. Higgins spun on her heels. “I’ll grab a piece of paper and we’ll write down what you want so Mr. Pitts and his crew can load them up.” The woman hurried off and Cassie chuckled to herself. Clearly, the store made small sales and Mrs. Higgins’ eagerness to sell off some of the larger pieces showed in her fast pace. Moments later, the woman returned, clipboard in hand.
Cassie strode around the store to find treasures of all kinds. Her imagination ran wild with the design. “I’ll take these two wing back chairs.” Not looking back at Mrs. Higgins, she heard the pen moving against the paper.
“You do realize they don’t match?”
“Victoria-themes don’t require matching furniture. In fact, the design works better if they don’t.”
“If you say so, dear. I love the era, however, don’t know much about design,” Mrs. Higgins replied with a shake of her head.
Cassie continued on, choosing items to fill the home. Tables, throws, a couch, pillows, any item she thought would add to the home’s beauty. Last week, she’d bought a four-poster bed from a furniture store on the other side of town. A near impossible find at an antique shop, along with the outrageous price. Sticking to a modern piece of furniture fit her budget. She needed a place to sleep while staying at the house, so finding a bed had been her top priority the moment she arrived.
Not fifteen minutes later, Cassie stopped at a gorgeous chaise lounge. Fitted with crimson velvet, the fabric looked rich against the dark wood edging.
“Ahh, a real treasure,” Mrs. Higgins admired.
Cassie wanted to agree, although her mouth wouldn’t function. A cold wave washed over her, freezing her in place. Not a draft, but something made her stop.
The piece of furniture held power, compelling her to purchase the chaise. The reaction stunned her. She’d never been fond of chaises. Fine for reading, nothing more. “Do you know the history of the chair?”
“Oh, I’ve had it now for well over ten years.”
Surprise widened Cassie’s eyes. The well-worn piece didn’t look at all comfortable. Why would she hold onto it for so long? “Why not get rid of it?”
A slow smile spread across Mrs. Higgins’ face causing her wrinkles to hide her eyes. “All the pieces here have a history, my dear. To trash them, a grave travesty. I couldn’t throw away something once beloved.” She shook her head and clucked. “No, not an option to me.”
Cassie glanced back to the chaise and approached it again. She trailed a hand down the wood lining the sides and the cold air swirled around her again. Yet, a warm glow touched her soul. A sign she’d discovered a real treasure, however the chair would be more of an accent piece than a focal point.
She sat down on the uncomfortable lounge. The coldness in the air increased the longer she sat, still though, the warm glow of excitement stayed with her. In fact, it grew.
Whether it suited the home or not, the piece belonged to her. Might be a strange choice, but Cassie didn’t doubt herself. Her instincts never failed her. Something special lived in the chaise even if she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Chapter Two
Ethan paced the bedroom back and forth, beyond frustrated. Yes, he had yearned for a home to belong to. In the past three days though, he’d grown fonder of Cassie than of the house itself.
She’d become so captivated by her design, she hadn’t noticed his best efforts to show his presence. He never before cared whether the people around him remained ignorant to the fact their house was haunted. Now, he wanted Cassie to notice him— craved for her to acknowledge his existence.
In the last few days, he’d turned the lights on and off while she read in his chaise, moved her glass while she ate dinner, and even banged his feet against the floor to gain her attention. Either she did her best to ignore him or continued to be oblivious.
His patience had dimmed days ago.
Ethan stood by the bathroom door, not moving until the shower turned off. He might be desperate, but he was not a pervert. Privacy wasn’t a luxury, but a given right.
The bathroom door stood ajar. He cleared the doorway and froze mid-stride.
He should turn away, leave Cassie alone. How could he, with the sight of this stunning woman before him? Her slender body was still wet from the water and her hair dripped down her pert breasts, making drops of water run down her creamy skin. How he yearned for his tongue to follow the path of those droplets as it danced along her flesh.
Dear God, she had captivated him before he saw her naked. Now, he rejoiced in her beauty. She positioned herself on the edge of the tub and placed her foot onto the toilet seat, revealing the glistening of aroused sex. Her small hand circled her clitoris and her head fell back. Little moans echoed off the bathroom walls and if his cock could have hardened, it would have.
Damn it all to hell, he’d never been so enthralled by any woman, not even in life. Watching her, he cursed his spectral existence and his inability to assist her in finding pleasure.
His legs wobbled beneath him and he couldn’t stop from sinking to his knees. He lifted his gaze to her face as she dropped her head forward. With her mouth parted, her hand continued to swirl around her nub and her eyebrows drew together in focus.
Ethan studied her. Her skin appeared so smooth and flawless; he couldn’t find a single freckle or dark hair on her body.
He yearned to place his lips against her hot slick flesh and taste her. He’d never witnessed a woman giving herself pleasure, because he’d never been given the chance in life.
Now that he had, he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and didn’t know where to look—the hand sweeping across her swollen flesh or the expression on her face?
“Woman, you’re remarkable.” Ethan’s spoke through gritted teeth. “Look at you, bringing yourself to climax.” His gaze stayed trained on her hand as she rubbed faster and her moans deepened.
She raised her other hand to her breast and pinched her nipple. The color of her face deepened to a darker shade and her breath came in near pants.
He couldn’t take anymore. Crawling toward her, he knelt in front of her. He longed to smell her, have her arousal delighting his nostrils. His current predicament took that ability away.
Cassie’s eyes snapped open and landed on his. Her stare stayed with his, even though her eyes were clouded by pleasure. By the Lord above, he’d swear she saw him. His intrigue made him unable to stay quiet. “Do you know I’m here?”
She moaned.
Clarification? Not enough for him. “Can you feel me here?”
Her answering moan sent a wave of warmth over his cold form, yet she didn’t respond to him. Resolved to prove it true, he reached out and touched her leg. A shudder erupted through her, her eyes became hooded, and her breath hitched.
The build up to her climax exploded and she quivered. If his cock had worked, he’d have climaxed right with her.
Her trembling subsided and her breath whooshed from her lungs. She blinked, lowered her hand from her pussy and brought her foot down to the floor. Ethan waited for her to show a sign of acknowledgement.
She rose to her feet and strolled through him. He felt as if he’d been brought to the edge of his own orgasm, only to be starved of it.
* * *
What in the world had gotten into her? Ever since she returned from the antique store, her libido had run wild. Am I going mad?
Days and nights of weird happenings occurred around her―lights turning off, objects moving, all sorts of strange goings-on. Almost like being watched. And the weirdest part? She didn’t mind. It didn’t seem like some creep stood outside her window, peering at her. More so, like eyes of lust caressing her body.
Masturbation hadn’t been a daily event. As of late, her need increased. Still, she reminded herself, he lived in her imagination and she’d be better off not focusing on such silliness.
Right then, her cell phone rang from the bedroom. She rushed from the bathroom, scooped up her cell phone on the bed and answered it on the fourth ring. “Hello.”
“Well hello to you, too, stranger. Did the house eat you alive?” Her best friend, Stephanie Mayfield, laughed.
“No smartass, it didn’t. You should see the house now, it looks amazing.” She understood Stephanie’s attempt to goad her, the house was falling to pieces the day she arrived. Now though, it looked fantastic.
“So you’re almost done with the job?” Stephanie asked.
Cassie glanced around the room, furnished with the antiques she purchased at the store. “It’s coming together. In a week or so, I’ll be done. Got the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms finished―just the little things left.”
“Good.” Stephanie sounded relieved. “I’m bored and need you home.”
“Aw, you’ve missed me?” Cassie said.
Stephanie snorted. “You know I have.” Although closer than a sister, Stephanie wasn’t the type to get caught up in sentiments. “So, do you like it there in good ole’, Savannah?”
Cassie pondered the thought, hesitant to take the conversation where it needed to go. She craved getting all these weird happenings off her chest, to confirm she hadn’t lost her mind. “I like it all right, but, listen, I have a question for you. Do you believe in ghosts?”
Stephanie roared with laughter. “You did not just ask me that.”
Annoyance ran through Cassie, she did her best to hide it though. Stephanie would use her irritation against her, play with it a while. “Oh hush, just answer the question.”
“Why are you asking?”
“Well. . . .” Cassie hesitated a moment knowing Stephanie would find amusement in her confession. “I think there might be a ghost in the house.”
Silence came from the other end of the phone. After a long pause, Stephanie spoke up. “Are you serious?”
“I know how crazy it sounds, but I think the house might be haunted. See, I went to the antique store here and bought furniture for the house. I brought it home and all sorts of weird shit began.”
“Like what?” Stephanie whispered.
“All the typical ghost things—”
Stephanie interrupted her before she could finish. “You mean, moving things, footsteps and stuff?”
“Yeah.”
Silence hit the line again. Cassie waited for the bomb to drop. Soon her friend would laugh until she couldn’t breathe. It never came. Instead, she asked, “What else?”
Pushing her embarrassment over her recent actions away, she blurted out. “I think the ghost is watching me, and I think it’s a he.”
More silence followed before Stephanie whispered, “Why?”
Cassie pondered how to answer her without looking like a complete nut-job. She decided she had no other choice than to let go of her worry. “Because I don’t mind him watching.”
It took all of a second for the phone to be filled with laughter. “How classic. Cassie’s got all hot and horny for a ghost. Only you...”
“Hey, shut up,” Cassie retorted cutting in. Yes, crazy, but she needed some moral support. “I didn’t tell you it to make fun of me, jackass.”
Another round of laughter continued before Stephanie gathered herself with a long deep breath. “Okay, okay, sorry. Well, have you tried talking to him?”
“The ghost?” Cassie gasped.
“No idiot, the neighbor.” Stephanie sighed. “Of course, the ghost.”
Huh? “How do you talk to a ghost?”
“Like I should know, I’ve watched a few of those ghost hunting shows. Wait until dead time―which is like three in the morning by the way―turn all the lights off and speak to it.”
Oh yes, a wise idea.
“Do you think it’s safe? What if it’s evil or something?”
“Umm...” Stephanie paused. “Yeah, I got nothing. Maybe get rosary beads or something to protect you.”
“Rosary beads, think it’d work?”
“It always works in the movies.”
True. Cassie had seen movies where evil spirits were warded off by a priest or blessed items. Maybe if she faced the ghost, realized it lived in her imagination, she could move. One thing was certain, if no ghost existed here, she clearly needed to get laid. Fantasizing over some non-existent man couldn’t get any more pathetic.
“All right, tonight, I’ll try and make contact.”
“Hey Cassie,” Stephanie’s tone, calm and reserved, “if he appears to you and you do the nasty with him, at least you don’t have to worry about protection.”
Cassie snorted. “You’re so not funny.” Even though a chuckle escaped her as she ended the call.
Chapter Three
Ethan watched Cassie light candles around the bedroom. He’d heard half of the conversation she had on the telephone, however, he got enough out of it to know she wanted to make contact with him. A swell of happiness touched his heart, in more ways than one.
No one ever cared enough to try. Why her? And one comment she made couldn’t be silenced in his mind, Because I don’t mind him doing it.
Did she just admit she enjoyed him watching her masturbate? He wished it to be true. Glancing over to the clock on the nightstand, the bright green lights glowed three o’clock in the morning.
Cassie settled herself on the floor with a candle in front of her. “Is there anyone here with me?” she whispered, scanning the room with fear in her eyes.
He chuckled. Her fright both amused and impressed him because she had the strength to proceed. He approached, sat in front of her and waved his hand over the candle to extinguish the flame.
“Bah,” she gasped, startled. Fumbling with the lighter, she managed to relight the candle. “Okay, freaky.” She glanced around the room searching out a reason the candle went out and Ethan saw the surprise rise in her eyes.
“So—oo—o,” she stuttered, “if you put the candle out just now, can you not repeat it. I don’t think my heart can handle it being pitch black in here.” She paused. “Can you knock or something.”
“Yes.” He wanted to tell her, “You’ll have to listen hard.” He could knock, but it wouldn’t hold much strength, quiet for living person’s ears.
“All right—” Her voice came hesitant. “Will you knock if you’re here with me?”
He did.
Cassie’s eyebrows drew together and she cocked her head to the side. “Was that you?”
Ethan used all his strength to bang his fist against the floor. Her head straightened up, her eyes wide and she paled before him.
“I heard you,” she squeaked.
“Good. I’m here.” He finally had her attention, his body tensed and he sat up straighter in anticipation.
Cassie stayed quiet a moment, her gaze inquisitive.” Are you stuck here in the house?”
“No.” He didn’t knock to confirm it.
“So, if you’re not stuck in the house, why are you here?” She shook her head and laughed. “Right, you can’t answer me.”
The sound of her laughter forced his to rise. She chastised herself and he found it endearing. All the reasons she appealed to him. Her personality had proven to give him much amusement.
“Do you want me to help you?” she continued.
He knocked, not quite sure how she could help him. Only knowing, she needed to acknowledge his presence.
Cassie nodded to his response as if she’d expected it. Her cheeks flushed and she nibbled on the corner of her mouth, “Are you a man?”
He gave a steady knock.
“Have you been watching me?”
Again, he confirmed her question.
The subtle color to her cheeks now burned red-hot. “Did you watch me earlier, in the bathroom?”
The bang against the floor sounded loud to him, even though she’d heard a slight tap.
“Oh my goodness.” Her hands covered her face. “That’s so humiliating.”
“No, it was fantastic.” Frustration grated at him and tensed his jaw. He wanted her to hear the enjoyment he received watching her pleasure. Yet, he had no way of telling her.
She squirmed for a while before she lowered her hands. “All right, well, I’m going to pretend the event never happened so you do the same.” She released a long deep breath and the color in her cheeks dimmed. “I’ll do what I can to help you. I’m not quite sure what to do, but I’ll do something.”
“It would please me if you did.” He touched her face, and she leaned into his hand making him believe she sensed him. He wished he could embrace her, although, even if she did save him from his personal hell, he would never experience her warm skin beneath his hand.
He continued to cup the side of her face. If he pushed too hard his hand would go right through her skin, and the reminder only confirmed his current state of despair.
Cassie closed her eyes, her lips parted as she exhaled, “Are you touching me right now?”
He knocked.
“I can feel you on my cheek. It’s so cold.”
“But you are warm, my sweet.” He might wish to embrace her for hours upon end, however, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He lowered his hand and she opened her eyes.
A sweet smile spread across her face and Ethan could swear the sight of her happiness warmed his cold form. “I don’t know if you have to leave here,” she said, “If you can stay, will you stay with me tonight?”
His fist came down hard on the floor. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He craved to have the acknowledgment she shared the unexplainable attraction between them, and it thrilled him she declared it now.
Cassie blew out the candle, stood and went to the bed. She slipped under the sheets and Ethan came to sit― float― on the edge of the bed. He rested his hand on her thigh on top of the sheets so not to make her cold.
“Good night.”
He couldn’t remember what the sensation of sleep entailed. What it was like to wake each morning with the renewed strength of energy. Now though, it didn’t much matter, he enjoyed watching the beauty before him. Here, he could stay for all eternity.
* * *
Cassie spent the morning on the web searching for anyone to assist her with her current predicament. Yes, insane, and at first she’d wondered if it had all been a dream. However, she couldn’t discount what had happened. The ghost had interacted with her and asked for help.
It shocked her to discover Savannah, Georgia was well known for ghost sightings. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all.
After hours of scanning the internet, she’d narrowed down the list to one person. A medium who lived in town. Christine Cox even had a website, Ghosts Are Friends. Strange, but true.
Cassie placed a quick telephone call and Christine agreed to come to the house later to see what she could uncover. After the call, Cassie buried herself in her work to make it through the day.
Two more rooms done, dinner made, and Cassie’s muscles ached as she settled down to eat. Onto her last bite of lasagna, a soft knock at the door mirrored the chime of the grandfather clock as it struck nine p. m. Cassie threw her plate and silverware into the sink and ran toward the door. Once she opened it, her breath faltered.
She expected an aged woman with long silver hair― a witch or something? The woman in front of her, however, could’ve been her best friend. Light brown pixie hair surrounded a round face with blue eyes that were pretty behind the dark eyeliner.
“Are you Christine?”
“Yes.” Christine offered a kind smile. “You must be Cassie.”
Cassie attempted to return the smile, although, found it difficult. She doubted Christine held the ability to converse with ghosts. How could she with so few years behind her? Realizing she stood there saying nothing, Cassie widened the door and found her voice. “Please come in.”
What could she do, turn her away? Christine’s visit had cost her three hundred dollars, and Cassie recognized she had made a terrible mistake.
Christine stepped through the threshold and looked around. “Normal procedure is I take a tour of the house—”
“Oh, go ahead,” Cassie interjected, closing the door with a slam.
“Actually, I don’t have to. I feel him already.” Christine smiled.
Cassie’s mouth dropped open. “You do?”
“His essence is strong.” Christine strode toward the living room. “In here—yes—” Her words trailed off as she left a flabbergasted Cassie at the door.
Recovering from her shock, Cassie forced her feet to move and joined Christine in the living room to find Christine sitting on the chaise.
“It’s here.” Christine rubbed her hands along the soft crimson fabric.
Cassie glanced around, looking for the ‘it’, but found nothing. “Sorry, what’s here?”
“The ghost,” Christine replied. “It isn’t attached to the house.” She patted the seat’s cushion. “It’s attached to the chaise.”
To most people, her words might sound insane. To Cassie, it made a whole lot of sense. Nothing supernatural had happened until the antiques had been delivered to the home. Plus, the connection she’d felt to the chaise at the store. Could it be the ghost himself which captivated her?
“Do you want to know about him?” Christine asked.
Cassie sat with a heavy thud on the couch across from Christine in disbelief. Cassie had suspected the ghost existed. Now, though, it hit her. Something she never believed in just became all too real. “You can do that?”
Christine nodded and closed her eyes. “Let’s see. . . .”
A few minutes passed while Cassie stared at her. Did Christine talk to him in her mind? Put out some kind of mental feelers? The minutes drew on and Cassie’s curiosity built. She couldn’t take the suspense any longer.
“What’s he saying?”
“He doesn’t speak to me like you’re thinking.” Christine opened her eyes. “It’s a message he sends, a word I’ll hear.”
“Oh…” Cassie couldn’t wrap her head around the concept. What would he be saying? His name? The date he died? What in the world would a ghost need to get off his chest? She gave up trying to figure it out and moved along. “What message did you get from him?”
Christine cocked her head to the side, her expression indecisive. “His name starts with an E. Edward. . . Evan. . . no…no…Ethan.” Her head tilted the opposite way, focused. “Ethan Thomas. He’s quite an old spirit, I’m guessing a few hundred years old, and he died during the Civil War.”
Cassie couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from her lips. “You’re kidding, right?” How could he be so old and still exist? Freaked her out a little, yet saddened her to know he had been in such a state for so long.
“It can be shocking to hear, but no, I’m quite serious. I’m not sure what has happened to him or why he’s attached to the chaise. I do get the sense he’s desolate.”
Cassie’s heart clenched, hearing of his pain upset her more than it ought to. To know he’d spent all those years alone, and would do so for all of eternity, cut her deep. She needed a resolution.
“Can we help him?”
“By help him, you mean, send him to the other side?”
Cassie considered her words. She should want him to cross over, however, why didn’t she? “I’m—well—”
“I sense that too.” Christine gave a knowing look while she cut Cassie’s stumbling off. ”The connection you two have.”
Cassie tried to make sense out of how Christine figured it out, and wasn’t thrilled she knew. Being connected to a ghost issued her a one way ticket to the mental hospital. She took safe haven in knowing if she could be claimed as mentally instable, so could Christine. “You can sense a connection from him?”
“Yeah, he’s quite attached to you. I keep hearing him say your name. Maybe you’re the one who needs to help him move on?”
Easier said than done.
“And just how do I do that?”
Christine shrugged. “There are lots of things you can do, but I’d suggest you try and talk to him.”
“Yeah, been there, which brought you. You’re the one who’s supposed to talk with him.”
“Apparently not,” Christine retorted. “He doesn’t want me. He wants you.”
Leaving Cassie up Shit’s Creek.
“So, what do I do?”
“I would summon him back so you can speak face-to-face.”
“Did I hear you right?” Cassie laughed
Christine nodded.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’ve never believed in ghosts, and now you’re telling me I can summon him up and make him real again?”
“No, not just you, Ethan has to want it too. I’ve never seen a ghost so attached to a living person before. Together, you can make it happen. It’s quite simple. You do a summoning spell at his grave. You’ll lend him some of your energy and the boost will bring him back into physical form. It’s important to find out what he needs from you before the energy fades away, or he’ll get stuck here again, and you won’t be able to bring him back.”
A comment straight out of the encyclopedia of nut jobs. Without a doubt, Christine had more going on here than physic abilities.
“What are you, a witch or something?”
“Some might say so, I suppose,” Christine replied in a shy tone. “I just have connections to the ghost world. These spells have been passed down through generations of women like me.”
Cassie couldn’t help but be intrigued. Was it possible? Would she meet Ethan? Did she want to? Yes, she did.
“Tell me what I have to do?”
Chapter Four
At Bonaventure cemetery, Cassie kept her flashlight out in front of her. Her last words at the house were, “Help is coming.” She hoped Ethan heard her and understood she wanted to free him. Maybe some of her reasons were selfish. She’d become consumed with the need to meet him face-to-face and understand why she seemed so connected to him. The other reason, no one deserved to exist as he had.
Christine stayed next to her as they walked the cemetery reading each headstone as they passed. An extraordinary cemetery, willow trees decorated the landscape between gothic tombstones. It looked old, pretty though, maybe even a little bit spooky.
Cassie tried her best not to focus on the scary bit and kept her gaze on the headstones. They’d been here an hour now searching and had come up with nothing resembling Ethan’s name.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
Christine shrugged. “There are other cemeteries here in Savannah, however, this one is the oldest and is known to have Civil War soldiers laid to rest here.”
With the question resolved, she came up with the next possible reason they hadn’t found anything yet.
“Maybe you have his name wrong?”
“No.” Christine shook her head. “He was quite persistent I get his name right.”
Cassie shook her head and looked back out toward the gravesites. A bit hard to wrap her head around the idea, but her old views had changed the day she brought the chaise back to the house. Normal just didn’t register in her mind anymore.
One by one, Cassie continued to scan the headstones. Twenty minutes later, defeat sank in. They’d worked their way through the entire cemetery and came to the last row of graves.
She passed by one and a tall monument came into view. The moment her flashlight illuminated its inscription, she froze in her tracks. Somehow she found words to escape her tight throat. “Ethan Thomas, Major 66th Regiment, Georgia Volunteers, Confederate States Army. Killed in battle near Atlanta, Georgia, July 22, 1864. Aged 25 years.” Her heart thumped in her chest and she turned back to Christine.
“Oh my God, we found him.”
Christine smiled. “We did.”
Cassie dropped to her knees and rested over the top of his grave. She reached out and touched the old headstone. Her hand trailed across a sword etched into the stone with ribbon wrapping around it and a Southern Cross of Honor at the bottom. The granite was cold beneath her fingertips, but being there sent a warm energy blasting through her body.
“What do we do?” she whispered.
“It’s a two-step process.” Christine took a seat beside Cassie on the ground. “First, lay back on the grave.”
Cassie did so and awaited further instruction.
“Now, close your eyes and begin to breathe in and out through your nose. Let yourself relax.”
“Easy for you to say.”
When Christine didn’t respond to her banter, Cassie figured she better get on with it and closed her eyes. After a few long, steady breaths, her body released some of its nervous tension and her heartbeat slowed.
“Okay, now count backwards from your current age, out loud,” Christine went on. “As you count, breathe in for every three numbers, and let out one breath for every three numbers. Remember to hold the image of Ethan in your mind.”
Cassie concentrated on Ethan. Not a physical image of him, since she had no idea what he looked like. More so, the connection she felt to him and the experience she had when she first touched the chaise. Keeping her focus on the sensation, she counted back from twenty-five.
She couldn’t even tell how much time had passed, nor how many times she repeated the numbers when Christine whispered, “You’re in what’s called suspended state.”
Or maybe she didn’t whisper. To Cassie’s ears, it sounded slow and far away.
“Now, talk to him. Tell Ethan you want him to come forward, and need him to step out of the ghost world and into ours.”
Cassie stopped counting back, kept up the rhythm of her breath and thought in her mind. “Ethan, I welcome you here. Please come forward and join me.” She opened her eyes as a cold breeze swept across her.
Expecting to see him, she shot straight up and glanced around. He wasn’t there. After a lingering look, her gaze came back to Christine. “Did you feel how the air got cold?”
Christine nodded. “He’s responding.”
“But he’s not here.” Cassie looked around again for good measure, disappointed at the dark sky around her. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Because we’re not done with the summoning yet.” Christine reached over to grab the bag she had brought with her, pulling out two bottles of rum and some spiritweed, as she called it. “You can only do the spell at midnight,” she continued as she took the stick and wrapped the spiritweed around it. Once completed, she stood and looked down to Cassie. “Take off your clothes.”
“Excuse me?”
Christine nodded, firm in her stance. “You have to do the spell naked.”
“Why do I need to be naked?” Cassie squeaked.
“It’s believed clothing inhibits the energy to be received from the spell. Being naked opens the body to the elements and the magic,” Christine replied.
Cassie considered getting the hell out of the cemetery and away from the Witch—or whatever she claimed to be. However, Cassie felt the cold breeze against her skin as if something had happened. She couldn’t stop now. Putting her reservations aside, she stepped out of her clothes. As she dropped her panties, she chuckled at the insanity of her current situation.
“Do you do this often?”
Christine laughed. “No, but don’t worry, I’m going to pretend you aren’t naked and I’ll keep my eyes on your face.”
“Thank God,” Cassie exhaled, and stood, stark naked while the wind tickled her skin. She glanced up at Christine and was happy to note she made good on her promise to keep her eyes focused dead center on hers.
“Now what?”
Christine reached down for one of the bottles of rum, and as she stood back up she handed it to her.
“Place the bottle at the head of the tombstone.”
More than absurd, Cassie took the bottle from her, approached the headstone and squatted down. After Cassie placed the bottles at the head of the grave, Christine continued, “I’m not going to be able to talk anymore so you have to follow my instructions okay? There needs to be only you and the spirit, so I will have to keep my presence limited.”
Cassie nodded.
“Take the spiritweed stick and strike the tombstone three times, then call to Ethan and repeat what’s on the gravestone and add, Come to me. Once you’re done, place the second bottle of rum at the foot of the grave, strike the ground beside it three times and repeat the words. After you open both bottles of rum, leave the grave.” She gestured behind her. “I’ll gather up your clothes and take them with me. Remember though, as you walk away after the summoning, keep your back to the grave and whatever you do, don’t look back.”
“Why does it matter?”
“It just does.” Christine shrugged. “It’s how the spell needs to be done if you want it to work. Got it?”
Did she get it? Oh yeah, she understood she’d up and lost her mind. Standing nude in the middle of a cemetery with a woman who could be a witch, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Could the situation get anymore insane? Instead of making herself more of an idiot, she answered her. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Okay.” Christine reached down and grabbed all of Cassie’s clothes from the ground. She smiled over her shoulder and walked away. “Good luck.”
Cassie returned the smile before turning back to the tombstone. She hoped no one came into the area. If anyone caught sight of a naked woman standing at a tombstone, she couldn’t imagine what they’d think of her. Off to jail she’d go! She held no interest in being the crazy pervert from New York City who enjoyed getting naked with dead people. More so, if Stephanie could see her now—oh, she’d be laughing her ass off.
To get the show on the road, Cassie held the stick tight in her hand and hit the tombstone three times, then repeated what Christine had told her.
The graveyard sat all too quiet—eerie. Ignoring the flickers of fear, she grabbed the other bottle of rum and placed it where she thought the foot of the grave would be. With the stick still in her hand, she hit the ground three times and said again, “Ethan Thomas, Major 66th Regiment, Georgia Volunteers, Confederate States Army. Killed in battle near Atlanta, Georgia, July 22, 1864. Aged 25 years. Come to me.”
Nothing happened, which didn’t surprise her. Christine said she had to follow her instructions exactly. Continuing on, she reached down and opened the first bottle of rum and held the cap in her hand. Crap, she hadn’t thought to ask if she should take the cap with her or leave it behind.
After mulling it over, she decided to leave it. It seemed like the right choice. Everything else stayed, it should too. She placed it on the ground next to the bottle and approached the first bottle. There, she opened it and again left the cap, leaving the stick of spiritweed beside it. Without a word, she turned around, said a little prayer to herself and walked toward Christine who waited on the other side of the cemetery.
She never looked back, but wanted too. Would Ethan be standing there? Would he be waiting for her? How she wanted him to be there.
Christine held out her clothes, and Cassie re-dressed in haste. After she put her shoes back on, she asked, “Is he there?”
“No.” Christine’s gaze stayed trained on the graved behind Cassie.
“What do you mean?” How could he not be there? She’d followed Christine’s instructions by the book. He had to be there.
“I’m not sure.” Christine looked away from the grave and met her gaze again. “I’ve seen the spell done before and it worked.” A soft expression crossed her face as she raised her hand to Cassie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Cassie’s heart fell into the pit of her stomach. Her throat tightened as a lump formed there. “How can that be though? I did it all like you said.”
“You did.” Christine offered with sad eyes. “But it doesn’t always work. Ethan held the choice to come forward. If he didn’t take it, there’s nothing you can do.”
Thoughts crowded Cassie’s mind. Why wouldn’t he take it? He said he wanted help and now she held no power. Forever gone. Her heart crumpled to pieces.
* * *
The ride back to the house took longer than it had on the way there, because Cassie just couldn’t find it within her to rush home. She had failed. Part of her stayed angry Ethan hadn’t done his part. Geesh, she got naked in a cemetery and did a weird ritual to call him forward.
Yet, he didn’t grab hold of it.
Annoyance filled her, causing her jaw to clench and muscles bunch with frustration.
Driving down West Park Avenue in the Historical District of Savannah the sensations grew. A few houses down, the Landsby house appeared. Red paint decorated the front with the wood trimming shinning with freshly applied white wash. A full wraparound porch sat out front, while Washingtonian palms and colorful flowers gave the home beautiful curb appeal. Pride resided in her the job well done, though now, she couldn’t find anything to be happy about.
She parked the car next to the house, cut the ignition and got out. Confusion raked her mind. Hours ago she had a purpose―save Ethan from his current predicament. He wanted the help, asked for it. Now, she didn’t know what to think and was irritated by the lengths she went to help him.
At the front stairs, she climbed them and stopped at the door. Digging into her purse, she grabbed the key that Mrs. Nash had given to her. Still unsettled, she slid the key into the lock, opened the door, and closed it with a loud bang.
Stepping farther into the house, she found the house in complete darkness. She could have sworn she left the lights on. Something else couldn’t be ignored, the energy in the house had changed. Before, it hummed around her―the presence of Ethan. Now, she didn’t sense him at all.
Ethan’s gone.
Maybe all he’d needed was the act of someone acknowledging him. Perhaps the summoning had freed his spirit. Christine didn’t seem to know too much about what the spell did besides the fact she’d seen it done before. Cassie could only presume her assumption was correct. The spell didn’t summon, but freed a trapped spirit. The realization made happiness drift up. At least she’d done something to help him. He went to a better place and happiness swelled in her heart. After all, she’d needed to find purpose in what she’d done. Now, she had found it.
She released a deep breath to free her frustrations, placed her purse on the table beneath a large old mirror she purchased at the antique store, and approached the kitchen. A stiff drink called to her.
“Cassie.”
As she passed the doorway to the living room, a voice, deep and rich, sounded around her.
Her heart skipped a beat. Oh no, she had to be hearing things. She turned toward the voice and her world came to a sudden halt. The living room glowed in a warm light as the candles she had used a night ago lit the room beautifully. That’s not what held her attention though.
By the red chaise, a man stood. A gorgeous man dressed in a long dark blue coat with gold buttons decorating the front. The same color cotton pants sat snug against his thick thighs with black boots on his feet. Around his waist a sword strapped to a wide belt that hung low on his hips. A navy cap sat atop his head with three rows of black braid and underneath it, Cassie saw his light brown curls.
She drew her gaze away from his hair and settled it on his face. Deep chocolate stared back at her. A twelve-o’clock shadow caused the soft, smoothness of his skin to appear darker. His nose angular, his chin square, and his lips not too thin, yet not full either.
Perfect.
“You-re. You—” she stuttered.
He smiled, a sweet, adoring grin. “I’m here.”
“But-but-but—” she continued to stumble with her words. She hadn’t expected Ethan to be here. Christine never said anything about the possibility Ethan might be at the house, with his chaise. Now thinking it over, it made sense. His attachment stayed with the chair as Christine said. No wonder he’d appear with it.
“I know my being here confuses you.” He approached and Cassie’s breath froze in her throat. “And I wish I had the time to settle you, however, I‘ve watched you for days now. I’ve been in torment seeing you, unable to smell you or touch you. I suspect I do not have much time here, as the medium had told you. We could chat, get to know one another, but I’ve long waited to touch you. You’re a woman my dreams couldn’t have created, and I will not waste my time with words. For now, I must be near you. Feel the warmth of your skin and remind myself what it feels like to be alive.”
Holy hell…a ghost made her swoon.
Chapter Five
The sweet scent of Cassie filled the space around Ethan. It’d been years since he smelled anything, and it overwhelmed him now. Her scent of summer wild flowers titillated his senses.
He always took women for granted. Thought he’d have time to find one to make a life with. His life had been surrounded by war. Nothing more. He’d never appreciated the beauty of a woman or how, the mere presence of one, could stop a man’s heart. But the thought of war had left him years ago and all that existed now was her.
He moved closer toward her, his breath sucked back into his lungs and his cock hardened. He groaned. So many years had passed since he felt blood rush to engorge him. Dear God, he felt powerful. His eyes must have closed with the sensation, because he soon realized he saw darkness instead of Cassie. He opened his eyes to find her gaze wide with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.
“Are you okay?” she asked in a whisper.
His cock throbbed. Somehow he managed to get out words. “I have not been aroused for a long time.”
“You’re aroused?” Her eyes grew even wider.
Sure, he could have showed her. Rubbed his hardened length against her stomach, but he was too much gentlemen to act on such behavior. “Indeed I am.”
“By me?” she squeaked.
He reached up, brought his hand to her cheek where he dragged his knuckles across her soft skin. “I have been watching you for days. . . and a certain incident of you pleasuring yourself hasn’t left my mind.”
A blush rose to her cheeks beneath his touch. “Oh.”
“Oh.” He chuckled and even to his own ears it sounded lustful. “I know this is unorthodox, and in my time I would never have suggested a thing, however, times have changed. . . and well. . . .”
Cassie’s mouth parted and a soft whisper of breath released from between her lips.
“I know what you want,” she stepped closer toward him and her body pressed against his, “—and I want you, too.” Reaching up, she grasped his face to guide him toward her mouth.
He didn’t need another invitation and pressed his lips against hers. Her mouth opened for his and her tongue met his in a warm wet embrace. Kissing wasn’t new to him. He’d kissed many women, although years ago, a man didn’t bed a woman unless he planned to wed her. No woman had captured his heart to offer a lifetime together.
Cassie could capture him.
So tiny in his arms, he wished he had more time to enjoy her. She sank against him and let him lead the way through their kisses. He wasn’t going to waste the moment thinking of wishes that would get him nowhere. His situation wasn’t his to control.
He gathered her in his arms, not breaking the kiss. His cock pulsated in his tight pants and he craved to get some relief. Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her and carried her back to the other side of the living room where his chaise sat.
No other place more perfect to make love to her than his beloved couch, the one constant companion over the past years. Images of what Cassie would look like laid out naked across the crimson fabric ran through his mind, and gave strength to his hard-on.
He lowered her down and the move brought their mouths apart. Her dark hair and creamy skin looked just as he suspected it would; stunning. He needed to see more of her and couldn’t wait any longer or worry about manners.
“May I remove your clothing?”
She nodded.
He helped her sit up and assisted her out of her shirt, leaving her bra in place. He eased her pants off her hips and yanked them down her legs, dropping them to the floor. His gaze drew back to hers and desire awaited him.
He trailed his finger up her calf, to her thigh where he could feel her tremble beneath his touch. Her skin, so delicate as he made his way up to her hip and over to the gentle swell of her stomach.
“I never thought I’d touch a woman in this manner.”
She tensed beneath him. “What do you mean?”
Embarrassment might have stolen his thought, yet he couldn’t care to those emotions now. “I have never bedded a woman before.”
Cassie’s brows furrowed as confusion clouded her eyes. After a pause, she asked, “Are you telling me you’re a virgin?”
He nodded, while he continued to trail his finger along her body. “I believe that is what I said, yes.”
“How can that be?”
“It’s quite simple.” He swirled his finger around her belly button and she shivered in response. “I didn’t have time for relationships, and women are not like they are now―willing to indulge themselves without marriage.” Trailing his hand upward, he reached her breast where he could see her dark areola peering through the white lace fabric.
He circled it with his finger and Cassie gasped, squirming beneath his touch. “Well, we had better move fast,” she exhaled. “Not only haven’t you been laid in over a hundred years, but you’ve never done it all. Trust me, it’ll be short if you don’t hurry it along.”
He chuckled and agreed with her. His straining cock made him aware he wouldn’t last long and he craved to prolong this for as long as he could. As much as he wanted to plunge himself deep inside of her, he also wanted to be sure she gained pleasure in return.
“I have an idea.”
He could see the clip of her bra on the front so he unclipped it. Her breasts sprung free and he groaned as his eyes traveled over her dark areola. Needing to see the rest of her, he latched onto her panties and pulled them off.
His breath hitched.
“Is something wrong?” Cassie asked.
“What’s wrong is my cock is rock hard.”
She glanced away from him to the bulge in his pants, smiled, and looked back up at him with lust raging in her eyes. “Why don’t you come here and put that—in here.” She cupped her pussy in her hand.
He moaned, but didn’t move. His jaw clenched as he tried to gain some control over himself. “As much as I want to, I won’t ruin our moment together because I am unable to hold myself back.” He got undressed from his uniform, which now was uncomfortable. His clothing didn’t suit modern times and he had grown with the world as it passed by. He rid himself of his clothes and kicked it all aside until he stood bare-assed in front of her. “I need to do something about this first.” He glanced down to his cock, which stood like a rod from his body.
“No,” she whispered, and as he looked back to her she reached out, took his hand and pulled him toward, “I need to do something about this.”
Her other hand wrapped around his cock and his eyes rolled back into his head. So many years he’d never been touched. Never had a woman touch his hardened flesh and he would have enjoyed doing it himself, yet it thrilled him she decided to assist him.
* * *
Cassie had known the hardness of a man’s engorged cock before—many times. None though, had been as large as the cock in her hand now. She suspected part of it had to do with Ethan never being touched by a woman before and maybe because he hadn’t experienced a hard-on in years.
She squeezed her hand around the tip of him. “More.” His voice thick with lust as his gaze burned molten.
Oh, she would give him more, and something else he wasn’t expecting from her. She gave him a light stroke and he trembled. More than satisfied that she was in control here, she leaned forward.
“You’re not.—” he gasped, but as she licked the tip of his cock, his grunt stopped his hesitation. “Fuck.”
“Feels nice,” she teased as she swirled her tongue around him, “doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” he moaned.
His lack of experience aroused her. She enjoyed the thought that no one had ever wrapped their lips around his thick cock. She might have prolonged the moment to tease him, but she didn’t need to. He writhed with desire and his cock throbbed, she couldn’t find it in her to make him suffer. Not after all he’d been through.
Lowering her hand along his shaft, she held him at the base and, after a swirl of her tongue, she opened her mouth and brought him in deep. His entire body shuddered.
She glanced up at him with his cock buried deep in her throat, and his eyebrows furrowed. Blackness engulfed his gaze as his pupils dilated with unadulterated need. She withdrew him from her mouth and tickled the head of his cock with her tongue.
“Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes.” His words came sharp through his teeth.
“Would you like more?”
His hesitated, before his strained tone reappeared, “Yes.”
She didn’t move her hand in rhythm with her mouth because she didn’t want him to come yet. She marveled at his cock. She’d never been with a virgin before and one as sexy as Ethan needed to be treasured. Imperative for her to draw his pleasure out.
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