A Phantom Enchantment by Eve Marie Mont Page A

some friends,” I said.
    â€œGuys or girls?”
    â€œBoth.”
    He looked like he was about to say something but thought better of it. “I’m going to get your scarf,” he said, abruptly leaving before I could stop him.
    A moment later, Flynn came out of the bathroom, sighing. “I feel like a new man.”
    â€œThrilled to hear it,” I said. “The old you needed some work.”
    â€œEff off,” he said. “I’m drunk and unable to defend myself properly.”
    Flynn helped himself to my pillow and lay down on the bed with an arm thrown across his face. I sat on the settee by the vanity.
    â€œSo tell me about your tour,” I said, trying to distract myself from the episode in the alleyway. “Are you guys going to be the next Death Cab for Cutie?”
    He snorted from the bed. It turned out their European tour had been a bust. While they’d played a few gigs in London, the venues weren’t big enough to attract crowds or agents. And Berlin was even worse. A few of their gigs fell through, and at one place, the owner kicked them out after Flynn almost came to blows with a bartender.
    â€œHe cut me off,” Flynn said. “And I was barely drunk.”
    â€œThe nerve!” I said, laughing. “Do you have anything lined up here in Paris?”
    â€œNot yet,” he said. “We might just lay low for a while. See what Zee Citee of Luvvv has to offer.”
    â€œYou mean, be ugly Americans?”
    â€œBah,” Flynn said, sitting up and holding his head like it was a ticking time bomb. “I happen to be a stunningly good-looking American.” He smiled, then narrowed his eyes as they landed on something behind me. “What’s with the purple sheet?”
    â€œWhat?” I said, playing dumb.
    â€œThat purple curtain behind you. What’s it hiding?”
    I shook my head. “Nothing.”
    â€œClearly, it’s something,” Flynn said.
    â€œIt’s just an old mirror that creeps me out.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I saw something in it.”
    Flynn raised an eyebrow. “What’d you see?”
    â€œYou’re going to think I’m crazy.”
    â€œToo late.”
    I told him about the ghostly reflection and the moving candlelight.
    Flynn’s eyes lit up. “Oooh, a haunted mirror. Can I see it?” He popped up from the bed and ran toward the mirror, flinging off the drape with a dramatic flourish and examining it from all angles. “Yep, it’s a creepy old mirror.”
    â€œSo you agree it’s creepy?” I said, thankful to have my fears validated.
    The first thing he did was try to pry it off the wall, finding just as I had that it didn’t budge. “That’s weird,” he said. “It’s like someone bolted it to the wall. Maybe it’s a two-way mirror, and there’s some pervert who lives on the other side.”
    â€œThanks a lot,” I said. “You’re really helping.” I stood up and grabbed the drape from him, throwing it back over the mirror.
    â€œI’m just kidding,” he said. “You’re really freaked out about this, aren’t you?”
    I felt foolish, close to tears for some reason. Owen came in a few seconds later holding my scarf and delivered it to me like he’d just found my lost kitten.
    â€œThanks,” I said. “Did you see the guy who left it?”
    â€œNo, there was no one there. But he tied your scarf to the gates. That doesn’t sound like something a serial killer would do. Why are you so spooked?”
    â€œBecause she has a ghost in her mirror,” Flynn explained.
    â€œFlynn!” I shouted.
    â€œWhat? Owen should know about this. He can exorcise evil with one flash of those dimples.”
    â€œDude!” Owen said, embarrassed.
    But his dimples were so cute they should have been registered as weapons.
    Feeling rather foolish, I debriefed Owen on