about as sensitive as a rock, you hate them, they don’t particularly like you, and—”
“Hey,” he protested, irrationally insulted by the assumed dislike of her imaginary ghosts, “How do you know if they like me or not?”
“Dude, that house was totally pulsating with anti-Wyatt vibes last night. They probably think of you as an interloper, some kind of evil stepfather figure who’s going to force them to eat their vegetables. Although…” she tipped her head, her thoughts racing across her face again, “…if you were a sort of parental figure, even an evil one, then it would make sense in a twisted sort of way that they ran to you when they were scared.”
“I’m not evil—stepfather or no. You’re the one who scared them. Why didn’t they decide you were the evil stepmother and go haunt your stomach for a while?”
“I didn’t scare them,” she snapped. “The house was doing the whole tug-o-war thingy. I just sort of dropped my end of the rope and they did a slingshot thingy into you. Which I wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t distracted me in the first place.” She frowned. “I need to get back into that house.”
“To get the ghosts out.”
She nodded vaguely. “That might work. If we can get whatever was pulling at me last night to come back and try to yank the ghosts out of you, then I can open a portal and zap ’em right through.”
“If,” Wyatt repeated, developing a real hatred for that word. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“Plan B.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, buddy. I’ve got contingency plans on top of my contingency plans. We’ll get those little buggers out of you.”
He would have been comforted, if he hadn’t thought he heard her mutter “eventually” under her breath as she turned and wandered toward the wall of windows that overlooked the river.
“I don’t understand.” He followed her, knowing he sounded petulant and irritable and not caring in the slightest. He was either being haunted or scammed, so either way he was entitled to pitch a fit. “Why is getting them out of me harder than getting them out of a house?”
She turned to face him, leaning back against the window with her hands shoved into the front pockets of her jeans. The pose did interesting things to her tight T-shirt. Of course, everything did interesting things to that damn T-shirt.
“It helps if instead of thinking of it as getting them out of the house, you think of it as putting them in to a portal. Some people call it transcending. The trick with a person is that first I have to get them out of you and then I have to put them in the portal. The second part is easy. Well, it’s easy for me. But it’s the first part that’s more of a challenge.”
“Can’t you just put them in the portal directly from me?”
“I could, yeah, but the problem with that approach is that I’ve never tried to open up a portal inside a person before. People aren’t houses. Even stick-up-their-ass businessmen have souls, believe it or not. Assuming I could even get a portal open inside you, which is a pretty big assumption, there would be a very real risk that along with sucking the ghosts out of your body, your soul would get sucked through the portal too. So that would be bad.”
“I would say so.”
“Although, I haven’t actually tried it before, so for all I know it won’t suck your soul out of your body after all. You wanna try it?”
Wyatt couldn’t help it. He started to laugh.
Chapter Eight: See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me
When her client dropped to the floor, laughing uncontrollably, two questions crossed Jo’s mind. First, was he actively being taken over by ghosts at this very moment? And second, could he possibly have any idea how attractive he was when he wasn’t frowning down on the world?
She was fairly certain the answer to both questions was no, but she took a second to check him out with her second sight and
“Hey,” he protested, irrationally insulted by the assumed dislike of her imaginary ghosts, “How do you know if they like me or not?”
“Dude, that house was totally pulsating with anti-Wyatt vibes last night. They probably think of you as an interloper, some kind of evil stepfather figure who’s going to force them to eat their vegetables. Although…” she tipped her head, her thoughts racing across her face again, “…if you were a sort of parental figure, even an evil one, then it would make sense in a twisted sort of way that they ran to you when they were scared.”
“I’m not evil—stepfather or no. You’re the one who scared them. Why didn’t they decide you were the evil stepmother and go haunt your stomach for a while?”
“I didn’t scare them,” she snapped. “The house was doing the whole tug-o-war thingy. I just sort of dropped my end of the rope and they did a slingshot thingy into you. Which I wouldn’t have done if you hadn’t distracted me in the first place.” She frowned. “I need to get back into that house.”
“To get the ghosts out.”
She nodded vaguely. “That might work. If we can get whatever was pulling at me last night to come back and try to yank the ghosts out of you, then I can open a portal and zap ’em right through.”
“If,” Wyatt repeated, developing a real hatred for that word. “And if that doesn’t work?”
“Plan B.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, buddy. I’ve got contingency plans on top of my contingency plans. We’ll get those little buggers out of you.”
He would have been comforted, if he hadn’t thought he heard her mutter “eventually” under her breath as she turned and wandered toward the wall of windows that overlooked the river.
“I don’t understand.” He followed her, knowing he sounded petulant and irritable and not caring in the slightest. He was either being haunted or scammed, so either way he was entitled to pitch a fit. “Why is getting them out of me harder than getting them out of a house?”
She turned to face him, leaning back against the window with her hands shoved into the front pockets of her jeans. The pose did interesting things to her tight T-shirt. Of course, everything did interesting things to that damn T-shirt.
“It helps if instead of thinking of it as getting them out of the house, you think of it as putting them in to a portal. Some people call it transcending. The trick with a person is that first I have to get them out of you and then I have to put them in the portal. The second part is easy. Well, it’s easy for me. But it’s the first part that’s more of a challenge.”
“Can’t you just put them in the portal directly from me?”
“I could, yeah, but the problem with that approach is that I’ve never tried to open up a portal inside a person before. People aren’t houses. Even stick-up-their-ass businessmen have souls, believe it or not. Assuming I could even get a portal open inside you, which is a pretty big assumption, there would be a very real risk that along with sucking the ghosts out of your body, your soul would get sucked through the portal too. So that would be bad.”
“I would say so.”
“Although, I haven’t actually tried it before, so for all I know it won’t suck your soul out of your body after all. You wanna try it?”
Wyatt couldn’t help it. He started to laugh.
Chapter Eight: See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me
When her client dropped to the floor, laughing uncontrollably, two questions crossed Jo’s mind. First, was he actively being taken over by ghosts at this very moment? And second, could he possibly have any idea how attractive he was when he wasn’t frowning down on the world?
She was fairly certain the answer to both questions was no, but she took a second to check him out with her second sight and
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