date football players.”
Cooper turned his attention back to the guy who had just greeted him.
Ryan was far from the wizened old man in dusty robes Cooper had pictured when Brent described him. Instead, Ryan seemed to be in his mid-twenties, and though he wore a ring and a necklace, each of a metal darker than silver and inset with arcane symbols, that was the extent of his sorcerer paraphernalia. His hair was dark blond, cut short, his eyes were blue-gray, and he didn’t seem to have any piercings or tattoos unless they were hidden by his utterly normal khaki pants and T-shirt. The only thing that struck Cooper was that he was barefoot, but since he was standing in his own house, even that wasn’t so strange.
“Sorry about Delilah,” Ryan said. “She tends to be more persistent than wise. I take it you’re Cooper Blake?” Cooper nodded, and Ryan offered his hand. “Ryan le Coire. Please, come in.”
Cooper wondered if he was supposed to introduce Samantha, too. Considering Ryan would learn about her sooner or later, it seemed rude to just ignore her now.
“Can you see—” He broke off, because if Ryan could see Samantha, he probably would have spoken to her or at least looked at her since coming to the door.
Brent took over. “Cooper’s not the only one looking for help,” he explained briefly. “Somewhere around here is Samantha, who, as far as we can tell, is a ghost.”
Ryan didn’t even blink with surprise. He let out a thoughtful “hmm” and then turned to lead them farther into the house. “We can talk in my study.”
Brent followed, and Cooper started to do the same, until he heard Samantha shout, “Hey!” He looked back, and saw her slam her fist into the empty doorway. It bounced back the same way she did when she tried to touch people. “I’m stuck.”
Feeling a little crazy talking to a new person this way, Cooper nevertheless managed to say, “Samantha can’t get through the doorway.”
“She can come in when I say she can,” Ryan said, “and I intend to get a little more information before I extend such an invitation.”
“How—”
Ryan cut Cooper off with a wave. “Come upstairs. We’ll discuss all this at length.” Cooper hesitated, looking back at Samantha, who was frowning, until Ryan added, “Or you could leave. When you make up your mind, Brent knows the way.” He walked off, probably perfectly certain that Cooper had to follow, since he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t need the help.
“I’ll be back soon,” Cooper said to Samantha.
“Maybe I’ll go haunt your girlfriend while you’re gone,” Samantha replied, pouting.
“I told you, she’s not—look, Samantha, I’ve got to go. Remember this is for your sake, too.”
Samantha nodded, but she looked sad and nervous. Cooper didn’t want to leave her, especially after seeing the beasts around her again earlier, but what else could he do?
12
Brent watched Cooper look around as they crossed the foyer and climbed the elaborately carved staircase to the second floor. Cooper frowned at the sunlight streaming through windows that appeared to be closely covered from the outside. He stopped on the stairs to stare at the front hall again, and Brent was sure he was doing the same thing everyone did the first time they entered the le Coire manor: mentally measuring the room, and comparing it to the house outside.
The two didn’t match.
And Cooper didn’t even know about the back garden, where acres of land were hidden inside a tall fence beyond which the world appeared docile and quiet, without a hint of the urban development that existed in the real world.
Cooper’s question as they ascended the stairs, however, had nothing to do with any of that.
“You and Delilah know each other?”
Brent paused, debating how much detail to go into. His relationship with Delilah had been awkward enough that he didn’t enjoy discussing it, but it seemed some explanation was necessary. “We dated for a few months.”
“Wow.”
Amused by Cooper’s apparent awe, Brent repeated, “Wow?”
“I didn’t know she dated,” Cooper said. “I know a lot of guys who tried, and some who managed first dates when she wanted someone to hang on for a party or dance or something, but no one she dated for any length of time.” He shook his head. “Nothing personal, but it’s kind of as surprising as finding her here. Is she—” Brent couldn’t hear Cooper’s thoughts as well in le Coire’s place, but he could guess what was going through his head as he blushed and asked, “Can she read minds, too?”
“She wishes she could,” Brent answered, recalling the many times Delilah had lambasted him about not using his ability to its full potential. “But no, she’s more like Ryan. She works with power. In all honesty, after what happened in the library, I thought about just calling her and saying ‘He’s your friend. You deal with it.’ Her magic is more likely to be useful to you than my telepathy.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Cooper asked, his tone more curious than upset.
“I didn’t trust her with you,” Brent answered honestly. “She’s the one who told Ryan about me, and I’m grateful she did, but I figured out pretty soon that she did it mostly to get back in his good graces. She’s reckless with her power and doesn’t have any qualms about putting people around her in danger. You’re her friend, so it’s possible she would be more careful with you, but I’m not really sure how much her friendship means.”
“And you and I knew each other so well you decided to protect me?” Cooper joked.
“What can I say? I felt sorry for Samantha, having to spend all her time with you.”
Cooper laughed. “We should probably catch up to Ryan.”
They dropped the subject, which was good, since Brent didn’t think Cooper would take it well if he told him the whole truth: Brent had been fascinated by the rhythm of Cooper’s thoughts, so unlike most people he had met. Once he learned the whole story of his accident, that interest had turned to pity, and a sense of obligation. Cooper didn’t seem like the type who wanted to be pitied.
Ryan’s study was the only room on the second floor of the le Coire manor Brent had ever been allowed to enter. On the far wall were bookshelves with locking frosted-glass doors. Brent had seen them opened once or twice, but only by Ryan. No one came into this room without his permission. Like the front door, the magic of the house itself enforced that rule.
Aside from a massive mahogany desk with a black ink blotter and a collection of pens—ranging from disposable ballpoints, tossed casually on the desktop, to glass dip-pens and gold fountain pens carefully set in velvet holders—the room held a forest-green suede couch with a matching armchair, and end tables with ivory and jade inlay beneath their glass tops. Ryan had already settled himself in the high-backed leather desk chair, while Cooper froze like a deer in headlights. Brent knew he had done the same the first time he had walked into this house last winter—it felt more like a museum than a place people lived in—but now he just settled comfortably on the couch. Cooper finally perched awkwardly on the opposite side of the couch, seeming too tense to lean back.
“Glad you decided to join me,” Ryan said as he pulled a notebook from one of the desk drawers, picked up one of the ballpoint pens, and said simply, “Now, what’s going on?”
Cooper rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. “I feel insane even talking about it.”
Ryan took a slow breath. “Cooper. I don’t care if you’re insane. Often the mad have powers the rest of us can hardly comprehend. That being said, I sensed something out on that doorstep. You called it a ghost. Such creatures, as popular media has portrayed them, do not exist, but there are plenty of other beings in this world who might imitate a person for their own reasons. Most of them aren’t friendly, and many of them can kill a human being through their sheer presence. So I’ll repeat the question. What’s going on?”
Cooper visibly bristled, his spine straightening and his expression cooling. “Samantha is a person, and she would never hurt me.”
