A smile slides across his face and I lift a brow. “Did you have a better relationship with him?”
“Much. Though he never…” Rafe shakes his head and rubs his jaw. “He’s a kind of soft-spoken dude, the type of person who doesn’t like to rock the boat. I remember watching him carve these awesome figurines growing up. It was kind of calming to see him do it actually. He made me this killer racing car when I was like, five. I painted it after he was done. In theory, it’s still in my bedroom...I hope so anyway.”
“That sounds pretty sweet.”
Rafe nods. “Anway, what about you? Anymore life flashes that might give you an idea of where you need to go? Of how you might have died?”
“A few, and they weren’t very helpful. At least not in terms of figuring out where my body might be.” I tell him about the vision of the ice cream shop and Cody’s death. “It’s possible that last one is a good place to start, but, if he’s already dead…” I knead an aching spot between my eyebrows.
“Then why haven’t you run into him?”
“Exactly. Need to ask Kaz about that too. He said there were other schools for younger ghosts, so maybe that’s where he went. There are lots of questions I should’ve asked when Kaz first brought us here.”
“It’s a lot to process,” Rafe says. “When I first died I could barely keep my thoughts together, much less come up with semi-intelligent questions.”
“Are you calling me semi-intelligent?”
“No. I wouldn’t do that to your face.”
Rafe laughs and I give him a little shove. He windmills his arms, grabbing one of mine to try and save his balance, but pulls me with him as he tips over backwards. When he hits the ground, I land on top of him, hip to hip, nose to nose. This close I can read every line on his face, see every scar and freckle.
I breathe him in, barely aware of the pain lingering in my shoulder. “I kind of want to kiss you, Rafe Warren.”
The tips of his fingers brush my jaw, following it to cup the back of my neck. “Don’t think I’d mind that much at all.”
We make the move at almost the exact same time, our lips meeting in the middle. I don’t remember if I ever kissed anyone when I was alive, but if I did, I’m positive it was nothing like this. Cold and heat collide in me all at once. And though it takes a round or two to get in sync, the process is giggle-filled and all kinds of wonderful.
Rafe slides his other arm around my waist, pulling me closer. I grin against his lips and thread my fingers through his hair. For this one, shining moment, I forget all the conspiracies, all the mysteries, all the loss swirling around my afterlife. I’m wrapped up entirely in him and I never want to untangle myself from this place.
I trace his nose with mine, and trail kisses down to his neck.
Then an earth shattering scream shocks us both apart. Terrified, I half roll, half jump off Rafe, scrambling around to stare at a massive Twisted Ghost tearing through the woods toward us.
My chest clenches as I kick the ground to try to get upright and out of the way. Rafe and I grab at each other’s arms, stumbling sideways seconds before the massive, screaming shadow plows into us. Its whirlwind tugs at me, trying to pull me into its orbit the way Abby did to Mark at the party.
My eyes sting with tears at the pain radiating off it.
Spinning back around, the Twisted Ghost rages after us. Rafe’s feet go flying out from under him and I barely get a good grip on his arm before he’s sucked backward. I grab the trunk of a tree and dig the heels of my boots into the dirt, pulling as hard as I can. Fur springs up along Rafe’s arms as he shifts into fox form.
His paw nearly slips from my fingers, but he’s so much lighter now that yanking him toward me is easy. Rafe curls against my jacket as I whip myself around the tree and sprint for Locklear. The Twisted Ghost beats me to the door. I cling to Rafe, my feet stuttering as I back peddle into the nearest tree.
A thin branch breaks off in my hand and, in a moment of sheer, illogical panic, I lift it in front of my face. Words pour out of my mouth, a spell I know as well as the one I used to fight the Xers in Blacksburg, and blue light sparks across the wood in my hand. It fans out like a glowing shield in front of me and Rafe and all at once the tugging feeling dies out.
The Twisted Ghost recoils from it, screaming louder. Under all the rage and fury, I hear one, heart-shattering word: “help.”
Tears spill over my cheeks. Something about the voice is painfully familiar. Memory hovers just out of reach. I stretch for it, but can’t seem to even touch its edges. If I could just get past that stupid mental wall. Swallowing, I glance down at Rafe, then inch forward.
The fox still in my arms digs his claws into my jacket, but doesn’t try to escape. It’s almost like he’s anchoring himself to hang on for the insane ride I just decided to take us on. I could put him down, let him run, but he might be safer behind this spell than anywhere else.
I take a breath and, keeping the shield up, step forward.
Chapter Nineteen
The Twisted Ghost moves away from me as I move toward it or, more accurately, my shield repels it. I almost drop the stick. If I’d been alone, I definitely would have. But the fox
