Page 94 of Hot Ghost Summer

“I was listening to what you were saying,” he begins, blond hair bouncing as he steps sideways to inspect Theo. “Not in a creepy way. I was looking for you, and so I was concentrating really hard, and well…”

He shrugs, and his off-the-shoulder Bohemian-style silk blouse slips further, exposing prominent collarbones and a simple golden necklace that reflects the light from my electricity.

He squats, tight leather trousers and oversized biker boots squeaking and creaking. “He’s pretty. I like his tattoos.”

I watch, mesmerised, as Herz crafts some of his own using shadow magic. A dark and thorny stem wraps like a vine around his wrist and forearm, before blooming into vibrant red roses. If I hadn’t watched him do that, I’d never have guessed it wasn’t a real tattoo.

“Anyway,” he continues, turning his hand this way and that. “I think I can help you both. With your permission, of course.”

I arch an eyebrow and dip my chin to peer at him over the rim of my glasses. “Help us? How? Why?”

Herz switches from squatting to sitting, extending those big boots with their intricate buckles between us. “The why is easy. We’re family.”

He says it so matter-of-factly, and although I know it to be true, I’ve never thought about it being the case. Herz is my… great-grand uncle. I scrub my hand over my face, and my form glitches again.

Herz frowns, then extends his decorated hand. “Here, can you absorb my shadow magick like you can electricity?”

The invisible wall of power that sits just off the tip of his finger is overwhelming, but Herz nods encouragingly. Hesitant at first, I slowly reach out, and a shadowed tendril bridges the short distance between us. It coils around my power, the perfect dark harmony for the brilliance of charged electrons, and stabilises my wavering existence.

I let out a sigh of relief and smile in gratitude. “Danke.”

Herz nods, eyes drifting once more to a still unconscious Theo, and then to my hand that rests protectively on his head as I idly stroke his temple with my thumb.

“Why’s he inside a ring of salt?” he asks.

“Revenant possession.”

“Ah.”

“How do I help him, Herz?”

His face pulls into a wistful expression, and he forms a stalk of dried grass with his magick that he twirls between his fingers. “That depends.” He offers me the stem. “On whether you love him.”

Stunned by the question, I accept the plant automatically. Love him? I’ve never thought about loving anyone. It’s been me and my duty for as long as I can remember. And love Theo?

I look down at where he rests. I’ve only known him for a week. How can I know if I love him?

A second, much deeper and more resonant voice startles me. “I didn’t know at first either. Love. Such a powerful word.”

I scan the darkened recesses of Theo’s flat for the man who I know is there, but I can’t see him, not until a gloved hand strokes through Herz’s wavy hair. The famous geist himself then emerges from the shadows, and his piercing black eyes strip me bare of the guarded layers I’ve spent my life carefully crafting.

“From the very instant we met,” he continues, voice low and smooth, intimate, as he speaks to me while looking only at Herz. “There was an undeniable connection. I hadn’t even seen him; the only thing I knew was his voice, but that was all I needed to know. My Heart found his way home with a single word.”

Herz reaches up, covering the geist’s hand with his own before bringing it down to press against his cheek. The words strike a chord. Ted’s snarky voice has always grated—Gerald’s is even worse. But the instant I met Theo, it was his rougher northern timbre that filtered through me in a visceral way.

I avert my eyes from the pair in front of me, who are so free with their obvious adoration of one another, to Theo. Could that unnamed feeling I harbour, the one strong enough to bind me even in death, not be hate at all—but love?

“Often, we fear what we don’t understand.” Herz places a kiss in the centre of the Shadow’s palm.

“What do I need to do?” I ask.

Herz looks at Theo, and the edges of his eyes droop with a heavy sadness. “Revenants are vicious things.”

“Hearts are stronger than they first appear,” the geist states. His tailored suit jacket, draped over broad shoulders, tapers at the waist and lends additional authority to his words.

Still, I shake my head. I’m aware of their story, of course, passed down through the generations. The human who was born an amplifier for shadow magick. But Theo and I, whatever we have, is not some fairytale romance. “He’s not my—”

The curious tilt of Herz’s head cuts me off.