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“Ghost!”

“Yes, this place is haunted.” Tears started running down my face. All the warm, fuzzy feelings I’d been experiencing over the past few hours were fading and receding into my memory. “Please, Tristan.”

He glared at me. “This is messing with all the rules,” he snarled.

“Please, Tristan. Please.”

“It’s all well and good showing this to you—you can see me. All he has is a vague sense of unease. He has no idea.”

“Please,” I whispered. “Please.”

Tristan sighed and rolled his eyes, and I sensed victory. “Tell him to stand next to you.”

“Dylan, please come stand beside me.”

Dylan regarded me with incomprehension and fear, but he walked toward me, humoring me no doubt while he decided what to do. He didn’t take his eyes off me.

“Please, Dylan, I’m not mad.” I took his hand to reassure him.

Tristan gave me a wicked smile. “Okay. Let’s really fuck with him. Here you go.”

All the chairs in the kitchen were suddenly perfectly placed in an elaborate symmetrical formation on top of the kitchen table. Dylan jumped, grabbed me, and pushed me behind him, then froze.

Tristan laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “Oh, this is good. I saw this in a film once. I’ve always wanted to do it. Is that enough?”

I glanced at Dylan. He stood staring, trying to accept the evidence on his kitchen table.

“Bit dramatic, but I think so. Wait,” I murmured.

Dylan glanced at me. “Tristan?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I believe you,” he said, his voice faint.

I exhaled a long, slow breath, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with fatigue.

“You can see him?” Dylan asked.

“Yes. He’s here right now. I can see him like I see you. I have almost since I moved in.”

“I see. Are you frightened of him? Has he hurt you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “He’s not like that. He’s very protective.”

“Is he here the whole time?”

“No.”

“Good.”

“Bloody hell, Beauchamp. How long are the twenty bloody questions going to take? I want to talk to you. Alone. I’m still royally fucked off. If I could touch you… I’d—”

“Well, it’s a good thing you can’t touch me!” I snapped.

Dylan stared at me perplexed.

“He’s talking to me,” I explained.