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“Emily,” he warned.

I nodded and felt all the blood drain from my face. From the corner of my eye, I saw Tristan sit up and cross his legs. “This is going to be interesting,” he murmured.

“Tristan is sitting on the bed,” I said to Dylan.

“On the bed?” Dylan’s eyebrows rose. “With you?”

Tristan snorted. “Jesus fucking Christ. It’s not like I can touch her!”

“Please,” I whispered, trying to calm him down.

Dylan tilted his head to one side. “Please?” he asked.

“I was talking to Tristan.”

Dylan took a deep breath. “Get up off the bed,” he ordered.

What!

“Emily. Off the bed!” he snapped, and I scurried to stand beside him. “That’s better,” he said, but I could tell he was angry.

“Why are you doing what you’re told?” Tristan scowled.

“He’s my guardian. It comes with the territory.”

Tristan’s scowl deepened. “Ask him what the fuck he wants to know,” he said.

“Stop swearing,” I admonished him.

“Yes, Spook. Stop swearing in front of my niece.” Dylan looked at me as he said it, not in Tristan’s direction.

Of course, he can’t see him.

“Spook?” Tristan said in disgust.

“I’m just going to look at you while we do this because it’s freaking me out, okay?” Dylan muttered to me.

“You don’t need to be freaked out.” I wanted to reassure him.

“Yes, he does,” Tristan said.

“Tristan! Please. Behave.”

“Yes, Spook, behave,” Dylan repeated while still looking at me. His eyes had grown larger.

I reached over and touched his arm to reassure him. In a moment, Tristan was beside us, glaring at where my hand touched Dylan’s arm. I let go.

“That’s better,” Tristan growled.

I frowned and narrowed my eyes. Turning back to Dylan, I asked, “What do you want to know?”

“I was going to ask you for the article you told me about this morning.”

“Sure, do you want it now? I can email you the URL.”

“Well, not now. Not while the ghost is here. I want to talk to him. I have questions. Let’s just get on with that, if that’s okay with you and your ghost friend.”

“His name is Tristan.”