Olivia went quiet. “I’ll be there in five.”
The line went dead. “Um,” I said to the phone. “No?”
Shit! Why did Olivia have to attach herself to me like an unwanted ghoul? I already had one of those. I scrambled off the bed and shoved the dresser out of the way. “Alfred,” I called as I yanked the door open.
I stopped short and found him standing on the other side with one of his weird hands raised. His facial expression couldn’t really change, but his eyes had widened. He looked surprised and more than that, I felt surprise coming off of him.
Damn this town! I didn’t want to start divining the emotions of ghouls. “Were you about to knock?”
Nod.
“Did you need something?”
He stared back at me as if he didn’t know how to express what he wanted. I didn’t have time at the moment to play charades with a ghoul.
“Can it wait?”
Another nod.
“Well, you’ve got to go back to your bedroom and stay there. My friend Olivia is coming over and the last thing I need is her figuring out about you.” I paused, frowning. “She’s human. Even though she knows about witches, she doesn’t know I’m a necromancer or about ghouls.”
He nodded and backed away. He walked down the hall and straight into the room I gave him to stay.
I hurried after him and shut the door, then went downstairs so that Olivia wouldn’t have any reason to come up here.
Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. I cracked the door open, but Olivia bustled in, chipper and smelling like lemon oven cleaner. “You saved me from a night of cleaning. My mom has Sammy since school is out for an inservice tomorrow, and Sam’s at work. Now I don’t feel guilty about not doing it.”
She grinned like she won the lottery or something. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. Her cheeks were a little flushed, but I couldn’t tell if it was from cleaning or the excitement of bothering me. I was guessing it was the latter.
I almost crossed my eyes at the thought but caught myself. Be nice. This is Sam’s wife and the mother of his beautiful little boy.
“Great. I’m so happy to help.” I sighed and followed Olivia into my living room, noting how she scanned the room. She wasn’t looking for something in particular because she’d never been inside the house before. I knew all too well the types of rumors that floated around about Old Vicky. Most of them were true.
“Okay, so the dish on Owen is that nobody knows who he is or why he’s here. Everyone has noticed him, cause of course they did.” She shuddered delicately. “He’s so creepy. He looks half-dead himself.”
She sat back and nodded her head decisively.
“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s all you know?”
She blinked at me several times. “Well, what else should I know? Besides, he bought an old lighthouse not far from here.”
The lighthouse was interesting.
Shrugging, I tried to be nice. “I don’t know, you just came over here to tell me you don’t know anything?”
Olivia’s grin almost made me smile back at her. “What, I can’t want to spend time with my friend?”
I blinked a few times. How to answer her? “We’re friends?” I kept my voice light. I wasn’t trying to be a jerk, not really. It was hard to trust someone that spent her high school years making mine hell.
Maybe Olivia had changed like Sam said. It wasn’t like I spent a lot of time around her since I left. In fact, I avoided her because I was still leery of her.
She responded instantly with laughter. “That’s what I like about you. Your sense of humor. Of course, we’re friends, well on the way to being best friends!”
Batting her eyes, she smiled again. I felt true joy coming off her as she spoke the words. Then she added, “Anyway, tell me about your son.”
My first reaction was to tell her my son was none of her business. It was a knee-jerk response because of my trust issues. But Olivia was my best friend’s wife, so it was highly possible that Sam had told her all about my business.
I tried to just give her a few facts and get her on her way, but the next thing I knew we were at the kitchen table sipping on cups of tea. And laughing about crazy things our kids did.
“I really don’t know how that boy made it to Harvard.” I smiled as I downed the last of my tea. “At least not alive.”
Olivia giggled. “I know what you mean. My two got more bruises walking through the house than anyone I know.”
There was something in her tone that made me pay more attention to her aura. It had darkened slightly. But Olivia kept that smile in place.
Sam had mentioned that Olivia’s first marriage was rough. I didn’t ask for details, but I was curious to what could make Olivia change her evil ways. I was afraid I didn’t want to know.
Maybe she did deserve a second chance without me giving her a hard time. See, I can be nice and friendly.
“Sam said you lived in Philly.”
I nodded and as I began telling Olivia about my home in Philly, a thump overhead made us both freeze and look at the ceiling.
That damn ghoul. What the hell was he doing up there? Watching TV wasn’t that loud. And please, Universe, I hope he didn’t lose a body part.
“What was that?” Olivia asked.
I masked my features and quickly said, “Either my cat or the house misbehaving.” Damn it, it was definitely Alfred. The room he was in was right over the kitchen.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. “The house… misbehaving?”
How was it she knew I was a witch but didn’t know the house was magical? After all it was one of the local legends. “Yeah, I think it’s mad that I’m selling.”
She giggled nervously. “The house is mad?”
I shrugged while hiding my smirk because it was way too much fun messing with her. Then I had a change of heart and filled her in on the truth about the magical old Victorian. “It’s been in the family for a long time. And you know my family are all witches.”
She eyed me carefully and nodded, so I continued. “My great, great, great grandparents built the house over a thousand years ago.”
Maybe it hadn’t been that long, but that was the story my mother told me, so I passed it on. Olivia lifted a brow while her lips twisted in a small smile. “A thousand years?”
“Yes, at least that is the story passed down to each generation. So that’s how I’m telling it.” I wrinkled my nose at her, making her laugh. It was a good thing they weren’t drinking alcohol. “So, as I was saying. Way back when my great times four or five—I’m not really sure—grandmother came over from Ireland, they settled here and built this house overlooking the ocean. It’s said that spells were weaved into the wood as it was built, making the house magical. It would protect the witches who lived here.”
Olivia started at me with her mouth open and brows drawn together. Disbelief rolled off her in waves. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Now I’m sure it’s only been a few hundred years. My mom told me that version of the story, so it’s the one I told Wallie. He didn’t believe me either. But the house really was built by my ancestors and is magical to the point it acts alive. Although I thought it was Aunt Winnie’s magic that kept it alive.”