A reluctant ghost at best, Quinn doesn’t like the haunts to which Liam takes him, always fearful of encountering a true medium in the paranormal groups investigating the houses, bent on seeing a ghost.
When Liam sets him up for such a meeting, Quinn breaks from him, not fully understanding the apparition’s cruelty. He’d thought they were friends. But despite his anger, when he believes Liam will go to the manor house without him, a house known to be haunted by a fearsome ghost, Quinn joins him, hoping to keep him from danger.
But it is Quinn himself who is in danger, not only from Betterford’s ghost and the mediums stalking him, but also from a secret Liam’s been keeping, making Quinn wonder if he’ll survive the longest haunt of his life.
The foyer of the great house was caked with dust and the tattered lace of ancient cobwebs. Quinn peered at the chandelier far overhead and shuddered as an unpleasant tingle ran up his spine. He was reminded of a haunted house in a theme park he’d once visited. He’d felt unsettled there, as well. He could almost see a body swinging ...
He reigned in his imagination; it was dangerous in a house like this. The room darkened as Liam walked through an archway on the left, and he hurried to follow him. He would have liked to take some time to examine the furnishings and tapestries of the parlor, but Liam pressed on. Quinn finally caught him at the far end of the room.
“Where’re we going?”
“To find Betterford’s body reposing in the highest room of the tallest tower.”
Quinn gave him a wry look. “Wasn’t that for the Sleeping Beauty?”
“So I’ve heard,” Liam purred, looking like he was about to eat the canary.
Quinn didn’t like the eager way he swept through the kitchen to the servants’ staircase.
He tramped up the dark stairs in the apparition’s wake. Liam’s aura had shrunk to a mere flicker around his hand, casting eerie shadows on the close walls. Quinn was huffing by the time they reached the third flight, and Liam stopped to let him catch his breath.
“Quinn?”
He looked up at the fond tone. Liam stood several steps above, watching him curiously. “You’re a ghost, my beloved. You ought to be gliding up these stairs.”
Quinn’s mouth fell open. “I forgot,” he confessed. His eyes dropped, waiting for Liam’s mocking laughter. It never came. Instead, his friend descended the stairs until he stood level with him. Quinn held his breath as the luminescent hand lightly touched his cheek.
“You give me hope,” Liam said surprisingly. “Here, let me help you.” He slipped his arm through Quinn’s.
They fairly flew up the steps after that. Quinn shouted with the exhilaration that raced through him. He’d never felt so free. He wanted to burst through the roof and fly straight into the night. Liam beamed, sharing his joy in the sensation of weightlessness and speed.
All too soon they erupted into the hallway of the fourth floor. Their laughter died abruptly at the grimness of the shadowy corridor. Quinn winced when Liam suddenly grabbed his hand. The spirit’s eyes glowed with anticipation.
Liam leaned close. “Trust me, Quinn.” His voice was shaking and he cleared his throat. “Whatever you think of me after this, please remember I want the best for you. For us.”
“I don’t understand.”
