Charmed Spirits (10 page)

It
looked like a home that desperately needed a family.

Jordan
held back a sob, remembering what she’d said to Abby about her lack of a love
life. She deserved to be drawn and quartered in the center of town.

“Okay,
it’s official. I’m ruining my diet with one of these cookies,” Abby said as she
walked back into the room, a nervous smile on her face. “They’re still warm and
everything.” She bit into one and moaned. “You’re bad for me, Jordan Cross.”

Jordan
hiccupped a sob. “I know, Abby. I’m so, so sorry for what I said and did. I
didn’t mean it.”

Abby
lowered her head and sank into her couch, cookie forgotten.

“Abby?”
Jordan knelt in front of her, her hands shaking.

“I
know I’m not pretty. I know that, Jor. I know that I don’t have a chance with
Tyler, or any man in Holiday for that matter. I just thought you understood
that I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Tears
slid down both of their faces, and Jordan took Abby’s hands in a firm grip.
“You are beautiful, Abby.”

The
other woman shook her head vehemently. “Stop it. Just stop trying to make me
feel better.”

“I’m
not going to stop. You have curves to die for.”

“I’m
fat.”

“No,
you’re not. You’re just not anorexic or fake.”

Abby
let out a snort.

“You’re
beautiful. Men look at you, Abby, once you let them.”

“What
is that supposed to mean?”

“Most
men see you as their friend, Abby.”

“If
they even see me at all.”

Jordan
shook her head. “Then that’s their problem. You could have any man you wanted
if you tried. But I know you’re holding out for someone.”

Abby
looked into her eyes and gave a weak smile. “I know Tyler will never see me. I’m
okay with that.”

Jordan’s
heart broke for her. “Don’t be. He saw you yesterday.”

Abby
gave out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, it only took you almost killing me to do it.”

Pain
lanced through her. “I am so, so sorry, Abby.”

“Oddly
enough, that part I can forgive, Jordan. You didn’t mean to do it. You just
need to learn to control it better. And you will, won’t you?” Abby looked at
her with a pointed look, and Jordan lowered her head.

“I’m
going to try,” she whispered.

“Don’t
try, do.”

They
laughed, and Jordan shook her finger at her. “Okay, Yoda.”

Abby
blushed. “Oh God, don’t let Tyler know I’m a geek too.”

“Hey,
I knew it was a
Star Wars
reference too.”

“Yeah,
but you already have Matt. Your geekiness won’t get in the way of getting a
man.”

Her stomach
ached, and Jordan moved to sit next to her friend. Everything seemed to roll
into one, what she’d done to Abby, how her relationship with Matt was
progressing…her entire life. “I don’t know about that.”

“Tell
me about it.” She handed her a cookie and took a bite.

Jordan
licked the frosting off—mmm, goodness—and tried to put into words what her body
had been telling her for years.

“I
almost hurt you because I’m afraid to be a witch.”

“I
know, hon.”

Jordan
resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “How is it you and Tyler knew that, and I
didn’t?”

Abby
blanched a bit at Tyler’s name, and Jordan immediately regretted saying his
name. “Sorry, Abby. I’ll quit talking about him.”

Abby
shook her head. “No, you need to say his name, and I need to get over it.”

Jordan
gave Abby another cookie and didn’t go further on that subject. “Okay, so I
need to figure out how to be a witch.”

Abby
smiled. “You already know, Jordan. It’s in you.”

“Then
why do I suppress it?”

“Because
you’re scared.”

Jordan
looked at her hands and watched as sparks radiated out from the tips. Unlike
the manic energy from the day before, these were warm and loving. Like little
balls of light that sparkled and knew they were in the right place. She should
have been surprised by what she was seeing, but she wasn’t. Her magic was tied
to her emotions, she’d known that. But she hadn’t been taking care of herself,
so she couldn’t control it. She looked at the little balls of light and sighed,
they were right. This was what her magic was supposed to be. Controlled and loved.

Why
couldn’t all her magic act like that?

Abby
held her hands out tentatively, and Jordan watched as the little sparks danced
to her friend’s hands and circled them.

Abby
gasped. “It tickles,” she said with a laugh.

“Really?
It only feels like I’m meditating or something. Like I’m at peace and happiness
is settling through me. It’s warm, sort of like a nice spring day after a long
frost.”

“It’s
really cool, Jordan. Whenever the little balls touch me, yes, it tickles, but it’s
like a connection to you, you know? It’s like you’re sharing yourself. I like
it.”

“I’m
glad you feel safe, Abby.”

“I
feel safe because I trust you.” The magic dissipated, and she smiled. “I know
you got scared, and that’s why you lashed out. Hence why I forgive you. Though
the cookies help.”

Jordan
smiled and took another cookie.

“But,
Jordan, you have to talk about it.”

“Talk
about what?”

“What’s
it like being a witch. You need to talk about it to come to terms with how you
feel about it. Once you do that, maybe you’ll have control. Besides, I want to
know how it affects you, how you feel, what you’d like to be able to do with
it.”

Jordan
froze. It was the same question Abby had asked before, only then it had made
her blow her top off and lose control. This time she felt calm, and she also
knew it was time to share herself.

“Being
a witch is hereditary. My mother, grandmother, and so on were all witches, though
our powers are all unique in strength and variety. My mother barely had any
power, and my grandmother only had a bit more in terms of healing. They had
thought the bloodline was being diluted. Then I was born. Apparently, I have
the strongest powers in centuries. I could, with practice, do any kind of spell
in any kind of discipline, something that is highly unheard of. At least that’s
what my grandmother had said.” And why they’d fought. Her grandmother had
wanted her to pursue her magic and be a true witch while Jordan had only wanted
to be normal. That had fractured their relationship to the point that even
thinking about doing magic made Jordan want cry. It wasn’t fair that now she
was starting to believe in herself, her grandmother wasn’t here to share it. As
a child, she’d used her magic more, but then had cut herself off from it when
the taunting had started.

“That’s
amazing, Jordan. But why didn’t you use it?” Abby said, breaking into her
thoughts.

“Because
when I was five, I made a flower bloom, and Stacey saw me. She ran directly to
her perfectly normal mom and dad and tattled. They in turn told their friends
and everyone who would listen that I was a danger to their children. Kids
stopped playing with me and started to pick on me. The Coopers were the only
ones who stood by me.” She held back the rage that usually came with that
memory. The damned nosey bitch had ruined her life. “I quit using magic after
that.” Damn, why had she let Stacey hold so much power over her? Why was she
still
allowing Stacey to do that?

“And
that’s how everyone knew you were a witch.”

“Pretty
much. I mean our family has always been oddballs. People have been spreading
rumors for decades. But it wasn’t until then that my mistake confirmed it.”

“You
were five, Jor. Cut yourself a little slack.”

“But
if I hadn’t—”

“No,
stop right there. You can’t live in the past. You can’t change it. But you can
move on.”

Jordan
closed her eyes. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You
can if you ask for help. I mean I’m not a witch, but I’m a quick study. I can
help you meditate, look through books, whatever. You need to learn control and,
with more knowledge, that can happen. I’m a teacher, I know these things. I’ll
do anything, Jor. Just let me know what I can do.”

Happiness
and relief filled her. God, she’d almost lost this perfect woman as her best
friend because she was a freaking idiot.

She
pulled Abby into a hug and laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Don’t
think about it. I’m here if you’re here.”

 “You
will
figure out how to be a witch, Jordan. You’re strong and willing to
gain control. I believe in you.”

Jordan
smiled and hugged her friend closer.

“Crap!
Is that the time?” Abby vaulted from the couch and ran to her room.

“What’s
going on?” Jordan stood up and cleaned up their mess as Abby stripped down and
pulled on a pair of slacks and a nice top.

“Sorry
for stripping in front of you, but I have to go. I promised Justin I’d be at
the school to help him get the rest of the sets ready for the Halloween play at
the school.”

“If
you’re doing that, why are you putting on nice clothes?”

“Because
Justin is the principal?”

“Try
again.”

Abby
let out a sigh as she tried to do her hair. “Because Prescott will be there
watching us to make sure it’s up to
his
standards. I hate that I even
care what he thinks, but he controls the purse strings. I hate Holiday
sometimes. It’s so backwards in the way it does things.” She rolled her eyes
and put on mascara at the same time—talented.

Jordan’s
stomach clenched at the reminder of Prescott but ignored it. “I’ll let myself
out then. Good luck, hon.”

Abby
gave a forced smile. “Thanks, I’m going to need it.”

Jordan
got in her Mustang and found herself driving toward the other end of town where
the old Marlow place stood. For some reason, she’d always felt drawn to the place,
at least since she’d come back to Holiday. As the sun started to set, she
parked in front of it. She only wanted to go inside to see if anything remained.
She didn’t want Prescott to tear it down. This place was a landmark…even if
people said it was haunted.

She
smiled. Maybe tonight she’d see her ghost.

Jordan
walked through the unlocked door and froze, her heart racing.

“Jordan…”
Matt whispered.

She
blinked as he stood in the foyer as the last rays of the sun went below the
horizon. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she watched his body
fade from vision.

Oh,
God. Matt Cooper was the Old Marlow Ghost.

Oh,
shit.

Chapter 8

Matt’s
worst nightmare stood in front of him, her gaze never straying from him. Or
rather, her gaze locked
through
him. Fucking shit. He hadn’t expected
Jordan to be here tonight.

How
was he supposed to deal with this? What should he say?

Fuck.

“Matt?”
she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

Oh,
shit, she couldn’t cry. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. Yeah, he, like most
men, couldn’t handle women crying, but he
definitely
couldn’t handle the
tears that were flooding Jordan’s eyes right now.

He
took a deep breath—something really fucking odd to do when he was a ghost
because everything was about fifty degrees cooler in this form—and nodded.

“Yeah,
baby. It’s me.”

Subtle.
Nice.

“You’re
a…you’re…” She blinked again and looked a little unsteady on her feet. Fuck, he
couldn’t touch her to help her.

“A
ghost,” he finished for her. “I find it easier to just say it rather than beat around
the bush. That doesn’t make it any less real.”

She
lowered herself to the floor, her face a bit awestruck, her eyes wide, and her
mouth open. “How…when?”

“I
don’t know how, baby.” He held a hand up to her and traced her jaw about two
inches away from her face.

“Cold…”

He
swiped his hand back and cursed. “I’m sorry.”

She
gulped and shook her head, visibly pulling herself together, though tears still
filled her eyes. “You can’t touch me, can you?”

He
gave a weak smile and shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

“But
you’re touching the floor. How is that possible?”

“I
can touch everything in this house. I can also walk through everything if I
wanted to, but I have to think about it.”

“But
what about outside the house?”

“I
can’t go outside, Jor.”

“What
do you mean?”