Protected by Stone (A Paranormal Romance Novel) (18 page)

What the hell? Why is it so different?

The building, while still a bit old looking, reminded me of a basic colonial house. The windows were plain, it wasn't even two floors.

Shaking my head slowly, I flipped through in search of a photo of the house, closer to the way I saw it now. It took a bit, but in the middle of the book I found it.

Tessa looked just like me, I was sure she was eighteen or so. She sat on the front step, the smile she'd worn in every other photo muted. At her side was the lantern.
Am I picturing it, or is she sadder here?

Whatever the reason, the house behind her looked like the one I was in, minus the green windows or the moss clinging around.

“Farra Blooms,” a stiff voice said.

I almost threw the book. Gasping heavily, I shined the lantern on the long bird-face of Qui'nxious. He stood in front of the desk, making me wonder how long he'd been there.
Does everyone just like scaring me here?

He towered over me, arms waving like ribbons at his sides. “Forgive me. I didn't mean to frighten you, yes. What are you looking for, Farra Blooms?”

I aimed the light back on the photos. “I'm not sure. Just trying to figure things out, I guess.”

“Ah. The puzzle of this place?”

My head bobbed. “Exactly. I don't suppose there's any chance
you
have some answers for me? I haven't seen you since... well.” My shrug touched my ears.

The eyeless revenant bent to the left. “I only observe. I was waiting to see how you would do as our new caretaker.”

“So you could decide if you'd leave or not?” I sighed.

Qui'nxious leaned towards me a hair. I wondered how he managed not to fall over, his head looked heavier than the rest of him. “Not I, Farra Blooms. I will stay until the house crumbles.”

That made me sit up. “But Junlit told me you guys, you revenants, would leave if I didn't fix the house up.”

“He does not choose for us all.” The way Qui'nxious phrased that made me suspect he was irritated to have someone else speak for him.

I spun the book towards him, pointing. “Were you around before the house changed?”

His beak almost touched the page. “You noticed, yes. I was here before then, before Tessa made this place as it is.”

“But why?” I leaned close, the light glinting on his thin body. “What's the point of being here?”

“Ah, this place calls out to some of us. But all revenants have their reasons for where they end up.”

I waited for him to say more. When it became an uncomfortable staring contest, I slid the book back to me. “I don't get what you are, still.”

He lifted a long arm, tiny fingers making a circle by his head. “Memories. That is all.”

“I—what?”

If he had been able to smile, I wonder if he would have. “What is a memory?”

Frowning, I looked down at the photos. “I guess these are memories. But you aren't a photo.”

“In a way, we are. Yes.” His limbs dangled down by his sides again, boneless. “A glimpse of something else. What you should wonder, is what our meaning is.”

Sliding back in the chair, I wiped my forehead. “I'm really confused. Can't
you
tell me the meaning of the revenants?”

“Only those that know their own meaning can say. The day they discover it is special.”

Huffing, I flashed the lantern on him. “You're being very cryptic.”

I would never get used to his dry, brittle laugh. “Your time here is interesting so far, Farra Blooms. I hope you find what you seek.”

“If it's as slippery as you, I won't hold much hope.” Sighing, I shut the book roughly. “Can you tell me one thing? What exactly did Tessa
do
to change this house into what it is currently?”

He stepped backwards, and strangely, I couldn't get the orange glow to focus on him. It slipped off like he was coated in Teflon. “Tessa found her own meaning. It was what mattered most to her. Good night, Farra Blooms.”

I knew he was gone, that looking would do nothing. I still got up and explored around, checking corners with the lantern for some time.

Looking back into the study, the beam hit the painting. It lit up my grandmother's face, the paint glossy as wet asphalt.

She found her own meaning...

But just what could that have been?

––––––––

I
knocked quietly on the door, glancing down at my list of names. “Hello, Miss... uh.” I blinked twice. “Tochtoch Lob?” This was my final stop in my room cleaning phase, and hardly the weirdest name I'd come across.

It had been over a week since I'd been living in the house. In that amount of time, there had been a lot of learning about my tenants.

Seeing the inside of their rooms had been the most insight into their lives so far. They ran the gamut from plain like my own, to empty spaces with nothing inside, to... well.

I'd seen some crazy things, top among them a giant spider web the color of cotton candy.
The room with the guest that insisted I turn no lights on, that he be left in pure darkness, was kind of nuts too.

Tessa had been very accommodating.

Now, I just wanted to finish my rounds; gathering up baskets of linen from those that used it, while seeing if they needed anything I could help with.

I knocked again. “Tochtoch Lob? Should I come back another time?”

The door swung inwards, so fast it sucked at my ponytail. Standing there in the entry, the figure came to only my elbow. She was covered in yellow hair, it managed to hide most of her face.

Glimpsing one of her blood-red eyes, I was glad for that.

Not speaking, she offered me a towel. I added it to my basket of dirty clothes, hesitant to ask if she needed anything else.

Never making a sound, she stepped backwards and shut the door in my face. “Thanks,” I said to no one. This was my life now.
Should I be worried that I'm already used to it?

Carting the laundry downstairs, I threw it into the big basin I'd discovered in a side room near the kitchen. Water, hot from the furnace, pumped into the giant tub.

I still marveled at the idea of one person doing everything in this house, yet here I was, managing it in my own fashion.

Dusting off my palms, I skipped from the room.
Now to get dinner going, trim the plants in the greenhouse, dust the study, and...
Lost in my mental check list, I slammed straight into Grault.

It was like walking face-first into a slab of cement. “Ouch!” Bouncing backwards, I prepared myself for the hard floor.

He was quick, catching me around the waist snugly. “Miss Blooms! I'm so sorry, I was just looking for you and—are you alright, did I hurt you?”

Rubbing my nose, I felt no broken bones. “I think I'm fine, yeah.”
Skull feels a little rattled, yeesh, he's a brick house.
Standing there, his hands encircling my waist intimately, I felt my blood pressure make a rocket-ship jump.

“You're sure? I really didn't mean to come up so suddenly.”

“It's fine, fine, fine,” I rambled, wondering how to politely remove his arms. He held me close enough that I could see those exotic white eyelashes of his up close.
Pretty, like snowflakes.
Was it possible for him to feel my pulse like this?

Gently, he set me on my feet. “You look dazed. You should sit down.” Deftly, he brushed a strand of hair from my forehead.

“Uh, ah, nope! No sitting, I'll stand.” I knew I sounded crazy. I couldn't help it. Lately, each time I ran into this man, I found myself falling apart.

It hadn't been that way at the start. Recalling the coldness he'd initially offered was too hard. Those thoughts were always shoved aside by the memory of a warm kitchen, kind hands, and muscles that had carried me so easily from the dark night. “I was just... doing laundry,” I said lamely.

He nodded, glancing over my shoulder. “I can see that. I was hoping to catch you before you started making dinner.”

“Oh. I was going to go do that right now.” Lifting a single eyebrow, I wondered what reason he had to come find me. “Why, did you want something special?”

Grault linked his hands behind his back. “In fact, I did.”

“Uh, well,” I sighed, already trying to adjust my plans in my head, “just tell me what it is, and I'll see what I can do.”

“No no, you don't understand.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck rapidly. “I wanted to, ah, well. I was hoping to make dinner for you?”

I didn't bother to stop my jaw from falling open. “You want to make
me
dinner? I—what? Really?”

“Really,” he insisted, lowering his palms as if to soothe me. “You've been working very hard, I thought it would be a nice gesture.”

A nice gesture.
I leaned away, gauging his tight set jaw. “You're serious.”

“Always.”

“But what about everyone else?”

“I'll cook for them, too,” he said, cupping his chin thoughtfully. “It shouldn't be a problem. Are you up for this, Miss Blooms?”

“I haven't had someone cook for me in...”
Years, so many years. And now he wants to do it? Is this... is this a date? Or is he just being nice?
I had no way to know. “Okay, deal. Should I expect anything, do anything to help?”

“Try to relax,” he said, making me think he was talking to himself, too. “I'll come get you at seven.”

I felt myself nodding, my mind trying to keep up with this turn of events. “Seven. Got it.” My body didn't start to feel normal until he vanished out of sight.

Clasping my mouth, I looked at the ceiling.
Did that just happen? Grault is going to cook. Cook! For me!

Is this... good, or weird? Or both?

Seeking answers to my queries in the ceiling cracks was useless. It did distract me from spotting the glowing, yellow form of Junlit as he slipped from the wall across from me. “So! What will you be wearing?”

I screamed, muffling what I could. “Dammit! I asked you not to
do
that!”

His eyes wobbled when he laughed. “Sorry, sorry. It's a simple habit. You'd do it, too, if you could.”

“I don't think I would,” I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples. “Wait. Did you ask what I'm wearing?”

“To your date,” he said, nodding.

“I—it isn't—why would you think that?”

He spun in a lazy circle. “Farra, you can't be so oblivious. Grault
likes
you.” He strained the word 'likes' for emphasis.

My skin sizzled under my fingertips. “You can't possibly know that.”

“Young people these days, tsk. Just watch. My advice is to look nice tonight, maybe wear something dark.” He paused. “Yes. I think Grault likes dark.”

“Slow down,” I groaned, waving my hands like bird wings. “This is too much, too fast. A date? Really? Am I allowed to date someone who works for me?”
He does work for me, right?

Junlit swam through the air, sinking partially into the wall. “Who cares? What a boring question. You should be asking what to do if he tries to kiss you.”

“Oh
god!
” I squealed, sinking to the floor. “Stop it already!”
What will I do, though? I can't pretend the thought hasn't crossed my mind before.

The revenant floated up to me, hovering an inch from my nose. “Listen close, I'll give you advice. If you want a guy to kiss you—”

“I didn’t say I did!”

“—you just have to lean in,
real
close, like this?” He was so near, I could see the tiny veins in his viscous body. “And then, you wait... and let him... do the work.”

Scowling, I reached out to push him aside. When my hand went through him, he just laughed.

“This advice is unhelpful,” I said.

“Fine fine.” Yawning, he moved back into the wall. “You just trust me, though. If I'm right, you owe me an extra pancake.”

“Bets don't work unless both parties agree to them!”

Junlit giggled, disappearing through the wallpaper. Alone with my thoughts, I climbed to my feet in a panic.

If I was going to wear anything nice, I needed to finish that laundry.

****

I
spent most of my evening staring at the sun going down through the green of my window. With the days growing shorter, sunset was fast to show its array of colors.

Bending side to side, I tried to see all of myself in the mirror. I had little in the way of nice clothes, definitely not anything
dark
. Settling on the blue dress I'd worn on my first day was all I could do.

At least I got the stains out of it,
I thought, remembering the long outdoor trek all too well.

Fluffing my hair for the third time, I wondered if it was better down than up.
Will he like how I look? Does that even matter?

Knuckles rapped on my door, sending my goosebumps to life. “Y—yes?” I asked, clearing my throat.

“Miss Blooms?” Grault twisted the knob, but didn't push it open. “It's time, may I come in?”

I stared at the brass handle. What if I said no? Would it spin again, signaling he was leaving? Smoothing my dress, I glanced at the mirror a final time. “It's fine, you can come inside.”

He didn't wait, cracking the door to reveal himself dressed... exactly as he always was. That coat looked extra grey when compared to my blue dress. Picturing Grault dressing up had been intriguing. I'd been fretting over what he might decide to wear. It was obvious he hadn't thought about it at all.

Dammit. I misread things.

Grault's eyes ran up and down, taking me in. Those black pools glittered like jewels in the white of my lamp. “You look lovely.”

Or... maybe I didn't misread him?
“Thanks,” I said weakly, glad he was polite enough not to point out I had dressed up when he hadn't. Looking at his waist, I noticed he was holding something. “Is that a basket?”

He held it proudly in the crook of his elbow. “It is. I thought, well, perhaps a picnic?”

It clicked, then. I knew where we were going. “The greenhouse,” I said.

“The greenhouse,” he agreed, smiling indulgently. “Was it too obvious?”

I shook my head so fast that it made me dizzy. “No, not at all! It sounds nice. I guess I didn't think much about the
where
, in all of this.”