"Spin, spin, spin like a top, watch the blood spill, splatter, drop! Pretty eyes, rolling back, souls escaping through the crack!"
"Thank the Goddess," Lucas mutters as I finish pushing mana into the last rune of the ward Grimoire taught me about ten minutes ago.
The ghost's sing-song voice cuts off mid-verse, like someone muted a particularly disturbing children's show. The sudden silence washes over us like cool water, and I breathe a deep sigh.
"Better?" Grimoire asks, his voice smug as he hangs upside down in midair.
Now he's the only spirit in here.
I sink onto the couch, my shoulder brushing against my mate's with comfortable, informal warmth. "So much better. You're amazing."
The book puffs his chest out. "I know."
Selene snorts from her position as a warmer across our mate's feet.
Lucas wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. I breathe in his scent like it's the oxygen my lungs crave. My semi-frayed nerves settle in the aftermath of the ghost's obnoxious singing.
