Bitter Blood (The Morganville Vampires #13)(94)

And Jenna—Jenna had been able to summon him up, and even get him past the house’s defenses to appear.

Jenna let go of Tyler’s hands, and Claire expected the ghost-Angel to vanish, but he stayed, drifting closer and closer to Jenna as if some kind of gravity were pulling him toward her. “Angel,” she said, “I am so sorry. So sorry.”

Claire realized that she was reaching out toward the ghost, and she remembered Miranda’s stark fear. “Wait!” she blurted, and came down the stairs at a run. “Wait, don’t. Don’t touch him.”

But it was too late. Jenna had already done it, and when their hands connected, Angel took on form, weight, even a little color—almost a kind of reality.

And Jenna sagged back in her chair, clearly exhausted.

“It’s true,” Angel said. His voice sounded as if it came from the bottom of a deep well. “It’s all true what you said. So many spirits here, Jenna. So lost. So angry.”

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t help you,” Jenna whispered.

“I know.” He included Tyler in that, with a sideways glance, and the younger man flinched. He’d probably hoped to be ignored completely. As Ghost-Angel’s gaze moved past him to brush across Claire, she knew how Tyler felt. There was something really, truly terrifying in that empty gaze. “And you,” Angel said to Claire. “Not your fault. I know you blame yourself.”

Claire shivered. The air in the room was feeling icy cold, as Angel’s spirit drew in energy from the world around him. “I’m sorry we lost you.”

“Angel’s not lost,” Jenna said. “I’ve got him. He can help us.”

“I don’t—” Claire took in a deep breath, and it felt like breathing in winter. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Jenna. You know what Miranda said….”

“Miranda’s not here, and I’m certainly not abandoning our friend.”

“You should,” said a soft voice from the kitchen door, and Claire turned to see Miranda standing there with a mug in her hand that steamed fiercely in the chill. “You need to let him go. The longer he stays here, the hungrier he will be. And after a while he won’t be your friend anymore, Jenna. Just like your sister.”

“Don’t talk about her!”

“You have to let him go,” Miranda said. She walked to the table and set down her mug—the contents smelled like hot chocolate—and took a deep breath. “I can show you how to make him go on to where he needs to be.”

Jenna’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “How do I know you can do that?”

“Because I was there, and I came back. He’s confused and scared. I can take him there if you’ll let me. But I can only do it in the morning.” Miranda looked out the window. It was still dark, but there was a strong glow to the east. “And I can only do it if he wants to go with me. The more you make him want to be here, with you, the harder that is. You have to let go of his hand, right now.”

Jenna frowned, but she pulled her hand away from Angel’s, and he immediately began to lose color and substance, taking on the wispy, foggy character of a ghost just barely together. The change, along with the obvious pain and horror on Angel’s face, was so alarming that Jenna immediately tried to reach out again for him.

Miranda pulled her hand away. “No,” she said. “You can’t. Understand? You just can’t. He’s okay. What he feels…It isn’t pain like you know it. It’s confusion. I’ll take him once the sun comes up. It’ll be okay.”

“Mir?” Claire asked softly. “Is this—is this okay for you to do? Is it dangerous?”

The girl sighed and shrugged, just a little. “It’s hard,” she said. “But I’m not ready to go, so I can come back. Not everybody can. And not every time. You remember, don’t you? That feeling?”

Claire did remember, though she earnestly tried not to…. She’d died here, briefly, in the Glass House, and there had been this sensation, when the house’s protections had collapsed, that had given her the feeling of being sucked up somewhere, thrown into chaos. And maybe that would have turned out all right, but it was genuinely terrifying.

She nodded.

“I can do it,” Miranda said quietly. “I just don’t like it. That’s why they were all following me, before. Because they know I can help. I just…I just don’t want to.”

“Can you talk to them?” Claire asked.

“I can,” Jenna said, and Miranda nodded as well. “I guess we both can.”

“I was thinking…” She really hesitated on this, because it seemed like such a selfish use of what she’d just learned. “I was thinking maybe, if it was possible, you could ask them to find out something for me.”

“What?”

“About Myrnin,” she said. “Jenna, you had a vision of him, before. I think he’s being held somewhere against his will. I need to help him, but I need some idea where to look. Can you help me? Can they help me figure out where it is?” She was trying not to make the desperation in her voice sound obvious, but she probably failed hard in that. “Please?”

“It’s too dangerous for her,” Miranda said, and nodded toward Jenna. “She shouldn’t be trying to talk to any more of them. I will, though. As long as she stops making them excited, I should be able to get out and see them….” She looked toward the window suddenly. “The sun’s coming up. Angel and I have to go now. Sorry.”