Shimmer (Riley Bloom #2)(10)
It was impenetrable.
Despite my best efforts, I hadn’t left even the slightest sign of a dent.
Only one thing was sure:
Absolutely no one was allowed in or out without Rebecca’s consent.
8
I shrank back, shrank away from it all. Feeling anxious, helpless, and woefully inadequate as I gazed all around. Wondering if there was something else I could do that wouldn’t make it any worse than I already had.
I’d already called out their names—already alternately pleaded with and threatened Rebecca—and was quickly nearing the point of losing it to complete and total hysteria.
Was well on my way to becoming so desperate, I was actually considering making a trip back to the Here & Now so I could try to recruit some kind of backup team that might be willing to help out—when I heard it.
A slight, barely there, rustling kind of sound that seemed to emanate from everywhere and nowhere.
I turned, my face wary as I searched for the source. Watching as it slowly emerged from the shrubbery—a foot, a leg, a torso, a head—all of it coming forth to say, “You are Riley?”
His eyes bore into mine in a way that, well, had I still been required to breathe, let’s just say that would’ve been the exact moment I held my breath until it swelled up into my cheeks.
Would’ve been the exact moment I held it for so long my face would’ve turned blue as my eyes threatened to pop from their sockets.
But, as it was, I just met his stare with one of my own. Trying to decipher the truth from fiction—unable to tell if what I was seeing before me was actually real.
Even though he wasn’t the least bit familiar, even though the words that followed meant nothing to me, that didn’t mean Rebecca wasn’t in on it, or somehow behind it.
That didn’t mean she hadn’t sent him forth for the sole purpose of terrorizing me.
“How do you know my name?” I narrowed my eyes until they were slits.
“I am Kanta. Prince Kanta,” he said, keeping his face soft and still. “And you, Riley Bloom, have nothing to fear. Or at least not from me anyway.”
I pulled my shoulders back, straightened my spine, and tilted my chin in a way that I hoped would come off as far more confident and commanding than I might’ve seemed at first. Steadfastly holding his gaze as I said, “While that doesn’t really answer my question, just so you know, I have nothing to fear from anyone. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m dead.”
He half smiled. Hinting at what could have been a dazzling display of large, slightly crooked, boxy white teeth, pink-tinged lips, and two very deep dimples that marked his smooth, dark skin—if only he hadn’t dropped it so quickly. “As am I.” He nodded, presenting the words in a manner that was regal, kind, and serious all at once. Then he bowed low before me, his shiny bald head dipping and lifting, as those deep, ebony eyes settled on mine. “Normally, I would allow time for a more formal introduction, but I’m hoping we can move past all of that and get down to the business at hand.”
“What business?” My brow rose as I took note of the details: the impossibly high cheekbones, the wide nose, the full lips, the strong chin, and the well-muscled body with the ultra-broad shoulders clad in what clearly amounted to a disgusting pile of rags.
My eyes grazing over a stained and battered white shirt that was neatly tucked into a pair of dark, severely torn, threadbare trousers cut off and frayed at the knees, I couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of prince would go around looking like that. Why someone of nobility, royalty even, would possibly choose to dress so … shabbily.
Though I shouldn’t have been so surprised, since it’s not like he was the only one. Out of all the ghosts I’d met so far, not one of them chose to step it up a notch, keep up with the changing times, or take the slightest bit of advantage of the wonderful gift of instant manifestation that pretty much allowed for an all-access pass to the closet of your wildest imagination.
All of the ghosts I’d met so far had (much to my disappointment) been willingly stuck in some kind of tragically unfashionable time warp, insisting on wearing the same types of clothes they were last seen in alive, no matter the date.
“I apologize if my humble appearance has startled you, or left you doubting my genuineness in some way.” He immediately rid himself of the rags, manifesting an elaborately patterned, colorful tunic in their place. “I trust this look will not offend?”
I flushed, aware of the color rising to my cheeks as a look of embarrassment crept across my face. And I couldn’t help but wonder when I would ever learn to think nicer thoughts now that pretty much everyone around me (well, everyone who was dead anyway) could hear them. Or, at the very least (and far more plausible considering it was me), when I would finally learn how to shield them.
I started to apologize, feeling bad for what he’d heard, but I didn’t get very far before he quickly waved it away. Lifting his hand and flashing one heavily calloused palm as he said, “There is no need. Nor time for that matter. Please allow me to get right to the point since this is a matter of the utmost urgency. Rebecca has trapped your good friend, yes?”
“What makes you say that?” I squinted, not sure I could trust him. Not convinced he could be of any real help.
“I am aware of everything that happens in these parts. Every. Thing. Including your name. I’ve been aware of you and your problem from the moment it started. Which also means, I know you are in need of my help.”