A young man hovered over her. No more than a teenager, from what little I could see in the darkness. Pale hair. Wiry. Small for his age. He looked more like a hologram than a ghost; I could see Hope through him. Another ghost stood at his side, this one opaque, like most spirits. Middle-aged and stout, his arms crossed, he watched the boy try to wake Hope.
"She can't hear you." My voice was breathy and weak, as if I'd strained my vocal cords.
Both men turned to stare at me.
"She can't hear you," I said. "But I can."
The boy smacked the man on the arm and grinned. "See? Told you." He turned to me, grin fading fast. "You need to get out of here."
"Where am--?" I swallowed the rest. My throat was dry, eyes burning, brain fuzzy, but slowly it came back. Someone had knocked me out with a spell. Kidnapped. Again. If I had the energy, I might have laughed.
I struggled to my feet.
"That's it," the young man said encouragingly. "Now, find a way out--"
"There is no way out," the older man said.
The boy turned on him. "And how do you know? Obviously we didn't find it or we wouldn't be here. But no one was here to warn us." He glanced at me. "Okay, now the door is to your right, about three steps--"
"And you think they left it open for her?"
I let the boy guide me to the door. I found the edge of it and ran my hands down either side, feeling nothing but smooth metal.
"Where's the handle?" I asked.
"Problem number one," the man said.
I turned to the boy. "Is there another door? A window? A vent?"
"It's an eight-by-eight concrete box," the man intoned, like a contractor reciting dimensions. "Soundproofed walls. One way in and out--a six-inch-thick steel door. O
h, and the drain. But unless you can transform yourself into a mouse, you aren't fitting down that."
"And you aren't helping," the boy snapped.
"Ignore him," I said.
I peered around, and could now make out the walls. Solid walls.
As much as I'd love to free myself from this mess, there was a point at which I had to call for help--and being locked in a concrete box qualified.
"Maybe I can't get out," I said. "But I know someone who can get in."
Not being able to act in the living world, Eve couldn't get me out of here herself, but she could always be counted on to come up with a plan. And she'd be able to stand guard and scout the house for escape routes. When I'd been kidnapped, she would have tried to follow, so she probably wouldn't be far.
I reached into my pants pocket and breathed in relief as my fingers closed around the silver ring nestled at the bottom. If they'd patted me down for weapons, they'd probably ignored that. Little did they know...
I smiled, clasped the ring and called for Eve.
"It's not going to work," the man said.
"Shut the fuck--" the boy began, then looked sheepishly at me. "Sorry, ma'am."
I motioned for a moment of silence while I summoned Eve again. Then I calmly returned the ring to my pocket.
"It might take her a minute to get here," I said.
"If she can." The man lifted his hands as the boy turned on him. "I'm just saying..." He glanced at me. "What is this friend of yours? A ghost, right?"