Haunted (Otherworld 5)

"I know there's a pie in here somewhere," I muttered.

Paige wasn't the talks-to-herself type, but the freezer was around the corner, meaning the Nix might have some trouble finding me. Yet at least a minute passed, and nothing happened. Would I hear her footsteps? On a concrete floor? What are you, stupid? I backed out of the freezer fast, before I did an Abby Borden and caught a hatchet to the head.

Still facing the freezer, I strained my eyes as far as I could to the side. The bare bulb cast my shadow across the floor, along with the shadow of the freezer and stacked washer-dryer combo. But no Jaime-shaped one. For thirty seconds, I stood there, neck cricked slightly off-kilter, watching the floor for a fresh shadow. Finally, I gave up, quietly lowered the freezer door, and slid along the wall to the doorway. Aspicio powers would come in real handy right about now. Damn, I was spoiled.

From the left of the doorway, I could see the bottom of the stairs. No sign of the Nix. I cast a blur spell, then quickly leaned out for a peek, and jerked back. Unless she was hiding in the cold cellar--with the door closed--she wasn't down here. I'd definitely heard her on the steps. Had I heard her descend all the way? No, because I'd been distracted by cookies. There's a defense for the books.

I was pretty sure I'd heard her continue past the back-door landing. What was it Lucas had said? Considering what we were dealing with, "quite sure" wasn't good enough. So "pretty sure" really didn't cut it. I should have been more careful. She could have headed back up while I was ogling a box of frozen baked goods.

"No!"

I jumped, nearly stumbling into the open doorway and blowing my cover.

"I didn't ask--No! This is mine!"

It was the Nix, that same un-Jaime-like snarl I'd heard upstairs. The voice came from the enclosed stairway. Who was she talking to? Not Lucas or Savannah, that was for sure--not in that tone.

A hackle-raising growl reverberated down the stairs. Then a thud-thud-thud as the Nix marched, heavy-footed, back up. The screen door squealed open. I hurried from my hiding place to the foot of the stairs.

"Jaime? Is that you?"

She kept walking, letting the door swing shut behind her. I galloped up the stairs and out to the yard. By the time I got there, she was at the edge of the driveway. Lucas stopped mid-throw, and the ball rolled from his hand. Savannah dove to catch it, chortling at his fumble. Then she saw us and stopped.

"Jaime!" I called, jogging after her.

She ignored me.

"What's with her?" Savannah whispered.

Lucas shushed her and said something under his breath, distracting her attention from Jaime. I caught up to the Nix, and touched her arm, but she flung me off and growled something about needing some air. When I turned, Lucas caught my eye and motioned for me to leave her be.

"Time to order that pizza, I believe," he said as he scooped up the ball. "What does everyone feel like? I think Hawaiian might be a nice change. We haven't had that in a while."

"Duh," Savannah said, snatching the ball from him. "We don't have it because I hate pineapple."

"Really?" he said. "I do believe I saw you put pineapple on your banana split last night."

"That's because banana splits are sweet, and pineapple is sweet. Pizza is not sweet. You don't mix sweet stuff and nonsweet stuff. It's gross."

"But you always put plum sauce on chicken strips, and that is definitely mixing sweets and nonsweets, so your logic, it would appear, is faulty, and--"

"Oh, stop being a goof." She whipped the ball at him.

"I'll order the pizza and get what I like."

She marched off into the house, hair flipping behind her, thoughts of Jaime long gone.

"Nice save," I said when she'd left. "You're really good with her."

He only nodded and returned the ball to its place at the foot of the hoop. I often wondered what it was like for Lucas, this package deal. If he'd wanted Paige, he had to take Savannah, too. How many twenty-five-year-olds would have gone for that? Not just accepted the inconvenience of having a kid around, but embraced the whole foster-father role? Well, okay, I've known a few twenty-something guys who wouldn't mind having a teen girl as a ward, but there was never any question of that with Lucas. Right from day one, he'd been exactly what Savannah needed--a combination big brother and father figure who balanced her ideological conflicts with Paige. I wanted to thank him for that. I really did. But I couldn't think of any way to do it that wouldn't embarrass him...and probably me, too.

"I think it's a ghost," I said when Lucas returned.

"Hmmm?"

"What's happening with the Nix. She was acting pretty freaky inside, staring into space, then snapping at herself. If I have Paige's abilities, then she must have Jaime's, meaning she's probably seeing a ghost. When I mentioned that, I startled her--maybe she didn't realize that's what was happening."

He nodded. "It could be. It could also be Jaime herself."