Then she saw no more, they were out of the room and heading down the hall.
Halfway down the hall Cash stopped and put her on her feet. He grabbed her hand and started running again, dragging her on her high heels toward the stairs.
Abby noted absently that Zee was right there with them.
They rounded the stairs and both of them (as well as Zee) came skidding to a halt.
There was a ghost on the stairs.
And it was not the ghost of Cash’s father.
Abby took one look at him and her chest expanded painfully at the same time her heart stopped beating.
Then, heart restarted, hammering in her chest, she whispered, “Ben?”
Ben’s ghostly eyes took in Abby for a moment, roaming lovingly over her face and down her body then they moved to Cash.
The minute her dead husband’s eyes hit her lover, Abby’s heart stopped beating again.
“Take her to the north parapet,” Ben told Cash, his beautiful, deep, sweetly familiar voice disembodied and hanging weirdly in the air.
“I’m not taking her to the parapet,” Cash ground out and Abby looked up at him.
His face was pale and tight, his eyes scorching and locked on Ben. One look at him and Abby knew that Cash knew to whom he was speaking.
“Trust me. Take her to the parapet,” Ben repeated and Cash ignored him, making to move forward.
Ben’s gaze swung to Abby. “Honey,” his beloved voice whispered the casual endearment, Cash’s body stilled and Abby felt her mouth fill with saliva as her eyes pricked with tears. Ben continued gently. “Get him to take you to the parapet.” Abby’s head shook jerkily both with fear and the all-consuming desire not to be seeing her dead husband’s ghost, not now, not ever, and Ben went on. “Please, Abby, trust me. We don’t have much time.”
Then he looked behind him, down the stairs, then back at Cash and Abby.
In an instant, he shimmered to nothing.
Immediately Cash pulled on Abby’s arm and moved forward saying, “Let’s go.”
Abby pulled back, Cash stopped two steps down and looked up at her, his hand still clasping hers.
“Darling, let’s go,” he demanded softly.
“Take me to the parapet,” Abby whispered.
Cash shook his head but his voice was still soft when he replied, “No f**king way.”
“Cash.”
“Abby, no f**king way.”
“Cash,” Abby said, “Ben would never hurt me. They have something planned. You have to take me to the parapet.”
“Abby, I’m certain you’ve already noticed that none of their plans are working. I’m not taking you to the parapet.”
She tightened her hand in his and walked down one step all the while looking into his eyes. “Please Cash. You can trust Ben, I promise. Take me to the parapet. Let’s finish this.” She stopped, noted he looked unyielding, so she begged, “Please.”
“You were flying through the air,” Cash returned.
“I know that.”
“She’s not sending you over the f**king parapet.”
“No, she’s not. You won’t let her,” Abby told him and finished on a whisper, “Neither will Ben.”
“Goddamn it Abby,” he gritted through his teeth and she felt a thrill of renewed fear mingled with elation because she knew he was relenting. She didn’t think she wanted him to at the same time she was glad that he was.
“We don’t have much time,” Abby urged on a tug of his hand, like she knew what she was talking about, which she did not.
He sucked air in through his nose, looked to the side then his eyes came back and locked on hers.
He walked up the steps.
Abby let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.
Swiftly Cash guided her, hand still gripping hers, to the parapet. Zee raced along with them.
The whole time Abby did everything she could not to think about Ben on the staircase and what that meant.
Had he not gone on to the next plane like the rest of her family?
Had he been hanging about their house for the last four years, watching her mope around for three of them, then alone with the new owners for the last one?
How did he get to the castle?
Did Cassandra do this?
Did Jenny and Mrs. Truman know about this?
What did Cash think of seeing Ben?
What did Ben think of seeing Cash?
(Clearly, Abby failed at not thinking about Ben.)
They walked quickly up flight after flight of stone stairs, each one edging the side of the square parapet until Cash pushed up a wooden door in the ceiling. Zee darted forward and Cash led her through. When he had Abby on the roof, the cold air biting into her skin and through the thin satin of her dress, he shut the door.
“Cash,” Abby whispered.
Cash’s eyes sliced to her.
“Later,” he returned sharply.
“We have to –” Abby started.
Cash cut her off. “We have to keep you alive. That’s the primary focus. We’ll deal with the rest of it later.”
Abby started to move closer, saying “Cash –”
He opened his mouth to interrupt when they heard his name, his real name, Conner, said in a musical voice that shimmered through the air around them.
Cash and Abby turned toward the side of the parapet that faced the tor.
Yet another ghost was hovering there only a few inches off the ground. This one was a woman, older, pretty, dainty. She reminded Abby of Nicola but she had several years on her and a sadness about her that hadn’t yet fully blossomed in Nicola and, hopefully, with tonight’s events, never would.
“Gran?” Cash asked, his voice sounding stunned.
“Conner,” she replied on a charming smile that wiped all sadness from her expression.
“Holy crap. You’re Lorna,” Abby thought these words were in her head but when Lorna’s eyes came to her she realised she’d breathed them out loud.
“And you’re Abby.” Her smile deepened and her gaze moved back to her grandson. “The Beaumaris men always had good taste.”
“Wow,” Abby whispered, delighted at the compliment even in their highly unusual, very scary circumstances.
“Gran, what’s happening?” Cash clearly wasn’t feeling into family reunions of the spirit world. He had an objective, he was focused on that objective and even his grandmother’s phantasmic return from the grave wasn’t going to divert him from that objective.
Before Lorna could answer, they heard Mrs. Truman shriek from far away, “What are you doing up there!”