Page 119 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

“Good.” He let his head fall back upon the sofa. “Now fuck me. Let me show you how real I am.”

* * *

Afterwards, she was exhausted, lying prone against Theo’s chest, a slight ache between her legs. Theo’s chin rested lightly against the top of her head, and for a while, he didn’t move either. He just held her.

“What do we do now?” he abruptly whispered, and Augustine closed her eyes momentarily.

Her fingers tightened slightly against him, before she pulled back just enough to look down at him. “It’s not up to me,” she said. “It’s up to you. Your choice.”

He nodded, kissing her shoulder blade. “Augustine, if I thought, even for a minute, that I could stay . . .”

He trailed off, but she understood.

“No.” She pushed down the sudden flare of pain within her. “You should go back. Back to yourself. It’s the right thing to do.”

“You were right, you know,” he told her, tracing her lower lip with his thumb. “I came to you for the truth, and we found it.” He paused. “Do you think that place I went to, when you were in the memories . . . do you think that was the coma?”

She shook her head. “No. I think that was the price of magic. It couldn’t sustain both you and my journeys into our past, so it put you somewhere safe. Somewhere it knew you couldn’t get out. That’s why it felt like a trap. Because it was one.”

“I’ll never understand magic,” he remarked, sighing.

She gave a wry half-smile. “Hey, I’m a witch, and I’ll never understand it either. But that’s half the point. Maybe we’re not meant to understand it.”

Theo pressed another kiss to her shoulder. “If only I could take you with me.”

She smiled.

“Do you think I’ll remember?” he asked her. “All this?”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I hope so.”

“What if I do?” he asked her, looking at her intently. “What if I remember? What then?”

“I’ll be here,” she promised. “I’ll always be here. If you remember, come find me.”

“My family . . . you said they’re witch hunters. What if I come back, find you and put you in danger? I know my father, even if I don’t remember that side of him. He’ll still be watching me.” Theo swallowed. “He might learn about you. About your sisters. We’ll be back at square one.”

“No. Not square one,” she replied. “Because next time — if there is one — we’ll know not what to do.” She sighed, laying her head against his chest once more. “If you remember, if you come back, we’ll cross that bridge then. Let’s work first on getting you back.”

“My body’s in a coma,” he said slowly. “I can’t exactly walk in and — what? — tell the nurses I’ve returned?” A faint, incredulous edge crept in to his voice. “They’re not going to just let you wander into the hospital either. There’ll be security.”

Augustine nodded. She’d already thought about that. Turned it over and over again in her head until it stopped feeling impossible and started feeling like something she could do.

“I know,” she said. There was a small pause before she spoke again. “But . . . I know how to get us in. I know how to get you home.”

“Augustine. Wherever you are, that’s my home,” Theo replied instantly, and Augustine sighed.

“God, Theo,” she whispered. “Don’t say things like that when I’m trying so hard to let you go.”

Chapter Forty-Four

The room was too bright.

Not harsh, exactly, but definitely clinical. The kind of brightness from strip lighting that flattened everything into something sterile and impersonal, deleting it of warmth, softness, and anything else that might make it feel vaguely human.

It smelled sharply of disinfectant. Clean, but in a way that felt almost aggressive, and Augustine stood just inside the room letting her eyes adjust, her body catching up with where she was. A pale blue mask covered her mouth and nose, the elastic biting slightly behind her ears, her breath warm and shallow against the fabric.

She took a few steps forward, before she fell into a plastic bucket seat, reaching out to pull one of his hands into her own.