had to help him save her. She had to. He would accept nothing else, even if it cost him his own movement into eternity.
Being a ghost felt more like being alive than he’d expected. Sure, he couldn’t eat or drink, didn’t have to eliminate bodily waste or sleep, but he felt all the same human emotions he’d experienced when he was alive.
Including desire. That one had surprised the hell out of him. Every time he got close to Anabel, his entire body tightened in places that shouldn’t have been possible for a ghost. At first, he’d tried to keep telling himself that it was due to her beauty and the power that radiated from her.
But after the first night, when he’d found himself watching her sleep, aching with the kind of physical need he couldn’t possibly satisfy without a flesh-and-blood body, he’d known it was more. Much, much more.
He wanted her. Desired her. In all the ways a man wanted a woman. Except he wasn’t a man. He was a ghost.
This had to be his own personal form of hell. Because there was absolutely nothing he could do to ease the craving.
When Anabel finally emerged from her morning preparations, showered and dressed in a pair of faded black jeans that hugged her curves, with her dark hair in a jaunty ponytail, he couldn’t make himself stop staring. She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, bar none. Again, that lust stabbed through what once had been his body.
“You look...glowing,” he said. He really sucked at compliments.
“Thank you. I guess.” Her smile made her aura illuminate even brighter, making a glowing halo around her head.
For whatever reason, he felt the need to elaborate. “I don’t just mean your aura, though yours is spectacular. But your human form is beautiful.”
Her smile widened, making her whiskey eyes sparkle. “Wow. Thanks. You kind of made my day.”
He found himself smiling back. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this complimenting thing after all.
He let his gaze drink her up, his entire body burning. Funny how he still felt as if he had a body, even though he didn’t. Even when she turned away, completely unaware of his desire, he tracked her with his gaze.
Focus, he reminded himself. He’d come back for a reason—to save Dena, not ache for a woman he could never have.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she added cream and sugar before taking a deep sip. “Ah,” she sighed. “That’s good.”
“Torturing me now?”
For an instant, she looked stricken, and then she shrugged. “Not my intention at all. But I apologize nonetheless.”
He gave a quick dip of his head to show the apology had been accepted. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“I’m going up to the college where your sister works. I want to talk to some of her friends.”
“Sounds good.” Action, finally. He approved. “What about?”
She gave him a long look, clearly debating what she had to say. “I need to find out about her boyfriend.”
“I can save you some time on that. Dena didn’t have one,” he answered, confident.
One eyebrow raised, she nodded. “Okay, then I need to find out about anyone she might have dated or slept with.”
“No need.” He shook his head. “Between work and school, she didn’t have time. She would have told me if there was anyone special.”
Making an exasperated sound, she grimaced. “Tyler, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure your sister isn’t a saint. This man who has her had to have met her somehow. I’m going to try and gather information to see if we can figure out who he is.”
Tyler started to speak, then thought better of it. No doubt she was right. Not only was she pretty and socially active, but Dena was a healthy twenty-five-year-old. He shouldn’t be acting like the overprotective big brother, not now. Not only had he managed to get himself killed and leave her without any family, but clearly he hadn’t succeeded in teaching her to be careful.
Unless, as Anabel said, the man who’d grabbed her had been someone she’d trusted.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “But you have to consider that it could be a teacher, or a janitor, or even one of her coworkers.”
“Or some guy she’d dated,” Anabel pointed out. “There are a lot of crazies masquerading as normal in the dating scene, let me tell you.”
He cocked his head. “You’ve been dating?”
“I tried. Once or twice—that was it. Just a month ago. I thought it might help me to, you know, get over David. After that, I gave up and deleted my profile from all the dating sites.”
Jealousy stabbed him, completely unwarranted.
“Good for you for trying,” he said, aware of the lie and feeling like a fool. “I think after eighteen months, Dave would approve of you getting back out there.”
“No,” she said softly, her expression shutting down. “He wouldn’t. David was my mate. You were Pack. You know what that means. He’s the only one I will ever love.”
Slowly, he nodded. “I do, though I’m not sure I believe in that particular myth.”
“Myth?”
“Yes. I honestly don’t know anyone who actually met their mate.”
She pointed to her chest. “Now you do. Me.”
Ignoring the emotions swirling inside him, he eyed her. “How did you know? I mean, we all have people we’re attracted to, even people we love. What made you think Dave was actually your mate?”
“I didn’t just think it. I knew, the instant he kissed me.”
He thought of what he’d learned from Juliet. “And Kane McGraw? Did you also know he was your mate?”
At his words, her eyes filled with tears. “I had a breakdown, Tyler. I wasn’t myself.” Holding herself stiffly, she turned away from him.
Clearly, he’d gone too far. He’d realized it the instant he finished speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to point out to you that it was possible for you to find love again.”
Like with me. More foolishness, as he was nothing but a shade of a man. He waited for Anabel to shoot him down.
But she didn’t respond. Instead she hurried away. A minute later, he heard the sound of her bedroom door closing.
* * *
Though initially she’d been hurt by Tyler’s words, the more she considered them, the more Anabel understood his thought process. Of course he’d doubt her conviction once he learned she’d erroneously dubbed a second man her true mate. As if she’d ever been unsure about David, or he about her.
No, she’d been lonely, stumbling around close to the end of a ledge, and when she learned Kane McGraw had come back to town, she’d sought a way to end the dark cloud of loneliness. Back in school, she’d always had a crush on Kane, even dated him a few times despite his being several years older than her, and with the twisted logic of depression, she’d managed to convince herself that the impossible was real.
When he rejected her, saying he loved another, it had been the final shove and she’d gone under. Her bewildered pain and her burning desire for vengeance had blinded her to the truth and to the light. In a moment of weakness, she’d let the darkness in and had nearly caused a good woman to lose her life. Worse, she’d later learned that Lilly Gideon, the woman Kane loved, had spent fifteen years imprisoned by her own