Page 79 of Want Me, Take Me, Haunt Me, Make Me

“This is the biggest reason,” she said, then made a face as she realized the other potential meaning there. “My job, not sex. A girlfriend who can talk to the dead is kind of a thrill when you’re young…and when you don’t realize how messy that can get.”

“Here I thought your predicament was unusual.”

Hazel laughed. “I’ll admit the current situation is an outlier. It hasn’t been my first brush with property destruction, though, or with injuries.”

“And Brandon took umbrage at it?” An outraged note entered Maxwell’s voice, and his arm tightened around her.

While the reaction was absurdly pleasant in a way, Hazel shook her head. “Not umbrage, and I can’t really blame him. I have a cousin who won’t date firefighters or cops. Probably schoolteachers now, the way things are going,” she added with a sigh. “A lot of people won’t get permanently involved with soldiers. A relationship where you know the other person puts themself in danger pretty regularly is a lot. What I do isn’t that dangerous—and don’t get me started on the police—but I can see how it’d stress a person out.”

He glanced down at her, surprised. “You’re very understanding.”

“A decade or so helps with that. I can’t imagine you hold many grudges from back when.”

“No,” said Maxwell, “not against humans, at any rate. But I’ve had more than a decade, not to mention a rather dramatic shift of perspective.”

Hazel shrugged. “I’ve been seeing ghosts since I was ten,” she said. “Maybe my perspective was off from the start.”

“Or wider.”

“But I’m definitely not immune to flattery.”

* * *

Maxwell didn’t point out that Hazel had been in danger as long as he’d known her, andhe’dgotten involved with her regardless. For one, it smacked of insecurity to compare himself to her ex-husband. For another, he didn’t want to remind her of the danger in question, how high the stakes and how low her chances of escaping.

He didn’t really want to remind himself either.

Instead, he combed his fingers through her hair again and asked, “Do you know why you started seeing ghosts so young?”

“It was a gift. Sort of. I think,” Hazel said, fondly exasperated with what had clearly been a mystery for most of her life. “I was at the mall in the middle of January. Mom was buying grown-up stuff over in the Bon-Ton, so I was waiting at KB Toys, and an old lady came up to me and asked if I could spare any change. It was pretty suspicious in retrospect. I’d never seen any homeless peopleinthe mall—outside, sure, but even then the security guards would chase them off. Morning in America, you know.”

“Not really, but carry on.”

“Right, sorry. Anyhow, I told her I was sorry, I didn’t have any money on me. I’d already spent my allowance, and she probably didn’twant gumballs or Barbie clothes. She looked cold, though, and she had small hands, so I asked if she wanted my mittens.”

“Generous of you,” said Maxwell, impressed but unsurprised.

Hazel glanced down, her face heating. “I figured I could stick my hands in my pockets long enough to get to the car. And I didn’t like those mittens. They were sort of gray and scratchy.” She chuckled. “Occasionally I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d given her a pair Ididlike.”

“What did happen?”

“She took them, put them in her pocket—she was wearing an absolutely enormous coat—and said that I was a good child. Then she sort of whisperedsee trueand kissed me on the forehead before I could dodge.”

A little tension had crept back into her body as she told the story. Maxwell didn’t ask questions when she paused, just waited. He was about to tell her that she didn’t have to go on when she did.

“To me,” she said, “the world went sort of bright and transparent, and then I blacked out. The people around saw me drop to the ground and have a seizure. By the time they got there, the woman was gone. When I woke up, well…” She lifted her hand from Maxwell’s chest, then dropped it back, a gesture that said the rest was history.

“Notquitethe thanks a child would have wanted, I suspect.”

“Ha. No. Although…” Hazel shrugged. “I don’t know. When I’m in an everything-happens-for-a-reason mode, I can’t imagine my life otherwise. And arguably, it’s better to know and be able to act. It’s not as though the other worlds will go away if I don’t see them.”

“There’s that.”

Without the “gift,” she wouldn’t have come close to death or worse half a dozen times in the last month, nor would she be facing a variety of dire fates and little way to escape them, but Maxwell didn’t bring that up. He suspected Hazel was thinking of it too. If she wasn’t, he was glad she’d found a minute or two of reprieve.

“Besides, as supernatural entities go, it could have been much worse.”

“True,” said Maxwell, “though gifts don’t generally get one entangled with demons.”