Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 481

Chapter 481: Ava: More Ghost-y
There’s something suspicious about the way Lucas is acting, but I can’t figure out what it might be.

Lucas clears his throat, glancing at Clayton before he says, “You can’t come with us.”

I cross my arms, pressing my lips tightly together to avoid a snippy comment. We literally just had this conversation, didn’t we?

“The ghost is the problem,” he adds quickly. “If it weren’t for the ghost…”

The irritation simmering in my chest cools. This is a fair point. The freaking ghost has been following me around like a stalker, singing creepy nursery rhymes and vanishing only to reappear in even more inconvenient places. Not exactly stealthy.

Selene sighs. He would give away your position faster than a howl.

Faster than a howl? Grimoire pops into the conversation, sounding annoyed. What does faster than a howl mean? Are you trying to create strange metaphors?

It’s the speed of sound, you bookish idiot.

I understand, but it doesn’t make it any less strange.

I run my fingers through my hair, tugging slightly at the ends in frustration as I tune out their more childish than usual banter. Acarus had told me how to bind the ghost, but in typical cryptic vampire fashion, his instructions are about as clear as mud. Isolating its heart in a crystal and a soul token from Shamans, and that’s it. Super helpful.

We can try to figure it out ourselves, Selene suggests. We have some time before they leave.

It’s our only chance.

Grimoire, try to figure out what Acarus meant by the ghost’s heart. I’m sure you’ve got something written in you to help.

He goes quiet for a minute. I don’t think I have much regarding ghosts, but I suppose I can do a deep dive. Give me a bit.

“Ava?”

Lucas waves his hand in front of my face, and I jerk back. “What?”

“You went blank for a bit. Was Selene talking to you?”

“Oh… yeah. She was.”

The raid isn’t scheduled until nightfall. If I can deal with my phantom problem before then…

“I’ll check in with you later,” I tell him, remaining purposefully vague. I’m sure if he knows what I’m planning, he’ll get in my way just to keep me home.

It’s written all over his face. He isn’t hiding his smugness very well at all.

Not at all, Selene agrees sourly. She’s still upset with Lucas.

His golden eyes narrow with suspicion. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing dangerous,” I say, which isn’t exactly answering his question. “You should make sure you have everything you need for the mission, though. I’m worried about you.”

Clayton’s lips twitch with what looks suspiciously like amusement. Lucas’s mouth opens like he wants to argue, but the Aspen Alpha puts a hand on his shoulder, guiding him away. “She’s right. We have a lot to work through.”

As they head toward the strategy tent, Clayton’s voice carries back to me. “I don’t think this will end the way you want it to.”

* * *

“This one feels more… I don’t know, ghosty?” I hold up a cloudy piece of rose quartz against the light of the window, squinting as if I can see a ghost inside of it.

(I can’t.)

Grimoire makes a dismissive sound in my head. That’s not a real criteria, Ava.

“Well excuse me for not having a degree in spectral containment.” I toss the crystal back into the small cloth bag with a sharp clink. “Acarus wasn’t exactly generous with the details. Magic-filled crystals? Empty crystals? A special ghost-type crystal?”

I’ve raided my own hoard of magic-storing crystals for this damn ghost.

The empty ones would logically be more suitable as vessels, Grimoire suggests. A container should have space.

Selene argues, But maybe it needs a lot of magic to bind it. Then the ones with all of her magic inside would be better.

“So helpful. Both of you.” I scowl down at my collection.

Just bring them all, she suggests. Better to have options.

I already planned on it.

Cinching the drawstring on the bag, I suck in a deep breath. “Okay. Where’s our annoying ghost?”

Selene clears her mental throat—which, by the way, sounds vastly different when a wolf is doing it—and says, The cafeteria.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My stomach drops. Not only is the cafeteria always full of hungry people, it’s also where food is being prepared for dinner. And Elverly. There’s Elverly.

The thought of stopping by and seeing a grumpy Elverly after being harassed by a ghost makes my stomach go a little queasy. She’s much nicer to me than she is to Lisa, but I’ve heard her snappy remarks on more than one occasion. The woman’s brutal.

“Tell me he’s not singing that creepy ‘ring around the rosy’ song again.”

No. It’s ‘London Bridge is Falling Down’ this time. Complete with dramatic collapsing motions onto the tables. Several people have left without finishing their food. Elverly is not happy.

Fantastic.

Can I run away?

Running away sounds better than dealing with an upset Elverly and an annoying ghost together.

No.

Fine. It was a rhetorical question anyway.

“Let’s go distract him, then.” I grab my jacket off the chair, already dreading what I might find. By “distract,” I really just mean get him to follow me like the supernatural stalker he is, rather than terrorizing innocent people trying to eat their stew in peace.

“Have you figured anything out on your end, Grimoire?”

Not a thing, he says cheerfully.

“Why are you so happy about it?”

I’m not happy. I’m merely excited to learn something new. Vampiric knowledge has long been a fascination among the erudites of the world.

“The what?”

It’s a snobby word for snobby people, Selene explains.

Erudites aren’t snobs. We are simply lovers of knowledge.

What an interesting word.

I head to the cafeteria with my crystals in my coat pocket.

“Would the Magister be considered an erudite?”

Indeed. I suspect Sister Miriam, as well.

The first time I met her was in her strange home with a lot of books. It seems like a lifetime ago.

“I think she likes to read.”

The intelligent do.

Selene scoffs. Are you saying people who don’t like to read can’t be intelligent?

The bickering never stops.

But their bickering is much better than the strange rendition of London Bridges.

“—burning now, burning now, ashes in the water,” the now-familiar voice of the ghost croons. My skin crawls as it zooms out of nowhere, diving straight for me. “Steal the stones and crack the crown! Crack the crown, crack the croooown…”

“Excuse me.”

My words seem to startle the ghost, who goes silent as he hovers above me. “Yeeeees, my fair lady?”

“Who were you before you died?”