Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 484

Chapter 484: Ava: In Love With a Deception
“Why do you think we can’t kill her?”

Malloy gives me one hard, calculating look—then simply melts. Literally.

His spectral form liquefies right in front of me, spreading across the floor of Ivy’s cabin like spilled mercury, refusing to engage.

“Seriously?” I sigh, rubbing my forehead. Trying to talk to a crazy ghost is a terrible drain on my brain.

A face suddenly bubbles up from the center of the puddle, causing me to jerk back. Two hollow eyes blink at me from the rippling surface.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” Malloy asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

I shake my head. “No.”

His shoulders rise from the puddle now, giving him a bizarre half-formed appearance. “Will you seek vengeance for me?”

“You literally just said it was impossible,” I point out, sidestepping his question.

He sinks back into his puddle with a pout that would be comical if it wasn’t attached to a mad ghost. “Right. Right. Impossible. Sleep with madness.”

“Is it possible for you to just… not be crazy?” The question comes out blunter than I intended, but dancing around the issue seems pointless. I need to take advantage of his lucidity, however long it lasts.

Malloy stares at me, his liquid face suddenly frozen. “Am I mad?”

No point sugar-coating it.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

He slides down until only half his face remains above the surface, watching me with an unreadable expression. Then suddenly—he springs up, reforming his entire body in one fluid motion. Before I can react, he’s crawling toward me on all fours, fingers splayed against the floor and his movements jerky and unnatural.

I flinch back. Selene lunges forward with a warning growl.

Malloy stops, a too-wide smile stretching across his face. “You want vengeance. I can taste it.”

I clear my throat and straighten my back.

“I want to destroy it,” I admit slowly. “It shouldn’t be in this world.”

His giggle sends a chill racing down my spine. He extends one translucent hand toward me—filthy and ragged, the nails torn and caked with something dark. “Shake on it. Promise me vengeance.”

“I’m not promising something I’m not certain I can deliver,” I tell him, keeping my hands firmly in my lap.

His giggle fades away. He stares at me for an uncomfortably long time, his head tilting at a strange angle.

“What do you want?” he asks finally. “You want something from me, don’t you?”

A dead thing wants something from me, and I want something from it. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would walk away from this bargain. But my life surpassed common sense a long time ago.

“We need your heart.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Grimoire’s book form vibrates with disapproval.

I’m not sure divulging our intentions to a vengeful spirit is the wisest course.

I can’t blame him for his opinion, but there’s something inside of me insisting I’m making the right choice. Granted, we all know how terrible my decision-making can be, but…

I just know.

There’s something about it.

Malloy’s head tilts back and forth. “What’s this?”

“Your heart,” I repeat calmly.

The ghost’s entire form shivers, rippling outward from his chest.

Selene hasn’t relaxed her defensive stance since Malloy started crawling toward me. I place a calming hand on her back, though I’m not entirely sure which of us needs the reassurance more.

I don’t trust this ghost, she mutters. If it harms you…

“Do you want to stay here, haunting our cafeteria and making everyone miserable?” I ask, keeping my voice even. “Because that seems like a pretty shitty afterlife.”

Malloy tilts his head to the other side, so far it’s practically horizontal. His eyes bore into mine, unnervingly lucid despite the manic energy radiating from him.

“I can give it to you.”

I blink, caught off guard by his easy acquiescence. “You… can?”

Can we trust him? Grimoire questions, but of course I don’t have the answer for his question. We’re all operating blind here. No one took courses in Ghosts 101.

Malloy’s form flickers, stabilizing into something more solid-looking. He places a hand over his chest. “They took my body. Burned it to ash. But my heart…” He smiles, and there’s something jagged and broken about it. “My heart is mine to give.”

I shift uncomfortably. It can’t be this easy. Nothing is ever this easy.

“What do you want in return?” I ask, because there’s always a price. Always.

His expression crumples into something resembling grief. “Vengeance. I told you.”

“Against the dream-eater,” I clarify.

He nods, suddenly still in a way that ghosts shouldn’t be able to manage. “The abomination. The thief. The one who stole her face and wore it while it killed me. Yes.”

His words send a chill down my spine. It wore Ivy’s face, moved with Ivy’s body, and spoke with Ivy’s voice. Even Clayton had never suspected…

A perfect, terrible copy.

I doubt I’ll ever know if I met the real Ivy, or if it was always the dream-eater from the beginning. But this ghost—I don’t know. The way he keeps focusing on how it stole her face…

“Did you know the real Ivy? Before the dream-eater took her place?”

Malloy’s spectral form immediately begins to shift. His eyes dart around the cabin, refusing to meet mine. The edges of his body ripple, and I can practically see him retreating into his madness again.

“Ivy, Ivy, quite contrary…” he half-sings. “Ivy on the wall, in the hall, watching all who fall…”

I’m about to sigh in frustration when something unexpected happens. A single, perfect tear slides down his translucent cheek. The droplet seems almost solid compared to his misty form, leaving a glistening trail in its wake.

The appearance of the tear seems to shock him as much as it does me. His mouth forms a small ‘o’ of surprise, and the manic energy drains from his face.

“My brother,” he whispers, suddenly coherent. “My brother knew her.”

Something tightens in my chest.

“Your brother?” I prompt gently, afraid to break this moment of clarity.

Malloy nods, his form growing more stable. “He thought she was wonderful. Beautiful. Kind.” His voice catches. “He was deceived.”

I think of what the dream-eater did in our camp. Twenty-eight confirmed dead. Hospital destroyed. Lives shattered. And that was just in Wolf’s Landing. How many others had it killed before finding us? How many had trusted it with their lives, their hearts?

Malloy raises a trembling hand to his face, fingers brushing at the tear with an expression of wonder.

“I’d forgotten,” he murmurs, staring at the moisture on his fingertips. “Memories from long ago…”

Selene shifts beside me, her ears perked forward with interest. Ask him about his brother.

“Who is your brother?” I ask, carefully keeping my voice neutral. “Is he still alive?”

The ghost looks at his wet fingertips as if they hold all the answers in the universe. “I don’t know.” Then, out of nowhere, he brings up his other hand and snaps his fingers in my direction. “Bring out the rock. Hurry now, you silly thing.”

His personality is as fluid as water and as changing as the tides. Not bothering to ask how he knows about the crystal, I pull it out of my pocket, only to startle when his incorporeal form reaches out with wet fingers to touch it.

The crystal glows.

“My heart,” he snaps. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Making a ghost cry. Do you have any shame? Any shame at all? Why bring up memories? They’re buried for a reason.”

His scolding makes my skin shrivel a little. “I’m… I’m sorry?”

So the heart is… his tears? Grimoire asks dubiously.

No. I think it’s his emotional connection to his most important person, Selene says thoughtfully.

How can you assume it’s his most important person? Maybe he had a wife and children.

Fine. An important person, even if it isn’t the most important.

Grimoire huffs a little. It’s good to be accurate and not run with assumptions.

Ignoring their all-too-familiar bickering, I watch the crystal’s glow intensify. As it does so, the ghost’s body seems to fade.

“It will be good to rest,” he murmurs, staring at the crystal. Then he looks at me, blinking with clear, calm eyes. “Did I ask you for vengeance?”

I hesitate. “Yes.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t do it. Vengeance is never worth it. Look how I ended up. She killed my brother, and I…”

His brow furrows.

“You died avenging him?”

A soft sigh. “I’d prefer that story. Never trust a dream-eater.”

His form flickers, barely existing as the crystal continues to shine. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“I fell in love with a deception.” He smiles sadly in my direction, then glances at Selene. “A story Selya would understand.”