Wolf Shifter Diaries: Lies Tamed (Sweet Paranormal Wolf & Fae Fantasy Romance Series Book 2) E. Hall (best fiction novels of all time .txt) 📖

was a member, why would they have her collecting magical objects when his old house contains an entire room filled with them?”

Clove chuckles. “Because he can’t come here. He’s stuck, presumably rendering him and the Klave incapable of communication.”

“What do you mean stuck? Like a ghost?” I ask.

This time Kenna laughs. “You guys are funny. I’m on board with wolves, vampires, fae, and magic. Fine. But now you’re messing with me.”

I lift an eyebrow and meet her midnight gray eyes—like a starry sky. A warm feeling rises inside at her sweetness, her innocence. I want to frown, but all of a sudden, I can’t resist a smile that’s meant to comfort her amidst all this new and seemingly crazy information.

“Clove may be telling the truth. If so, I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t understand.” A slight tremble enters Kenna’s voice as though she doesn’t want the possibility of her father being a ghost to be true.

Clove sits down in a high-backed leather chair. “There are three forms in the spirit realm. Fixed, where a ghost chooses to remain in one location, haunting it in perpetuity.”

Kenna swallows. “Haunting?”

“The term isn’t defined exactly as you’d think,” Clove says. “Yes, they may haunt and spook, making strange or disastrous things happen if they’re out for revenge. Or it can be a place they’re fond of among their family or friends.” Clove claps his hands. “Alister.”

Kenna staggers backward. “What are you doing?”

“The old butler is a ghost, haunting this house. Don’t worry. He’s friendly. Most of the time.” Clove smirks.

A cool gust of air fills the room. Then a fine mist in the outline of a human passes through Kenna. She gasps as though the air whisked from her lungs. Pressing her hand to her chest, she says, “What was that?”

“He’s just identifying you,” Clove says as though having a ghost walk through you is commonplace.

I erect my Alpha shield, which is enough for the ghost to know to stay back. “I should’ve warned you. But I wasn’t sure if Clove was fooling around.”

Kenna grimaces.

“Alister was loyal to your parents and will, therefore, be indebted to you. He couldn’t bear the idea of leaving them and looks forward to their return,” Clove explains.

“Did he, I mean, um, hi. Nice to meet you. Did you see my mom a few months ago?” Kenna asks the spectral figure.

A low moaning voice fills the room like the volume being turned up on an old radio. “I was most pleased to see Miss Jacqueline again. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kenna.”

Kenna’s shoulders lower slightly. “Why didn’t my mom introduce us?”

“Perhaps she knew you’d be alarmed and understandably so,” Alister replies.

She nods as though that makes a certain kind of sense.

“I wish you’d gotten to know them back then.” Alister exhales a mournful sigh.

“I can only imagine how grand this house was.”

In a doleful tone, Alister goes on to describe, in great detail, the liveness of the household.

After a few minutes, Clove cuts in. “As I was saying, there are three kinds of ghosts. The second one is liminal, meaning in between, where they’re half ghost and half physical being. They can walk among us but are prone to fading. And then there are hollow ghosts. They’re separated from their spectral entity and often cast into nothingness.”

“I take it my father is a hollow ghost,” Kenna says.

Clove nods noncommittally.

“How did that happen? How can we find him?” Her shoulders lift and lower as though speaking the words take a significant effort.

“A hollow ghost makes a forbidden trade. Often their life for something else,” Alister says, shaking his misty head. “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”

“And you can only find him if he wants you to,” Clove says.

Her posture relaxes, and she smiles. “He’s my dad. Of course he’d want me to.”

Clove frowns, but he quickly flips his expression. “Of course.”

“We’ll start with my mother. See what she can tell us.”

“I was thinking you ought to start with the diary,” Clove says.

She shakes her head. “It’s blank.”

I can’t read Clove’s angle or figure out what he’s after, but I definitely don’t trust him.

Chapter 11

Kenna

“Why are you interested in locating Greyson Slade?” Corbin asks Clove in a harsh and accusatory tone.

The words and their implication come to me slowly as the last hour of discovery and conversation catch up with me. Of course, there are ghosts. Why wouldn’t there be? A voice in my mind says. The other one is screaming and repeatedly tells me to run out of this house immediately.

I turn my attention to Clove, waiting for his answer. His crystalline eyes land on me and hold. “Because I’m your brother, Kenna.”

It’s like the electrons inside of me magnetize to the lightning flashing in the distance, pulling me toward it with a live current under my skin and in my bones. It’s a physical pull and struggling against it, to remain rooted and in possession of my power, is like pushing against a mountain-sized clap of thunder.

I clear my throat. “Please repeat that.”

“I am your brother. Half-brother, actually. My mother was unseelie fae. Not the most maternal. Left me under a lily pad before I was old enough to walk.” Clove slouches back in the chair with a whimper of defeat.

“I didn’t see that coming,” Corbin says in his Scottish accent. I want to burrow into it, hide there in a den of his wolfiness to protect myself from all this new information. Yet, he remains across the room, leaning against a table with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

The image of baby Clove being abandoned drops into my mind with a thud. “Oh.” I release the tenacity of the pull