Chapter 1

The familiar ringing of my cell phone filled the cab of the rented U-haul as I pulled into the driveway of my new fix-up house. I parked the truck before I quickly retrieved my phone from my purse and flipped it open.

"Hello?" I answered in my polite tone.

"Chelsea! Have you arrived yet?"

I smiled at the sound of my twin sister's voice. "Well, hey to you too, Jessica. I'm doing great. Thanks for asking. But let's not get hung up on me. How have you been?"

I heard my sister chuckle on the other end. "Okay, okay, I deserved that. Really though, how have you been, Chels?"

I relaxed in my seat. "I'm doing fine. I just got here, actually. I'm tired from driving for ten hours, but thankfully it's finally over. Now all I need to do is unpack all my junk." I moaned dramatically.

"Are you excited about the house? What's it look like? Oh! I'm so excited you're going to be just an hour away from me. How's Mom doing with you being gone?"

I laughed at Jessica's enthusiasm. "One question at a time, Sis. I'll answer your last one first. Mom definitely hated the idea of me moving so far away to some ancient house just to fix it up. She still hates it, but Dad's there. I figure she'll find some way to survive. Plus, she has her hands full with Cade's debaucheries."

"How is our younger brother doing?" Jessica tiredly asked.

"He's gone and got some eighteen-year-old girl pregnant. Now they think they're going to get married and have all sorts of druggie babies together. It's skyrocketing Mom's blood pressure."

"What's Dad doing about it?"

"Oh, you know, the usual: Absolutely nothing. He's religious about keeping his promise of not interfering in our 'adult' lives. Mom's sick with worry though."

"I bet she is," Jessica replied. "On a happier note, tell me about the house!"

I stared up at the looming structure situated on a slight hill. The grounds were dead and overgrown from years of abandonment. The house was old—built sometime in the 1800's—and its last occupant had kicked the bucket several years back. He'd fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. I grimaced at the unpleasant thought. Of course I'd been show pictures of the house and its interior, but it was so much different seeing it in person. I bought it because I saw definite potential.

"I just got here, Jess. I don't know for sure what it's like on the inside. Pictures just can't do justice to that sort of thing. It looks pretty big and creepy from where I'm sitting." I knew she'd be able to hear the smile in my voice.

"Just your type, huh?"

"You know it! So, hey! Tell me about yourself. How's your sexy hunk of telepathic hotness doing?" I knew that would get her sputtering.

"Ch-chelsea!" Jessica protested. "His name is Kayle, okay? Sheesh! You better not have told anyone about his… gift. He'll kill me when he finds out that I told you."

"Jess, you tell me everything. I'm your twin. It comes with the territory. Have you told him about lil' ole' me yet?"

"Of course I have. We've been dating for almost a month now. Kayle says he's excited to meet you."

"As he should be, just because he saved you from a horrible fate doesn't mean he's automatically in my good graces, and just to calm you down, I've not told a soul about his specialness, and I never will. You should know that. Besides, who'd really believe me? But I warn you, you'd better tell him I know about his something something before we meet because he'd better not try his trick on me."

"He wouldn't do that to you, Chels. He'd never."

"I should certainly hope not, or I'm going to have to open a can of whoop-butt on him."

Jessica laughed. "I'll keep you updated."

"You'd better. Just marry the man already. You'll be set for life. You'd never have to change old people's diapers again, and you can get busy with having rich babies."

"Chels!" Jessica objected.

I laughed at her reaction. "Think about my great words of sagely advice. Anyway, I hate to hang up, but I've got to move the necessities in before it gets dark, and you know how much I consider necessary."

"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow to help you move in the other stuff. Take care of yourself."

"You know I will. You're not the only black belt in the family. Thanks for the help, Sis."

"Just because you think you know how to handle yourself doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful."

"I know, I know. I'll watch my back. Pinky promise." I finally managed to placate my worry-wart sister. We said our goodbyes and hung up. I tossed my phone on top of my purse in the passenger seat. I studied the foreboding house for several minutes before I took a deep breath in preparation.

"Alright! Let's get 'er done!" I clapped my hands together and jumped out of the U-haul truck.

I set the last of the boxes I could carry by myself on the carpeted living room floor. The only things left to bring in were my sparse furniture and the too-heavy-for-me-to-carry-boxes. I straightened with hands on hips as I surveyed the place I would be living in for the next year. It definitely had potential.

Upon directly entering the house there was a sitting room on the right and a dining room on the left. Both were closed off by glass-paned doors. The dining room had a door that lead directly into the modest-sized kitchen. Behind the sitting room was the living room where I stood. The hallway from the entrance ended in the stairway. Numerous years back, modern-day contractors had created another hallway between the kitchen and stairs that lead to the only bathroom at the back of the house. The four bedrooms of the house were all upstairs.

I had my work cut out for me, but it was going to be fun. I've always loved a good challenge. Plus, the house had historic value as well. Something about it being a safe-house for the poor and needy. I nodded to myself for a job well done, but instantly froze when I heard a masculine voice behind me.

"At least the company this time is easy on the eyes." I spun around, shocked I hadn't heard anyone approach. When I did, I was met by empty air.

"What the—" I began.

"Can you actually hear me?" The man's voice came from behind me. I spun back around and, this time, came face-to-face with—I swear—a Greek god in human form. I gasped, hand flying to cover my mouth, and scrambled away from him.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, easily becoming angry and defensive. "Get out of my house this instant!"

"You really shouldn't use such colorful language. It is not befitting of a lady. And I think I should let you know that it's actually my house that you're in." He folded his thick arms across his chest and smirked.

"I'm warning you! If you don't leave right now, I'm going to beat the crap out of you and then throw you out on your face." I did my best to appear menacing. Oh, why did he have to be so good-looking? Why couldn't a creeper look like a creeper, instead of some drop-dead gorgeous hunk of man?

He chuckled, the sound deep and relaxing. "I highly doubt you could, but you're most welcome to try." He grinned, challenging me. I narrowed my eyes and leaped at him. My fist aimed at his face. My expression changed to shock and disbelief when my fist phased right through him. I stumbled forward right through his body. I regained my balance and looked back at him. He was facing me and still grinning.

"I never thought I'd meet someone who could see me… let alone attempt to flatten me."

"Wh-wh-what are you?" I stammered. I had to be hallucinating. He held his arms out like he was telling me to look again.

"What else could I be but a ghost, my dear lady? A figure of the ethereal, I'm afraid. Don't you believe in ghosts?"

I was beginning to panic. I could feel hyperventilation coming on. I counted to ten and calmed my breathing down before I addressed him. "I've never believed in ghosts… apparently until now."

I was suddenly very conscious of the fact I was wearing sweatpants and my painting shirt. My scarlet hair was pulled back into a messy braid. I wasn't exactly looking my best. My poltergeist, on the other hand, wore a black satin shirt with flared sleeves and that had a low v-shaped neckline that idolized his chiseled pectorals. Matching the top, his dress pants were tucked into mid-shin height leather boots. His raven-black hair was somewhat long and unruly. Gold stared out from deep-set eyes. Over all, he was what I had pictured my own personal Greek god would look like.

"So am I supposed to assume you're stuck here… in this house… and I'm going to have to put up with your ghostly ways? You're not a pervert are you? I'm not going to have to worry about you peeking on me when I'm in the nude, am I?" I shifted my weight to one foot, put my hands on my hips, and looked every bit the part of a snooty roommate.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed in outrage. "I would never compromise a woman's honor!"

"Oh, goodie," I replied flippantly.

His body language became cautious. "You're taking all this surprisingly well. A little too well."

I shrugged. "I'm a realist. As much as I'd like to pretend you're not real, that would only mean that I'm going crazy. I don't know about you, but I'm in no hurry to admit that I'm crazy. I'll take belief over that any day."

"I see. In that case, my name is Dominique Salvatore." He bowed with a flourish. "You are?" His breath-taking and unnatural eyes locked with mine.

"Chelsea Hanson. I'd offer you my hand, you know, for the customary handshake, but I'm guessing that would be pointless." He was suddenly touching me. He grinned mischievously as he picked up my hand and brought it to his full lips. My mouth gaped in incredulity. He kissed my knuckles, still grinning, before he let my hand drop.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hanson. I pray we'll be able to get along magnificently."

"Why you!" I slapped his face, but my hand phased through him again. I backed away, feeling fear and disbelief all over again. "How?" was all I managed.

"I can choose when to be solid or transparent. I've been practicing my otherworldly skills for quite some time now. It takes a lot of energy for me to stay physically solid for long, but, like I said, I've had a lot of time to practice."

I forced down another wave of hysteria. "Okay… this is too freaky for me right now. I really need you to disappear or whatever it is that you do. Just… give me some time to get everything straight in my head."

Dominique nodded. "As you wish, Ms. Hanson."

"Please, call me Chelsea. Ms. Hanson makes me feel old," I offered almost absentmindedly.

"As you wish… Chelsea." He lingered on my name, saying it like how I imagined a lover would. Then—right before my eyes—he vanished. I swore I was going to have a heart attack. 25 was not an age that I should have to worry about heart attacks.

Unless, of course, I suddenly found out I was going to be living with a dead guy.