Eternal by Debra Glass Page A

coaxed.
    I debated.
    “I assure you no harm will come to you,” he said, obviously amused by my apprehension.
    “Are you going to…possess…me?” My voice quavered.
    “Not yet,” he whispered. “Close your eyes.”
    Yet? What did he mean by yet?
    “Close your eyes, Wren.” It was not a request.
    My heart pounded but I acquiesced. My lashes gently fluttered to my cheeks and with anticipation coursing through me, I stood, waiting. I breathed in the musty scent of the attic mingled with the fresh fragrance of rain as my mind ran wild. Intuitively, I knew he hadn’t moved. Not even an inch.
    My body tingled from his energy but when I opened my mouth to remark on it, a lightning bolt spiraled toward the earth.
    I tensed. The old house trembled.
    Electricity fired through my veins. Every hair on my body rose as if I’d somehow become one with the energy of the lightning. Without opening my eyes, I smiled.
    “You felt it!” he exclaimed.
    My eyes snapped open. “Yes, yes, I did!” I cried, giddy with excitement. I looked down at my arms and hands and then back up at Jeremiah.
    He seemed almost human in the shadows, as if his form had taken on more substance.
    Looking at him in the dim light, I found it all too easy to forget he was a ghost. I gnawed my bottom lip, wild with the desire to touch him.
    “What was it like?” he asked.
    My gaze found his and then dropped away. “It felt like…like you.”
    He stared for so long that I thought my hasty remark had embarrassed him. At the very least, I’d embarrassed myself. A hot blush crept into my cheeks. “I…I should be getting back downstairs. If Ella wakes up—”
    “She’s not awake,” he interrupted quickly.
    My lips closed. Shaking from head to toe, I realized he hadn’t given me a choice. Hope welled that he might be as interested in me as I was in him but I refused to think past this enchanted moment.
    “Hold your hand up,” he said.
    Cold chills washed over me but I complied with his request, bringing my right hand up, palm facing Jeremiah. My resolve swerved as his gaze held mine whole. He lifted his own hand.
    He intended to touch me!
    It was going to happen, and waiting for it was the most intense, torturous pleasure I had ever known. Some part of me knew this moment would remain indelibly etched in my brain for the rest of my life and even beyond. The breath left my lungs in a ragged rush as he moved his hand closer and closer until our palms faced each other a mere two inches apart.
    “Do you feel me now?” he asked, his eyes still linked with mine.
    I gave an imperceptible nod. Energy radiated from his hand until I experienced the same sensation of holding two powerful magnets close to one another. Resistance sparked like an invisible barrier between us and I knew that if he moved his hand one millimeter closer to mine, the resistance would miraculously transform into instant attraction. Part of me thrilled at the idea of touching him. Another part of me feared he wouldn’t feel human.
    Or worse, that I wouldn’t feel him at all.
    His eyes narrowed slightly. “I sense fear from you. And something else…”
    My heart sank and just as I started to withdraw my hand, he reached out. The magnetic resistance became an irresistible draw that pulled his hand to mine with the power of a vise. I gasped as his fingers laced between my own, as I felt an unmistakable energy grip my hand.
    He drew in a jagged breath, his gaze fixed on our joined hands. When his eyes met mine to gauge my reaction, a half-smile claimed his lips. “Do you feel that?” he asked.
    Trying in vain to swallow, I nodded and, unable to hold his gaze, I looked once more at our entwined fingers. His index finger brushed my knuckle and I wanted to melt on the spot.
    “I’ve never been able to touch anyone before,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Anyone who could feel it.”
    My breaths came in shallow, quick gasps. I feared I’d hyperventilate. If he could touch my hand,