Book One: Chapter 21

The chill of her hand was intense through his jeans. Uncomfortable, he slid his hand beneath hers, lifting it slightly.

“I hope this is okay,” he told her, as a slight grin crossed her face.

“You’re the first man to hold my hand in many years,” she informed him. “The last one to do that was-” Her entire body flickered, like a shock had gone through her. “-someone whose name I can’t remember.”

“Yep.” Mike couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin was. The longer he held her hand, the warmer she felt. “Now that you’re not pissed at me, you don’t seem very banshee-ish.”

This elicited a frown from Cecilia. “A banshee is what I am, not how I act. It used to be something I was proud to be, a job I was proud to do.”

“A job?”

Cecilia nodded. “Every family had its own banshee. It was my job to guide them into the afterlife when they passed. Nobody loves a banshee for what they represent, but they needed us for what we did. Our wails of sorrow were to anno