Chapter Seven

"Midnight Miracle"

Tabitha

Suddenly, realization hit me like a flash of lightning.

"Wait," I gasped, my voice almost a whisper. "You can see him?"

Casper, too, looked baffled, his transparent brow knitting together in surprise. "Yeah, how can you see me, Mom?" he asked, his tone edging between confusion and disbelief. "I'm…dead!"

Ignoring our mutual shock, Hera turned to the silver-haired man by her side, the man who'd been watching us with a twinkle in his eye and a small, knowing smirk. "Albert, dear," she purred, reaching to pat his arm. "I need to have a word with my firstborn. Can I catch up with you later?"

Albert grinned, and in a gesture I never expected to witness in a grand old mansion, he leaned down, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and gave her backside a quick, playful slap. The sly smile he shot at Hera spoke volumes as he sauntered off, vanishing into the crowd.

Casper cringed beside me, covering his eyes. "I could have lived forever without seeing that."

Hera brushed off the moment as if it were nothing, her eyes narrowing in determination as she jerked her head for us to follow. "Come on. We need to talk somewhere private," she said, her voice taking on an edge that demanded no argument.

We wove our way through the mansion, navigating the twists and turns of the shadowed halls and opulent rooms. Everywhere we went, however, seemed to be filled with more party-goers. Elaborately costumed guests seemed to blur into the gothic backdrop: a vampire lounging against a mantelpiece, a devil laughing as he clinked glasses with a witch in a corset, and even a werewolf playfully howling at a guest dressed as the moon. Their laughter echoed in the halls, spilling out into the corridor each time we opened a door.

As I glanced at some of the couples, I couldn't suppress the ache that lingered inside me—a yearning for something I hadn't allowed myself to fully acknowledge. I missed the warmth, the thrill of a shared moment, the soft vulnerability that came with caring for someone. Casper caught my wistful look, his expression softening. His gaze lingered just long enough to send a spark through me, but I quickly looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed the blush creeping up my cheeks.

Finally, we discovered a library tucked away at the far end of the hall. The heavy oak doors creaked as we slipped inside, and I took in the sight with a quiet awe. It felt like stepping into another era. Shadows danced over the towering shelves, casting flickering shapes across the worn spines and glinting off the dark mahogany of the shelves. The room was grand yet intimate, cloaked in a rich silence that only libraries possess.

My fingers instinctively reached out, brushing along the cool leather covers, each touch grounding me in a way I couldn't explain. It was strange, but I felt at home here, as if the past and present coalesced, breathing life into something I couldn't quite grasp.

Hera wasted no time, planting her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes at Casper, looking very much the part of a disappointed mother. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?" she demanded, her tone filled with exasperation.

Casper rolled his eyes, though there was a slight unease to his expression. "No, first you explain how you're able to see and talk to me," he countered, arms crossed defensively. "Only those with paranormal abilities can do that, you know."

Hera sighed, letting her hands drop as she glanced at me, her expression softening slightly before she turned her gaze back to her son. "Fine. I suppose it's time I come clean," she murmured, as if she'd rehearsed this confession many times before. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, her gaze firm and unyielding. "I am a necromancer, Casper."

Her words settled into the silence of the library, each syllable ringing with an almost eerie finality. Casper and I both gaped at her, and I found myself speechless. The pieces of this puzzle, the strange threads that had woven together to form this surreal tapestry, were finally snapping into place. But still, hearing her declare it outright made my head spin.

"A necromancer?" Casper echoed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he didn't quite trust the truth of her words.

Hera nodded, crinkles forming at the corners of her warm brown eyes as she smiled. "Yes," she said softly. "I know it's a lot to take in, but I have the ability to bring the dead back to life."

Casper shook his head slowly, running a hand through his transparent hair, disbelief etched across his face. "If I hadn't seen everything I have in the past few days," he said, his voice tinged with awe, "I'd say that sounds completely insane."

But for me, her words held a deeper meaning. A realization had begun to dawn on me, fragile and tenuous, like a flicker of candlelight in the dark. If Hera was a necromancer, then… maybe…

"If you're a necromancer," I ventured, the hope bubbling up in my chest, "does that mean you can bring Casper back?"

Hera's gaze softened, but she didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked at her son, her lips pressed together in quiet contemplation. "Before I even consider it," she began, her voice low and steady, "I want to know what he did to end up cursed. Because clearly, that's what happened here."

Casper shifted under her scrutiny, looking anywhere but at his mother. "I…may have ghosted a few people," he muttered, guilt shadowing his expression.

Hera raised an eyebrow. "Ghosted?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice tinged with regret. "I left without saying goodbye…to a few women. Morticia included, the witch who unalived me." He met her gaze, the weight of his remorse clear. "I thought ghosting them was kinder than ending things outright, but…I know now how wrong I was."

My heart ached for him, and I couldn't stay silent. "He did the same thing to me," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But he didn't mean to, and I really don't think he meant to hurt anyone. He's…he's changed. And…well, I care about him."

Hera looked at me steadily, something almost maternal in her gaze. Then she turned back to Casper, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Casper, this is exactly the kind of girl I'd hoped you'd bring home one day. Someone who can see through your nonsense and still like you anyway."

Casper chuckled, the tension easing slightly as he looked over at me, his eyes shining with warmth. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, and I quickly looked away, my heart fluttering.

Hera seemed to make up her mind, her posture straightening with resolve. She took a deep breath, raising her hands. "Alright," she said, determination hardening her voice. "I'll try to bring you back."

An intense silence fell over the library as Hera closed her eyes, her hands lifting slightly, fingers moving in slow, deliberate motions. I could feel a strange energy gathering in the room, a kind of quiet anticipation that seemed to hum in the very air. Shadows seemed to deepen, drawn to her as if pulled by some invisible force.

She whispered something under her breath, her fingers tracing intricate shapes, but as I watched, nothing happened. Casper remained as ghostly as ever, his form still tinged with that otherworldly glow.

Hera frowned, lowering her hands as she looked at him with surprise and a hint of frustration. "That's…strange," she murmured, more to herself than to us. "This should be working. My powers must not be strong enough."

Something raw and powerful suddenly began to stir within me. It was as if this moment, this place, and this situation were all converging, aligning in a way I couldn't ignore. The library, with its worn leather-bound tomes, felt like an anchor, a place filled with both past and present, life and death. And somehow, I knew—this was where I belonged, and I knew what…who…I was.

Without thinking, I stepped forward, reaching out and taking Hera's hands in mine. The instant our fingers touched, an electric surge shot through me, filling me with a strange, potent energy that seemed to radiate from my very core.

Together, we focused on Casper, our combined energies intertwining, amplifying. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the power that pulsed between us, feeling it course through me like a rushing river, unstoppable and vast.

The air crackled around us, heavy with anticipation, and I sensed something shifting, a veil lifting, the boundary between life and death bending and flexing.

And then, as the grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime midnight, I felt a final surge, a wave of energy that surged outward, rippling into the space around us. I opened my eyes just as Casper's form solidified, his ghostly glow fading, replaced by the warm, living color of flesh and blood.

He was alive.

For a long, breathless moment, none of us moved. Casper looked at his hands, flexing his fingers, his eyes wide with awe. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet mine, his expression filled with wonder and gratitude.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and threw my arms around him, my heart pounding as I felt the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his pulse beneath my fingertips. He held me close, his hands gentle but firm, grounding me as we stood there, surrounded by the scent of beloved old books and the lingering magic that had bound us all together.

And then he pulled back, just enough to look down at me, a tender smile on his lips. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with a depth of feeling that sent warmth flooding through me.

Before I could respond, he leaned down, capturing my lips in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of promises yet to be kept, of futures waiting to unfold. It was a kiss that held the weight of everything we'd been through and the hope of everything yet to come. And as I stood there, hand in hand with Casper, surrounded by the timeless wisdom of the library and the echoes of magic that still hummed in the air, I knew that this was only the beginning.