Seven

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"Sam!" I gasp in surprise. My emotions somersault over one another, starting with shock. I then feel relief, and I'm surprised when happiness takes over. In the end, my feelings somehow tumble all the way over to anger and stop there. I glare at him. "Where the fuck were you?"

"Sam?" Caleb asks from behind the ghost. He's staring down at his device in surprise, then he frantically begins to search the room. "Who —"

"Shh." Myka holds a finger up in his direction. She's watching me intently.

"Bria," Sam says again. This time he sounds relieved. "I'm so sorry I left you. I didn't want to, it weakened me." His hands go to his hair as he speaks in a hurried tone. "After I confronted it, I went somewhere. I had no idea where I was. It was dark and empty. But then I heard you, so I followed your voice and here I am." He searches my eyes and looks me up and down. "Are you okay? Did it hurt you?"

I lift my hands in an attempt to slow him down, but he just stops speaking. From the corner of my eye, I see Caleb frown while Myka eyes the air in front of her friend curiously. A few more inches to the right and she'd be looking right at Sam.

"I'm fine," I say, lying somewhat. But I hardly feel guilty about omitting the injury I received last night. "It's okay." I crawl back to the edge of the bed, closer to the worried ghost. "You saved me."

"I did?" He sounds hopeful and I nod, realizing that he actually might have.

"Yeah. You did."

He slumps forward in relief as his tense body relaxes.

"Bria, what's going on?" Caleb takes a step towards me and stops, looking shocked. His hands come up as he wraps them around his arms where goosebumps have popped up. "Whoa, it's freezing in here."

Sam pulls away, looking annoyed as he distances himself from Caleb.

"Caleb, Myka, meet Sam." I motion towards the ghost in the center of the room. He eyes the other members of the living cautiously. "Sam, meet the ghost hunters."

Sam does a double take, and his jaw goes slack. "I'm sorry, what?" He lifts a finger to his ear, like he thinks he heard me wrong.

"Hunters is a weird word," Caleb says defensively.

I look over at him, then look down at the device in his hand. "Ghost hunters," I repeat. He tightens his lips and nods, scratching the back of his neck as he chooses to accept the term.

"Hey," Myka interrupts. I turn to her. "You do realize you're one of us now, right?"

"One of you?" I say slowly, not understanding.

"Yeah, one of us." She smirks and motions towards Caleb and herself. "We plan on keeping you around, so welcome to the club." Caleb chuckles and nods.

"Wait, you're a ghost hunter too?" Sam blurts out. "When the heck did that happen?"

"I-I'm not a ghost hunter!" I sputter as I stare at Myka in disbelief.

"You're talking to a ghost right now," Caleb points out. "And you're hanging out with us, so . . ."

"That makes you one of us," Myka concludes. "A ghost hunter."

Sam looks between the three of us, unsure at first as he scratches his head. But his expression soon morphs into one of amusement. "A lot has changed since I last saw you, huh?"

"That would be an understatement."

Myka claps her hands together. "So, who is Sam?"

But before I can answer, the dresser behind Caleb starts to shake so fast it looks like it's vibrating. The chair in the corner follows, making the air thicken with the sound of wood hitting carpet as the furniture shakes violently. It's like a drum cadence, only with some added danger.

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