Kiarr adjusts his broadsword, his blond hair blowing in some invisible wind. "Don't worry, lass, we'll protect you from whoever holds this lance."
"No." I shake my head, my nerves dancing in my gut like a bunch of firecrackers. "Lance is my boyfriend. And he can't see you, either of you."
The Victorian ghost frowns but bows his head. "As you wish, my lady wife."
"Gah!" I throw my hands up. "I am not married. I'm not your wife or the Viking Lord's here either."
"I am a Norseman and not a lord," Kiarr grumbles.
"Whatever." I really need to talk to Melanie. She told me this necromancer ritual would send Kiarr back to his timeline not bring me another freaking ghost. One I was sure I'd made out with in my dreams.
"Look, I don't have time for this! I'm not your Abigail," I point to the gh
