Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (reading books for 4 year olds TXT) 📕

corner and collided with an oncoming figure. I almost cussed Mary out but quickly realized it couldn’t be her, or any ghost for that matter. I’d bumped into something solid. Looking down, I saw Melody in a heap on the floor.

She grinned up at me. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time. There are three kinds of people in this place: the ones who practically run in the hopes of avoiding any ghostly encounters, the ones who creep around for the same reason, and the ones who are so used to seeing specters that it no longer frightens them.”

I stuck out my hand to help her up and hauled her to her feet. “I’m guessing you’re the last kind?”

“I’ve seen these ghosts since I was a child. They don’t frighten me any more than the living do.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know, the living can be pretty scary when they want to be.”

“Sometimes even more so than ghosts.” She linked her arm through mine, taking me by surprise. “But speaking of non-scary living people, I have two that I want you to meet!”

I arched an eyebrow. “Who?”

“My mom and dad.” She squeezed my arm excitedly. “They’ve just come back from their business trip, and they’re dying to meet you.”

“You should be careful saying that sort of thing in this house,” I teased.

“You’re so funny, Finch. For some people, like you, it comes naturally. For others, they try so hard and never manage it.” She giggled.

I cast her a sly smile. “Like Luke, you mean?”

“Finch!” She nudged me in the ribs. “He has his moments.”

“I haven’t witnessed any.”

She dragged me down the hallway. “Did you know that laughter lowers cortisol, making us feel relaxed and comforted? It has long been theorized that laughter began as a way of connecting humans to one another and forming a community through the good feelings it creates. Crying shows distress, while laughter shows unity and bonds people together. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“They should call you the Encyclopedia, not the Librarian.”

She smiled. “What would that make you? The Jester?”

“Oof, low blow.”

“I didn’t mean any offense. See what I mean about being naturally funny? I can never land the punchline properly.” She looked genuinely guilty, switching from laughter to distress in a heartbeat. Ironic, considering what she’d just told me about human nature.

I gave her arm a squeeze. “I was just teasing—no offense taken. You keep coming at me with quips like that, you’ll take my comedy crown in no time.”

Her smile returned. “Phew! For an Empath, I’m pretty bad at reading people whose emotions I can’t sense. I get so worried about offending folks without meaning to.”

“You and the rest of the world. Nowadays, people think ‘I’m offended’ means ‘I’m right.’”

“That’s very philosophical of you, Finch.”

I shrugged. “I can wax philosophical when I want to.”

“Although, maybe keep it neutral with my parents? No inappropriate jokes.” She flashed me a serious look. “I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

I gave a mock salute. “I’ll be on my very best behavior. Besides, parents love me—my mother being the sole exception.”

We walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes through the creepy labyrinth of corridors. The Winchester Mystery House was a mystery for a reason. Its hallways led nowhere, its staircases ended in ceiling, and its doors opened to blank walls. Some doorways were visible from the outside and looked like they opened to nothing but empty air. That wasn’t exactly true. Most led into the interdimensional pocket, but the non-magical public didn’t know that.

The house itself looked like an elaborate Disney World exhibit or a huge Swiss chalet. The red roof tiles gave the impression of castle spires, and the yellowish exterior featured Tudor-esque paneling and colorful stained-glass windows. Palm trees and landscaped gardens covered the front of the property, and two statues stood guard over the entry. Magicals could touch the stone dish of the right-hand statue and whisper Aperi Portam to enter the interdimensional part. A fountain stood between the two statues, too, which looked like… well, it wouldn’t be polite to say. Fortunately, magicals didn’t have to touch that to gain entry.

Rounding the corner of a hallway that actually went somewhere, we met up with my favorite person in the world—Luke. He stood anxiously by the corner, his gaze darting around like he was in the front row at Wimbledon. I guessed he wasn’t quite used to the spooks yet.

“There you are!” he said, evidently relieved. Then, he saw Melody’s arm through mine and scowled. The ol’ green-eyed monster at play.

“I was told to look for a man with a rose in his buttonhole,” I shot back, untangling my arm from Melody’s.

Luke narrowed his eyes. “How about you shut your buttonhole?”

“Ooh, that was quick for you.” I grinned at him. We still weren’t exactly pals, but we tolerated each other. Mostly. Melody had to mediate a lot, but I liked to think of this as friendly banter.

“How come you’re so sweaty?” Luke frowned. “I know it’s not because you’ve been to the gym.”

“Actually, I’ve been freezing my ass off in Antarctica,” I replied.

He smirked. “Then shouldn’t you be shivering instead of dripping?”

“I don’t make the rules.”

“Is that map finished yet?” Luke was giving it full sass. “You’ve been taking your sweet time. I don’t get it—the first one didn’t seem like such a big deal.”

That one hit a little too close to home. “I had the oranges then. Need I remind you of the caffeine metaphor?”

He groaned. “Please don’t.”

“Well, the oranges made it easier, magnet-boy. Without them, it’s been… tough. Like trudging through a swimming pool of mud to get to the other side, only it’s my mind that’s filled with mud, and the mud is on fire, and now creatures are coming out of it and trying to pull me under, and, oh, there’s Satan and his pitchfork trying to jab me in the ass.”

Luke snorted. “Okay, okay, so it’s been a little difficult.”

“But…” I brandished the rolled-up map. “Satan didn’t jab me in