Claire could have told Daniel that just by acknowledging his presence, he was free to leave the cemetery. But he was so strong; stronger than she had suspected. He nearly recognized her, and did recognize the part of her she could never completely hide.

She needed to have control, which meant lying to him. Enough for him to depend on her. That he could see her past the barrier she kept between herself and—

Claire cut off the useless thought, and straightened her shoulders.

“I need you to close your eyes, Daniel, and trust me.”

Both eyebrows rose at that. “Trust a witch? I hardly think—”

“I am trusting a suspected murderer. How is that different?”

Amusement flashed in his dark blue eyes. “Very well. It is not as if you could kill me again.”

He closed his eyes, and Claire laid her hand on his chest. His solid chest. She had heard of this phenomenon—ghosts with enough power to completely manifest. But she had never seen one able to keep themselves so completely in the living world.

She whispered some Latin nonsense under her breath, then stepped back. “You will be able to walk free now, Daniel.”

“Ah.” A wry smile crossed his face. “That I have always been able to do.” Shock jolted her. “What I cannot do, witch, is keep my Juliet from reliving her murder. A murder I did not commit.”

“How do we know that?” Annie stalked over to him, her face still pale, but anger flashing in her eyes. “I want to believe you, but every piece of evidence points to you as her killer.”

“I have the perfect alibi. I was killed the night she died. Before she died. I was on my way to her when I was attacked.”

“Your death was ruled a suicide.”

“You think me unaware of that slander? I watched those fools publicly denounce me, watched my own mother beg and bribe to see me buried here, rather than in an unmarked grave.”

Claire stepped forward, taking Annie’s hand. “Did you ever see who killed you?”

Daniel shook his head. “The bloody coward jumped me. They also ripped apart my reputation by framing me for Juliet’s death. Because of that accusation, and the fact that I was not found until after her murder, no other suspect was ever considered. Because of that,” he moved again, a blur that materialized at Claire’s side. “Juliet has suffered for nearly two hundred years. I am unable to stop her murder, unable to get closer to her than arm’s length. Even then, I cannot see the face of her murderer. Tell me, witch, that you can break her out of her personal Hell.”

“My name is Claire, and I can try, Daniel. How long do I have?”

“She was murdered just before midnight, on All Hallows’ Eve.”

Claire swallowed, fear creeping in.

Halloween was tomorrow.