Aiden and I get about twenty steps onto the massive front lawn of the Bratton Collection before we spot the flashlight beams of two approaching security guards. They’re walking together along the edge of the grounds, having a quiet conversation.

We both drop flat onto the damp grass.

The guards coast right towards us. We’re not even hidden by anything - the lawn here is manicured to the nines, no bushes, shrubs, or tall grass - but the guards keep their flashlights pointed straight ahead. They’re doing only the barest, most perfunctory check of the territory around them. This is where our one critical advantage comes into play.

No one has ever attempted to rob the Bratton Collection before.

The element of surprise is with us. The guards have no reason to think that this night will be any different from all the others they’ve spent on patrol.

They look cold and bored, and with the grounds unlit, they can’t see much beyond what their flashlights illuminate. Regardless, my heart pounds wildly as they draw closer and closer. We’re so exposed, hidden only by the lack of light.

Aiden makes the tiniest movement, to take my hand and keep me still.

The guards walk past, only four or five feet away from us in the darkness. One of them shivers as the wind sweeps over the grounds, pulling his thin jacket closer to himself.

“Cold as hell out here. They don’t pay us enough for this shit. They could at least issue us some better goddamn jackets.”

“Never gonna happen, Davis.” The other guard tucks his flashlight under his arm so he can rub his hands together. He nods to the dark Bratton Collection building, perched at the end of the pathway, wrapped in a heavy shroud of fog. “Creepy, isn’t it?”

“Let’s go,” Davis answers. “Few more laps and we’re off for the night, anyways.”

They stride away, and I let out an unsteady breath. Aiden squeezes my hand, and I look over at him, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

This is going to be the scariest part. Going right up to the building, completely exposed, relying on the cover of night to keep us hidden. We’re far away from any big city, any source of light pollution. The darkness is deep, out here. Still, if the clouds move, if the moon comes out - well.

It’s not like a trespassing charge would get us in the most trouble. No one will know why we were doing so, and there’s a chance we could talk our way out of it.

But it would blow the heist before it even begins.

Aiden moves first, gracefully hopping his feet beneath him, poised like a sprinter about to take off.

Several things go through my head at once.

First I think athlete, and then I think brave, and that makes me feel all warm inside, watching him with giant heart-eyes. Then I think oh, my fucking god, we’re really doing this, and the warmth disappears at once, replaced by shiver-inducing anxiety.

The path the security guards walk is lengthy. It's one big loop from the back of the building to the frontmost edge of the grounds. But they only spend a minute or so actually behind the building. Our window is small, and we need to get it exactly right.

I gather myself into a low crouch, sweat beading on my forehead, despite the cold.

We wait until the guards disappear around the side of the building. It’s a long, tense moment, and I’m not sure I draw one full breath the whole time.

Aiden says, very quietly: “Go.”

We both leap to our feet and race from the outer edge of the grounds, making for the tree-lined path that leads to the Collection. It’s a huge stretch of open grass, and we are unbelievably exposed.

Aiden is faster than I am, but he must be slowing down for me, because we’re definitely running at my pace. Thank god. The idea of getting left behind is bone-chilling, even when I’m already freezing.

Before we reach the trees, I spot the beam of a flashlight coming around the other side of the Bratton Collection.

“Aiden!” I hiss.

“Just keep going!”

We dart together behind one of the trees, and I sag back against its trunk. It’s a white oak, and I’m tempted to give it a giant hug. Thank you, I tell it silently.

Aiden takes my hand again. “Hold still. They’re coming.”

We press ourselves up against the savior tree. The guards come back around. Davis stretches his arms over his head as they loop again, and his flashlight casts a pool of yellow light onto the patch of grass where Aiden and I were hiding two minutes ago.

This time we wait for them to just get behind the building before we take off again. The fountain before the doors of the Bratton Collection has been switched off for the night, but its lights are on, a beacon through the fog.

Our mad dash turns louder as we sprint across the white gravel surrounding the fountain, and every step feels like a gunshot shattering the silence.

We reach the bushes lining the building and dive for cover as the guards round the side again. We huddle silently in the plants, watching them walk. They’re going slower this time, and one of them actually bothers to cast his flashlight around as he moves along.

“This is so fucking scary!” I whisper. “And the fog and shit isn’t helping, why do I feel like we’re going to see an actual ghost?”

“Well, I don’t have the glasses,” Aiden whispers back, “So if there's an actual ghost, you’ll be the only one who sees it.”

I twist to look at him. I know this isn’t the moment, but after this little comment, I’m officially done waiting for an answer.

“Okay, you know what, Aiden?”

“Shut up, dude, what are the guards gonna think if they walk past and hear whispering from the bushes?”

“Aiden, seriously.” I put a hand on his arm, and his eyes flit over to me. “Why am I the only one who can see Kasey? You made her. You know, I know that you know. You just won’t tell me.”

“I-” He bites his lip. “Isn’t there a better time for us to have this conversation? Like, literally any other time?”

“We have a few minutes before we can move again, anyways, and the guards are out of earshot.”

Aiden sighs deeply. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

“No.” I give his bicep a gentle squeeze. “Come on. Don’t I deserve to know?”

He hesitates, then leans forward to check that the guards are still walking the far edge of the grounds.

“Okay,” he whispers. “I - I didn’t make Kasey on purpose, you know that. I wasn’t even trying to make a ghost, I... Do you remember when I told you that magic is asking energy for something? I mean, it’s more complicated than that, but - essentially.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, I didn’t ask to make a ghost. I asked for you to not get hit with the blow that I could hear coming for you. That’s just about the broadest, vaguest way I could have asked, but I didn’t mean to ask at all, so - it just happened like that. The magic answered by preserving Kasey, in a way that you could still see and interact with her. That’s how it tried to mitigate your loss. But there’s no way to make a ghost only visible to one specific person.”

I stare at him. “Okay…”

“Which I think means…” Aiden runs a hand through his hair, a guilty look on his face. “At the same time that I made Kasey, I may or may not have… also given you a certain, um. Ability. To see what you couldn’t before.”

It takes me a moment to grasp what the hell he means.

“So - you - hang on. Aiden. Did you give me built-in ghost goggles? Wait a minute - wait a minute - are you saying that you gave me the Vision?”

“Keep it to a whisper, man!” He glances anxiously back out at the security guards, who have just reached the farthest edge of their route, and are now circling back towards the building, and us. “I - yes, okay? Yes, I did. I didn’t fucking mean to, I don’t even have any idea how the hell I did it. Ironically it’s what I was trying to do with the glasses, failing over and over, and then I just did it to you, instantly, by accident, when you were-” He breaks off, swallowing. “Yes. I gave you the Vision. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I stare at him, astounded. “Aiden. I’m a card-carrying member of the Bigfoot Field Research Association. I’ve watched every episode of The X-Files. I am literally a part-time ghost hunter. And you didn’t realize that I would find this incredibly fucking cool?”

He blinks at me, caught off guard, apparently expecting the opposite reaction.

“I permanently altered your vision, Jamie! Without your permission, without you even knowing! I made it so that you can see the lingering dead, forever, and you can’t turn it off! This is exactly why I stopped doing magic altogether after my mom left - intentional magic, anyways-”

“Oh, my fucking god.” I could burst into laughter, and I have to remind myself what we’re doing here. “Aiden! This is so fucking amazing, I’m gonna flip out-”

“Shh!” He clasps a hand over my mouth, pulling me closer.

The security guards wander past, and we both freeze, watching in silence as they disappear around the side of the building again. They return a few minutes later on the other side, setting out on the same path, and once more, we go unnoticed. Aiden lets out a breath, and I grin at him, elated.

“Do you realize this is the second time I’ve hidden from security guards in a bush with you? And the first time was an accident.”

“Jamie, be serious. This is a serious thing. I can’t believe you’re not angry with me.”

“Dude! I’m telling you this is the dopest thing I can imagine. I’m fucking psyched. And this means I’ll be able to see Will!”

Aiden shakes his head at me. “You are so weird. You won’t use a ouija board, but you’re stoked to get ghost vision?”

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: the ouija board is demon shit. I do not fux with demons, or the devil. Not now, not ever.”

“You’re a demon,” he tells me.

“Thank god you didn’t give me demon vision. Then I would have been mad. Furious, actually.”

Aiden slowly breaks into a relieved grin. “You’re an idiot.”

“Any other superpowers you feel like giving me? I want to fly! Can that be arranged?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Or mind-reading! I’d love to read everything in your mind.”

Aiden looks positively mortified at the mere prospect. “Yeah, no. I’d rather die than have that happen.”

“How did you not know I’d be excited?” I slap his arm. “You’re so stupid.”

He scowls at me.

“Alright, you know what, dude? You can kiss my ass.”

I wink at him. “Promise?”

Aiden lets out a sharp laugh, then throws his hands over his mouth.

“Enough, honestly! We’re in the middle of committing a crime, for god’s sake, stay focused.” He rocks up onto his knees, peering through the branches. “The guards are about to go back around. We need to pick our moment and move. This is no time for such a ridiculous fucking conversation.”

“Speaking of ridiculous conversations, did I tell you that Noah said he prefers being the bottom because he doesn’t perform as well on top?”

Aiden chokes, twisting to look at me. “What?”

“I mean, he didn’t mean it like that, the context-”

“Okay, what possible context-?” Aiden begins, and I press a hand over his mouth. The guards have just disappeared around the side of the building again.

“Now's our moment. C’mon."

~~~~

We sprint through the darkness, curving around the side of the Bratton Collection, and fear overtakes the exhilaration I was feeling a moment ago. We need to get to the bench beneath Coburn’s window and hide before the security guards lap the building and catch us. Their pace doesn’t seem to be all that consistent, and they could show up at any second.

Aiden reaches the bench just as the glow of a flashlight appears near the back corner of the building, but - I’m a few feet behind him, out in the middle of the path.

I have about two seconds to decide whether to stop and hold still or to just fucking go for it.

I’m already in motion, so I dive for the bench, then realize it was a mistake. I’m going to crash right into it, and the thing is made of heavy stone -

As always, Aiden snatches me out of harm’s way. I don’t even register his hand closing around my wrist, so much as the sensation of being yanked to the side, the trajectory of my fall changing.

He pulls me right into him, throwing off his own balance. We both fall, me onto Aiden, Aiden onto his back. We land behind the bench, and the guards round the corner. The grass muffles the sound of our ungraceful descent, but the impact knocks a gasping breath from Aiden.

“Hey.” Davis pauses. “Did you hear that?”

“I can’t hear shit, windy night like this,” the other guard answers, shivering.

Aiden holds me tightly, one hand braced in the grass, keeping us still. Davis scans the beam of his flashlight around. The circle of light glides along the bench, coming dangerously close to Aiden. I grab his wrist and wrench his arm out of the way; the light catches the very edge of his sleeve, and moves on.

“I swear I heard something.”

“You want to stand here in the cold looking for it, or can we move? I can’t feel my fucking fingers.”

“Man, you wanna get fired if it is something? Help me look.”

A loud crack echoes through the air.

The guards both startle as one of the planters by the front corner of the building fractures and falls apart. The rose bush that was inside tumbles onto the grass, where it’s swallowed up by the darkness.

I look down to see white-blue light fading from Aiden’s eyes.

The guards exchange a baffled glance, then both move past us to take a look at the broken pieces of ceramic.

“Whole thing gave,” Davis says. “From the cold…? Maybe that’s what I heard. We’ll have to report this, or they’ll think we’re letting vandals sneak by us.”

“Fine. I left my notebook in the sec room, let’s go get it.”

They disappear around the front of the building.

I drop my forehead onto Aiden’s chest. “Holy shit.”

“We’re okay,” he murmurs, but his heart is beating just as fast as mine. I can feel it.

I climb off of him and sit up, shaking. Aiden sits up, too, and leans his forehead to mine. I press back against his, and we take a moment to breathe.

“Are you ready?” I whisper, after a few minutes of silence.

Aiden opens his eyes, and I can tell he’s reaching for that pool of calm he needs to make this work. I slip my phone out of my pocket and pull up the camera feed from Coburn’s office.

“Coburn’s not in his office. Are we sure he’s still here?”

“His light is on, and he said in that interview that he works late every night. My deep love of the work compels me to stay, or whatever stupid fucking thing he said - he’ll be back. Let’s get going.”

I nod, then offer Aiden my hands. He takes them and closes his eyes.

Silent minutes slip by.

Heat flows gently back and forth between our intertwined fingers as Aiden focuses his energy. I look up at Coburn’s window, holding my breath.

Frost begins to spread over the glass, climbing its way up from the bottom pane to the topmost arch. At first, it’s just white and swirly, but as it gets colder, it turns glittery - the moisture from the fog, freezing onto the glass. The metal frame is getting the same treatment. As is the lock, presumably.

Which is good, because we need that lock to be cold, if we’re going to smash it.