"Make love? To a woman?" The second after he spoke, Blade Garner knew he sounded absurd. "I mean, of course it would be a woman. My point–"

"I know your point, good man." Alfred lifted his pointy nose as he leaned on the opaque, crystal top of his crooked cane.

"Why? Of all things?" Blade flopped onto the cloth–draped chair, but there was no satisfying thump. He stood.

"I know it sounds odd, but it was only a matter of time."

"What do you mean a matter of time? I thought I was here forever, never to leave?" Blade shook his head. The news was too unbelievable. "Now, I might?"

"You've earned it." Alfred jabbed the twisted piece of wood like a saber. "You've paid for your misdeed, and we've decided to give you a chance to become human again."

"Who's we?" Blade paced, well, floated with an aggravated intent. "I've been here, not existing, yet knowing I do, and I still don't know who we is?"

"It does not matter. Just know you have a way to redeem yourself."

Alfred's snotty tone only increased Blade's annoyance. "I'm to have sex with a woman."

"No! You must let a woman love you."

"That's what I said."

"That is not–" Alfred stomped away.

Not that his stalking to the other side of the room made any noise, but Blade knew after years of Alfred's constant tutoring that he was angry and stomping. "Why don't you tell me exactly what's going on."

Alfred folded his hands over the top of his cane.

Blade knew a bad sign when he saw one.

"I can give no other details, except a woman must love you."

"This whole cryptic word stuff sucks."

Alfred only stared in that vacant–I'm–a–spirit–who's–better–than–you kind of way.

Narrowing his eyes, Blade crossed his arms over his chest. "At least tell me, how the hell am I going to find this aggressive party girl when I'm stuck in this empty house."

Alfred snapped straight. "You will watch your language, good man." He pointed his cane at Blade's chest. "You'll be good to know that if you plan to have a lady develop an interest in the likes of you, you will be successful only if you learn to control that tongue of yours."

Alfred's outburst relieved Blade's irritation, but he successfully curbed the inappropriate smile lurking inside. Besides, the guy was probably a few thousand years old and didn't have a grasp on what it's like to live in the twentieth century.

"We are no longer in the twentieth, it is now the twenty–first century."

"Stop reading my thoughts." Blade scowled at the old man. "I hate it when you do that."

Alfred shrugged his bony, apparition shoulders. "Don't call me old."

Blade widened his eyes as he realized what Alfred had said. "Twenty–first? I've been stuck in this house almost twenty years?" He waved his hand in Alfred's face. "Never mind." He scanned the sheet–covered furniture, the thick drapes blanketing every window and took notice of the grime for the first time. He'd been haunting these halls for practically two decades. Humbled, he looked back to Alfred. "I'm going to be able to leave?"

"Not un–"

A door screeched and a rectangular beam of bright light broke into the room. Blade shielded his eyes and still had to squint as a figure stood silhouetted in the front doorway.

"Are you sure you want to see this house?" The floor creaked as a man stepped inside.

"Yes," a feminine voice answered, but Blade couldn't see the person through the blinding daylight.

"Who are..." His voice trailed away as he turned and realized Alfred had disappeared.

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