Give Up the Ghost

by Jenn Burke

  Omar blinked and his frown deepened. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure. Just...you know.” My smile didn’t feel steady.

  “I’m sorry about that—what I said to Iskander.” Omar rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I can’t even remember why I did.”

  “No?”

  “I’ve got to stop working doubles.” He gestured to the rear door. “Mom’s got supper ready. We can tackle the backyard after.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  I couldn’t say what I ate—I was too busy watching Omar and waiting for the influence I’d exerted over him to fade or break or...something. But it didn’t. He smiled and laughed with his mother-in-law, and he was congenial with Iskander, which I could tell was throwing Isk for a loop. When the subject of Yasmin’s upcoming party was raised, and Iskander started to politely bow out, Omar interrupted him and insisted it was a family affair, so the entire family should be present.

  Very carefully, I laid down my fork before it could fall out of my nerveless fingers.

  I didn’t know if I should feel triumphant or nauseous. I’d done that. I’d fucked with his head and changed his thinking—for the better, there was no denying that. But still. Cold swept through me at the scope of it.

  “Are you okay, Wes?” Yasmin asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I swallowed a completely inappropriate giggle at that phrase and shook my head. “No, I’m fine. I think maybe I’m just chilled.”

  “I’ll make some tea. Warm you up before you head back outside.”

  I was pretty sure tea wasn’t going to touch the chill in my gut. I needed answers, not a hot drink. But then, answers rarely fixed anything, either.

  Chapter Eleven

  Even though it was late when I got back to Toronto, I hopped in the car to head to the hospital. Rosanna and Darrell were keeping a round-the-clock watch in shifts, and I’d texted Rosanna already to see if she was there. I figured she would be since Darrell had been there that morning when I’d visited. She met me in the waiting room outside the ICU and gave me a quick update along with a big hug. Nothing much had changed from when I’d been there earlier—Lexi was showing some improvement and the doctors were cautiously optimistic. I took it with a grain of salt since she hadn’t woken up yet.

  Rosanna pulled back to look at me with a critical eye. She flicked a finger at my cheek. “You’re extra pale. What happened?”

  I tugged her over to the quietest corner of the sitting area. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start.”

  Concern eclipsed the exasperated amusement in her expression and she grasped one of my hands. “Take a breath. Start at the beginning.”

  “My magic. It’s—”

  A low shout from the direction of the nurses’ station caught my attention. Rosanna and I both rose to see what the problem was, but before we could take even two steps, a shriek froze us in our tracks.

  “Oh my god, what is that?”

  I darted toward the desk at the ICU as the commotion got louder, and louder. More voices, more shouting. Items clattering to the floor. Chaos gaining momentum.

  A nurse stood on the desk, looking down at the floor, and she glanced at us as we appeared. “I think it’s a rat?” she said in a shaky voice.

  I shared a look with Rosanna. A rat in a hospital? I mean, it probably happened...but my gut was telling me it was something else. I could tell Rosanna agreed with me—power rose from her, a familiar feeling, and I welcomed it.

  “Call Maintenance,” I said to the nurse. “We’ll see if we can corner it.”

  “Oh god, be careful. It was really big and I think it might be rabid.” She crouched on the desk and reached for the phone.

  There was a scream from deeper within the ICU and we darted forward. The nurse’s usage of the singular pronoun was a good sign. I hoped, anyway. Except I’d yet to see one of these things on its own. Normally there was one, and then there were six, and then...

  We came around a corner to the sight of another nurse smacking a small creature with a metal tray. It was definitely an imp. And bonus—its fixation on the nurse meant that Rosanna could use her magic. It worked fine to defend someone else. She muttered a soft word and the imp disintegrated into a puff of dust.

  The nurse swung the tray once more before he realized the thing he’d been fighting was gone. “Where’d it go?”

  “I think you scared it off,” I said, sure to insert gratitude into my voice. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah—I’m good.” He discarded the tray onto a cart with a clatter. “Wow. Just when I thought I’d seen it all. Rats?” He shook his head, then seemed to realize we were in an area we weren’t supposed to be in. “Thanks for coming to check things out, but we’re all okay. You can head back out to the waiting room now.”

  “I’m going to go check on my daughter, if that’s okay?” Rosanna said. “Lexi Aster.”

  “Sure, of course.”

  We started back in the direction of the sitting area, and I waited only until we were out of earshot before hissing, “How the hell was it here?”

  Rosanna gave me a worried look. “I don’t know. They’re finding a way through from the beyond.”

  “But how? Why?”

  “The why might be simple—because there’s a weak point and they want to exploit it. They’re not intelligent creatures. They can’t plot or plan.”

  “So they’re not, like, the vanguard of an invasion or anything.”

  “No.” She paused. “Or, not an intentional one.”

  Any relief that had sprung up at her initial, definitive denial washed away. “Oh.” Lexi had said something similar, though—that the open weak points were just begging for things to come through.

  “Your biggest challenge is going to be determining if there’s one hole, or multiple holes, and then you’ll need to find a way to plug them.”

  “And how the hell do I do that?”

  “Magic.” She squeezed my arm in reassurance. “I’ll see if there’s a hole here and patch it. But you’ve got to find out if there are others, Wes. Because this is only the start.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “The start of what?”

  “If the wrong things discover these breaches?” Worried lines etched into the skin around her mouth. “Something very, very bad.”

  * * *

  I stepped into Hudson’s house in time to hear the shower shut off. It was nearly 7:00 a.m. and the sun was kissing the horizon—not risen yet, but it would be soon. My feet were dragging. Hudson had been out with Evan on a case way later than usual, and after the incident at the hospital, I’d gone home to my apartment to get myself together. Except Michael had been there—so I’d ended up going ghost and walking. Just...walking. The exercise hadn’t helped to get my thoughts in order.

  I trudged over to the big window in the living room and pulled the blackout curtains closed in preparation for sunrise. Given Hudson’s little incident of not-burning a few days ago in midday sun, I didn’t think the glow on the horizon would bother him, but better safe than sorry.

  I leaned my forehead against the thick fabric. Maybe it was the exhaustion making everything seem insurmountable, but I suddenly felt every one of my 110-ish years. How was I going to find the holes in the otherplane and stop imps—and worse—from coming through? And what about Aurora House? God, I’d barely thought about that in the days since Lexi was hurt. We needed to go back and actually complete the job Kee had hired us to do.

  And then there was Lexi. My best friend, my platonic soul mate, unconscious and hurt and... I couldn’t do anything for her. What if she didn’t wake up? What if we never got to watch crappy movies again, or go on shopping trips where I’d give terrible advice?

  There was Evan too. He was suffering because I’d shown him how I’d changed, and then demanded he keep it a secret.

&
nbsp; Who the fuck was I? I didn’t want to be this person, the one who kept secrets from the people he loved the most, the one who hurt his friends with his idiocy. But I didn’t know how to stop. And if I told the truth...

  What then?

  “I thought I heard the door,” Hudson said from behind me. “Did you dig up anything on Silvia Samuels?”

  The person who’d pawned the brooch. The person I hadn’t thought of once in the past two days because, hello, more important things to worry about.

  “No,” I snapped.

  “Look, Wes, I know you’re worried about Lexi, but maybe you could use a distraction, huh? Research would be a good—”

  “Yeah, I’m worried about Lexi,” I snarled, spinning to face him. He wore only a towel and water dripped through his chest hair, but that wasn’t enough to mute my temper. “Worried enough about her and about Evan that I can’t fucking sleep.”

  “Evan’s having a rough patch. He’ll be okay.” He approached me cautiously, like one might approach a wounded wild animal. “Did something happen?”

  Did something happen.

  Did something happen.

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. My body was undecided too, because I barked out a laugh that quickly morphed into a sob, and I covered my mouth.

  “Oh shit.” In an instant, Hudson was in front of me, drawing me into his arms and holding me tight against his broad, barrel chest. Never been more thankful for vampire speed. “Is Lexi—”

  “No change,” I managed.

  “Good. I mean—not good, but...you know.”

  I nodded against his chest. His bristly hair rasped along my skin, damp and fresh-smelling. I fit so perfectly against him, it was like he was molded for me.

  “What else?”

  I sniffed. “There was an imp at the hospital. And I met Iskander’s homophobic brother-in-law.” Who maybe wasn’t all that homophobic anymore, thanks to me, but I didn’t share that. I gave him all the other details, though, from the warm cocoon of his arms. Leaving his embrace, even pushing back to look up at him, wasn’t an option.

  “Shit, sweetheart. You had a rough day.”

  It was so sincere, but such an understatement, that I chuckled. I mean, it wasn’t funny? But it sort of was. And I guessed that was a great illustration of my mental space at the moment.

  “Night,” I corrected with a sniff.

  “Whatever.” One of Hudson’s big hands cupped the back of my head, stroking my short hair. “What do you need?”

  That was an easy answer. “You.”

  His crooked grin made an appearance. “That’s a given. Let’s go to bed.”

  I let him tug me down the hall to his—our—bedroom, and didn’t protest when he gently removed all my clothing. He kept his touches practical, but soothing and plentiful. When we’d first been together, Hudson had learned to read my body as easily as the front page of the newspaper, and he’d rediscovered that talent over the past few months. He’d learned that there were times I just didn’t feel like a sexual being. Sometimes I did.

  Honestly, I didn’t know what I felt right now.

  I loved his touch, especially when he guided me to lie down, pulled off his towel, and stretched out beside me. When I shivered, he pulled up the sheet and comforter and scooted closer. He gave off enough heat to warm me, especially with the blanket. His rough, calloused fingers trailed over my skin, tracing the lines of my body—shoulder, arm, hip, chest, thigh, groin. There was a tingle there with that last, enough to make me let out a noise like a purr.

  He leaned over and pressed tiny kisses to my jaw, my neck, and my collarbone. I lifted my head to give him access, half wanting the sharp sting of a bite, and half not. His wonderful hand coaxed my chubby into something more substantial, but I wasn’t completely hard, and his kisses started down my chest with a clear destination for his talented mouth.

  It was easy for him to fit my entire dick in his mouth, since it wasn’t even close to full-mast, and the attention felt good. Warm, loving, gentle. But even though my cock slowly gained momentum—a purely physical reaction—my brain wasn’t on the sex train this morning.

  I tapped his head and he looked up, those golden-brown eyes guileless and perfect. “Feels good,” I said. “But...can we just cuddle?”

  He pulled off and planted a kiss to my mostly soft dick—which, swear to god, warmed me as much as anything else he’d done. It was a gesture of unconditional love, of acceptance, and I hadn’t known how much I’d needed that until he’d done it. More than sex, more than a blow job.

  “Whatever you need.” He crawled back up the bed and assumed the big spoon position, and I sighed as soon as his arms settled around me and pulled me tight. One of his legs wrapped around mine, the coarse hair teasing my smoother skin. His dick was a hard ridge against my butt, but it was just there—not needed right now, but still a reassuring indication that even if my sexuality could sometimes be complex and not the easiest to navigate, Hudson desired me, anyway.

  I let myself bask in his love for I don’t know how long, but my brain wouldn’t quiet down enough to let me sleep. “What happens if she doesn’t wake up?” I whispered.

  “That won’t happen.” His voice was firm and full of conviction.

  “But what if?”

  “Then I hold you up for as long as you need me to.”

  “What if...what if she wakes up and she’s different?”

  Hudson kissed my ear. “That’s always a possibility with brain injuries.”

  “I don’t want her to be different.”

  “I know. But if she is, you’re going to love the new her as hard as you loved the person she was. That’s who you are.”

  “What if she doesn’t remember me?”

  “Then we’ll write up a screenplay about it and make millions.”

  “Hud!”

  “You’re right—a novel might be better.”

  Despite the topic, despite myself, I laughed. “If she were here right now, she’d be coming up with titles.”

  “And they’d be terrible.”

  My grin was wide, despite the moisture gathering in my eyes. “I miss her.”

  He squeezed me hard, hard enough that breathing was an issue for a moment. I loved it. “She’ll be okay, Wes. She’ll be okay.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Here it is.” Kee placed the cardboard box containing the not-lamp on their desk, the bell sleeves of their purple dress fluttering around it, and perched on the edge closest to me.

  Coming back out to Aurora House on my own had been a test of will, but I’d had to do it—not just for me, to prove to myself that I couldn’t be scared off, but because Caballero Investigations had been hired to do a job, and we were going to do it, damn it. Iskander couldn’t accompany me since he was on another case. I could have waited until Hudson and Evan were awake, but this was a simple visit to pick up the not-lamp and give Kee an update. I could handle it on my own.

  I resisted the urge to open the top flaps to look inside. “Thanks for not giving it to the cops.”

  Kee shrugged. “I trust you guys to know what you’re doing.” Their voice softened. “How is she?”

  “The surgery went well. Now we’re just waiting for her to wake up.”

  They rubbed my shoulder. “And you? How are you doing?”

  “Okay. Not great, but okay.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Have you had any more, uh...disturbances?”

  They gave my shoulder one last pat and straightened. “No. It’s been quiet.” They cast a glance at the box. “Do you think—was this thing causing it?”

  “I don’t know. It was doing something, but I don’t know what.”

  “It’s a beacon.”

  I whipped my head around at the new voice to find one of the ghosts I’d seen
before, the big burly guy, standing behind me. He wore coveralls over a cream-colored shirt that might have been white once, but years of wear and washing had given it a tint of yellow. His hair was a medium brown and touched the tops of his shoulders in a riotous, uncontrolled mass of waves. His beard had a more reddish tinge to it, and it was just as unkempt as his hair. He had white skin, and his cheeks and nose were red, as though permanently sunburned. If his hair and beard had been white, he could have made a very convincing Santa Claus.

  “It’s a what?”

  “Wes?” Kee asked tentatively.

  I held up a hand to quiet them. “Ghost,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Holy shit.”

  “A beacon.” The ghost inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling. “It was calling folks through.”

  “Through...you mean from the beyond?”

  “The beyond, heaven, hell, whatever you want to call it. That thing—” he nodded at the box “—is the devil’s own work, I guarantee it. I seen so many come through and then just...go.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know how to stop it.”

  “You were going to ask me for help. When I first saw you.”

  “But I made you run, didn’t I? Scared some of the kids too, before. I’m sorry ’bout that, but I was tryin’ so hard to get somebody’s attention...” He sighed. “That’s why Charlie talked to you the next time.”

  My heart tripped a beat. “Where is Charlie?”

  He shook his head. “Gone. She resisted hard, but...”

  “Oh god.”

  He huffed out a humorless chuckle. “God ain’t got nothing to do with what’s happening here. This is my home—peaceful and quiet, even with all these kids around now.”

  My eyes widened. “You mean that, don’t you? This was—is—your place.”

  He grunted. “Built it with my own two hands, didn’t I?”

  Over my shoulder, I said to Kee, “What’s the name of the original owner of the farm?”

  “Uh—shit, it was...” They snapped their fingers. “Malcolm MacKinnon.”