Psychic Series Boxset: Books 1-3

by Lisa Freed

  “Absolutely,” I said, handing the napkin to him. Our thumbs came within an inch of touching when the bit of paper was yanked from my hand.

  After using the napkin to clean up the rest of his face he sopped up the droplets on the table. “Sorry about that,” he muttered, balling the soaked napkin into a limp ball and tucking it out of sight in his closed fist which he rested on his lap under the table.

  Those bright black eyes rose to meet mine. “I’m not using the hat as a disguise.”

  “Fair enough,” I said while wondering how I could continue to stuff my face and have a conversation at the same time. I grabbed a single fry and ate that while waiting to see where this conversation was going.

  It’s a common misconception that psychics know all and see all. I certainly don’t. I get feelings and vibrations; some objects have a long memory and broadcast that to anyone willing to hear about it. And the spirit spotting, ugh! That I could definitely do without, especially considering my current situation.

  Hmmm…Okay, no strike that. Having a super late lunch slash early dinner at a charming, though smelly, restaurant in Greece on a gorgeous September day with an attractive man. Not too shabby. And all thanks to the misadventures caused by a spirit. My life was definitely interesting, had to admit that.

  “Seriously, I knew you saw me at the airport, or rather sensed me. I did the same.” Mateo’s dark eyes continued to stare into mine refusing to release them. “I came here hoping to have a proper meeting, Teresa.”

  Now that got my attention. I dropped the tomato I had been trying to slide out of the gyro without the entire thing falling apart and reassessed Mateo. Up until that moment I had been having fun, he had seemed nice, very non-threatening. But after using my name, deliberately letting me know he knew who I was without me offering that information he no longer seemed so innocent. I was a foreigner in a country I didn’t know and like a fool, my can of mace was still safely and carefully packed away in my suitcase back in the hotel room. I normally carried a can in my purse but that was a big no-no on the plane and it wasn’t allowed in my carry-on bag either.

  “Hey, I’m not a bad guy, promise,” Mateo said as if reading my mind. Then unbelievably he gave me a wink. “I’m not reading your mind either.”

  My mouth literally fell open. Good thing I had swallowed just a moment ago. “Who are you?” I whispered when I felt comfortable speaking again.

  He placed both his long-fingered hands on the small white table, leaning forward slightly. “I’m like you. A mentalist.”

  “You’re a psychic?” Reaching out for my water I noticed my hand trembled. Maybe now was a good time for a beer.

  “If that’s the term you prefer, then yes, I’m a psychic. The minute I laid eyes on you I knew you were too. I don’t often come across many of us and you have the loveliest lavender aura.”

  Why could everyone else see auras but me?! Despite the circumstances, I pouted. I had never once seen an aura. My abilities tended to run toward more spirits and pallor tricks, psychometry aka knowing things about a person by handling a belonging of theirs being the main one.

  “You cannot see auras?” he correctly guessed from my expression.

  “No,” I said a tad more sourly than perhaps necessary. Then I gave myself a mental shake, stop being jealous and get excited. This was my first direct meeting with someone like me, even if our abilities were different. “Sorry, Mateo, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Teresa, as you already know,” I quipped, holding out my hand after a hasty wipe on the napkin.

  His eyes traveled from my face to my outstretched hand then returned to my face. “Regretfully no, I prefer not to do handshakes. I’d offer to buy you a meal but you beat me to it.” He grinned, his whole face relaxed and charming, and any lingering doubts I had about him being dangerous faded.

  “Maybe another time then?” I slid in and immediately cringed.

  “Breakfast tomorrow.” He stated, then pointed to my gyro. “Please eat, I didn’t want to interrupt your meal, but I had to talk with you.”

  “Why?” I asked before digging into my gyro again.

  “Because I can help you.”

  “Help me?” I paused with the gyro mid-way to my mouth.

  “You’re not here on vacation, you are searching for someone. Let me help you.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how he knew that but duh, he was a psychic and obviously a much more powerful one than me.

  “Not more powerful, we just have different talents,” he said before he hastened to add, “Some of it truly isn’t mind reading it just reading people and the facial cues and knowing thought processes. Educated guesses.”

  I took a bite of my gyro and chewed it and the information he just gave me over. After swallowing and taking a healthy gulp of my water, my mind was made up. “Okay, just don’t start finishing my sentences because it will really creep me out.”

  “Deal. Now, what brings you to Greece, Teresa?”

  After finishing another bite of my wrap, I began. “You’re right. I’m not here on vacation and I am searching for someone. Two somebodies actually. My ex-boyfriend Lance and a spirit named Victor who hitched a ride to Greece via Lance’s body.” I eyed Mateo, waiting for his reaction.

  “Victor inhabited Lance’s body?” His dark eyes moved over me and began traveling around the others occupying the tables near us.

  I must admit I was mildly disappointed in how casually he took the news.

  “Yes, it’s something new he discovered he could do…”

  Mateo cut me off, “You talk about him like he’s your friend.” His thin lips quirked up at that.

  “He kinda is,” I said softly.

  “Unusual, I don’t deal with spirits. Refuse to, too much trouble and annoyance.”

  “You could say that again,” I muttered while grabbing my almost empty water bottle for a final drink.

  “You are bothered by them? Block them, that’s what I do.”

  “You can do that?! That would be a wonderful ability. Teach me?”

  At that, he did smile, his upper teeth resting on his lower lip for a moment before he bit it. “I can do that, but let’s worry about the more pressing issue of a spirit able to hijack living people. Why is he here and how can we find him?”

  “The first part is fairly simple. Victor actually told me that he wanted a body like his old one.”

  “He’s from here? Greece? What part?”

  “That I don’t know.”

  “Our country might seem small compared with the United States but it’s pretty diverse, several islands that can only be reached by plane or boat.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said, feeling the stirrings of defeat start to weigh me down.

  “This is why I was drawn to you, I know it, to help you. We got this, Teresa.” Mateo said before getting to his feet. “This had to be a long two days for you, go back to your hotel and get some rest. I’m sure jet lag will be hitting you hard. Let’s meet tomorrow for breakfast and we’ll put our heads together and come up with some answers.”

  Mateo’s gaze held mine, the doubts lifted and I suddenly felt much calmer. It was nice for a change having someone offering to help me. Normally everyone looked to me for assistance.

  Standing, I gathered up my trash placing it back on the tray. “Mateo, I can’t thank you enough. It means so much just having someone to talk with about all this.”

  “I know exactly how you feel,” he said taking the tray from me. “I’ll be by your hotel around nine tomorrow. Have a good night, Teresa.”

  “You too, and thank you again.”

  We smiled one last time at each other and parted ways, each going in the opposite direction though I snuck glances back at his broad back before he was swallowed up in the crowd.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When I entered my room, things seemed off. I couldn’t place what exactly though. My bags were where I had left them, I had my purse with me and had nothing tru
ly valuable in my suitcase or carry-on, everything could be replaced if needed. But nothing was missing. Things were jumbled around, either from my hurried packing, the international flight and searching at the airport or even from that crazy taxi ride.

  Raising my nose, I took a sniff, detected no unusual odors and shrugged my weary shoulders. Perhaps Mateo was correct and jet lag had started to hit, making me paranoid. Still, I got down on the floor and checked under the bed. Good thing nobody was there because I don’t know what I would have done other than scream if someone had been hiding under it.

  Digging my lime green toiletry bag out of my suitcase, I took it to the bathroom where I got my next culture shock. There was no bathtub. I had noticed the shower earlier but the lack of the tub hadn’t fully registered then. Dang brain fog.

  The shower was a decorated silver and white tray, for lack of a better word, on the floor with the detachable nozzle attached to the wall. The shower curtain was thin, gauzy white and see-through. There was also no vanity as the sink attached directly to the wall and had little room for anything other than a bar of soap and possibly a cup on the space next to the lever-type faucet. Guess everything would stay in my bag. I took it back out and placed it on the little breakfast table in the room.

  My shoes went flying as I kicked them off before jumping onto the bed. On the tiny nightstand to the left of the bed lay a slim black remote which I swiped. Rapidly flicking through the channels and wiggling my butt to get comfortable, I finally ended up plopping down on my side with two pillows behind my shoulder and head.

  Which is exactly where I found myself the next morning when I groggily resurfaced from a dreamless sleep. The TV remained on though, the channel changed when I rolled on the remote when stretching. My cell phone never left my purse last night, and I panicked thinking it might be dead. Thankfully, I had charged it on the plane and it still had some life left. I dug the charging cable out of my carry-on, popping on the international adapter I had picked up at Walmart on my way to the airport. Funny the things you remember to do, like buy the adapter, but then forget to inform the hotel of your delayed check-in. Oh well, it all worked out.

  Then I happened to take note of the time as I was plugging my phone in, eight forty-eight. Shoot! Desperately I tried to remember what time Mateo said he would be by the hotel. Was it nine or ten? Shoot! Shoot! Shoot!

  My clothes hit the floor as I raced to the bathroom shedding them as I went. A nice little travel-sized bar of soap awaited me in the bathroom on the sink, the flimsy wrapping I tore off while turning the water on. I got in, not even bothering to pull the curtain around me. The water was icy so the soap took some effort to lather up. I cleaned the important bits and felt my legs, somewhat scratchy but I didn’t have time to shave. Plus, my razor was in my tote bag on the table in the other room. Blah! I didn’t take the time to shampoo as it was coming back to me that nine was the agreed upon time.

  After what had to be the shortest shower I have ever taken in my life, I wrapped a thin, white towel around myself then another around my wet, tangled hair. A puddle of water formed under my feet, I had forgotten to put the little floor mat down, it still hung on the towel rack. I tossed it down and dragged it around with my right foot hoping to soak up the worse of the water. It squished when I stepped on it, the water ice cold now.

  Sadly, the room had hardwood floors so I left wet footprints all over as I dug through first my suitcase then my vanity tote tossing needed items onto the bed. Toweling my body off briskly, I dropped the saturated towel and scooted that around where I had walked. Then I got dressed in panties, bra, and a pair of tan capris. My shirt would wait. I pulled the towel off my hair, grabbed my brush and a hairband and was about to head back into the bathroom when I recalled how wet and nasty the floor was.

  Back into my suitcase I went, retrieving a pair of black rubber flip-flops. Then I went to survey how ratty my hair was. Looking into the mirror, I tried to convince myself it was fine and that skipping the shampoo due to time constraints had been the right way to go. I couldn’t do it. I looked a hot mess. Actually no, worse. My hair looked like one of the cat’s hairballs.

  And I didn’t pack any detangling spray! And I missed my cats! I’m not one to get all emotional but I felt some tears moistening my eyes. At least all my eye makeup had long since worn off.

  Nope, not all, a few black smudges ringed under my eyes. I scrubbed at them with a bit of wet toilet paper before tackling my hair. A few more tears erupted as the brush hit on several nasty snarls. I tried not to wince at the large clumps of hair clinging wetly to the brush’s bristles when I finished. Pulling my hair back into a high messy ponytail I gave my reflection a half-grimace then went back out to put my shirt on and get my toothbrush and toothpaste.

  I grabbed my phone and did a quick smear of lipstick on my way out the door. According to my phone, I had a minute to spare. In the elevator on the way down it struck me that I hadn’t told Mateo which hotel I was staying at. Could he really be that powerful? Without being aware of it, I chewed on my lower lip, dragging some of my freshly applied lipstick onto my teeth. Only when my tongue rubbed at a spot on my front teeth did I realize what I had done.

  I was still scrubbing at my teeth with my index finger when the elevator doors opened. A group of businessmen stared at me with mixed looks on their faces before they entered the small space. The five of them stared straight ahead, giving me a wide berth. I did one last swipe since their backs were turned while trying not to feel completely mortified.

  We all exited at the ground floor, none of the men sparing me a single glance as they trooped out and went in the direction of the front desk. Other than a young girl behind the desk this morning, I saw nobody else around. Maybe Mateo had said ten. I debated between waiting down in the lobby area or heading back up to my room when Mateo’s tall form uncoiled from one of the orange, low-slung chairs off to the left of the desk, partially concealed by a huge potted plant.

  As he came toward me, I’ll admit my stomach did a flip. His hair, uncovered and raked over to the side, shone brightly in the bright sunlight that streamed in through the bank of windows. He wore a bright teal polo shirt, khaki shorts, and brown leather sandals. Mateo radiated good health and happiness, a smile curving up his lips.

  “Teresa, good morning! You slept well?” He asked.

  His greeting drew the attention of the businessmen that stood at the desk and I noticed several of them glancing at Mateo then over at me. The youngest of the group smirked and leaned toward the man next to him. His words didn’t carry but their resulting laughter did.

  Mateo looked over his shoulder at them, and their laughter died as they looked down at the pamphlets in their hands.

  “Yes, I did sleep well, thank you,” I said, hoping that he knew I appreciated him handling the snickering businessmen.

  “This hotel has a fabulous breakfast, let’s dig in.” He said, heading past the men still hovering around the desk and toward an open room that I hadn’t noticed before. A large buffet table laden with gleaming chafers, platters of fruits and croissants, and large pitchers of juice and pots of steaming coffee grabbed my attention upon walking through the arched doorway. The room had several tables with white tablecloths scattered throughout. Only two were occupied so Mateo and I had our pick.

  He led the way to a table on the far end of the room against the wall. Without sitting down, he gestured to the buffet with an extended arm. “Shall we?”

  “Absolutely, I’m starving,” I admitted and then proceeded to fill my plate with a cheese omelet, two chocolate croissants, and a pile of red grapes. After placing it at our table I went back to get a glass of orange juice.

  Mateo sat waiting at the table when I returned, his own plate almost as full as mine, though he had opted for a mug of dark, fragrant coffee as his drink of choice. After I sat down and took a bite he started eating as well. Dabbing at his mouth often with the napkin between bites, we were half-way done with our meal when he spo
ke.

  “Tell me more about Victor?”

  I sighed, sipped some of my orange juice, played with the napkin in my lap then when I finally opened my mouth to answer Mateo spoke again.

  “You two are close, very close for a spirit and a person.”

  “But I also happen to be a psychic who does see ghosts and interact with them. Honestly, this trip has been the most ghost-free few days I’ve had in a quite a while.” I smiled before saying lightly, “I could get used to this.”

  “Oh, they’re around, just not hanging about airports and hotels, at least not this one. Though we haven’t been on the roof garden, I hear the view is breathtaking, I could see a romantic sort being up there.”

  “Maybe I’ll avoid it then,” I said stubbornly.

  “Come on now, stop being shy, why are you and Victor so close? You’ve followed him around the world.”

  I almost thought it but caught myself, I didn’t need him reading my mind and finding out. It was a tad embarrassing, falling for a ghost.

  One of Mateo’s inky black perfectly groomed brows rose up as he grinned. “You have the hots for him?”

  “Oh!” I squeaked before tossing my balled-up napkin at him. “You have to stop doing that!”

  “Make me,” he challenged before throwing my napkin back.

  I caught it, smoothing it back out before returning it to my lap. “How?”

  “Block me, put up a wall, your mind is very open. Charming, sweet, and open for anyone to pop into.”

  “I don’t normally run into any mind readers,” I snapped. I didn’t like feeling so vulnerable. Why was I even dealing with this?

  “Stop that. Your pout says it all. I’m trying to help you here.”

  My eyes narrowed as I glared at him but he was right. “Okay, so just put up a big stone wall complete with a moat, done.”

  Inside my head, a tapping sound began that grew louder until it sounded like hale beating down during a storm.

  “Knock, knock,” Mateo said, a playful grin turning up the corners of his mouth.