Song for the Dead: An Ada Palomino Novel

by Karina Halle

  Once back in the hotel room though, I hear the shower running, the bathroom door closed. He’s up.

  I have a few sips of his coffee, noticing he’s not even touched the coffee pods in the room, then sit on the edge of the bed waiting for him to get out.

  When he does, I am totally unprepared.

  He walks out in just a towel. A small towel, barely held together at the waist. He gives me a look of mild surprise, then looks at the coffee I’m holding.

  “That for me?” he asks.

  “Uh huh,” I squeak, and he plucks the coffee from my hand.

  “Thanks. Gonna need several of these I’m afraid.” He raises the paper cup to his mouth and downs the whole thing in one go, despite the coffee being pretty fucking hot. My eyes are torn between that and the fact that so much of him is naked and right in front of my face.

  I get to my feet, because being eye-level with his barely covered crotch is a dangerous place to be.

  “You done ogling me?” he asks, tossing the paper cup over his shoulder where it miraculously lands in the wastebasket.

  I blink, unsure what to do with him this morning. He seems to be firing on all cylinders.

  “I’m not ogling you,” I tell him. “I’m just…thinking you could use some self-tanner.”

  And that’s a lie. Not the self-tanner thing, his skin is pretty pale, but I am definitely ogling him. I’d never seen Max with his shirt off before, and even though I’ve definitely touched every inch of his upper body in one way or another during training—so I figured I knew how strong and built and muscled he was—seeing him like this is something entirely different.

  “Self-tanner, huh?” he says, running his hand over his jaw, then looking down at his body. “You think?”

  I shake my head, still marveling at him. The six-pack abs that are hard enough to grate cheese on, the sharp V of his hips, the kind of chest and shoulders that Chris Hemsworth has to suffer for. “No,” I say absently. “Actually, you’re fine the way you are.”

  “Good to know.”

  “I don’t know how Rose could pass this up,” I find myself saying.

  He grunts. “How about we don’t bring her up today? I’ve already got a hangover.”

  “Sorry,” I say, meeting his eyes. “It was a compliment.”

  “Is this nice Ada or extra-nice Ada?” he muses.

  “It’s just me,” I say. Then against my better judgement I reach out and run my fingers over his chest, down his abs, his skin warm and still wet from the shower. “I don’t get it.”

  He clears his throat. “What?”

  I walk around him, running my fingers over his back, feeling the energy flow from my skin to his. I know this is doing him some good. That’s why I’m doing this.

  “How you could be in this same body for centuries and not have a scratch on you.”

  “I heal fast,” he says, voice thick.

  “Apparently so,” I tell him, coming back around to face him. “Not even a scar.”

  “I carry my scars on the inside,” he says gruffly.

  Then he reaches down and grabs the hem of his towel, adjusting it, and a flush of heat goes through me. Is this…am I turning him on?

  I bring my eyes to his.

  He looks uncomfortable, his brows knitted together. “Would you do me a favor and get me another coffee?” he says, clearing his throat again, his voice husky. “Gonna need one for the road.”

  I nod quickly. “Sure.”

  Then I whirl around and head out of the room. The minute the door closes behind me I lean back against it and exhale loudly.

  Okay, so despite always feeling super comfortable around Max, especially in a physical sense, I guess there’s a line in which he starts to feel uncomfortable, and I’m pretty sure I just crossed that line. I mean, I was totally innocent in my touchy-feely fingers, I didn’t think I would have any sort of effect on him. Certainly didn’t think I’d give the man an erection, which I’m pretty sure he was trying to hide.

  Then again, I am a woman and he’s a man and maybe any dude would get turned on in that situation. I feel so out of practice when it comes to the opposite sex.

  Either way, I make it a point to behave going forward. We have a really good thing going, and I don’t want anything to ruin our easy-breezy relationship.

  Then again, I’m not sure how easy-breezy it really is when my mere presence is what’s keeping him in this world. How the fuck are we ever going to come to terms with the implications of that?

  You need more coffee, I remind myself. Stew on that heavy shit later.

  So I go and get two more cups of coffee from the breakfast room, snagging a couple of sucky-looking apples from the buffet for later, pretending that I’m going to only have healthy snacks today, then I head back to the room to see Max standing in the doorway fully dressed, dark jeans, leather jacket, green flannel, holding our suitcases in his hand, my purse on his shoulder.

  “Need anything else from the room?” he asks, looking like a pack mule.

  I shake my head and hold up the coffees. “Got everything I need right here.”

  We head over to the Super B and Max piles everything in the trunk, pausing by the windshield to groan in frustration again.

  “We can get it fixed,” I tell him.

  He mumbles something in response and unlocks the door.

  “You okay to drive?” I ask. “I got you home in one piece last night.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  We both get in, and I hand him his coffee. He takes a moment to drink it down like it’s cold water on a hot day.

  “Max,” I comment, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, “you know that’s weird, right? There’s a reason they put warning labels on those lids.”

  “What, like it’s hot?” he says, a surprisingly pitch perfect impression of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde.

  “You are full of surprises this morning,” I tell him as he starts the engine, the car purring to life.

  “Just trying to keep you on your toes, Blondie,” he says, before slamming the car into reverse. We go screaming backward through the parking lot before he shoves it into drive and we peel it out of the driveway and onto the highway.

  He laughs and I have to laugh too. My god, this car is fun. We’re fun.

  “Next stop, California,” I yelp, rolling down the window enough to get that ocean breeze in my hair, closing my eyes to the sun as Max turns up the music, Ozzy’s “Crazy Train” playing on cue.

  We leave Oregon in the dust.

  Nine

  “I drift along the ocean, dead lifeboats in the sun. And come undone.”

  – No One Knows

  “Well, this place is a shithole,” I say, staring out the window at the stiff-jawed junkies twitching past vacant office buildings, the grey sky above seeming to suck the color right out of Eureka, California.

  “Always has been,” Max comments, eyeing the streets as we drive past. “Only good thing to come out of this place is Mr. Bungle. Unfortunately, we have to stop for gas.”

  “You’ve been here before?” I ask.

  He nods. “Long time ago. Didn’t stay long then either.”

  Now if there were going to be demons anywhere, this would seem like the place. Thank god we’re just stopping for gas and not staying the night.

  Today has been a long-ass drive and we’re not done yet. Highway 101 took us into California and off the coast through the redwoods before it popped us back on the shore. We’ve got another long stretch after this through more national parks and tall trees until we hit Mendocino, which is a place I always wanted to visit, and I managed to convince Max to let us book a room in the super cute Mendocino Hotel instead of a roadside one.

  We pull into a gas station and Max gets out to fill up just as my phone starts to ring.

  I pull it out of my purse. It’s Perry.

  “Shit,” I swear. I have no reason to think this, but I can already tell this won’t be good.

&nb
sp; “Hey,” I answer, trying to sound innocent and upbeat.

  “Where the hell are you?” she practically barks.

  “At home, why?” Lies, lies, lies.

  “I’m at home, Ada,” she says. “As in, your house. I’m in the kitchen with Dex right now, Dad’s in the other room.”

  Well, fuck. “Why are you home? Aren’t you in Hawaii?”

  “We were in Hawaii, but our plane got diverted to Portland. We decided to come here, and Dad was going to drive us up. He says you’re with Max going to New Orleans?” Her voice goes so high at the end I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

  “Tell her she’s in danger,” I hear Dex speak up.

  “Danger? What the fuck is your husband talking about?”

  “He’s just being paranoid about Max.”

  “He’s fine,” I say, feeling defensive. “I’m fine. It’s all good.”

  “Well, you can’t blame us for being a little overprotective here.”

  “And I said I’m good. We’re having a good time.”

  “I bet you are,” she mutters.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means don’t do anything stupid,” she says.

  “Oh. Stupid. Like sleep with him? Like you did?” I didn’t want to bring that up, but it needs to be said because that’s what she’s thinking.

  “Hey! That doesn’t count.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t count? Sex doesn’t work like that.”

  “I was possessed. I wasn’t myself. It wasn’t me who slept with him.”

  “Perry, why are you talking about that?” I hear Dex say, knowing they’re going to have a nice little fight after this. I smile to myself. Good.

  “Sure, Perry, you keep telling yourself that. Meanwhile, I’m helping my friend here with something important.”

  She clears her throat. “Yeah. Dad told me. You have to get some important documents in New Orleans. Ada, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but why is Dad totally fine with this? It’s like he was happy to see you go off with him and miss school!”

  I feel a pang of guilt, but I’m not about to tell her the truth. There’s no doubt she’d then tell our dad about the Jedi mind tricks and I’d be in big shit. “I don’t know, but he is. He trusts me. Maybe you should too.”

  “You’re already sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

  “Oh my god, I’m going to hang up on you if you don’t stop with this. Give me some credit here.”

  “I’m just looking out for you, Ada. You’re vulnerable right now. You’re in a bad place.”

  “I was in a bad place. I’m in a better place now. And Max needs me.”

  “Oh, I bet he does.”

  “No, I mean it. Talk to Jacob about it if you don’t believe me, but he really does. If I wasn’t with him, he’d disappear.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s almost a ghost, Perry. We didn’t know what we were doing when we pulled him out, that there would be consequences. I used my energy to get him out of the Veil, to bring him back to life, and it’s only my energy that’s keeping him here, alive. If we’re apart, he turns into a ghost. He…fades away.”

  Silence. Finally I hear Dex say, “What, what is it?”

  “That’s fucked up, Ada,” she says in a small voice.

  “But it’s true. And you know it’s true. You can feel it.”

  “Jesus,” she swears. “What the hell are you going to do?”

  “I’m doing it,” I remind her. “Hence why I’m going with him to New Orleans.”

  “Dad didn’t mention that part.”

  “And do you think I’d mention that to him? Good lord, he can only take so much. This is a lot for everyone to handle.”

  “Poor Max,” she says softly.

  “Oh, now he’s poor Max?” Dex says.

  Perry ignores him. “So you’re stuck with him.”

  “I was stuck with him anyway since he was teaching me.”

  “There has to be a way to fix this. Have you tried? Does Max have any ideas? You can’t be, like, bound to him forever.”

  “He doesn’t know. I suppose we’ll just figure it out.”

  “This is heavy shit, Ada.”

  “I know it is. I’ve been trying not to think about it. He’s been trying not to think about it too. It’s…a lot.”

  Outside the car, Max exits the gas station store with a bag full of stuff, which I’m hoping is junk food since the apples suck. “Listen, I better go. He was just paying for gas.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Eureka, California.”

  “Oh god, that shithole? Why?”

  I laugh. “Just passing through. Look, I’ll text you later, okay? I promise everything is fine.”

  “Okay…”

  I tell her goodbye and hang up just as Max slides into the front seat. “Bought us provisions,” he says and then eyes the phone. “Who was that? Your father?”

  “Perry,” I tell him with a sigh, taking the bag and putting it at my feet.

  “What did your sister have to say?” he asks, starting the car. “Guessing from your energy it didn’t go all that well.”

  “She’s worried about me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thinks I’m a little too vulnerable at the moment.”

  He gives me a thoughtful look before he pulls back onto the highway. “Well, you are.” He pauses. “So am I.”

  I open the bag between my legs, rifling through the stuff. There’s a bottle of Dr. Pepper, some bottles of water, some chocolate bars and Red Vines, a bag of BBQ chips. So much wonderful junk food. The Big Ginger and I are definitely on the same level.

  I open the bag of chips while Max says, “Next time, let me talk to her. I’ll let her know you’re in good hands.”

  “The problem is that they’re your hands,” I tell him, popping a chip in my mouth.

  “Figures.” He gives me the once over, a wry tilt to his mouth. “Did you tell your sister that you were the one getting handsy with me this morning?”

  I nearly choke on the chip. I smack him across the arm. “I was not getting handsy.”

  He flinches. “Well, there I was, fresh out of the shower, half-naked and vulnerable as a lamb, and you were the one who kept on touching me. Hate to think what you’d say if the situation was reversed.”

  “Whatever, you can touch me anytime.”

  And the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  Max bursts out laughing. “If this is your idea of trying to lure me with extra-nice Ada, I’m not falling for it. I reckon you’d have my head on a pike within seconds.”

  “I’m not luring you.”

  “Good, because you suck at it.”

  I shake my head, laughing. “You, my friend, have been hanging out with me for too long.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” he says.

  We drive for a bit, Max flipping through the local radio stations, me finishing the bag of chips and looking at my Instagram until we lose reception, heading into Humboldt Redwoods State Park.

  Then my mind begins to tumble a bit, going down a dark rabbit hole of the past and the future and what everything means.

  “Were you ever in love with her?” I ask, breaking through the comfortable silence with something decidedly uncomfortable.

  His eyes go round. “With who?” He glances at me, forehead creased. “With your sister? The hell, Ada. No.” He shakes his head. “No.”

  “You did care about her.”

  “And I still do. Where are you going with this?”

  “You didn’t love her, but you slept with her.”

  “Sweetheart, please stop clutching your pearls.”

  “I’m not clutching anything, I just want to understand why you did that to her.”

  His jaw goes tight, brow lowered. “I’ve discussed this with her. And with Dex. It’s in the past. My only excuse is I thought I was doing the right thing at the time.”

&n
bsp; “Took one for the team?” He shoots me a furtive look. “You used her, Max.”

  “I never said I was proud of it.”

  I mull that over, staring out the window. Seconds pass by, the car chugging along.

  Max clears his throat. “Listen. Sometimes in life we do things that are wrong in order to make some things right. And sometimes those things fall apart and all you’re left with is everything that’s wrong.”

  I crack open the bottle of Dr. Pepper, the sound of bubbles filling the silence of the car. I take a sip, feeling the sugar rush through me. “I used to think you were a villain, you know.”

  “Oh yeah?” he says, glancing at me, brow raised. “And now what do you think? Still the villain?”

  I give my head a tiny shake. “No. You’re just a man.”

  “Well, good,” he says after a moment, bringing his attention back to the road. “That’s really all I want to be. There’s something to be said for being a simple person living a simple life.”

  “You really think either of us are simple people living simple lives?”

  He shakes his dead. “No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I can’t aspire to it. Think of all the towns we’ve driven past so far. Tiny little places in the middle of nowhere. Think about the people who live behind all those front doors. All these lives that don’t have to deal with a fraction of what we deal with.”

  “If you think those people’s lives are easy, you’ve got another thing coming,” I tell Max. “You’ve been around for how long and that’s the impression you get from humanity? That living is easy?”

  “No, darlin’, living is hard, it’s dying that’s easy. I finally know that better than anyone.” He pauses, kneading the steering wheel with his palm. “Doesn’t stop me from dreaming though.”

  “And so, what does your dream look like? Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re not going to go ghost if I’m not around.”

  “Do you have to not be around?” he says, smiling faintly, eyes pinning me in place. “Would make the dream much better if you were there.”