by Adam Johnson
“You’re staring,” Caroline whispered in my ear.
Gallus’ sharp eyes refocused on the place Caroline was standing and then quickly dodged back to me. Had he seen my ghost? Caroline’s giggling stopped suddenly and now we both stared at the man with inquisitive eyes.
“There’s something different about him,” Caroline whispered.
“He’s a dead guy,” George groaned into my other ear.
I tried not to jump, but George had startled me. Angry with his behavior, I clenched my teeth and spoke quietly to the annoying ghost. “Stop threatening him, George. You can’t harm him.” Besides, why would you want to hurt that beautiful face? The words flittered through my psyche without any filter. Embarrassed by my sudden surge in hormones, I thanked the world that this man could not understand my thoughts.
But Angela’s smile continued to grow as though she knew exactly what I was thinking. I gave her a look and pushed my way through George.
“I’m telling you, he’s a dead man.” George continued to complain about my guest.
Stepping closer to Gallus, I had to lift my head quite high in order to speak to him. How tall was he? “Why would my house be unsafe?” I asked, a slight flirtatious tone slipping into the question. Angela made a small noise.
The scowl on Gallus’ face lightened and a hint of a smile glistened underneath. “I’m sure that your house is just fine. I simply need to follow procedure.”
One of the magazines on my coffee table slid to the floor with a slap. We all turned at the sound, but only I could see George standing there with his hands on his hips.
“Are you really going to let that thing in here?” George asked.
I forced a small laugh. “Oh, I must have stacked them too close to the edge. Please, Gallus, check out the safety of my home while I fix this.”
Turning away from my guest, I stomped over to George. “If you don’t want me to send you away permanently, then you need to start behaving yourself.”
“But he’s—”
“I don’t care if he’s a walking corpse who wants to eat my brain later. He is a guest with a paying client. A very well-paying client I might add. So don’t screw this up for me.”
Realizing my voice was probably carrying through the room, I took a deep breath and swallowed my annoyance. I needed George, and he knew it, but I really would knock him out of this realm for a while, even if it would only last a few hours.
The sound of expensive shoes clicking on the floor brought my attention back to the hallway. Gallus stepped aside, and behind him, a small man with crow’s feet and peppered grey hair entered. His timid movements contradicted his powerful position, as I instantly recognized him as a State Representative. In fact, I think I’d voted for him several years ago. With hands twisting and eyes darting around the room, Mr. “Abraham Washington” couldn’t have been more nervous.
When he caught my gaze, he immediately stepped forward and held out his hand. “Thank you so much for seeing me on such short notice, and for clearing your schedule.”
Wrapping my palm around his, I tried to ignore the sweat mixing between our bare skin. “It’s not a problem, Mr. Washington.”
He smiled, and about twenty years of tension fell away from his face. “I’m sure you know that’s an alias by now.” Dropping his grip, and tugged at his sleeves. “But I like the name, none the less.”
“It’s a good name,” I said and received a nod of approval. “Please, come sit and let me know what I can do for you.”
Angela took her cue and left the room while I escorted my guest toward the couch. Gallus followed closely behind and took a seat right next to the politician. Although surprised, I didn’t comment on his position. He wouldn’t be in the way, but I did worry that he’d be a distraction. For me.
“Tell me what I can help you with, Mr. Washington.”
“Please, call me Jerry.” He smiled again, and this time it lit up his face. “I’m sure you know my real name by now.”
I nodded and waited for him to continue. George floated around the back of their couch, eyeing up both guests and paying close attention to Gallus. The man, who looked like a Gladiator trapped in modern clothing, made a slight movement. I wondered if he could sense George’s obnoxious presence.
“I understand that you may be able to contact someone who has….” Jerry looked around the room and began twisting his hands again. “Who has crossed over?”
“Crossed over?” I asked, unable to hide my smile.
“Yes?” Jerry leaned forward, forehead wrinkled in concentration. “That is what you do, right?”
“Yes,” I said, touching his hand in assurance. “That is what I can do. I just haven’t heard that term in a long time.”
Jerry sat back and smiled. “Okay, great. But before we start, I do need to ask you for your discretion. If word ever got out that I consulted with you—”
“All of my clients receive my utmost confidentiality,” I assured him. “No one will ever know that we had this talk today.”
He nodded. “Okay, good. Good.”
Gallus reached over and patted his friend on the shoulder. It was a show of compassion I wouldn’t have expected from the stoic man. “She can help you.”
Jerry looked at Gallus with tears brimming on the edges of his eyes, before finally turning to me. “I lost a good friend a week ago,” he started. “Well, we’d known each other so long, that it felt like we were actually brothers.”
I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. I’d discovered that it was sometimes just best to let the clients tell me what they needed to, regardless if it meant I could contact them easier or not.
“He…he left something behind but forgot to tell me where he stored it,” Jerry continued with a shaky voice. “It’s important. Like really important, and I don’t want the wrong people getting their hands on it.”
“Okay,” I said, intrigued by his vagueness. “What’s his first name?
Jerry looked at Gallus with questioning eyes. The Gladiator moved his head in the smallest of nods. Then he looked at me and smiled.
My stomach flipped in a way I hadn’t felt for several years. Gallus sat back against the couch, seemingly satisfied that he had an effect on me. Unless that was just my imagination…
“William,” Jerry finally answered.
Clearing my throat and focusing again, I asked Jerry, “Did you bring something of his?”
“Uh…no,” he looked at Gallus again. “I didn’t know I had to.”
“It’s okay,” I assured him. “It’s not always necessary.” Hopefully, since William was only a week dead, he hadn’t moved on too far. “George?” I called out to the air around me. I saw George standing with his arms crossed over his light grey prison jump suit, but a part of what I did was put on a show.
“You know I’m standing right here,” he grumbled.
“Can you please help me find William?”
“Are you going to get rid of this dead guy?” he asked, flicking Gallus in the back of the head with his invisible hand. Gallus sat up a little straighter.
“No,” I said, and Jerry’s attention focused on me.
“But his kind isn’t right for you.”
“His kind?” I asked. This time I knew Gallus reacted to that question.
“The walking dead,” George hissed. “You know, the bloodsuckers, nosferatu, vampires?”
“George, Halloween was two months ago. Are you going to help me or not?” Trying to brush off his comments, I maintained a professional face. But inside, my nerves were firing in all directions. Looking at Gallus and his impressive size, I wondered. A vampire? In my living room? I’d never met one before…
“I already have him,” George said, yanking my attention away from the man sitting across from me.
I looked up to see that George had moved to the side of the room, a new ghost now standing next to him. George’s hand was wrapped tightly around the
back of the man’s neck, holding him in place whether the man wanted to be there or not.
“George,” I warned.
“What? He got one look at ol’ Jerry there and tried to bolt.”
I focused on Jerry, whose attention honed in on the empty space by the window. “Is he here,” he asked, voice quivering.
“Yes,” I said.
“Who’s George?” Gallus asked. His eyes too, were honed in on the place George and William were standing. Could vampires see ghosts?
“My helper,” I answered and George huffed.
“Your savior,” he corrected me, ego filling the room.
I’d never understand why the two of us had been drawn together. I often wondered who I’d angered to deserve a spirit guide like George. A generation older than me, George was incarcerated as a teenager and never left prison before his death. He was rude and unpredictable, but yet somehow, we were forced together as a team.
Fate had a twisted mind for sure.
“William, can you understand me?” I spoke to the man, similar in age to Jerry, but much taller and skinnier. He cowered under George’s grasp, the expensive suit hanging on his gaunt frame. Although newly deceased, he seemed to have the blank look spirits pulled from the past typically had. With eyes glazed over, he slowly focused on me.
“Yes,” he said in a deep, throaty voice.
“Jerry would like to know where you placed something important to him.” I looked at Jerry. “What was the object?”
“A contract,” Jerry whispered. His face had paled to a stark white and his pupils had dilated, making him look like he had black, soulless eyes.
“Do you remember where you put the contract?” I asked William, but he didn’t answer. In fact, he snapped his lips shut and squeezed his eyes closed like that would help him escape. He remained obstinate until George slammed him to the ground and stepped on his throat.
“Answer her!”
“George!” I cried out in warning.
“Who’s George?” Jerry asked, voice barely a whisper as he strained his eyes to see the ghosts I was speaking to.
“Answer her, corpse!” George loved to play the bad cop. And the slight grin on his face confirmed that for me.
Gallus shifted close to the edge of the couch, watching intently enough that I suspected he could see everything going on.
“He’s going to kill him,” Caroline said from behind me.
I sighed, stood, and crossed my arms. “He’s already dead,” I responded to Caroline before focusing on George again. “Let him up, George. He can’t talk with your foot on his throat.”
“What’s going on?” Jerry breathed, face paling even more. Gallus patted his friend on the shoulder again but didn’t say a word. Instead, his gaze flickered back and forth between me, George, and Caroline.
George finally released William, lifting him up off the ground by the collar of his thousand-dollar suit. It scared me sometimes how much power George seemed to have over other ghosts. I suspected it was because he was a spirit guide for a medium, but had never confirmed that with anyone. A part of me simply didn’t want to know.
“William, where is the contract?” I asked again.
William stared at his friend sitting on the couch, pausing a long time before moving his lips. “I gave it to someone.”
“Who?” I asked, getting a little annoyed.
William shook his head. “He doesn’t want to know.”
“He does. That’s why he’s here,” I snapped.
Jerry stood, twisting his fingers and looking like he might pass out. “What’s he saying?”
“He doesn’t want to tell you.”
Jerry looked into the empty space where his dead friend stood his ground. “William, please. I have to know.”
William sighed and tried to pull away from George. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I gave it to Ivar.”
“Do you know an Ivar?” I asked Jerry. He instantly dropped his mouth open and sat back down. But it was Gallus’ reaction that had me on edge.
“Ivar Einarsson?” Gallus asked William, looking directly at him. His voice came out in a growl, the gravelly tone sexy and frightening at the same time.
William nodded as George and I shared a confused look.
“Shit,” mumbled Gallus. Then, turning to glare down at his friend, he asked, “What kind of contract is it?”
Jerry hung his head, refusing to answer. But William suddenly became a Chatty Cathy. “It’s for his soul. We both have one. How do you think Jerry got so successful so quickly?” William’s anger filled the room and thickened the air. “He talked me into signing one too and look where that got me.”
Gallus clenched his teeth together and spun on his heel to look back at Jerry. “We need to go.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t—”
“Let’s go.” Gallus waited for Jerry to stand and then ushered him toward the front door as the rest of us watched in stunned silence at the abrupt change in demeanor from the bodyguard.
George gave me a shrug and then disappeared with William in tow. Caroline hustled behind the two men, trying to hear their whispered conversations. But when Gallus stopped and Caroline floated into his back, he turned and glared at her. “Some privacy, please?”
She squeaked with surprise and immediately slipped away. Rushing to my side, Caroline looked like the young teenager she was. “He’s kind of scary,” she breathed. “Hot, but scary.”
“Do you know what just happened?” I asked her, knowing she probably wouldn’t have any information.
“I’m guessing Gallus knows Ivar and it’s not a good thing that he has a contract to Jerry’s soul.”
Rolling my eyes and trying to be patient, I reminded myself that Caroline was young. And she barely left my home so she wouldn’t be privy to all of these names being tossed around. I stood in the middle of my living room, pondering what to do next when Gallus walked back into the space, sans Jerry.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
He was looking directly at me and my heart fluttered with lust and a little bit of fear. “Sure,” I said quietly.
Gallus looked at Caroline, moving closer to us, even as she tried to hide behind me. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I lost my temper.”
Caroline’s eyes widened as she looked at me and then back at Gallus. “You can see me?”
He nodded, jaw grinding together.
“Apology accepted,” she whispered.
Gallus focused on me again. “I have to get that contract for Jerry. But I’m going to need your help.” He leaned sideways a bit to see Caroline. “And yours.”
“What about me?’ George asked, appearing in the small space between me and Gallus.
The vampire sucked in a breath and clenched his fists. “You would probably be helpful, too.”
“Probably?” George snapped.
“Stop it,” I said to my spirit guide. “And move.” I wished I could push him sometimes. “Who is Ivar Einarsson?” I asked Gallus.
The giant man sighed and rubbed his hands over his cropped hair. Both Caroline and I watched the muscles underneath his shirt move back and forth. “He’s a vampire. And old one who works for the demons. And apparently he’s the keeper of soul contracts now,” he grumbled.
“And how are we going to help?” I asked.
Gallus glanced at the two ghosts flanking me right now. “We need to break into his place.”
“Um, no,” I huffed. This was too much.
“Yes!” Caroline said as George nodded his approval.
“No!” I shouted at both of them. “This does not sound like a good idea at all.”
“It sounds fun and exciting,” Caroline cheered. She moved to Gallus’ side and wrapped her ghostly arm through his. “When do we go?”
Gallus stared at me. “We have an opportunity tomorrow night. Jerry was invited to his masquerade ball on Christmas Eve. We
’ll go instead.”
“Nope,” I reiterated.
“And what will we do?” George asked.
“I’ll need your help scouting out the place he’s storing the contracts. Elise and I will…” Gallus looked at me and a quick wave of heat flitted through my core. “We will make an appearance and then join you once you’ve found the contract.”
“I’m still not on board with this,” I said again.
“Too bad,” George chided. “We’re doing this. Even if it means hanging out with a dead guy all night.”
Gallus huffed a laugh. “You’re dead, too.”
“Not like you,” George made a face. “At least I can move around in the daylight.”
“It’s not night yet,” Gallus pointed out.
“Whatever,” George mumbled. “See you tomorrow blood sucker.” With an audible whoosh, George left my home. Hopefully he’d stay away for a few hours so I could have some time to think.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Caroline giggled and then abruptly disappeared.
“Are you always surrounded by them?” Gallus asked once the room had cleared.
I nodded. “Pretty much, yep.”
“Sorry,” he said and I loved the way his voice sounded when he was being sincere.
“It’s my life. I wouldn’t change it.”
He studied me—those intense, dark eyes watching every part of my body. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but for a moment, I totally forgot that he was a vampire and he could kill me in an instant. “I’ll have the driver pick you up at seven tomorrow, okay?”
I could only nod.
“Oh, and I’ll have someone deliver your costume in the morning.”
“Costume?”
He chuckled even though he sounded more annoyed than amused. “Ivar likes reliving his past. He loved the fifteenth century, so that’s the theme this year.”
“Oh,” I said. What had I gotten myself into? “Are you sure we need to do this?” I asked. “I mean, Jerry did sell his own soul. I don’t know why we have to help him out of that.” As soon as the words crossed my lips, I felt bad. But it was Jerry’s fault.