Deadly Spirits

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Deadly Spirits Page 10

by Michelle Scott


  “I hit him,” Mike blubbered. “I didn’t mean to. I just got scared.”

  “It’s okay,” Ethan said. His head hurt, but he didn’t think he’d need stitches.

  Denise’s eyes were hard once again. “Leave,” she ordered Christian and Ethan. “You have no business here.”

  Christian looked ready to stay, but Ethan tugged the sleeve of his jacket. “Let’s go.” Not every question had been answered, but at least there was more to go on.

  “I wouldn’t have hurt her. Especially not in front of the kid,” Christian said when they were back in the SUV.

  “I know.” Though, it was a relief to hear it. “I don’t think she killed Sophie,” Ethan said. “At least, not on purpose.”

  “I agree,” Christian said. “If she has any supernatural strength, she’s either hiding it really well, or she doesn’t know she has it.” He opened the console between the two seats, took out a first aid kit, and handed it to Ethan. “How’s the head?”

  “Hard enough to take a hit,” Ethan said. He opened a sterile wipe and pressed it to his injury, doing his best to clean up the blood. Christian shook two pills out of a bottle of acetaminophen and handed them over. Ethan dry-swallowed them and leaned back against the seat. “It is going to hurt for a while, though.”

  Christian eyed the house. “Think she’s our Reaper?”

  “She’s insane,” Ethan said, “but she’s also terrified of something. She wouldn’t confess to killing anyone at the hospital, but she started a rant about someone named Susan Maddox.”

  “Former patient, maybe?”

  “Could be,” Ethan said.

  “Susan Maddox. Interesting,” Christian mumbled. He put on his reading glasses, took out his notebook, and jotted down the name. “Anything else?”

  “There’s a shrine in her garage,” Ethan said, suddenly remembering. “It’s an altar with candles and pictures in gold frames. There had to be over a hundred of them, all arranged on shelves.”

  Christian made another note. “Did you get a picture of it?”

  “I was knocked out before I could,” Ethan admitted. “Guess I’m a pretty piss-poor PI.”

  “Inexperienced,” Christian said.

  Christian shook his head as he started the car. “Seeing that kid of hers really threw me. It certainly makes things a lot more complicated.”

  Ethan’s phone buzzed with a text. It was Tessa. Ethan, where are you?! David’s had a seizure. Come to the hospital.

  Ethan had a terrified feeling that things were about to get even more complicated.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There had been a mistake. There was no way David was getting worse. Ethan wouldn’t allow it. He raced through the hospital as quickly as he could, taking the stairs when the elevator seemed too slow. His heart felt frozen in his chest, like it was too grief-stricken to beat. Hang on, David, he begged. Don’t give up on me yet.

  When he reached David’s room, he skidded to a halt and took a moment to collect himself before stepping inside. As before, David lay in the bed surrounded by monitors and machines. Nothing looked different, yet Ethan sensed that something had shifted. Like his boyfriend had been standing on a crumbling ledge, and that ledge had suddenly collapsed. David felt much further away than he had been only a few hours before.

  Still, grabbing David’s hand gave Ethan a little comfort. “I’m here,” he said. He took his seat by the bed.

  When the nurse came in, she gave him a sad smile as if she already knew the outcome of this tragedy. Later, when the doctor stopped by, there was a brusqueness about him that hadn’t been there before. Each visit convinced Ethan that David was slipping farther away from him. “You can’t leave me,” Ethan whispered to him. “I love you.”

  It was the first time he’d spoken it out loud; although, he’d known it long before. Maybe since the first time they’d met back at the frat house. For sure since the two of them had reunited and saved Tessa from her ghost. David was still skittish about their relationship, but Ethan sensed that, deep inside, David felt as strongly about him as he did about David. They were soulmates. And where would Ethan be if half of his soul died?

  The answer, of course, was nowhere.

  What really killed him was knowing that he could perhaps fix things. If the Angel of Death was speaking the truth, then the antidote to this whole mess was close enough for Ethan to grasp. All he needed to do was collect souls. He’d come so close to getting one when the young woman on the gurney had coded in front of him. It had been right there for the taking. There had to be others, ready and waiting to be plucked. Nothing would be easier.

  Would it?

  Ethan took a moment to gather his resolve before leaving David’s bedside and going into the hall. He nodded at a nurse who walked past. He kept his head down, but eyed the nurses’ station, wondering if anyone would stop him from what he was about to do.

  Acting as if he was merely stretching his legs, Ethan sauntered up the hall. He kept a sharp eye on the doors he passed, doing his best to be surreptitious as he scoped out the patients. Almost all of them were as inert as David. There was no drone of televisions or sound of conversations. Here, everything was more hushed. It was life suspended.

  Feeling ghoulish, he made several, slow laps around the floor, wondering how the hell he was supposed to know if or when someone was expiring. Was there a trick to this? Maybe he was missing obvious clues.

  He paused by the door of an old man who lay still as stone in his bed. Swallowing, Ethan slipped inside. The man’s wrinkled skin and slack jaw made it seem that he was at death’s doorstep, but was he really? David, who was obviously younger, might actually be the one closer to death.

  Then Ethan noticed a faint, yet steady, glow above the man’s chest. It was the same glow he’d noticed before! It had to be the man’s soul. Once he noticed it, Ethan couldn’t tear his eyes away. He stared, mesmerized. How easy it would be to pluck that dim light from where it hovered. One, swift motion would be all it took. Without thinking, Ethan advanced a step.

  “Ethan!”

  Hearing his name broke the trance. Horrified by what he’d nearly done, Ethan scurried from the room to find Cara staring at him.

  “What in God’s name are you doing?” she asked. A worried furrow marked her brow.

  “I was…I mean, I had wanted to…” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to bury the disgust of what he’d almost done.

  “Talk to me,” Cara said.

  Her gentleness broke through his defenses. “I almost killed that man,” he admitted.

  “You what?!” She grabbed his sleeve, dragged him into the nearest public bathroom, and locked the door. “Tell me everything.”

  Admitting to it all was shameful, but liberating as well. The poisonous secret had been polluting his mind. Coming clean was a relief.

  As he told his story, he knew that anyone else would have told him that he was crazy. That he’d been dreaming or was making things up. But not Cara. They’d been friends too long for her to question him. Her eyes went wide, and her fingers immediately went to the cross around her neck. “You saw Death?”

  “It wanted to make a deal with me.” Even though they were in the bathroom, he kept his voice low, praying no one would overhear. “If I gather souls for it, then it will spare David.”

  “Ethan, that’s horrible!”

  Ethan nodded miserably. There was no winning this one. He was stuck between the Devil and the deep, blue sea.

  “Let me see that mark,” Cara said.

  Ethan lifted his shirt and showed her the brand. Seeing it sickened him. “I need to find more souls that are about to expire,” he said, lowering his shirt.

  “You’re not serious!” Cara stared at him, horrified. “You’re not going to do this!”

  “I have to!” Ethan argued. “David is getting worse, not better. I see it in everyone’s eyes. He doesn’t have long to live.”

  Cara was shaking her head. “No way. You can’t do it. I
won’t let you do it!”

  Ethan seethed. “You don’t have a say in this.”

  “I’m not sitting back and letting you kill people! That’s outrageous!” Her eyes blazed.

  How would she have acted if it was someone she loved lying on a hospital bed, surrounded by machines? Surely, she would feel different then. “I wouldn’t kill anyone,” he said firmly. “I would only collect people who are already on the cusp.” Something deep inside of him rolled over uneasily. Was he really considering this?

  “I don’t care what you call it; it’s wrong!” The tiny bathroom was becoming too claustrophobic, as if there wasn’t enough air for Ethan, Cara, and their anger. Ethan put his hand on the door, ready to step out. Cara blocked him. “Ethan, if you’re serious, I can’t let you do it.” Her expression was firm and professional. Nurse Cara was back in charge. “I would have to call security and have you escorted out.”

  Ethan couldn’t believe his ears. “You’d keep me from David?”

  “I’d keep you from making the biggest mistake of your life,” she said. She put her hand on his arm, but he angrily shook it off. “You’re not yourself,” she said. “The real you would never even consider such a terrible thing.”

  “This is the real me,” he said. Though his voice remained quiet, inside he was raging. How dare Cara try to come between him and his boyfriend. “The real me would do anything to save David.”

  “And is that what David would want?” she challenged. “For you to kill people?”

  It was as if she’d slapped him. For a moment, he was too outraged to speak. Then he pushed her aside so that he could get out the door. Once he left the bathroom, Cara was at his heels. “Ethan, please! Don’t make me do this.”

  For a moment, Ethan stood his ground. But when the nurses at the station looked his way, he made an about-face and headed towards the elevators. He’d rather leave of his own volition than be thrown out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christian welcomed him with open arms and a cold beer. “You’ve got that hollow look again,” he said when he took Ethan’s coat. “And you smell. Go take a shower while I make something to eat.”

  Ethan hung his head. He felt like a bum whom Christian was allowing to crash at his apartment. “I don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “I’ll leave some by the door.”

  When Ethan turned towards the bathroom, Christian said, “Take the beer, too. Shower beers are the best way to relax.”

  Ethan was too exhausted and overwrought to argue and took the beer with him. But when he put his hand on the doorknob to enter, Christian jumped in front of him. “Not that room,” he said quickly. He grinned, obviously hiding his embarrassment. “This one,” he said, opening another. Too overwhelmed to be curious, Ethan went through the door.

  It came as no surprise that Christian’s bathroom was as clean and inviting as the rest of the apartment. The tiled shower was huge, and offered a selection of shampoos and shower gels. It seemed that Christian hadn’t had the heart to throw out Sophie’s things yet since Ethan doubted that the honeydew melon scented conditioner was Christian’s. It was touching that Christian had taken such good care of a young woman who was so desperately lost. Apparently the Nordic god liked taking in strays.

  Ethan showered and came out of the bathroom feeling more human. He had to admit that the shower beer had helped, too. The sweatpants and a University of Michigan hoodie that Christian had loaned him were far too big, but they would do for now. Ethan combed his fingers through his hair then went into the other room.

  Christian was in the kitchen area, frying bacon. Ethan’s stomach nearly leapt from his body at the aroma.

  “If I’d known you were coming, I would have made my world-famous mac and cheese,” Christian said. “But you look like you’re going to faint any minute, so I’m opting for BLT’s.”

  “I’m not that fragile,” Ethan grumbled. He had to admit, though, that he was starving. When Christian handed him another beer, he took it.

  “That sweatshirt looks good on you,” Christian said.

  It probably looked pretty good on Christian, too. Ethan might have been in a relationship, but he wasn’t made of stone. Sometimes when they were together, Ethan would find himself checking out Christian’s broad shoulders and tight ass. Embarrassed, he quickly shoved the thoughts aside.

  “I’ve never worn it before,” Christian continued. “Sophie gave it to me as a joke because she knows I root for State.”

  “I’m more of a Notre Dame fan,” Ethan said.

  “There’s the door,” Christian said, pointing with a butter knife.

  Ethan laughed, something he hadn’t thought he could do given the circumstances. Being with Christian was nearly as relaxing as spending time with David or Cara.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Christian kept his eyes on the tomato he was slicing.

  “Sure.”

  Christian still didn’t looked up. “Do you ever see Sophie? Here in my apartment, I mean.” Underneath his casual tone was a hint of tension.

  “I sense her,” Ethan said. He sipped his beer. “She’s here, but she’s not here. Not like the poltergeist, more like a presence.”

  “So she hasn’t crossed over.”

  “Not yet.”

  Christian carefully assembled the sandwiches, precisely layering the lettuce, tomato and bacon. “I wish I could see her,” he said. “I need to apologize.”

  “For what?” Ethan asked, surprised.

  Christian’s shoulders were hunched. “For not keeping her safe. For letting her die.”

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Ethan protested. “The ride broke. It had nothing to do with you.”

  “I should made her stay home that night,” Christian argued. “I knew it was going to be dangerous.”

  “You never could have predicted what happened,” Ethan said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure she’s already forgiven you.”

  Christian finally looked up. “Why do you say that?”

  “She’s here, isn’t she? Looking after you. Wanting you to stay safe.”

  Christian quirked an eyebrow. “You know all of that?”

  “I can feel it,” Ethan said firmly. He knew the difference between benevolent spirits and malicious ones. Sophie was firmly among the well meaning ones.

  They ate in the living room area, sitting side-by-side on the couch while a basketball game played on the immense TV. Ethan wondered if Christian had found out more about Denise, but he was too exhausted to ask questions. They could wait until after they’d eaten. Slowly, Ethan relaxed. This was the kind of night he and David might have shared. The moment that thought entered his mind, however, the spell was broken by a terrible stab of pain. So much so, that Ethan set his half-eaten sandwich aside.

  “You’ve got to tell me what’s wrong,” Christian said, muting the TV’s volume. “It’s eating you up. I can tell.”

  Ethan had come to Christian’s looking for a distraction from his pain, not to dive back into it. But Christian was right: he was being eaten alive. He closed his eyes. “I saw Death again,” he finally confessed. “It was there in David’s hospital room.”

  “You saw Death again? Holy shit, man. No wonder you’re upset.”

  Telling the story the second time around was a little easier. Christian listened intently, and without interrupting. Ethan even confessed the argument he’d had with Cara, and the fact that he’d nearly been banished from the hospital.

  When he was finished, he braced himself, ready for Christian to turn on him the way Cara had. To his surprise, however, Christian said, “If I’d been given that offer about Sophie, I don’t know what I would have done. It’s a hell of a situation with no easy answers.”

  Ethan’s heart swelled with relief. “Cara wanted to ban me from the hospital.”

  “Do you blame her?” Christian asked. She’s a nurse. Saving lives is her business.”

  “But she doesn’t want me to save David!” Ethan exploded. />
  “I doubt she’s ever been in your position,” Christian reminded him. “If she had been, who knows what she would have done. It’s easy to judge someone when you’re on the outside looking in.”

  “So you think I should do it?” Ethan asked. “Should I go out hunting for souls?”

  “Hold on,” Christian said. “What I think is that you should carefully consider what you’re about to do.” His steady gaze seemed to probe Ethan’s soul. “Because if I thought for one minute you were about to do something stupid, I’d have to lock you up for your own good.”

  “You can’t stop me from helping David,” Ethan snapped.

  “No, but maybe I can drum some sense into your thick head. Tell me, for example, just where do you plan on getting all of these souls? And how many do you need?”

  Ethan hesitated. “I thought I’d try a cemetery.”

  “Aren’t those souls already dead?” Christian pointed out.

  “Where else am I supposed to go? Maybe I’ll chase an ambulance!” Ethan sank backwards against the couch. Christian was right. Where the hell was he supposed to go?

  The basketball game on the TV had ended, and the station had switched to the news. Footage of a warn-torn area filled the screen. The pictures of the victims were so heart-wrenching that Ethan had to turn away. Was he supposed to visit those bombed-out places and search for the dying? He shuddered at the thought.

  He wondered how David was doing, and prayed that Cara would text him if anything bad happened. He’d damaged their friendship; he knew that for certain. However, Cara wouldn’t be cruel enough to keep news about David from him.

  “Don’t look so glum. We’ll find a way to make it work,” Christian assured him.

  We? It was a strangely intimate thing to say. Not that Ethan minded. He couldn’t bear the thought of being alone.

  “You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Christian said softly. “You take on so much.” He slid closer to Ethan.

  Ethan didn’t register the kiss until Christian’s mouth was on his. It was tender, and despite himself, Ethan responded. It felt so good to let go for once. To let someone else take the lead. He leaned forward, wanting more, but when Christian slid his arm around Ethan’s back, Ethan jumped away.

 

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