The Spirit Key

by Parker Williams

  “I’ll be honest, this is all speculation. When your mom got sick, how did you feel?”

  His eyes went dark, and I could sense the thing inside him pushing up. “How the hell do you think I felt? What kind of stupid question is—”

  “Tim!”

  His eyes cleared and he drew in a sharp breath. “Sorry. The feelings are still pretty raw.”

  “Right then, what did you feel?”

  He cocked his head. “Pissed, and it’s weird. When she got sick, I got angry a lot. I’d scream at her, and she would stand there, so goddamn placid. She would say, ‘I know this isn’t you,’ then walk away until I calmed down.”

  Have you ever heard of a eureka moment? That exact second where everything just sort of comes together, and you understand things so much better?

  Welcome to mine.

  “Holy shit.”

  “What? ‘Holy shit’ what?”

  “She knew before she died.”

  He looked at me as though I’d struck him. “What do you mean?”

  An idea was forming in my head, and as ludicrous as it sounded to me, it was going to sound weirder to Tim.

  Chapter Twelve

  TIM’S EYES narrowed dangerously. “What the hell do you mean, she knew?”

  In my head, the synapses were firing in every which direction. It was insane, but it made sense in a weird sort of way.

  “Your mother saw ghosts.”

  He pushed my feet off his lap. “That’s crazy.”

  “I know! Hear me out, though. She knew about me, or at least we think she did. She understood what was coming. I think, when she got sick, you were at your lowest point. The ghost latched on to you, and she knew it but couldn’t do anything about it. I think that’s why she was so calm around you. Strong, negative emotions give the thing power.”

  He was right—it was crazy—but all the bits fit together perfectly. Yes, there were still pieces missing from the puzzle, but not nearly as many as there had been.

  “Okay, go through this again for me. But this time, do it slowly and make sense.”

  I jutted my lip out a bit and gave him puppy dog eyes. “But what about my soup?”

  He drew away. “Oh shit! I’m sorry.” He stood up and started for the kitchen.

  “Come back here. I was kidding.”

  He turned around but shook his head. “No, I need to take care of you. It’s…. God, how do I say this and not sound stupid? I feel like it’s my purpose in life to make sure you’re okay. I’m not sure where it’s coming from, but watching you with that girl? I now understand things I didn’t before.”

  “And we’ll work on them, but for now, come here and hold me.”

  There was uncertainty in Tim’s eyes, but he took a few hesitant steps in my direction. As tired and hungry as I was, he needed me more than I needed sleep or food. He sat beside me and curled up, with one leg under the other. He leaned against me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. Tim had always been the strong one in my eyes, but even the strongest of people needed to be held once in a while.

  “Why is this happening to us?”

  “Because there are things we’re involved in that are bigger than the two of us individually. I think that’s why your mom came to me. She needed me to help you so you could help me.”

  He sighed. “Do you really think she was like you?”

  I nuzzled his hair, delighting in the silkiness of it. “I’m thinking maybe she was. My working theory is that the ghost latched on to you at some point when your defenses were down, and your mom knew, but she was sick and didn’t have the strength to do anything about it.”

  “Then why not tell me?”

  I kissed his hair. “Would you have believed her? I mean, when I told you, how’d you react? She probably was using all her strength to keep you calm, because dark emotions gave the ghost more control over you.” I sighed. “I think he’s going to do to you what he did to his other hosts. He’s trying to break you down so he can take over.” I swallowed hard. “He wants to use you to kill more kids.”

  Tim shoved me away and pushed up off the couch. “Fuck that! If my mom was like you and she knew this was in me, why didn’t she do anything about it?”

  The question was valid, but I think I knew the answer. “Do you remember Mrs. Kennedy?”

  He clucked his tongue. “Really? She was my mom’s best friend for my whole life. Where one was, the other couldn’t be far—oh. Oh shit. Do you think the two of them were like us?”

  “Well, I’m not sure they were lovers, but yeah, I think they were lock and key. When Mrs. Kennedy died, your mom lost that part, so she probably couldn’t do much anymore.” And the more I thought about it, the more I was finally starting to understand. “And the ghost inside of you? That’s my fault.”

  He held up a hand. “No, we’re not going through this again.”

  “Listen to me. Do you remember what the lady in the dream said? ‘He protects you from yourself, and you’ll keep him from becoming overwhelmed.’ Maybe that’s why your mom came to me. She told me you needed me. I think she meant if I didn’t come, the ghost would take you over completely. She came to me once she could no longer keep it away.”

  And that set my mind wandering down another path. How much of her energy had she had to use to keep the spirit in Tim at bay because I wasn’t here? If I had never left, would she be alive today?

  “It’s not your fault.”

  I looked up as he took his seat next to me again, putting an arm around me and pulling me to him. It was… nice. “What?”

  “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not your fault. Mom wouldn’t want you blaming yourself, and I don’t either. All the stuff you went through as a kid had to be terrifying and lonely. I think any sane person would have put as much distance between himself and the weirdness as he could.” Tim reached up and ran his fingers through my hair. “And we all know you never had a firm grip on sanity to start with.”

  Before I could protest—not that he was wrong, mind you—he continued.

  “I can see my mom being like you. She was always so strong-willed, and she never let anyone go without if she could help it. I have no doubt she would give everything she could to protect me, even if it was killing her. That’s just how she was.”

  And it was true. When things in my family went to shit, Mrs. Jennesee was there with hugs, a sympathetic ear, and a lot of love. And after Dad left, she became an even more important figure in my life. It was her who taught me that even if I was broken, I was still worthy of being cared about.

  “Want to know a secret?”

  Yeah, I wanted to know. Right now, I just needed him to talk to me. “Sure, lay it on me.”

  He took a deep breath, then blew it out slowly. When he peered up at me, there was an anxiousness I’d never seen before. “I was thirteen when I told Mom I was in love with you. And you want to know what she said?”

  Thirteen? “I don’t know. I’m afraid.”

  He snuggled me closer. “She said that she knew from the way I looked at you. The way you were the only person who could make me smile.” He nipped at my ear. “When you left and I went crying to her, she gathered me up in her arms, the way she always did, and told me that I needed to be patient. That you would come home to me one day, and that if I wanted to be worthy of your love, I needed to make sure I was ready for you.”

  I tried to pull away, but he wasn’t having it.

  “Sit still and listen. I was angry and hurt, yes, but I listened to my mom. Even though the plans I had were changing, I did my best to adapt and tried something new. I admit, I blamed you for a long time, but Mom? Whenever I threw a fit, she reminded me that sometimes when we’re on a journey, our paths might take us in different directions, but that was fine as long as it brought us together at the end. It took me until the day I saw you on the porch to understand that.”

  My cheeks were warm, and I scrubbed at my eyes because someone was cutting onions or dusting or something.
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  “Hey, no, don’t cry.” He leaned back and cupped my chin. “I was an ass, and I chalk that up to hurt feelings. Despite what you may have heard, I’m only human.”

  “So the rumors of you having superpowers was wrong?”

  He chuckled. “Oh no. They were right about that.” He put his lips to my neck and sucked gently.

  “No, stop.”

  He drew back. “You want me to stop?”

  “I want to go into your bedroom, because after you do whatever you’re going to do to me, I’m going to pass out on you.”

  The sexy quirk of his lips morphed into a frown. “I forgot. Let’s get you to bed.”

  Well, goddamn it. “No, I really—and I mean, really—want you to—”

  “No. You’re not distracting me again. I said I would take care of you, and that’s what I intend to do.” He stood up, slid one arm under my legs and the other behind my back, and hoisted me off the couch. “Once I have you in bed, I’m going to cook you food, and then I’ll bring it in so you eat.”

  “But—”

  “And once you’ve eaten, you’ll sleep. If you could see yourself, you’d know that you need it desperately.”

  I sneered at him. “What I need is for you to fuck me. Geez, do you need me to draw you a diagram? Rod A goes into Slot B, and you have to wiggle it a few times until it fits right.”

  Tim grinned. “Baby, once I start wiggling Rod A, it’s going to be a long time before I stop.” He ran a hand over my cheek. “This isn’t going to work. You told me that your helping spirits is nonnegotiable. And I get that now. I do. But when we’re done doing your thing, you’re on my time. That means I make the rules, and you accept them. For me, that’s nonnegotiable.”

  God, he was hot when he ordered me around.

  “Later today, if you’re good and do everything I say, maybe then I’ll give you what you want.”

  I opened my mouth to ask for a guarantee.

  “And before you say anything, Rod A will consider this offer null and void if Slot B gets too flip.”

  Well, that was one surefire way to shut me up.

  He carried me over to the bed and sat me on it, then proceeded to undress me. It was weird how vulnerable this kind of attention made me feel. He moved with slow, deliberate steps, first by slipping my T-shirt up and over my head. He smoothed it out, folded it, then placed it on the nightstand.

  “Lay down.”

  His voice was husky, and it only served to ramp up my desire for him. I knew he was right, though. If he hadn’t carried me to his room, I wouldn’t have made it under my own power. Exhaustion had leached every ounce of strength I had. Hell, even something as simple as trying to move on the bed was an effort in futility.

  “Need help?” He gave me a soft smile and lifted me up to a standing position, then drew the covers down. Once he’d done that, he put me onto the bed, flat on my back. He then proceeded to remove my pants before he covered me up.

  “Get some rest, and I’ll bring you something to eat.” He turned to leave but stopped when I called his name.

  “Could you just lay down with me?”

  “I will after you eat. What I gave you at the diner isn’t going to help rebuild your strength, and you haven’t eaten since we got home. You need protein, and lots of it.”

  “You know what’s pure protein….”

  He grinned. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. Close your eyes, and I’ll be back soon.” He flicked off the light and closed the door as he left the room.

  I waited for the tiredness to pull me under, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept seeing Elizabeth’s face, the bruises, her death…. If I was right and the thing inside Tim was essentially grooming him to kill, how the hell were we supposed to stop it?

  Lost in my thoughts, I flinched when the light came back on. “Already?”

  He chuckled. “It’s been an hour. Did you sleep?”

  I probably should have said yes, but I needed to be honest with him if this thing we had going between us was to work. “No, just thinking.”

  He came over and put a napkin-covered plate, complete with a bowl of steaming soup, down on the nightstand. He reached out and started stroking his hand over my chest. The gentle movement was relaxing.

  “What’s going on in your head?”

  “Trying to figure out how we’re going to make this right.”

  “And by this, are you referring to you and me, or me and… something else?”

  “You and your uninvited guest.”

  “Here, sit up.” He helped me lean against the headboard, then picked up the plate and put it in my lap. “Do you need me to feed you?”

  I snorted, but then his expression told me he was serious. How he could have made me feel any more cherished, I had no clue. “No, I’m good.”

  The soup was delicious, and the grilled cheese sandwich looked amazing. I picked it up and took a bite, and holy crap. “You added tomatoes and bacon!”

  He grinned. “I remember everything about you. Your likes, your dislikes. I think I might know you better than you know yourself. Now stop hedging.”

  I bit into the sandwich and groaned as the salty bit of the bacon and the rich, gooey cheese spread out over my tongue. If nothing else, eating would keep me from having to talk.

  “You’re only delaying the inevitable. You will tell me.”

  A shiver coursed through me. When he used that voice, I would do anything he wanted. It was sultry but had a note of command to it too.

  I swallowed. “How do we stop it? I mean—”

  “I know what you mean, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since we saw Elizabeth. I never want to hurt another person, especially a child. If… if something happens and I lose control, you have to do whatever is needed to stop it from happening. Even if that means you have to stop me permanently.”

  I pushed the plate onto the floor, where it shattered. “What the fuck are you saying? You think that I could possibly kill you?”

  He stood, looking down at the mess I’d made. He was so fucking calm, I wanted to smack him. He didn’t say a word as he went into the hall closet and pulled out a broom and dustpan, came over and cleaned up the big pieces, then used the towel to sop up the liquid. Afterward, he went and emptied the shattered remnants in the trash before coming back and sitting down again.

  “If you didn’t like the sandwich, you could have just said so.”

  “This isn’t fucking funny. We have to figure this out.”

  He put his hand on my chest again. “You’ll do whatever you have to in order to protect someone from the thing inside me.” He sighed. “I never told you, but I’ve felt it for a couple years. At first I thought I was imagining things, but over time, the voice grew louder. It was like a whisper in my head, telling me to do dark, awful things. I thought I was going crazy, because I’d never wanted to hurt anyone. But then I started imagining how it would feel to hurt people, and though the thoughts horrified me, they were still fascinating to me. That’s when the dreams started. They were about me doing disgusting things, and I would wake up in a terror. You can’t let me become that person. I would rather you consider it a mercy and save me from a lifetime of regrets.”

  “If you knew, why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  His cheeks turned a deep scarlet. “I didn’t want to believe it was true. I thought, you know, if I pretended you were wrong, then it wasn’t really happening.” He sighed and pinned me with a sharp stare. “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t change the fact you need to make sure I don’t hurt anyone, by whatever means necessary.”

  My throat closed up, and I couldn’t get any of the words I wanted to say out of my mouth. How could he think I’d possibly be able to end his life?

  “Let me make you some more food.”

  He stood, but I grabbed his wrist. “No, please. Just lay beside me until I fall asleep.”

  “Okay.”

  He stripped off his shirt, went over and switched off the light, then m
oved to the other side of the bed and crawled in next to me. I was about to ask him to hold me when he draped an arm across my chest and snuggled in close.

  “Good night, Scotty.”

  Sleep didn’t come easily, but thanks to his warmth, it finally came.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE BRUSH of whiskers on my neck made me shudder.

  “You feeling better today?”

  “Yeah, a lot.”

  “You slept sixteen hours.”

  I jolted out of bed. “What the hell? Why did you let me sleep so long?”

  He chuckled. “I tried to wake you several times, but you were dead to the world. After the fourth try, I figured you needed the sleep and decided to go do some digging through my mom’s papers.”

  If he found something, that would be awesome. “And?”

  He reached over onto the nightstand and grabbed a worn brown leather notebook, which he handed to me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about touching it, because what if I found something she never wanted anyone else to know?

  “Go ahead and read it. It’s… well, fascinating for lack of a better word.”

  I turned to the first page, and there, emblazoned on the inside cover, was written: To Tim and Scott, for when the time is right.

  My hands shook as I flipped through it. Her handwriting, so neat and elegant, flowed on the page.

  “Read it aloud. I only read the first entry, then decided it would be a better decision to wait on you.”

  I went back to the first page and started reading to Tim.

  October 10, 1994

  Today my son was born into this world. He is a child of serene grace. His brown eyes are filled with a beautiful sense of peace and harmony, just as a lock’s eyes are meant to be. He will grow strong, and when he meets his key, the two of them will bond and carry on the work that generations of our family have been tasked with.

  The sole purpose of the lock and key is to maintain a balance between the mortal realm and the realm of the spirits. Most often, the essence of the deceased passes on without prompting, but many times a spirit will be confused or angry or have something they never finished in their lifetime. These spirits need to be helped along to whatever lies beyond.