George cocked his head. “The Romani have a saying about family, ‘Hamaara kaaravaan hamaara parivaar hai, aur duniya hamaara parivaar hai.’ It roughly translates to ‘Our caravan is our family, and the world is our family.’ I’m proud to be a member of your caravan, Scott and Timbo.”
Tim groaned. “Again with the Timbo. Can’t you just call me Tim?”
He scowled. “Your mother gifted you with a perfectly good name. In the language of our people, your name means ‘crown.’ One who is meant not necessarily to rule, but to guide with love and wisdom. That is what your key needs from you. Surely you wouldn’t reject it.”
Tim glanced over at me, a wicked smile on his face. “To guide with love and wisdom. Yeah, I think I can live with that.”
The smoldering look in his eyes made me tremble.
George sighed and rolled his eyes. “Back to the matter at hand. How do we remove the spirit from Timbo and keep it from entering another?”
I reached out for Tim, enjoying the connection between us. “That, my friend, is a question many who came before us never answered. Maybe there isn’t a way. I don’t know. If he’s been around as long as Sofia says, maybe he’s too powerful for us to beat.”
“Bullshit!” Tim stood, nearly knocking me to the floor, and glared down at me. “If he’s that strong, why does he seem to be afraid of you? And why didn’t he kill you the first time he showed up? No, there’s a way to beat him—we just have to find it.”
George cleared his throat. “Maybe Timbo is right. If you think about it, he could have killed us both without breaking a sweat. He had us, and I admit that. What was to stop him from just finishing the job?” He turned to Tim. “Were you aware of what was happening?”
Tim’s mouth thinned out into a harsh line. “Yes.”
“And what was on your mind at the time?”
“How much I didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially Scotty.”
“I believe you held him back and prevented him from killing us. He taunted us as we left, saying he could do it, but then why not? It couldn’t simply be that he chose not to.”
Tim scratched his cheek, then reached out and touched my eye where the bruises were dark and painful-looking. He traced his finger over my face, drawing in a breath when he saw the chipped teeth. His hand continued to drift, coming to rest on my arm.
“I can feel him inside me now. It’s like he’s inside a prison and banging on the bars, demanding to get out. In my mind I can see what he wants, and it terrifies me. It used to be children he showed me, but now it’s Scott dying at my hands. I think he knows that Scott can hurt him or force him out or… something.” Tim turned pleading eyes on George. “Please tell me I’m right.”
“Your mother never said anything about him to me. There were a few times she and Beth would come in, looking ragged, and we’d have to sit down and meditate to help them recenter themselves. Sometimes those became marathons, because the two of them were whipped. When I asked what happened, they were always tight-lipped and just said whatever they were doing hadn’t gone well.” George got up and poured us a bit more tea, then took his seat again. “The fact that you can feel him inside you concerns me. He’s strong and seeking to get out again.”
Tim drew in a breath. “A smart man would say kill me, but I’m not strong enough to give up now.” He squeezed my hand again. “I found out that my life is going to be shorter than I expected it to be, and at some point, Scotty and I are going to lose each other for a while. I fully expect to live every damned moment with him until that time comes. I will not let this thing inside me win.”
The conviction in Tim’s voice had my heart swelling with pride. And then, like a bolt from above, I knew the answer.
“He’s afraid because you love me.”
George’s brow wrinkled. “I’m sorry, what?”
“It makes sense! With the exception of Sofia and Vano, the other people who filled the roles of lock and key were friends, maybe the best of, but they didn’t have a bond of love. Whoever that thing is inside you, he’s terrified because he wants total control, but as long as I’m alive, he can’t have your whole being to himself.”
George pulled a face. “That seems like a stretch.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Tim walked behind me and kneaded my shoulders. “My love for Scotty is what dragged him under. When Scotty called to me, I heard him and fought my way back. I could feel the spirit’s anger as it was forced down again, and his hatred of Scott intensified.”
“And it’s Tim’s love and need to care for me that it’s trying to break. When I was gone—no, when I ran away—Tim was filled with hurt and anger. When you take into consideration that he was also losing his mother, he became receptive to the spirit, which fed off the dark emotions. But deep down, buried beneath the layers of resentment, was still a bit of love.”
“No, there was a lot of love.” Tim leaned down and kissed my neck. “I never stopped loving you.”
I was about to stand when he chuckled.
“He’s wailing. Making demands of me. I know Sofia said I can’t contain him, but right now it seems like he wants out and can’t get free.”
That set me wondering. “What if leaving isn’t as easy as we thought? Maybe the host has to die in order for him to escape.” In my head, thoughts flashed at the speed of light. Somehow, my mind saw so many possibilities about the spirit, but then it screeched to a halt as I realized the truth. “He takes disenfranchised people. The homeless, probably, because no one will miss them. They’re desperate, hurting, and he’s willing to exploit that. He gets into a body, starts whispering dark thoughts to them, and then, when he’s broken their wills, he pushes them down into the pit he resided in, and they’re lost there forever. Then he starts remaking them, turning them into someone respectable, someone kids won’t be afraid of. Once he’s done that, he picks up where he left off, taking them in and killing them. If the police catch them, being locked away until the host dies is no big deal. Even Sofia said so. Hundreds of years is nothing more than the blink of an eye for a spirit.”
George arched his eyebrows. “Where did you come up with this?”
“I’m not sure. It was…. Um.”
“Like a story played out in your head?”
I nodded.
“Did you know that Rebecca told me when she interacted with spirits, she got to see fragments of their lives?”
“So do I. Mine are more fragments of their deaths, though. In the case of this spirit, I can see what the victims see and the face of those who killed them. And recently, I’ve seen a lot of kids with bruises on their throats.”
“They need you to make it right.” George drew in a breath. “They’re being drawn to you, wanting you to set them free.”
I swallowed hard. “All those kids. How the hell long has he been doing this?”
Tim narrowed his gaze as though staring at something in the distance. “He’s trying to break my will. He’s showing me so many vile things. He’s not hiding anymore. I can see everything. He’s been doing this for centuries. He’s been murdering children since….” He gasped. “Oh my God. He’s been here since the Pilgrims. He had to flee England because the authorities were getting close to capturing him for what he did there. When he got to America, he started off with Native American children, figuring no one would miss them. When the crimes he committed were uncovered, he was hanged but his spirit wouldn’t rest. He took over his first body, a young man who was sleeping on the streets. I can see it. He had no problems with destroying the boy’s mind. In fact, he reveled in it. I can hear him pleading, thinking he was possessed by witches. Then he started doing dark, unspeakable things, and within a year, he’d given up. The spirit took control, allowing the boy to retain just enough of his mind to know his body was responsible for all the heinous acts. Eventually, unable to cope, his mind died.”
George leaned forward. “What was the ghost’s name?”
“Gideon. It was Gideon Allerton.”
&n
bsp; I put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Let it go now, Tim.”
Tears streamed down Tim’s face, and he grabbed my hand. “He killed so many. Ruined lives. He’s a goddamn monster and needs to be destroyed. And that’s what’s inside of me.”
“We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”
“I know, and I believe it, because I believe in you.”
My only hope now was that I could deliver on my word.
“We should get going.”
Tim helped me up, and I finally got a good look at him. Exhaustion clung to him like a cloak. He had dark bags under his eyes, and when I suggested we go home so he could get some rest, he said there was no way he could sleep after what he’d seen. Too many bodies, too many kids whose lives were snuffed out by someone who didn’t die at the end of a hangman’s noose like he should have. I called us a cab to get home, because I didn’t want him driving and I ached all over.
We snuggled together in the back of the cab. Tim slid an arm around my shoulder and gently cradled me to him. It felt good, being close like this.
“Why don’t you close your eyes?”
I did as he said, and it wasn’t long before I was dozing.
When we got back to the house, he woke me up. We leaned on each other as we went inside and straight to the bedroom. He should have gotten in bed right away, but he stripped off my clothes and got me under the covers first.
Seeing him so tired and hurt made my chest ache. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Tim brushed my hair from my eyes. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
“Bringing you into this, I guess.”
“Didn’t you hear? I was born into this role. No, we were.”
“But what if you weren’t? I mean, you could have a normal life and not any of this stuff.”
He leaned down and brushed a kiss over my lips. “Maybe, but you know what I wouldn’t have? You. Do you want to know how many nights I lay in bed, saying I would do anything if you were mine? Mom told me I needed to be patient, that things would come in their own time, but I didn’t understand that. While I would be happy not to have spooks and ghosties in our lives, I think the two of us having a purpose is what’s going to make life worth living.”
He undressed, then crawled into bed. Reaching over, he turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness. Then he took my hand and entwined our fingers.
“Do you want to know why I’m okay with us doing this now, when before I was so against it? Something that Sofia said clicked for me. She said we were going to have eternity together, and even though I don’t think that’s long enough, it’s a pretty damn good start.” He was quiet for a moment. “I know that Gideon said I hated you and how I wished you’d never come back. I’m not going to lie, because there was a time I said that to Mom. Wanna know what she told me?”
I admit, I was afraid, but I trusted him. “Sure.”
“She said, ‘You don’t mean that, and you know it. You’re lashing out because you’re hurt, and I understand that. But remember what’s in your heart, how much you care for him. Because one day he’s going to come back to you and then you’ll regret having said this.’ And I swore to myself I wouldn’t. I did my best to harden my heart against you, but when I would go to sleep at night, you were the only thing I dreamed about. So it’s true that I said it, but I don’t know that I ever meant it. Not really.”
I squeezed his fingers in mine. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I’m your lock. Destined to protect you. Gideon showed the ugly that was in my heart.”
“You were a scared kid whose best friend ran away because he wasn’t able to face up to what was happening to him and was too chicken to tell you about it.”
He sighed. “So we both screwed up.”
“Pretty much. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d remind you who’s in charge here.” He yawned. “Always remember one thing, Scotty. No matter what anyone says, no matter what happens, I will always love you.” His voice got softer. “And not just because we were destined for each other. You aren’t perfect, but you’re just right for me.”
And then he started to snore.
I lay there, holding his hand, and realized how grateful I was that Tim was in my life again. Things made sense, finally. And I swore I would never take it—or him—for granted.
Not again.
WHEN WE woke up, we decided to lay there for a while and just take time to be with each other. Tim rolled on his side and curled up around me, his arm over my stomach, making me feel like I was wrapped in a cocoon.
“How are you feeling?”
I couldn’t lie. My ribs were throbbing, my arm tingled, and I had a headache that wouldn’t quit. “Hurts like hell. And don’t say you’re sorry, because you didn’t do it. Gideon did. And believe me, this is the least of the things he’s got to pay for.”
Without saying anything, Tim got up and grabbed me some painkillers and a glass of orange juice. “Take these.”
“But they’ll make me tired.” I jutted out my lip. “I can’t afford to sleep now.”
He stood there, implacable. “Take them, or I’ll cram them down your throat. Don’t fight me on this.”
I huffed a breath and reached for the pills. I noticed they weren’t my prescription and gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I was afraid I’d sleep the day away otherwise.”
“I’m going to take a shower, then make breakfast. Do you think you want to shower too?”
“I could shower with you. Saves water, you understand.”
He grinned. “Yeah, no. If I got in the shower and saw your naked body, I don’t think we’d get out before the water got cold.”
I ran a finger over his chest. “And that’s a problem?”
He wouldn’t take me up on it, and I knew that. My body was beat to shit, and his responsibility was to take care of me. So any thoughts of sex were off the table until I was healed. Didn’t mean I couldn’t dream.
“Go shower. I need to get you fed. I’ll take mine after.”
I huffed a frustrated breath. “Fine.”
Before I could turn away, he reached out and took hold of my arm and pulled me close. “I’m never going to be able to make up for what happened. I know you said it wasn’t my fault, but I saw my hands wrapped around the kid’s throats, then beating on you. I saw my feet kicking you. It was me strangling George.” His eyes glistened. “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am for all of it.”
I reached out and touched his cheek. “Does that mean I get to top?”
He snorted. “Yeah, that’s not likely to happen.” His gaze softened. “But if it would make things better between us—”
“Stop that shit!”
Tim reared back.
“A fuck isn’t going to make me feel better. Wanna know what is? Your arms, wrapped around me at night. Your hands touching all the spots that Gideon hurt. Your lips kissing all the bruises I got because of Gideon.” I pulled away. “I’m going to go shower, and by the time I get out, you’d better have your fucking head out of your ass.”
He didn’t say anything as I stomped off toward the bathroom, and for once I was grateful. I wrapped my arm before I got into the shower, and when I started the pulsating spray, it made my skin tingle. I leaned against the wall, the tile still cool, and sighed. All the things I thought I knew were no longer true. The one constant—the only one—was that I knew deep to my soul Tim loved me. Was it possible for Gideon to destroy that love?
The words echoed in my head. Dark emotions gave him power, but they also drew him out of Tim’s body once before. He touched me.
A plan started forming in my head, but there were so many things that could go wrong. I ran the risk of destroying Tim’s trust in me and losing him in the process.
Oh, and I also ran the risk of dying again, and I felt pretty certain I wouldn’t be coming back.
Chapter Twenty-One
TIM STOOD at the sink, washing up from breakfast. He hadn’t said much to me beyond asking me how the food was, then went straight to cleaning up after.
He sighed and turned around. “Scotty, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
He flinched, and I felt like an absolute shit. The fact that I’d committed to this plan didn’t mean it was going to be easy for me. Still, if we were going to have a chance, I had to follow through.
“I’m sorry. I’ll go into the other room and give you some space.”
“Who’s running away now, Timbo?”
He wiped his hands on the towel, then set it on the side of the sink. “What do you want from me? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
I pushed up and stormed away from the table. “I want you to quit being such a fucking namby-pamby whiner. ‘Oh, poor me. I have a ghost inside, and he’s making me do bad things.’”
“Scott, that’s not—”
“Bullshit it’s not fair. You know, if I had known that you were such a pathetic loser, I would have told your mother I wasn’t coming, because there’s not really much worth saving, is there?”
His face went red, but it wasn’t enough. For what I wanted, he had to be mad enough to kill. And the fact that I would be the target of his ire….
Ugh. Whose shitty idea was this?
His fists clenched at his side. “Don’t talk about my mother.”
“You mean the bitch who let both of us suffer for years? Let me think I was going fucking crazy? You said she loved me like her own son, and seeing how she treated you, I can believe that.”
The muscles in his neck corded, and his lips curled back into a snarl. He moved to leave the kitchen, but I stepped in front of him.
“What’s the matter? Truth hurts?”
“Get out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yeah, because you didn’t do that already, right?” I opened my mouth and pointed at the chipped teeth. “Bet you’re not gonna wanna shove your dick in my mouth now, are you? That could be hazardous to you.”
The Spirit Key Page 21