When the Dead Speak

by Bailey Bradford

Please, God, if You’re real, let it be Conner! As scared and cold as Sev was, he didn’t think it was safe to jump to conclusions, but he didn’t have any other brilliant ideas. A familiar buzzing sound filled Sev’s head, a voice he’d heard before, and the fear and cold ceased to matter as the urgency coming from the spirit filled Sev. He nodded slowly and closed his eyes.

  “Okay, Conner. Tell me what you need to tell me.” Sev sat back against one of the table legs and let that otherworldly voice speak to him.

  Chapter Four

  Skin tingling, prickling with an awareness he didn’t understand, Laine stood in front of Sev’s hotel door for the second time that day.

  “Just nerves,” Laine tried to assure himself as he shivered. He raised his hand to knock but stopped as a wave of chills swept over him. Laine braced his hand on the door to steady himself and jerked it back with a startled hiss.

  “What the hell?” He touched the door with shaky fingers, then pressed his palm flat. Cold as ice. Laine pressed his other hand against the door and felt fingers of unnatural cold creep over his skin, spreading from his palms up to his forearms. What is going on? Laine made his fingers slide down the door instead of pulling his hands away. He gripped the doorknob with both hands and twisted, shoving hard against the door when Sev’s slurred voice seeped through the steel door.

  The knob didn’t turn, and Laine’s fingers were cramping from the cold. The hot Texas sun was damn near searing his back while his front felt like he’d be suffering from frostbite within minutes. Laine clamped his jaw tight to keep his teeth from chattering and leaned into the door once again, bringing his ear to the chilly surface. Sev’s voice was nearly unintelligible, the words so slurred now Laine was afraid the man was in serious danger of freezing to death.

  “Severo! Open this damned door!” Laine pounded on the door, the impact shooting shards of pain up his cold hand. “Severo! Now!”

  Laine banged on the door again and paused, listening and trying to discern if Severo was conscious. He heard the man’s voice faintly, could make out ‘cold’, and a name that had Laine shoving away from the door, eyes wide with shock. Conner? Conner is doing this?

  “Can’t be you,” Laine whispered. “Conner…you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t have done someone the way whatever…whoever is in there is doing Severo. You weren’t cruel.” In fact, Conner had been one of the kindest people LAine had known. “Why would you be trying to kill Severo?” It didn’t make sense. Not even if Conner was pissed over Laine and Severo being intimate. Conner wouldn’t have begrudged Laine that. He woduln’t have been a jealous fool.

  Laine took a faltering step backwards then turned and ran to the hotel office. He needed a key before something bad happened to Severo.

  “I need the key to room one-fifteen, now!” Laine yelled at the hotel clerk. The poor guy looked shocked but Laine had to give him credit, the man was efficient and level-headed. He had the key in Laine’s hand before Laine drew his next breath. “Call an ambulance and send them over there.”

  The door was still as cold as it had been moments ago. Laine was afraid, but not for himself. He couldn’t think of anything other than the small, sexy man inside. How long? Laine shoved the key in the lock and twisted. How long has he been in this God damned meat locker? He got the door opened and nearly dropped the key. There was…something, Laine couldn’t describe it right now if his life depended on it, but it was in front of Severo—and the room temperature was dangerously, impossibly low. Severo’s eyes had a glazed look to them, his lips an unnatural color that spurred Laine into action.

  “Get the fuck out!” Figuring it was futile, but not knowing what else to do, Laine charged at the form. “What are you doing to him? Get out!” He swung at the figure and felt his breath lock up in his lungs when the shape seemed to shift around. Laine caught a glimpse of something familiar, and as his arm passed through what he guessed would be the head of the spirit, an odd sense of warmth burst over him. The sensation was so startling that he yelled and stumbled back. He’d expected a blast of the icy cold that was emanating from the thing, and to experience the opposite threw him.

  Laine caught himself on the edge of the bed before he tumbled backwards. He stared transfixed at the approaching shape with equal parts hope and fear. A low groan from Severo brought Laine out of his thrall.

  “Conner?” Laine pushed down his embarrassment—he was not hallucinating. He remembered that build, the broad shoulders and the faint outline of thick arms and thighs. “Conner, you need to stop. Can’t you see what you’re doing to him?” Laine swallowed against the thick knot of guilt in his throat and shook his head slowly. “You’re hurting him, baby. You wouldn’t have ever done something like that before…before.”

  The shape hesitated, hovering as if unsure or trying to comprehend Laine’s words.

  “Look at him, Conner. Look.” Laine glanced at Severo, noted his slow breathing. “The man I knew wouldn’t have done that, Conner, and I can’t believe you would—” Praying he was wrong, Laine continued, “I can’t believe you would hurt someone because I had, we had… Jesus! I’m the one who jumped him! Why would you do this?”

  The figure seemed to vibrate, head swinging violently from side to side in an attempt, Laine hoped, to negate his accusations. An eerie moan rose and resonated inside Laine’s head, then stopped so suddenly Laine blinked in surprise. It—Conner—vanished in the split second Laine had blinked his eyes. Laine’s legs gave out and he scrambled across the floor to the too-still man he’d stormed out on hours ago. He’d barely reached Severo and found his pulse when the paramedics came through the door.

  * * * *

  He was dying. Sev knew it, and he was too frightened to open his eyes. The way his body was being rocked with painful spasms, the pricks of fire that shot up from his fingers and toes, and the damned ghosts that were pounding at his brain and trying to make him listen… Yep, he was dying and already spiraling down to Hell—feet first, if the agonizing heat in them was any indication. He’d always been terrified that he’d lose the ability to block out the ghosts when he needed or wanted to, much like when he’d first developed his ability. That had been a terrifying and humiliating point in his adolescence. Now it was happening again and Sev felt like his head was going to burst with the pressure from dozens of supernatural voices screaming for his attention.

  A ghostly voice screeched in his head, the equivalent of nails digging into his temples, and Sev screamed, trying to push himself up, stop his fall. The pain and need to flee from the tormenting voices spurred him to pry his eyes open. Sev slowly comprehended that he was in a hospital. Panic speared through him and he tried to sit up. Big, warm hands pressed him down, and even though his vision was blurry and his senses disoriented, Sev was aware enough to know who was touching him. Laine’s voice was as warm as his hands, and Sev wished he could make out the words the man was uttering.

  If he could just get the damned voices of the dead out of his head… Sev tried to concentrate on pushing the voices out, visualizing a burst of wind carrying them away. He pictured building a wall to block them, gray cinderblocks stacked tightly, keeping his mind safe. The whole thing only took minutes, but Sev hadn’t had to resort to such basic measures for years and doing so now taxed him and left him feeling drained.

  Unsure of how long his cinderblock fortress would hold, Sev looked at Laine and resorted to pleading. “Get me out of here. I can’t be here!” Sev tried to get his arms to move and clumsily grabbed at Laine.

  Laine’s dark eyebrows knitted together and his mouth tipped down. “Severo, you damn near froze to death. I don’t know why…” Laine swallowed audibly, pain dulling his eyes. “Are you sure that was Conner?”

  Sev knew it without a doubt, but he needed away from this place full of misery and death. Hands clinging to the sheriff’s arms, Sev tried to pull himself up, fingers digging in to Laine’s flesh as another shudder racked Sev’s body. “Laine, do you have any idea how many people have died here? How many
voices there are trying to…trying to make me listen? I can’t be here!”

  “Shit.” Laine’s eyes widened with shock. “I didn’t think about that. I haven’t felt anything at all.”

  Sev clenched his jaw and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. “B-because they a-are a-a-ll swarming me! Look, Laine. Really look!”

  In an instant, Laine stiffened and paled. His eyes darted around the room nervously and a startled sound slipped past his lips. “Jesus Christ, how come I didn’t feel them like—like before?”

  “They weren’t trying to get your attention, but they might now that you’ve acknowledged them. Laine, please.” Sev’s eyes were burning with tears he wouldn’t shed. It was bad enough that he was begging. Tears would make his humiliation complete.

  Laine’s hat started to slip from the chair where he’d set it. He pulled away from Sev and grabbed his Stetson, cursing soundly. “Let’s get your clothes.”

  “No, can’t we just go? I don’t care if I moon everybody in this freaking hospital!” Sev was already pushing himself from the bed, hoping his trembling legs would hold him. A nurse rushed in, clucking like a hen, glaring at Sev and then Laine.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Sheriff?” She reached for Sev before he could set his feet on the cold tile floor. “And you, you need to lay back and rest!”

  “Lynn, let him go,” Laine said in a tone that brooked no argument. “He can’t stay here. Got a phobia of hospitals.”

  Sev dropped all pretenses and let the desperation he was feeling show clearly.

  Nurse Lynn wasn’t satisfied. “Well then, I can have Dr. Hunter give him a little something—”

  “No!” Sev twisted away from the nurse and swung his legs over the side. His knees refused to lock and he started forward, trying to bring his arms around to stop his fall. Laine caught him before Sev could tip more than a few inches, holding him steady much as the man had done this morning. That made Sev think of what followed right after, and he didn’t bother to censor the desire he felt as he met Laine’s steady gaze. The need he saw in those cool gray eyes calmed something inside Sev.

  “See? He can’t even stand up, much less walk out of here!” Nurse Lynn shook her finger at Laine. “You need to leave him here!”

  Laine helped Sev to the chair and pushed him down gently before turning to the nurse. “No, you need to get the man a wheelchair before I decide to carry him out of here. You can’t make him stay, so get me a damned wheelchair for him.”

  “Well, I have never—” Nurse Lynn’s face was red, anger bringing an unpleasant flush to her already mottled skin. A voice behind her had Sev snapping his head around.

  “Sheriff Stenley is correct, Lynn. We can’t make the man stay, and he isn’t in any danger, really.” A thin, older woman approached Sev. “Go get the wheelchair like the sheriff asked—and bring me Mr. Robledo’s release forms as well.” Dismissing her, the woman smiled at Sev. “I’m Dr. Hunter. You seem determined to leave.” Her sharp brown eyes studied Sev closely.

  “I can’t stay here. I’m sorry.” What was he apologizing for? Maybe he’d lost a couple of his much needed brain cells.

  Dr. Hunter nodded. “It’s not really necessary. You seem to have come around just fine. Though if you could explain to me how you nearly froze to death in a hotel room…?”

  Sev glanced away from her and tried to think of something believable. Nothing came to mind, and a swell of panic rose. A big hand on his shoulder helped the panic abate.

  “I’m checking into it, Dr. Hunter,” Laine sounded so calm, so sure. “We don’t rightly know how it happened, but the only explanation for it, has to be a freak accident involving the AC unit malfunctioning.”

  Dr. Hunter chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve never heard of an AC getting cold enough to cause hypothermia—and I’ve never stayed in a hotel in Texas with air conditioning that even did a half-decent job of keeping the room cool.”

  Sev spoke up before Laine could, feeling the man’s tension by the way his grip tightened on Sev’s shoulder. “Then how would you explain it, Dr. Hunter? Because I don’t remember touching the AC. All I remember was a bit of a chill entering the room, a sense of disorientation, then being so cold I thought I’d never be warm again.” Pretty much the truth, minus the interacting with the dead guy. No, not just ‘the dead guy’, but Conner, Laine’s former lover.

  “Hmm. It is indeed a puzzle, and please don’t take this wrong, Mr. Robledo, but if the paramedics hadn’t recorded the room temperature, I might have thought you were crazy.”

  Sev couldn’t stop himself from stiffening under Dr. Hunter’s gaze any more than he could stop the fear that threatened to choke him. He’d already been down the thought-you-were-crazy route and was in no hurry to ever repeat it.

  “But, everyone was cold, every thing was cold. Yes, a puzzle that will drive me nuts until something else takes its place.”

  Sev was saved from the doctor’s intense study by Nurse Lynn.

  “Here’s the release forms, and here”—the nurse gave the wheelchair a pat—“is your ride out of here.”

  Lynn took the signed release forms and left. Dr. Hunter smiled and shook her head.

  “Lynn’s usually a much more pleasant person than that. I don’t know what her problem is today.” Dr. Hunter extended a hand to Laine and then to Sev. “It was interesting, that’s for certain, gentlemen. Sheriff, if you find out what happened, would you mind filling me in?”

  Laine nodded once and took the papers the doctor held out to him. “I don’t think we will ever figure it out, one of those freak accidents like I said. Thank you, Dr. Hunter.”

  “Read over those, and if there are any problems, don’t hesitate to bring Mr. Robledo back.” Dr. Hunter turned to leave then stopped at the door and grinned over her shoulder. “Oh, and you might want to consider seeing to it the Mr. Robledo gets a different hotel room.” Chuckling, she left the room.

  “I don’t think she believes the AC story,” Sev mused as he sat forward in the chair to push himself up. Laine was there, strong hands reaching out to lift Sev.

  “Grab your gown.” Laine’s lips were so close to Sev’s ear he could feel the heat coming from the man, the moist breath sending a different type of shiver down Sev’s spine.

  “Afraid you won’t be able to resist me if you see my cute ass, Sheriff?” Sev couldn’t help but tease, even though he knew it was a petty attempt to combat the butterflies he seemed to get in his stomach any time Laine was around. Laine plunked Sev down not ungently in the wheelchair. Bracing his hands on the wheelchair’s arms, Laine moved in until he was almost nose-to-nose with Sev. Laine’s eyes seemed to shift, the color deepening in a way that Sev felt ensnared by.

  “I don’t know if I could, but I’m damned sure I wouldn’t even want to try.”

  Sev felt that trickle of fear, the sure knowledge that this man could consume him, body and soul. He couldn’t think of a single joke or a smart-assed reply to save his life and so he found himself held by Laine’s gaze. There was nothing humorous in the dawning knowledge spearing Sev. Somehow, this man had managed to get to him. Sev finally tipped his head down and studied his own shaking hands.

  “Can we go now?” Sev cringed at the tremulous note in his voice—it sounded like a dead giveaway to him, but hopefully Laine would put it down to exhaustion and sheer terror. Anything, Sev thought, but that I am vulnerable to him. It was easier to think of himself as vulnerable. Not that Sev cared for it, but it was better than admitting that his emotions were already tangled up over this tall, serious man. He reached up to finger his chain, the familiar feel of the links his one source of comfort, and flinched when he only found bare skin.

  “Where’s my—” Sev tugged at the neck of the gown as he looked at Laine. The sheriff reached into his shirt pocket and pulled the silver necklace out before moving behind Sev and fastening it in place. Sev was fingering the chain before the clasp was closed, but it was the stroke of roughened fingertips gli
ding down the back of his neck that had him shivering, breath stuttering.

  “That chain means a lot to you?” Laine’s fingers stroked over Sev’s nape again before slipping under the necklace and rubbing gently.

  “It… uh.” God, I can’t think when he’s doing that! Sev rolled the chain between his finger and thumb, searching for the calm the motion brought him. “It’s just… It was my grandmother’s.” Sev tried to make himself shut up, but his nerves were jangling, which set his mouth to running. “She was the only person who believed me when, as a child, I tried to explain that I could hear the dead speak. If she hadn’t been able to convince my parents not to follow the psychiatrist’s suggestion, I would have spent my teenage years, at the very least, in a psychiatric facility. Fortunately, Grandma was intimidating, and the fact that she held the purse strings didn’t hurt, either.” God, he just couldn’t shut the hell up. “She was good to me, believed me about all this.” Sev gestured with his other hand, finger twirling circles in the air.

  “Was she the only one?”

  Sev didn’t want to go there, but he didn’t want to argue, either—and he wanted to get out of the hospital. “Of the adults, yeah, but she was enough, she really was. My brothers and sisters don’t treat me like a freak.” Mostly.

  A grunt was the only reply he got, along with a last, lingering brush of fingers against his skin. Those touches had chased away the residual chill from his body, though he still felt somewhat shaky.

  Laine grabbed the bag with Sev’s clothes in it. He put on his Stetson and tossed the bag to Sev. “We’re out of here, Severo.”

  “Sev.” He turned and winked at Laine. “I mean, all things considered, I think you can call me Sev, huh?”

  Laine’s laugh was a barely audible huff. “Sure, Sev.”

  * * * *

  The more distance Laine put between them and the hospital, the more Sev seemed to relax. By the time they were on the outskirts of McKinton, he was sleeping, his head tipped down and thick, dark lashes resting on his cheek. Laine had bitten his cheek in the hospital to keep from asking Sev about his childhood. There’d been a reluctance in the man’s countenance, despite his nervous ramblings, that had intrigued Laine. That intrigue had been quickly quashed—there was no reason for him to delve into Sev’s history, was there?