Table of Contents
Blurb
Sneak Peek
Dedication
Welcome to Requiem Inc.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
About the Author | By Kris T. Bethke
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Coming in October 2018
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Copyright
Somebody to Die For
By Kris T. Bethke
A Requiem Inc. Story
Dying is easy. New love is terrifying.
Avery Wagner quit ghostwalking when he lost his beloved anchor to cancer. Now teaching others who have the ability, he’s beginning to live again, but he’s not looking for another lover—not now, maybe not ever.
But then he meets Jameson… younger, talented, dedicated, almost perfect, even though his mouth sometimes opens ahead of his brain. And Jameson wants Avery desperately, but he’ll settle for friendship if he can’t have more.
When an emergency demands they work together in the field, Avery discovers just how perfect Jameson is. But he had a perfect love once before, and he’s scared to even consider that he might have a chance at another. Can he trust Jameson with his newly healing heart?
Johnson grabbed the sword and gently and steadily pulled it free. The moment it was clear, Jameson pressed hard on the wound to stanch the bleeding. As he leaned over Avery’s still form, he caught a whiff of Avery’s scent—something woodsy, underlined with citrus, and totally Avery. God, he smelled good, but Jameson pushed the thought aside.
When Avery finally drew a breath, Jameson glanced at the clock on the wall to make note of the time. Then he focused on Avery’s face. It was completely blank, and Jameson’s heart jumped into his throat. Avery didn’t move, and he barely even blinked. He just stared at Jameson with absolutely no expression.
Jameson started to get nervous. Avery should be crying or something, shouldn’t he? Maybe he was far too practiced for that. Maybe he was used to the emotional upheaval, and he didn’t need to cry. But there should be some kind of reaction, shouldn’t there?
“Avery? You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
Avery’s dry lips opened, and then he forced out one raspy word. “Luke?”
And then Avery’s eyes focused on Jameson’s face. Recognition dawned, and that was when Avery started to cry—huge, fat tears that rolled down his temples and into his hair.
Jameson’s heart cracked wide open. He turned Avery onto his side, facing away, and tried to think of something soothing to say. But all he could manage was a litany of “I’ve got you, you’re okay,” in his most reassuring tone. But he was dying inside.
For M. Her thoughtful insights shaped this book, these characters, and this series.
WELCOME to Requiem Inc. – Guiding departed souls since 1915
We believe every soul deserves the peace of a restful afterlife. But not everyone who passes on can cross with ease. It’s our mission and passion to assist those stranded souls.
Here at Requiem Inc., we employ a wide range of individuals best suited to the task. Our ghostwalkers are expertly and comprehensively trained to travel on the spirit plane and assist those souls. Our anchors are painstakingly matched with each ghostwalker to keep them grounded and provide aftercare when ghostwalkers return to their bodies. These teams report to Guardians, whose genes provide the telepathic abilities that allow them to connect with and care for ghostwalker/anchor pairs. And our mediums act as a conduit between the planes, to find and assess each case while they also assist ghostwalkers in the field.
By working together our teams provide peace for stranded souls and for those they left behind.
Chapter One
AVERY mentally reviewed his checklist as he searched through his suitcase, even though he was certain he had packed everything he needed. With a heavy sigh, he zipped the large case shut and lifted it to the floor. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t want to do this.
That wasn’t entirely true. Avery didn’t mind giving lectures for Requiem Inc. whenever they asked. As long as he didn’t have to actively ghostwalk, he was fine talking about it. Dying and coming back to life had become nearly impossible since he lost his anchor—his bonded. Four years had passed since Luke died, and Avery still felt the loss. Perhaps not as keenly as he once did, but it was still an aching, painful hole in his chest.
The doorbell rang, and Avery stood and shook off his thoughts with the action. He pulled up on the handle on his large suitcase and wheeled it down the hall and into the entranceway. It joined a garment bag and his messenger bag, waiting to be packed into the car.
“Hi, Mr. Wagner,” Logan said brightly as Avery pulled open the door. The kid lived next door, and he was one of the good ones. He was smart, conscientious, and responsible, and Avery had no worry about leaving his house to the teen’s care while he was gone.
“Come on in.” Avery stepped back so Logan could enter, and he watched for a moment as Logan took in his surroundings. The place hadn’t changed since Luke died, because Avery couldn’t bring himself to do it. Avery needed his home to stay the same.
He crossed to the edge of the kitchen and picked up a set of house keys he’d left on the counter. When he turned back, Logan was watching him, so he tossed the keys, and Logan caught them easily and grinned.
“Those are yours. The big one unlocks the deadbolt. The smaller is for the handle.” Avery waited until Logan nodded and pocketed the keys. Then he continued. “Toss the mail in the basket there on the sideboard, if you would. I’ll go through it when I get back.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Wagner.”
Avery motioned for Logan to follow. Then he pushed open the french doors that led off the corner of the living room and onto the sunporch. It was his favorite place in the house—his sanctuary. He’d chosen each piece of furniture with care and filled it with all manner of plants. Dieffenbachia stood in tall pots on the floor, pothos and spider plants hung in baskets at every window. He had a ficus in the corner, and a paradise palm by the door. Avery took a breath of the warm, humid air, and turned to Logan.
“They’ll need to be watered every day.” He opened the cupboard, showed Logan the supplies, and made quick mention of how to mix the plant food. “Preferably in the evening, after the sun starts setting. That way the heat and sun won’t dry up the water before the plants have a chance to absorb it.”
Logan took out his phone and made a note about the plant food. He shoved it back in his pocket and graced Avery with a wide grin.
“I’m on it. You don’t have to worry, Mr. Wagner.”
“I know I don’t.” Avery smiled in return. “I’ll be gone two weeks this time, as it’s the start of the training session. And then on and off for a few days at a time for a couple of months.”
“My dad and I will watch the place. And I’ll take good care of your plants.”
Avery’s smile widened, even as nerves coalesced in his stomach. Logan had the rundown, and it was time to hit the road. He glanced at his watch and saw
he was already fifteen minutes behind schedule. It was a four-and-a-half-hour drive to Duncan Moor from his home in New Jersey, and Avery needed to get on the road.
Requiem had offered to fly him in and pay for a rental car, but Avery thought that was ridiculous. He’d spend longer waiting at the airport than actually in the air, and he’d arrive quicker if he drove. He also turned down the company’s offer to rent him a room at a B and B in town. He was nervous enough about leaving his home and participating in training. He wanted the comfort of friends, and when Blake and Derek offered him a room in their home, he gratefully accepted. At least his downtime would be comfortable.
Avery saw Logan out, turned down the young man’s offer to help him load the car, and took care of the task himself. Then he did one more walk-through of his home to make sure the doors and windows were locked and the air-conditioning set low. Finally he could find no more excuses to linger. He grabbed a bottle of water, locked his front door, and got into his car.
He navigated down the mountain—the twisty road required all his attention—breathed out a heavy sigh, and hit the buttons on his steering wheel to call Michael.
“You on the road yet?”
Avery chuckled at his oldest friend’s greeting. “I’m okay. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
Michael blew out a breath, and there was a little humor in his tone when he responded. “I worry. I expected your call an hour ago.” He paused, cleared his throat, and then continued. “And I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Avery smiled and dug his sunglasses out of the center console. He slipped them on and answered. “And, yes, I’m on the road now. Should be there in a little over four hours, depending on when or if I need to stop.”
“And you’re going straight to Blake’s?”
“I was planning on it.”
“Good. Derek has been cooking up a storm. He’s invited me and Sam for dinner. But I wanted to check with you to see if that’s okay.”
Avery rolled his eyes. “If I said no, you’d be waiting in the driveway when I got there, worried out of your head.”
Michael’s warm chuckle soothed something inside Avery. “Probably, yes. I’m hardwired that way.”
“You’re overbearing is what you are.” He tempered the jab with a smile. Even though Michael couldn’t see him, Avery knew it would come through in his words. “I’m okay, Michael. Really.”
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”
“I’m on their payroll. I do what they tell me.” Even as Avery said it, he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Requiem had been more than accommodating when Luke died, and had kept Avery on staff even though he wouldn’t actively ghostwalk anymore. The ability to die and come back to life and to be aware while in the spirit plane was rare. They didn’t want to lose Avery or his expertise just because he couldn’t ghostwalk.
“I would have talked to them,” Michael insisted, his words little more than a growl. Michael was one of his closest friends. They had trained at the same time, but more than that, Michael had the anchor gene. In Michael, it went a step further, as he developed telepathic abilities and had the capacity to concentrate his care on multiple operatives at a time. Michael wasn’t just an anchor, he was a Guardian.
“And maybe you would have gotten them to listen.” Avery doubted it, though. The board was dead set on starting the training program at the Duncan Moor branch and was just as determined that Avery work with the program. Since he was comfortable there, and it was just lecturing and sharing his knowledge, Avery hadn’t fought too hard. Once they took ghostwalking off the table, that is. At least that way, he was in a place he didn’t hate with people he liked. And hopefully, as long as he cooperated, they wouldn’t try to get more out of him.
As understanding as they had been about his bonded’s death and the aftermath it wreaked on Avery, he didn’t know how long that would last.
“Damn straight, I would have. Avery, I can still talk to them if you’re not—”
“I’m fine,” Avery interrupted. It was better to cut Michael off before he built up a head of steam. It was also the truth. He was in a better place than he’d been even six months earlier. He would never fully recover from Luke’s death, but he was healing. “Really, Michael. I’ll come, I’ll lecture, I’ll visit, and I’ll go home again. Rinse and repeat. It’s better than the alternative.”
Michael was silent for a long time. Finally he sighed. “All right. I’ll stop pushing.”
Avery snorted out a laugh. “No, you won’t.”
“Can’t help it,” Michael said flippantly. “I care about you, and that means you have to deal with me being, well… me.”
“Yeah, I know.” Avery smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you.” Avery tapped the button to disconnect the call before Michael could think of something else to say. He needed silence, and he liked to make long drives. It gave him time to think.
Tomorrow, he’d be standing in front of a group of trainees on the last leg of their journey—ghostwalkers and anchors all but ready to start their career. They’d had all the theoretical training they could get, and they’d made it that far. The last three to six months were about actually putting that training to use. Ghostwalkers would die, their anchors would care for them, and they’d all learn how to navigate the process. Avery’s lectures would be about walking on the spirit plane and how to help lost souls cross over. His one-on-one sessions would address individual concerns.
He could do it.
DUNCAN Moor was a sleepy town outside Rochester, New York. Requiem Inc. had opened a branch office there a hundred years before, when they realized the area had a high concentration of mediums. As much as they needed the ghostwalker’s special skill set, no one could go into the spirit plane without direction, and mediums provided that.
Avery had always liked the place and its small-town-America feel. Shops and storefronts littered Water Street, the main thoroughfare along the river that wound through the center of town. He took the long way to Blake and Derek’s townhouse, just so he could admire the charm. But the town wasn’t that big, and before long, he was pulling into the small development and then Blake and Derek’s driveway.
He got out of the car, but before he could do more than stretch, the front door of the house opened, and Derek strode down the steps. Derek was a big guy, all muscles, dark skin, and radiant smile, and Avery couldn’t help but relax at the sight of him. Derek had the anchor gene, and Avery’s own genes responded to that. Derek was made to care, and Avery was made to need care. Besides, Avery genuinely liked him. Avery was glad he decided to stay with them instead of taking the company up on the offer to get him a room somewhere. It was a comfort to have friends close, and Derek wasn’t nearly as overbearing as Michael.
Derek didn’t say a word. He just wrapped Avery in a warm hug, and Avery relaxed into it and inhaled deeply. His tense muscles unwound, and the stress he’d been feeling all but disappeared. He offered Derek a huge smile when he pulled back, and then he turned to give Blake a hug as well.
“It’s good to see you,” Blake said as he hugged him tightly.
“You too.” Avery pulled back and found another smile for them both. They’d met when Blake and Derek first started to bond, and Avery had come to help them navigate their new connection. An anchor bond was a rare thing. The ghostwalker/anchor pair had to connect on every level, and the anchor had to have the gene. It hardly ever happened.
Blake and Derek were his friends, and he treasured them, but there were times when just being around them was painful. They reminded him of what he no longer had. Avery and Luke had shared the bond, and being that connected to someone else was a true gift. Even though Avery was devastated when he lost Luke, he wouldn’t have given up the ten years they’d been bonded for anything. Not even to be saved the pain of his death.
He shoved the sadness away and focused on just how good it was to see them again.
He grinned and gestured over his shoulder.
“Is Michael staring out the window at me?”
Derek laughed as he moved toward the trunk of Avery’s car. “Yep. I can see Sam’s hand. He’s trying to tug him away. But Michael isn’t budging.”
Avery chuckled. Since Michael had finally gotten his head out of his ass and claimed Sam as his own, he’d moved into Sam’s house, which was right across the street. Sam and Blake were brothers and incredibly close. Neither wanted to move far from the other, and both their lovers were quick to accommodate their ghostwalkers. Michael didn’t share a bond with Sam—he couldn’t, since he was a Guardian—but their love was a whole other kind of connection.
What had he been thinking? He should have taken up the offer of the room at the bed and breakfast. Being around that much love was going to wear on him. As much as he cared for his friends, they were a constant reminder that Luke was no longer with him.
“You okay?” Blake murmured.
Avery nodded, even though it was a lie. He’d be fine. He just had to get himself together. “Yep. Just tired. And hungry. What are you feeding me, Derek?”
“Chicken marsala, roasted potatoes, and baby asparagus. I also got that wine you like, though it doesn’t go with the meal.” Derek offered him a wink.
“Here, give me that.” Avery took the messenger bag, but Derek refused to relinquish the suitcase and garment bag.
“Get in the house.” Derek motioned with his chin. “You have about twenty minutes before your friend comes tearing across the street for dinner. I assume you’d like to relax a little before he pushes his way into your life.”
Avery had to give him that. No doubt Michael would try to take over, pester him and push to make sure Avery was all right. Avery was never going to be 100 percent all right, but he was okay. And though it was harder than he expected, he also knew he could handle it.
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