Demons LLC (Damned and Cursed Book 7)

by Glenn Bullion

  "I'm alive." He knocked on the dashboard to hopefully help illustrate. "Unless ghosts have learned how to drive."

  "Damn! This is pretty awesome!"

  The boy turned to one side, lifted a leg up, and slid through the passenger's side door. Alex shifted uncomfortably as the uninvited guest settled in next to him.

  "Whoa," Alex said. "Actually, I'm kind of working here—"

  "I've seen psychics before, but not like you. Most of them are so generic. They just run around going I sense a presence here. There was one that actually saw me, I think, for like two seconds. But that was it. After that, nothing. She was cute, though. But…man, me and you, we're really having a conversation."

  Alex rolled his eyes as he glanced out the window to the house.

  "Yeah. We're really having a conversation. Listen, I'd love to talk, but—"

  "Were you born psychic? Or was it something that came along when you grew up?"

  Alex tried to be annoyed, but couldn't. The boy was chatty, maybe irritating, but Alex already liked him. His friendliness was catching.

  "I was bitten by a genetically altered ghost."

  The boy's brow furrowed in confusion. He moved his lips, repeating the words, and Alex laughed quietly.

  "Oh!" he said. "You talking about Spider-man? I saw the latest in the theater. I guess it wasn't bad, but not something I'd pay for. If I couldn't just walk inside any theater I wanted, I wouldn't have even bothered. Just last week I saw—"

  "Whoa!" Alex said, holding a hand up. He took a breath to gather his composure, something he'd wish the passenger would do. It was a shame ghosts didn't breathe. "My name's Alex. You got a name?"

  "Ah, sorry. I know I'm running my mouth. It's just been a while since I've talked to anyone, and the first time since dying that I've talked to a live person. I'm Nathan, but everyone calls me Nate. Or, they used to call me Nate."

  "Nice to meet you, Nate. I don't mean to cut you off, but I'm actually in the middle…."

  Alex trailed off as the opportunity in front of him smacked him across the face. How many times would he be able to interview a ghost before a case?

  "Go on," Nate pressed. "In the middle of what?"

  "Say, you don't happen to be haunting any of these houses, are you?"

  Nate scowled as he shook his head. "Nah, man. I don't usually go into any houses. That's like a violation of privacy, ya know? Even if I did, I don't have enough hate and anger, or even sadness to generate the energy to move anything around."

  Alex nodded thoughtfully. He wasn't sure how long Nate had been a ghost, but he knew enough about the basic mechanics of a haunting. It wasn't difficult for a ghost to haunt a house, as long as they had the proper motivation.

  Nate continued to speak as Alex watched the house.

  "There is one thing that I do though," he said. "There's this gorgeous woman that jogs every morning. Lives on the last house on the block. I guess the weather's still pretty good. It's not like I can feel it. Anyway, she runs in these little tight black shorts and a tank top. Red hair flopping all around. If a lawyer cornered me, I'd admit I follow her on her little jogs."

  "Yeah, the weather hasn't turned yet," Alex said. "A little warm for fall." He shook his head and faced Nate as his words sunk in. "Wait, you won't go into any houses, but you'll stalk a woman?"

  "Whoa, I wouldn't call it stalking. I just exercise with her. That's all." Nate gestured out the window. "And we'd better be quiet. That guy over there is giving you a goofy look."

  Alex turned to see a man walking his dog, his eyes locked on the truck. Grabbing his phone innocently, Alex watched the man and dog continue down the street. Alex was used to the odd glances. There were times it seemed he talked to ghosts more than people.

  "Let me see if I can guess," Nate said. "You're here to investigate that house over there."

  "And why would you say that?" Alex said, arching an eyebrow.

  "There's been a lot of people going in and out of there over the past few weeks. People bringing in all kinds of crap. I think I even saw a priest or something go in."

  "Have you heard or saw anything else…weird?"

  Nate nodded. "I've definitely heard some freaky noises, and I wasn't going to poke my head in, if you know what I mean."

  Alex turned and studied the house once again.

  "So, what do you think?" Nate asked. "A trapped soul, reliving a murder?"

  Alex was impressed with Nate's knowledge. Violent murders sometimes left a spirit unable to move on, trapped around their own death. There were times they didn't even know they were dead.

  "Maybe. I don't know."

  "So, what do you do? You go in there and talk to the ghosts? Like you're talking to me?"

  Alex shrugged. "And sometimes more."

  Nate smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I think I have to see this."

  "No. C'mon, man. Give me a break."

  Nate frowned, the disappointment obvious in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

  "I do this for money. It's like a side job for me. So, I have to be professional. Let me go in there and be professional."

  Nate took the rejection in stride. "Alright, man. But I am going to stay out here and watch."

  "That'll work."

  Alex gathered his phone and made sure all the apps he'd need were ready. Nate gave him a thumbs-up. Alex's hand was on the door handle when suddenly a van pulled up and parked in the middle of the street. Three people climbed out and stood still, watching the house. An older man, and another younger man and woman, not too much younger than Alex. They were close enough to hear their conversation.

  "Is this the house?"

  The younger man checked his phone. "714. This is it."

  The woman scanned the neighborhood. "Parking isn't great, is it?"

  "Troy," the older man said. "Give me two minutes to say hello, and start unloading. There's parking on the next street over."

  Troy gave a salute. "You got it, boss."

  "Don't call me boss."

  The older man walked up the sidewalk as Troy opened the rear door of the van. He pulled a camera mounted on a tripod and set it on the ground. In the distance, the older man spoke with someone at the front door.

  "Ah, damn," Alex muttered. "You've got to be kidding me."

  "What's wrong?" Nate asked. "You know these guys?"

  "Not at all."

  Troy and the young woman continued their conversation.

  "Hey, Amy," he said. "You know, these cameras aren't all that heavy. It wouldn't kill you to carry one."

  Amy gestured to the lovely dress she wore. It was a pretty turquoise, stopping at the knees. Her one-inch heels matched. A very well put-together woman. She couldn't have been a year or two older than Alicia.

  "The last time I helped you move anything, I had to bend over. You looked up my dress."

  Troy ran a hand through his dark hair, and a coy smile crossed his face.

  "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't see anything."

  Troy unloaded the van while Amy stared at the house. Alex shook his head and rested it against the seat in frustration.

  "I can't believe this."

  "What's going on?" Nate asked. For some unknown reason, he was whispering. "Another of those ghost-hunting teams you see on TV? I hate to say it, but they look a lot more professional than you."

  "And why is that? Because they have a pretty lady and a bunch of cameras?"

  "Well…yeah."

  Alex laughed, to try to keep from getting angry. Cindy always offered to come with him, and he would always decline. They shared everything, but she'd seen enough in their life. There was no need to provide fuel for more nightmares.

  "Maybe I will start bringing Cindy along with me."

  "Who's Cindy? Is she hot? Does she have a sister, preferably one who's died?"

  Alex narrowed his gaze at Nate.

  "Sorry," Nate said. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

  Alex listened once again to
the conversation outside his truck.

  "So," Troy said. "Do you really think this house is haunted?"

  Amy sighed and put her hands on her hips.

  "I wouldn't get my hopes up. What were our last two houses? Swelling pipes, and—"

  "Raccoons in the attic," Troy finished for her. "Don't remind me. One of the little bastards bit me."

  "Mr. Donovan must think something is here, though. Right? He wouldn't bring us out here otherwise."

  "Yeah." Troy lowered his head, his anxiety showing. "Uh, Amy, listen. If this doesn't go all night—"

  "No. I will not go out with you."

  "You don't even know what I was going to say."

  "Of course I did," she said, laughing. "I'm psychic, remember?"

  Alex huffed. "This just keeps getting better and better."

  "What's the problem, man?"

  "I thought it would just be me."

  "So…it's not just you. So what?"

  "The things I do, I just—"

  He jumped when there was a knock at the window. The attractive psychic, Amy, waved shyly and offered a smile.

  "Hi, there," she said.

  Alex turned to see if she was addressing someone behind him. Nate, perhaps? Her eyes were focused on him as she made the motion to roll down his window. He did so, his gaze never leaving hers.

  "Yeah?"

  "Hi," she said again, awkwardly. "Uh…are you going to be here a while? Parking on this street sucks. My friend over there wanted me to ask you."

  "No, I didn't," Troy called. "She said she didn't want to walk a block back to the van."

  Alex laughed. "I'll be here another minute or so, then I'm gone."

  "Thank you so much," Amy said, reaching in to touch his arm. "We really appreciate it."

  "No problem."

  He rolled up the window as Amy turned to talk to Troy. He could feel Nate's eyes boring into the back of his head.

  "You're leaving?" Nate asked. "You just got here."

  "Obviously, they don't need me now, do they?"

  "Damn, man, you quit easy. You're just going to leave? I mean…so they got a lot of hardware, and a real pretty psychic lady, and the guy on the porch up there who's a lot older and probably a lot more experienced."

  "Thanks, Nate."

  "If for nothing else, stay and get that chick's phone number. I think she digs you."

  Alex held up his hand to show off his ring. "I'm married."

  "Damn! You're way young to be married, aren't you?" He held up a hand. "Even better. Get to know her, and tell her you know this cool guy named Nate."

  A chuckle escaped from Alex, against his will. Troy and Amy heard him and gave him an odd look. Alex took in the house one more time. Troy continued to unload gear and set it on the sidewalk while Amy helped. Mr. Donovan spoke with who Alex assumed was the head of the household on the porch, the father. Mr. Donovan kept a hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner.

  "I want to help," Alex said. "And I'd like to get paid, but this isn't going to work. It was nice meeting you, Nate."

  "Wow," Nate said, shaking his head. "Alright, man. Hopefully I'll see you around."

  Nate slid out and stood on the sidewalk. Alex started the truck and shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable as he fastened his seatbelt. He turned to give the house one last look, doing his best to fight the guilt that was creeping in. He didn't like leaving a family in need. He also certainly didn't enjoy leaving easy money on the table. But working alongside another team wouldn't end well. Too many questions would pop up, ones Alex didn't like answering. Even the strongest psychics couldn't have a full conversation with a ghost. There were limits as to how much a human could peer into the spirit world.

  Alex had no such limits.

  Before pulling out onto the street, he saw something that caught his eye. A boy, no more than ten years old, stood at one of the windows on the second floor, possibly a bedroom. He held the curtain back, looking out at the world before him. His eyes and posture haunted Alex. Such sadness, such defeat. The boy was terrified. It looked like he hadn't smiled in weeks, or slept for that matter.

  The boy looked at Alex. His eyes almost begged for help.

  Alex shook his head to clear his mind and focused on the road ahead. He stopped at the end of the block and prepared to turn left. Now that he knew where he was going, it shouldn't have taken any longer than ninety minutes to get home. There would still be a little night left. He could relax and watch TV with Cindy, eat a simple dinner. Maybe, with a little luck and a few moves, he could move their night from the couch to the bedroom.

  He took another left, sighing. Envisioning Cindy's beautiful eyes and gorgeous skin, he allowed himself a small smile as he spoke to himself. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  "Maybe tomorrow night, baby," he said.

  Two more lefts, and the circle around the block was complete. The van still hadn't moved. Troy was in the middle of climbing behind the wheel, while Amy guarded the gear on the sidewalk. Alex slid in next to him and parked in the same spot.

  Troy rolled down his window and leaned across the seat.

  "Hey," he said, frustration in his voice. "I thought you said you were leaving?"

  "Turns out I forgot to do something." Alex pointed down the street to a car pulling away. "Looks like you're in luck, though. A spot opened up."

  "Ah, cool," Troy said. He put the van in gear. "Looks like we both got lucky."

  Alex smirked. "Yeah. Lucky."

  Troy pulled away, leaving Amy alone with the gear. Alex gave himself one last look in the rear-view mirror. He wasn't vain by any means, but wanted to look his best for a client. Clients recommended him to other potential clients, and a bright smile sometimes went a long way.

  "You handsome demon, you," he joked.

  He shut the door behind him, remembering to bring his phone. Looking over the hood of the truck, Nate stood on the sidewalk with his arms crossed. He wore an amused, almost smug grin.

  "Wow," Nate said. "That was the fastest trip I've ever seen."

  "Shut up," Alex joked. "Stay out here, alright?"

  "You got it. I'll keep an eye on things on the outside for you. Like a lookout. Should we have like a signal or something, if you need me to come busting in?"

  "You don't need to do all that, just…." Alex lowered his head, deciding it was pointless to argue with him. "No signal needed."

  "Alright, man. I'll be right here. Unless that woman comes out jogging again. I might be gone for a while after that."

  Alex crossed the street. The look of confusion on Amy's face told him she'd watched his conversation. He wondered what kind of psychic she was. Did she get glimpses into the spirit world? Was her field in psychometry, basically ESP through touch? Alex imagined many guys lining up, willing to be touched by her. Maybe she was a medium.

  Alex smiled and gave a polite nod as he approached.

  "Hi. I'm Alex."

  Amy returned the smile, her cheeks turning red.

  "Amy. Amy Devereux."

  They shook hands. Amy didn't twitch or go into any kind of psychic trance. So much for psychometry.

  "So," Alex said. His eyes traveled along the hardware sitting on the sidewalk. He didn't know what any of it was. He was certain that even though some of the gear looked like cameras, they were far more than that. "It looks like we're both here to do the same thing."

  Amy's eyes lit up. "You're a paranormal investigator, too?"

  "Something like it. Don't worry. I won't get in your way." It was tempting to add So stay out of mine.

  Laughing, Amy waved dismissively. "Oh, I'm not worried about that." She looked him up and down, nearly making him squirm. "Where's all your gear?"

  "Oh," Alex said, reaching for his phone. "My wife made me get this. I'm not too crazy about it, but I'm figuring it out. Camera, pen, voice recorder. I have to admit, it does have its uses. But I have to wonder about the GPS thing."

  Amy was taken aback. "No EMF? Infrared? E
VP?"

  She was speaking Greek to him, but Alex did understand EVP. Electronic Voice Phenomenon. The art of recording a one-sided conversation, and hoping a spirit would respond.

  Alex shook his head. "Nah. I'm more simple. I just like to talk to them."

  Amy said nothing. She stared at him, her mouth open and eyes wide. Alex couldn't tell if it was lust written across her face, or she thought he was a crackpot. When the silence turned awkward, he smiled and nodded toward the house.

  "Well, I'd better go introduce myself."

  Alex didn't need to be officially psychic to sense Amy staring at him. Putting her out of his mind, he waved as he approached the porch. Mr. Donovan was still talking to the head of the household. Their conversation turned to a whisper, then completely stopped as he drew near.

  The cold chill down his spine grew worse with every step.

  "Hello," Alex said, taking the two steps and joining them.

  The man on the left eyed Alex carefully.

  "Are you…Alex?"

  A small weight lifted. At least they didn't forget he was coming.

  "I am, sir. Alex Teague. I'm sorry about the time. I would have been here sooner, but I have to admit, I got a little lost getting here."

  "Don't worry about it. We're just glad your here. I'm Jason. Jason Felder. My wife and kids are inside. Listen, I have to prepare you—"

  Alex held up a hand. "No, please. Actually, don't prepare me. I'd rather work cold."

  Mr. Donovan laughed quietly. "You sound just like Amy. I'm Professor Donovan. I teach at the local university. And, when I can, I like to try to help people with…unusual problems, like Jason has here. It's good to meet you. Jason told me you were coming."

  Alex raised an eyebrow. It would have been nice to have had that same courtesy.

  "Here's my card," Donovan offered.

  He accepted the card and shoved it in his pocket, feeling like an amateur that he didn't have one to offer in return. The next time he talked to Cindy, that would be the first thing he brought up. Business cards.

  He regarded both men. Donovan was in his sixties, and had a grandfatherly air about him. All he needed was a red coat, and he could have passed for Santa Claus. He wore a button-down shirt and dress pants, looking like he'd just stepped out of the classroom.