The bedroom door was shut, but he could see light creeping in from the hall. He put on a shirt and opened the door.
Brooke stood in the bathroom, staring into the mirror. Connor crossed his arms and watched her from the doorway. The clothes he lent her to sleep in didn't fit. The pants covered her feet, the shirt collar was large enough to expose one shoulder. She twisted and turned, studying her own reflection. He'd always thought Brooke was attractive, but couldn't deny the look a soul insurance company could put together.
She seemed satisfied with herself. She studied her eyes, her skin, her almost-spiky hair. Opening her mouth wide, Brooke examined her gums and teeth. She felt her breasts, nearly drawing a chuckle from him, and grabbed the bottom of her shirt. Connor's eyes widened as she started to pull it off, revealing her stomach.
"Whoa! Brooke!"
She yanked her shirt back down and spun to face Connor, a hand to her chest. "Shit!" she shouted. "I've had this body less than a day. You trying to give me a heart attack already?"
"You? What about me? With you getting ready to pull your shirt off in there."
She laughed, still trying to catch her breath. "So, if you saw my boobies, you'd have a heart attack?"
"I might. What are you doing up?"
"I couldn't sleep. I'm just not tired. It's not like I've been up all day."
He nodded. "Are you liking your new body?"
"I think so. It'll definitely take some getting used to. I feel a little guilty. You know, this is a stolen body. But it does feel good. My chest is bigger, that's for sure. The white hair is weird, but I think I like it. I keep trying to push up my glasses, but I'm not wearing them."
"You did that when you were a spirit, too. You've been wearing glasses since your were six. I'm sure that's a hard habit to break."
She kept her eyes locked on him, longer than he was comfortable with.
"You know a lot about me, and I don't know anything about you."
"There's not much to know. You'll catch up again in no time."
"You took care of me, didn't you? When I was dead?"
He cleared his throat to stall for time. It was the strangest romantic tale he could ever imagine, a living person falling for a soul, but that's exactly what happened. He would have loved to tell Brooke how he felt about her, but the timing was wrong. She had much more important things on her mind.
Connor wasn't an expert on women, but he knew something was there between them. But that was the old Brooke, the one he knew several hours ago. There was a chance the new Brooke might not feel the same way. She told him before her resurrection to keep her in his life, but the last thing he wanted to do was scare her away with the truth.
"Well, I wouldn't say took care of. You were a soul. I showed you the ropes. We hung out, watched horror movies—"
"Went to baseball games."
"Yeah. Just the one."
"That almost looked like a date."
His face grew hot. Brooke leaned against the sink and folded her arms. She was obviously enjoying his awkwardness, toying with him. Connor thought back to the kiss they shared, her light touching his lips. He imagined kissing her again, running his hands through her hair, and the images were difficult to push away.
Before he had the chance to open his mouth and make a fool of himself, two souls rose through the floor in his bedroom. They spoke to each other in rushed tones, and Connor couldn't hear what they were saying.
"Do you always get late night visitors?" Brooke asked.
"I used to, all the time. They're probably just passing through—"
The souls flew at them quickly, stopping in the hall. The motion caught Connor by surprise, and he covered his eyes at the sudden change in light.
"They're awake."
"Oh, wonderful. It's not like we can warn them."
"Sure we can. We can fly around like crazy. They'll have to at least wonder—"
"Whoa," Connor interrupted. "Warn us about what?"
"Are you…talking to them?" Brooke asked.
He nodded and held up his hand for silence.
"You can hear us?"
"Yeah, I can hear you."
"Wow. I've seen that on TV, but didn't think—"
"I'm Jim, and this is Brian. We were in the apartment below watching that hot dancer sleep."
Connor shook his head in amusement, and glanced at Brooke, who wore a look of confusion. He was sure she'd have similar problems in her future.
"Don't judge us," Brian said. "Anyway, we heard some noises—"
"Brian, he doesn't care about the details. Listen, three shady-looking people are outside. They slashed the tires on an old Bug, and they keep making phone calls. They've mentioned this apartment number a few times. You'd better call the police or something."
"Actually, I think one of them is a cop. He kept talking about his captain."
Connor grabbed Brooke's arm and gently pulled her out of the bathroom. "Get your stuff."
"What's wrong—?"
"We have to get out of here. Now."
"This is my stuff. I don't have anything, remember?"
He couldn't tell Brian and Jim apart. One soul flew down the hall and through the front door. The other moved to the side, making room for Connor and Brooke.
"Connor? What's going on?"
"They found us."
"How? You said there weren't any alarms in the warehouse."
"Well, I didn't think there were. Maybe they had cameras or something—"
The soul came back into the living room, stopping near the door. "They're right outside the apartment!"
Connor ducked into the kitchen, dragging Brooke behind him. She nearly tripped, but he caught her and held her close as the front door flew open. They both jumped at the sound of splintering wood.
Voices spokes all at once.
"Brian, move away from them!" Jim shouted. "Your light ain't helping!"
"Let's make this quick," someone said quietly.
"I thought there was a woman here?"
"They're probably screwing in bed."
Brian shot up through the ceiling and came down further away, near the balcony door.
"What's with all the souls? The guy just has souls hanging around his place?"
"Shut up and let's go."
"It's all three of them," Jim said.
Connor gently moved Brooke behind him and reached for a large pan he kept on the stove. He crept up near the edge of the wall and brought the pan back. Both Jim and Brian hovered on the other side of the living room.
"They're coming. Get ready to swing…now!"
He stepped out and swung blindly, aiming high. The first man leading the group of three never saw it coming. The pan connected squarely with the side of his face, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. He crumpled and fell to the floor near the couch. Connor reared the pan back again, but didn't have the chance to swing as Brooke stepped in front of him. She swung wildly with a smaller pan, stealing Connor's idea. She hit the second man in the nose, dropping him to one knee. Her momentum carried her into the third man, who tried to grab her.
Connor dropped the pan and rushed forward, reaching over Brooke to push the third man. He lost his balance and fell backward, leaning against the wall. Connor ran to the coffee table to grab his wallet. Brooke hesitated a moment before running to Connor's side.
"Come on!"
He grabbed her hand and led in climbing over the couch, away from the last man on his feet against the wall. The open front door was only a few feet away when he felt Brooke's hand rip from his own. The small pan she carried flew across the room.
The man had regained his senses and dove at her ankles, taking her to the ground. He pulled at her leg with one hand while trying to grab something from his waist with the other. Connor caught a glimpse of the terror in Brooke's eyes as she reached out to him. He grabbed her arm and pulled, but the man's grip was solid.
Suddenly Jim and Brian were there, floating near the floor.
They moved directly into the man's eyes, partially going into his head, and stayed close as the man released his grip. He clenched his eyes shut and shouted out, trying to wave away the souls.
Connor pulled Brooke to her feet and held her up with an arm around the waist.
"Thank you, guys!" he shouted.
"Go!" Brian said. "Get out of here!"
They sprinted down the stairs. Lights came on in different apartments as the tenants awoke to the noise. As the pair neared the bottom a shot rang out, striking the railing next to them. Brooke screamed as sparks flew, and Connor glanced up, only for a second. One of the men leaned over the landing, aiming a gun, while another passed him and started down the stairs.
Connor and Brooke burst through the door into the night air, but they both knew they weren't safe. Brooke angled for Connor's car, but he pulled her in the opposite direction.
"No, we can't," he said, pointing to the tires.
They ran together, Brooke just a step behind, as he led her away from the apartment and down the street. Connor glanced over his shoulder to see two of the men in the distance, running behind them. He knew they wouldn't outrun them on the sidewalk, especially without shoes.
Connor turned down the first alley they came to. Brooke kept up with him easily, but stumbled once and cried in pain as she stepped on a rock. He scanned for a place to hide. The back of a strip mall was to their right, a row of houses to the left. He looked for anything, a large trash bin, an open back door. A shed in a backyard near the end of alley caught his attention, the door slightly open. He helped Brooke scale the short fence first. He looked over his shoulder once again to the mouth of the alley to make sure they weren't seen.
Brooke stumbled and fell as he closed the shed door behind him. Connor kicked what felt like a lawn-mower with his bare foot. He dropped to one knee, and a hand grabbed his shoulder in the darkness. Brooke found his hand squeezed it. They both said nothing, only their labored breathing filling the shed.
There were voices in the alley behind them.
"Do you see them?"
"No. I know I saw them come down this way."
"Call Andy, tell him to get the car. They couldn't have gotten too far."
Their footsteps faded away, but Connor and Brooke still didn't move or say a word. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, still holding his hand. He could barely see the outline of her face. Nearly five minutes passed before either one had the courage to speak.
"Are we safe?" Brooke asked.
"We should wait a few more minutes."
"What have you gotten me into?"
"Me? This was your idea."
"I don't remember any of that."
"Well, I'm sure neither of us saw this coming when you were telling me to hit the button."
"There was something in the warehouse. Cameras, or an alarm. I told you."
"Yeah. You told me."
"What do we do now? Should we go to the police?"
"Some cops are in on it. You didn't want to go to the police when you were a soul."
"I'm not a soul anymore."
"I know that. We definitely can't go back to my place. I've got fifty bucks in my wallet, and my bank card. Do you think they can trace bank cards? Like in the movies?"
"Let's not find out. I have an idea of where we can go. You didn't happen to grab your cell phone, did you?"
"I don't have one."
"Wonderful. Let's go find a phone. We need to call a cab."
"You're not thinking of going to Amber's, are you? We should leave her out of this."
"No way. I'm not going near her. She's ruined my life enough as it is. I've got another place in mind."
CHAPTER 16
Brooke barely noticed the cab driver staring at her as Connor paid him. The cab pulled away, leaving Brooke and Connor standing alone on the sidewalk. She looked at the beautiful house, not a single light on, and felt guilty at the thought of knocking on the front door. But they had nowhere else to turn. Going to Amber was out of the question, and Brooke would be lucky if her father didn't slam the door in her face. She had no doubt her father would rather see her dead than in a body that wasn't hers.
"Wow," Connor said. "Who lives here?"
"A friend of mine. We actually have a lot in common now."
"Yeah, except for the money part, I bet. Look at this place."
The pair walked up the long driveway to the front door. Brooke felt silly as she debated on whether to knock or ring the doorbell. The house was so large she couldn't see how anyone sleeping in a bedroom would hear anything at the front door. She alternated on both for several minutes.
"Are you sure anyone's even home?" Connor asked.
"Hold on!" a voice called from inside. "Give me a minute."
Brooke looked down at the ruined sleepwear she'd borrowed from Connor. Her sweatpants were filthy from the fall in the shed, with a hole torn in the leg. Connor's clothes weren't any better.
"We look terrible."
"We look better than what those guys had in mind for us."
She went to adjust her glasses, then quietly lowered her head at remembering her glasses were gone. Looking down at her sore feet, flashes of the attack in Connor's apartment rushed back to her. It was difficult to make anything out, but one of them did look like a cop or a security officer. They were lucky to get out, thanks to Connor's quick reactions and whatever information the two souls told him.
Brooke listened to his story, and believed him, but to watch Connor talk to souls was amazing. She could only wonder what life was like for him, hearing things no one else could hear.
The door opened. Brooke was so lost in her own thoughts that she jumped. Isabel stood in her nightgown, her hair a mess, rubbing at her eyes. Brooke finally knew for certain she was shorter, as Isabel was slightly taller. Isabel looked back and forth from Brooke to Connor, trying to take in the sight that was on her front porch.
"Yes? Can I help you two?"
"Isabel, it's me, Brooke. Brooke Martin."
"Brooke Martin is dead, young lady. I went to her funeral. I don't know what kind of sick prank this is, but get going before I call the police."
"Really? You went to my funeral?"
"Yeah," Connor answered for her. "She was there. I recognize her."
Brooke looked up at Connor. She wanted to reach out and hug him. "You were there, too?"
Confusion flashed across Isabel's face before she tried to close the door. Connor reached out and stopped her.
"Isabel, seriously, this is Brooke."
"It can't be. Brooke didn't have soul insurance. We saw her soul, flying over the cemetery."
"Flying," Brooke said, shivering. "I can't see myself flying."
"It's a crazy story," Connor said. "But this is her."
Brooke recited to Isabel the day they first met, the day of Isabel's resurrection. She talked about how they ate breakfast, and the story Brooke told about her sister.
Isabel shook her head, her hands on her hips. "Well, at least you got a nice body for yourself. Do I even want to know what happened?"
"Probably not."
"You can tell me anyway over some tea. Come inside."
The inside of Isabel's home was just as nice as the outside. Beautiful furniture, spacious living room, a kitchen the size of Brooke's old apartment. A large staircase led to a second floor. Brooke was in awe as Isabel led them to a dining room.
"Your home is beautiful," Brooke said.
"Thank you. It takes a small army to clean it. The crew had a new guy with them the other day, and he wondered how a young woman like myself managed to have a house like this. He flirted with me and everything." Isabel looked Connor up and down. "Is tea okay for you, young man…uh, man?"
Connor smiled and hesitated as he glanced at the dining room table. He gestured to his clothes. "Tea is fine, but I'm not exactly clean."
"You're fine. You both have a seat."
Isabel disappeared from the dining room as Brooke and C
onnor sat down. Connor leaned close to Brooke to whisper.
"You trust her, right? She's not in there calling the cops right now?"
"Yeah, I trust her. Isabel's great."
Isabel smiled as she carefully carried a tray of cups. It was strange to watch the shapely, gorgeous woman engage in such an activity as serving tea. Brooke didn't know anyone her age that could even make a cup of tea.
Connor told Isabel the story, although he abbreviated certain parts. Isabel listened intently, nursing her drink. Brooke waited for her to jump up and run to the phone, or wrinkle her face in confusion or disbelief. She did none of those things, only shaking her head when Connor finished.
"Black market soul resurrection," she said. "I guess it shouldn't be surprising. Everything else has a black market, why not toss our souls out there, too?"
"This body I have, it's stolen," Brooke said. "I could get in serious trouble."
Connor shook his head. "I doubt it. I'm not sure the law applies to souls. If anything, I might get in trouble."
"There's one thing I don't understand," Isabel said. "How did you resurrect Brooke? How did you even know the soul was her?"
"I…can hear souls. We've been friends for the past month. She's the one who recognized your missing body at the airport."
Isabel looked at Brooke. "You don't remember any of this?"
"No. I only remember falling out of my window, and waking up on a gurney."
"Do you believe him?"
"Yes," she said, without hesitation. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm here, aren't I?"
Isabel finished her tea and leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath. "So, what do you want from me?"
"Just a place to stay, for a night," Brooke said. "So we can figure out what to do."
"Certainly. I've got six bedrooms."
"We're sleeping together," Connor said.
Brooke and Isabel stared at Connor. A smile spread across Isabel's face, and Brooke giggled quietly. Connor looked between the women before his face turned crimson.
"I don't mean like that. I just mean in the same room. I'll take the floor. I'm not gonna try anything, I just want to keep an eye on Brooke. Would you both stop looking at me like that?"
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