Psychic Wanted (Un)Dead or Alive (The SDF Paranormal Mysteries Book 4)

by Amie Gibbons

  “Oh, give me a break,” Carvi snapped, grabbing her wrist and yanking her forward with such force she stumbled and fell to her knees.

  “Carvi!” I yelped as the woman shouted.

  Carvi grabbed my hand and put it on the woman’s head before I could react.

  I got a quick flash of a guy on a dark patio telling her it was over and he never felt that way about her, didn’t know why she was making such a big deal about it, while music playing inside a large house said it was at a house party.

  I pulled my hand back.

  Was her getting dumped what she didn’t want me to see?

  Not like it didn’t happen all the time, but considering that was what she considered significant probably meant it broke her heart and rocked her world.

  And it wasn’t like I had any room to judge.

  I was broken hearted over a guy I’d never so much as kissed who was my boss, while I had a boyfriend and feelings for Carvi.

  I really didn’t have any room to judge what someone thought was earthshatterin’.

  “You jerk!” I yanked my hand away and Carvi let me.

  “Not arguing,” he said as he let the doctor go and she climbed to her feet, looking mad as a wasp in a soda can.

  “I’m sorry about him,” I said. “He’s, well, a jerk.”

  “I have a few other words to describe him,” she said, giving him a nasty glare.

  “Now that we got that outta the way though,” I said, “I might be able to see what you saw off the body.”

  Her mouth worked as she looked between me and Carvi.

  “It could help,” Kat said, stepping up so she was partially between the doctor and Carvi. “But, this is a lot to take, I get that, and no one even introduced you. Having a little more small talk might help with the comfort levels.”

  “Yeah. I’m Ariana,” I said. “I’m a Taurus, from Alabama, came here for Vandy, kinda young to be in the FBI, but hey, I get special treatment because of what I can do, and I’m still workin’ on this whole magic thing.”

  “I’m Doctor Paige Donahue,” she said. “I think astrology is bullshit, I’m originally from Denver, came here for Vanderbilt too, but for the medical school, and I know nothing about magic besides the fact that it exists, and two months ago, I didn’t even know that much.”

  “Good start,” Kat said. “Can Ariana try?”

  “Sure,” Dr. Donahue said.

  “Carvi, can you help?” I asked.

  The doctor’s lip pulled up and she glared at him.

  He met her eyes and her face went slack.

  “Carvi!” I said.

  “She’s bugging me,” he said. “And she’s kind of a bitch.”

  “You grabbed her hand and put it on me, basically violating her,” I said. “Most people don’t like that.”

  “Was her thing even that interesting?”

  “No, but that’s none of our business.”

  “Anyway,” he said, nodding at her.

  “Let her go first.”

  He rolled his eyes but the doctor’s face snapped back and she stared, probably oblivious to the fact that something just happened.

  “You okay with this?” I asked her.

  “If it will help. I want to stop whatever killed the poor guy.”

  But she looked like she was suckin’ on a lemon.

  Carvi rested a hand on my shoulder. “I can guide you into the doctor’s memories.”

  “Okay,” I said, reaching forward and taking the doctor’s wrist.

  Flash.

  The world didn’t fuzz like it usual did with visions. It was like it’d been when Carvi jumped in and everything was real and solid as if I was back in time and standing in the middle of it.

  Only I wasn’t me.

  “What the?” I asked in my voice as my eyes moved without my permission.

  I heard my question but didn’t feel my lips move.

  “You’re inside the doctor,” Carvi said from somewhere off to the side.

  I tried to turn to look and couldn’t make my head move.

  “That’s new,” I said as the body I was in walked forward.

  I’d had visions where I was in the person’s head, but not like this, where it was more of a recreation than a vision.

  The body was a pancake on the ground, smashed and mangled.

  He’d landed so hard on his back that his skin split and I could see the skin pulling back along the sides, enough that his kidneys would probably be showing if he were rolled over.

  If I were in my own body, I’d probably want to puke at that, but the doctor didn’t feel anything but pity.

  She knelt by the body, hands moving as she did her thing.

  I’d watched Kat do this time and time again, but it was different from the driver’s seat.

  I couldn’t quite hear the doctor’s thoughts, but I felt her thinking.

  Snatches of thoughts gleaned from emotions flashed through me. She felt bad for the guy, because she understood the pain that could drive a human to such extremes, but at the same time, there was contempt for actually doing it, for being so weak.

  What about his loved ones?

  How would they feel when they found out he’d chosen to leave them instead of fighting through whatever drove him to this?

  An officer came up with a handheld EMF similar to what we used and ran it around.

  And it went batshit crazy.

  The doctor froze.

  That changed everything.

  Because maybe this wasn’t a poor soul who saw no way out. Maybe it was a victim.

  She almost felt… relieved?

  Like being murdered was better than committing suicide, maybe?

  Something flashed out of the corner of the doctor’s eye and her head snapped around.

  Light slid over the man’s lips, so slight it could’ve been a reflection off the high-rise above.

  But she knew it wasn’t.

  It flowed too well, too smoothly.

  And then it jumped down to his stomach, sliding down his belly and to his genitals.

  She jerked her hand off the man’s hip where she’d been investigating the sides of the wound before she turned him and the light disappeared.

  She pulled out the phone and called the lieutenant.

  It was time to pull in the FBI.

  I was outta the vision with the suddenness of a rubber band snapping and stumbled back.

  “What the quack?” I asked, looking at Carvi.

  “I...” Carvi paused. “I do not know.”

  “Did I see what I thought I saw?” Dr. Donahue asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “There was something there, and it was slidin’ down the body.”

  “I thought so,” she said. “You do this all the time, and you’re saying you’ve never seen anything like this?”

  “I haven’t been doing this for very long,” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at Carvi. “But he has been around the block-”

  “Been around more than that, lea,” Carvi said.

  I scowled. “And he said he’s never seen anything like this. Whatever it is, we’re kinda lost.”

  “I thought it was pretty obvious it’s a ghost,” Dr. Donahue said.

  “Yes,” I said. “The EMF says so, but it’s not acting like a ghost. It’s closer to a demon, I’d say. But, demons don’t set off the EMF like that.”

  “Ghost of a demon, maybe?” Kat said.

  Carvi frowned. “Possibly, but…” His eyes went up and his mouth mumbled through something.

  Kat looked at me and I shrugged.

  “Gods above, I miss Milo,” Carvi finished in a whisper barely loud enough for me to hear.

  I flinched.

  Milo was Carvi’s little brother. He was half demon like Carvi and probably the most powerful psychic to have walked the planet, mostly because he’d had thirty-five-hundred-years of practice and honing his skills.

  He’d died protectin’ me.

  And because of that beau
tiful act of sacrifice he’d done on reflex, I owed Carvi five favors. I’d performed the first in July and owed him four more.

  And even with me agreeing to that, Carvi still wanted to turn me and move me to Miami to be his own personal psychic, basically replacing his brother, at least in that respect.

  No one could ever replace his brother in any other way.

  Milo had been his partner in life in all senses of the word besides romantic. They’d been through hell as kids and were bonded closer than most married couples I know.

  I couldn’t imagine losing someone who was that much a part of me.

  And while Carvi mostly acted like a fun loving, irresponsible playboy without a care in the world, I knew he missed his brother so terribly the pain of losing him had nearly driven him to end himself once or twice.

  I cleared my throat. “I’m-”

  “Say you’re sorry one more time, lea, and I will get… unpleasant,” Carvi said.

  I looked at him.

  “November second was Milo’s birthday,” Carvi said. “That was the day I knew my purpose in life. It was to protect that helpless little thing.”

  “Carvi…”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “I have no idea what it’s like to lose someone like that,” I said. “I’m here if you want to talk.”

  “No, I don’t want to think about it.”

  Ooooookay.

  Why did guys do that? Just bury things instead of talkin’ them out?

  “I heard that,” he said. “We deal with shit by doing, by working it out when it’s the time for it, not whining about it.”

  “Doin’ what?”

  He grinned at me, licking his lips, and I blushed.

  “Am I missing something?” Dr. Donahue asked, looking between us. “It’s like there’s a conversation going on.”

  “There is,” Kat said. “It’s complicated. Don’t ask.”

  “But there’s another guy she’s whining about too?”

  “Yep, and that’s on top of her boyfriend.”

  “Hey!” I said.

  “Sorry,” Kat said, putting her hands up. “You opened the door by talking about all this. I figured you wouldn’t mind me explaining a little.”

  “I just… okay,” I said, turning to the doctor. “There’s a guy being a cold, icy asshole! And I just don’t know how to get him to cut it out. He’s ignoring my texts and invites out and when we’re together he’s just… cold! I just want a chance to fix things and he’s keepin’ that door locked up tight.”

  She looked at me, eyes hardening in way that made me flinch.

  “Oh my god, you stupid little girl. There's no such thing as second chances,” she said.

  I jerked back.

  “Excuse you?” I said.

  “You blew it, you’re done. There’s nothing but one chance,” she said. “That’s how guys are.”

  “I feel so incredibly sad for you right now, if you actually believe that,” I said.

  “Save your pity for yourself because you're going to need it when you get it through your thick skull that you blew it. I don't know what you did exactly, but you qualifying it as crazy says everything.”

  “No, you don't understand, he-”

  “No, you don't. You acted crazy on a guy you were dating. You do that and that's it, you're done. Game over.”

  “No, I mean, it's not... We weren't dating. He's my friend.”

  “Same diff. You act crazy on a guy, he's done with you. The switch flips in their brains and they no longer want anything to do with you. And nothing you do can change that. It happened to me in med school, my sister in high school, my friend two weeks ago. Same story.”

  “That's not Grant. He's better than that.”

  She laughed, and it was biting. “No, he's not. He's a guy. That's how they think. He may have been your friend, he isn't anymore. You said so yourself, he's acting like he doesn't care.”

  She drew a sharp breath and spat, “Guess what, honey, when a guy acts like he doesn't care, he doesn't. They are that simple.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe some, but not him. Maybe I just need to apologize and-”

  “Are you deaf?” she asked, hands flying with her vicious words. “He. Doesn't. Care. Have some pride. Whatever you did, he's not going to forgive you or forget it, or whatever. It's done, you're done, let it go.”

  “I think you're projectin' on account of what happened to you. There's always the chance to make things right. There's always forgiveness.”

  Her face clouded and I flinched as I realized I’d just given away what I saw in my vision.

  “Yeah?” she said. “Tell that to the poor schlub pancaked on the sidewalk twenty floors below us. He tossed himself overboard because something drove him to it. And he’s not getting a second chance. And whatever did that to him, they don’t get a second chance once they’re caught. We’ll send them packing and that’ll be it. No second chances.”

  “That’s not the same th-”

  “It’s exactly the same thing. Guys, like life, don’t give a shit about circumstances. You fuck up, crash and burn, and you don’t get a second chance. You’re dead to him. Let it go. He’s gone.”

  She tossed me a sneer before storming out and slamming the door behind her.

  “Well, she has issues,” Carvi said.

  “Ya think?” Kat said.

  “What did you see when you touched her?” Carvi asked.

  “Just some guy breaking up with her,” I said. “I didn’t even see his face. It looked like they were outside at a house party. Nothing even big and dramatic. For breakups, it seemed pretty calm and fast. I mean, how many of us have been dumped by a jerk at some point in our lives?”

  “Must’ve been big for her,” Kat said. “I’m betting she was talking about him.”

  “Me too,” I said, crossing my arms. “But still, she didn’t have to be so mean. Grant and I are a completely different situation. And not all guys are that shallow and black and white.”

  “No, but it’s easier to say that than to deal with the fact that there was more going on,” Kat said.

  I nodded. “Cuz if it’s black and white, it’s easier to avoid doing it in the future. Because there’s just that one thing you have to avoid doing, instead of recognizing every person is their own complex world with their own issues and motivations. Yeah, I get that. I mean, I did the same thing back in high school when my jerk boyfriend dumped me.”

  Actually, I’d done a hell of a lot worse than just go off on complete strangers, but no one outside my family and Quil knew that.

  And maybe Carvi.

  Carvi stared at me like he was reading my mind right now.

  Okay, probably Carvi.

  “Do we have to stay up here?” I asked. “Or can I go touch the body? I’m thinkin’ I’ll get more off him. Kinda feel like we’ve played up here out.”

  “I’ll ask Grant,” Kat said, walking to the door.

  “You can’t call?” I asked.

  “No phones,” she said, shaking her head. “We don’t know who has what tapped. And until Dan can get through all that and make sure there’s some kind of guard, and until somebody magic can make sure nothing else is in place to catch our conversations or whatever, nothing over lines. Not even encrypted ones. Carvi risking it once was bad enough.”

  “I knew it wasn’t tapped then,” he said. “They could have gotten around the spells by now.”

  “This is gonna get old fast.” I crossed my arms and she shrugged as she opened the door and left, closing it with a click.

  “Carvi,” I said after a moment, not looking at him, “what’s up with Grant? I… I sometimes forget people are their own things with their own dramas and motivations and stuff, and he is, and he’s a guy, so…?”

  “I’m sorry, lea,” Carvi said. “I can’t say. I have guesses, but… I think there’s something going on that has nothing to do with you.”

  “But… I want my friend back, even just
as a friend.”

  “I know,” he said.

  I finally looked at him and his face was blank.

  “I keep expecting you to make a dirty joke or something,” I said.

  “Not feeling like myself the past few days,” he said.

  “Milo’s birthday coming up,” I said.

  He nodded.

  I stared at the floor for a while, finally snorting and looking at him.

  Carvi raised his eyebrows.

  “I just sometimes forget people are all the heroes of their own lives,” I said. “That they aren’t just players in mine. It’s a selfish mindset, and I’m workin’ on it, but sometimes I forget that people have these entire complex worlds that I’m just a part of, and sometimes some other part affects how they treat me, and even if I don’t like it, sometimes those other pieces trump them treating me how I want to be, or giving me the attention I want.”

  I shrugged, sniffing as something welled inside. “Typical millennial, right?”

  “Nah,” Carvi said. “Typical millennial wouldn’t be thinking about it at all.”

  I smiled.

  We stood there in silence in the barely and badly decorated room til Kat came back maybe a few minutes later.

  “Yeah,” Kat said, “come check out the body. Grant’s a little wary about having you outside, but he got Sierra from the magic shop here to do a general shield.”

  “At least he cares enough to want to keep me alive,” I muttered.

  Carvi snorted.

  Of course he heard me.

  Stupid vamp ears.

  ###

  Downstairs police tape kept the masses off the sidewalk around the body, but nothing could keep the crowds of Nashville from pressing up against the barriers, trying to catch a glimpse of the gruesome.

  Especially on Halloween, when the usual Nashville crowd grew exponentially, and it was a night to celebrate the macabre in general.

  Some people out here probably thought this was all part of some kind of street theater for the holiday.

  Carvi had grabbed one of the dead guy’s hoodies and put it on me without asking, pulling the hood up to obscure my face. The bottom hung down over my short skirt.

  It wasn’t a good look on me, but hey, it wasn’t like fashion was really important in the moment.

  Then again, it was important enough for me to notice how frumpy and square I looked in it.

  Which probably means I’m more shallow than I’d like to admit.