by Vivien Dean
“I only made it worse by convincing myself I was crazy.” Brody buried his head in his hands, squeezing his skull, but the added pressure that usually reassured him failed to do the trick this time. “I did this to myself.”
Cruz rested a firm hand between his shoulder blades and began to massage. “It’s not your fault. It was a perfectly normal reaction.”
But Brody’s mind was already filtering through all the painful moments of his life, trying to match those up with the events on his spreadsheet. Too often they corresponded perfectly. Like the time in high school when he got pulled out because his dad had been rushed to the hospital? A week of homework went missing and every clock he relied on suddenly stopped working. Granted, it all stopped once it was clear Loren hadn’t had a heart attack, but there were dozens more just like that.
As he mulled those, however, another trend began to show. The worst incidents followed happy periods. For instance, prior to Loren’s false alarm, Brody’s Academic Decathlon team had earned a spot at nationals for the first time in the school’s history. He’d been on cloud nine for days until the scare about his dad.
Getting dumped by Aaron. Same deal. He’d been in love. Convinced Aaron was the one. Nothing could get him down. Until Aaron did.
Slowly, he raised his head and stared at his computer. His data collection had been useful, but not for the reason he’d originally imagined. His safety wasn’t measurable by location.
It was emotion.
The ghosts or vermin or whatever the hell they were couldn’t thrive in positive environments. They did the most damage when Brody was miserable. They likely glutted on his depression and grief, then let him gradually start feeling better so his next crash would generate that much more fodder. The lab was a haven because nothing fulfilled him more than his research. Exposure to sunlight boosted serotonin levels. Being on a date was personal affirmation that he was worthy of attention.
Cruz had stopped kneading the tense muscles in his back when Brody lifted his head, but he waited a couple of minutes before speaking. “You thought of something.”
A declaration, not a question. Brody didn’t need to ask how he knew. Fate had already decided Cruz would be the one person in this world who would be able to read Brody like a Dick and Jane book.
“The lab isn’t necessarily the sanctuary we assumed,” he said.
Cruz stiffened, though he didn’t withdraw. “Is there any place you think is safe?”
The new knowledge should’ve scared Brody. It probably would have a week ago. But for some reason, finally understanding what the mystifying forces besieging his life were doing and how they accomplished those goals gave Brody a sense of peace.
He leaned back in his chair but took Cruz’s hand in his before it got trapped. Entwining their fingers together, he smiled.
“Probably not,” he admitted. “But having you with me, helping me figure out a way to get my life back once and for all, is an excellent place to start.”
Chapter Thirteen
CRUZ’S first priority was to get Brody to Etienne’s house. Even though it was only an hour away, arrangements needed to be made, starting with Mariana.
“I’m still not going anywhere near the hospital,” Brody avowed. “It’s not worth the risk.”
Cruz agreed, though it saddened him that he couldn’t introduce the two yet. “Stay here until I get back. It shouldn’t be long.”
It wasn’t. Mariana was still asleep, her temperature hovering around a hundred, and everyone was reluctant to disrupt her recuperative rest. After leaving messages for his parents, he called home and told Bella what was going on.
“You’ve never mentioned this Brody before,” she said.
“It’s still new.”
“But you’re introducing him to Etienne already.” Everybody knew they were best friends, though the extent of their knowledge of what Etienne did for a living was minimal. Private consultant was enough for his parents. Only Nick knew it had anything to do with the supernatural. What everybody was well aware of, however, was how protective Etienne was of Cruz. Bella still thought they would get back together. “You’re either head over heels for him, or you’re hoping he’s going to break you up. Which is it?”
“Why are all the women in my life so fascinated by my love life?” he complained. “You’re as bad as Mariana.”
“Because you’re nicer to us than Nick is,” she replied. “Come on, at least give me something to work with here. Is he cute?”
He sighed. Better to answer what he could and get it over with. “Very.”
“Smart?”
“Yes. He’s in neuroscience.”
“Oooo, a doctor. Nice.”
“Not the way you’re thinking. Listen, do me a favor and just tell Mom I’ll call her when I’m on my way home to give her an update on when I’ll be in.”
“Yep, he’s a big deal. You wouldn’t be making that drive for dinner if he wasn’t. Have fun!”
He hung up, but it was hard to be too annoyed with her. Part of the joy in family came from being surrounded by people who cared. Bella just wanted him to be happy.
On the way back to the lab, it dawned on him that he actually was. In spite of the guilt he felt about taking Mr. Weber’s money when he didn’t actually have any ghosts, in spite of his fears about Mariana’s health and future, his life at the moment was pretty rich, with Brody the biggest boon of all. There was a chance the romance aspect of their attraction might fizzle out, but they had common interests other than their science backgrounds. They might be able to pull off friendship if dating failed them. It had worked with Etienne.
He just had to help Brody get rid of these parasites, once and for all.
Rather than go through the whole visiting-pass hassle again, he called Brody once he was in the parking lot. Two minutes later, Brody pushed open the front door and scanned the area for where Cruz might be. Cruz pulled out of his spot and up to the sidewalk, idling while Brody climbed in.
The urge to lean across the hand brake to kiss him was great, especially when Brody shot him one of those shy smiles he was quickly getting addicted to. Cruz resisted only because Brody started fiddling with his seat belt, and then it felt foolish not to be driving away when they had plans to keep.
“Anything happen after I left?” Cruz asked.
“I got to give Evan a good lecture,” Brody replied. “It would’ve been nicer to fire him, but I take what I can get these days.”
Cruz chuckled, but those last words stuck in the back of his brain while Brody directed him to his house. Had Brody spent his whole life adapting his needs and desires to accommodate those around him? Maybe not his father; otherwise he would’ve abandoned a science career long ago. But his ghosts had certainly molded his choices, hadn’t they? Fairly dramatically.
It wasn’t until they were in front of the cute one-story house Brody called home that Cruz realized he could make those statements about his own life.
“Can I come in?” Cruz asked as Brody opened his door.
A smile curved Brody’s mouth. “Sure.”
He followed Brody to the door, ignoring his growing guilt. Brody didn’t need to know his reasoning wasn’t about wanting to see into his inner sanctum. That was part of it, but his primary purpose for going inside was to look around for any details that might be important for Etienne. Etienne might ask Brody, and Brody might have spent the past day and a half cataloging those very same details, but Cruz brought fresh eyes to the table. He might be able to notice something Brody looked past every single day.
When he stepped inside the house, he realized his eyes weren’t his most valuable asset here. It was his nose.
Though he tried to be subtle about it, Cruz inhaled deeply as he stood on the threshold and surveyed the tidy living room. To anybody else, the scents mingling in the air would seem innocuous. The faint whiff of Brody’s cologne. Citrus-scented cleaner. The musk from the leather divan. But underneath it was the same smell he’d detecte
d in Brody’s bedroom back in Binghamton—that sense of rotting damp and decay. Knowing what he did about the supernatural parasites that were leeching life away from Brody, Cruz swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. This was their presence. Strongest where they manifested the most often, the most egregiously. Brody was so accustomed to it, he couldn’t even smell it anymore.
Cruz held back on mentioning it. Etienne would want to know, but bringing it up now would upset Brody for the upcoming drive. There’d be enough to be upset about later.
It took Brody less than five minutes to pack a bag. When he stepped out of the hall that led to the bedroom, he was still relaxed.
“Do you want a quick tour?”
He did, but he was almost afraid of what he might find. “As long as it’s quick. We need to get on the road if we want to beat rush hour.”
The rest of the house was as clean and cozy as the front room. The kitchen was older but well maintained, as was the bathroom. There were two bedrooms—Brody’s and the one he used as an office. The latter would’ve been a decent-sized guest room if it weren’t for the boxes stacked from floor to ceiling that drastically reduced the available square footage.
“I promise I’m not a hoarder,” Brody said. “They’re all books. It’s my one weakness. I can’t bring myself to get rid of one once I’m done with it.”
Cruz believed him. Knowledge was Brody’s armor. He would never throw away anything he might perceive as both protection and a weapon.
The main bedroom wasn’t quite as tidy as the rest of the house, but considering it was probably the room Brody spent the most time in, Cruz wasn’t surprised. The queen-sized bed was covered in a patchwork quilt made of hunter green and brown corduroy, with a single pillow at its head, and a cedar chest rested at its foot, half-buried under stacks of clean laundry. The nightstand was cluttered. Three books, each with a bookmark stuck in the middle somewhere, were closest to the edge of the bed, while two alarm clocks, one digital and one analog, were stacked on top of each other under the lamp.
“Clocks always seem to die around me,” Brody said when he caught Cruz looking at them a moment too long. “I got into the habit of having two in college after I slept through 9:00 a.m. classes three days in a row.”
Made sense, especially for someone who needed as much control as Brody did. What he didn’t understand was why this room seemed so much warmer than the rest of the house.
“The air-conditioning is off in here,” Brody explained. “It gets too cold at night, otherwise.”
Because of the ghosts. Cruz was starting to think he would’ve lost patience with them a lot sooner than Brody had.
“Have you always lived alone?” Cruz asked.
Brody nodded. “Once I got out of the dorms, yeah, for the most part.”
“No boyfriends ever moved in?”
“One came close, but no, nothing ever got that far. I had a hard enough time explaining things for the few hours I spent with boyfriends. I wasn’t anywhere ready to do that on a full-time basis.”
Cruz let it drop at that, content to dwell in his thoughts as Brody locked up. He remained distracted until they broke free of Philadelphia’s traffic, at which point Brody started asking questions about Mariana and his visit to the hospital. The change in topic was welcome, and Cruz rambled about his siblings and growing up with a large family for the half hour it took to get to Etienne’s. He was almost disappointed when they pulled into the drive.
Brody looked through the windshield at the sprawling house and whistled under his breath. “I’d be impressed if I didn’t know fees like my dad’s paid for it.”
It wasn’t his business to discuss Etienne’s finances, but Cruz had to defend this one thing. “He doesn’t actually charge that much. The number he gave your dad was purely to try to discourage him when he thought it was a waste of money.”
“He still took the job.”
“Loren is the one who didn’t blink twice at the fee. If Etienne hadn’t said yes, your dad was desperate enough to look for someone else to do it. The next guy he found might not have been as ethical as Etienne.”
Brody still seemed unconvinced, but he shrugged it off. “I suppose part of the blame is mine for never coming clean with Dad in the first place. If he knew the ghosts were mine, he never would’ve been pushed to those lengths.”
“I doubt that.” Brody’s confused frown compelled him to add, “You don’t see it, but I do. If your dad thought you needed someone like Etienne, he would’ve spent a lot more money to make it happen.”
Brody opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it and offered a small smile instead. “You and your family bias,” he said.
This would have to be one of those issues they agreed to disagree on. “Let’s go introduce you to Etienne.”
Brody’s chuckle followed Cruz out of the car, but the moment he shut the door behind him, the lock audibly clicked. Cruz glanced back, unsure if he’d heard wrong. The Volvo predated the remote keyless locks that became standard issue in later years, so the only way for it to lock was either the key in the door or from the inside. Since his keys were still cradled against his palm, that left only one option.
A stiff Brody was trying to open his door to no avail. Cruz slipped the key into the lock, but when he tried to turn it, the key refused to budge.
His mouth dried out. Brody’s ghosts. It had to be.
He tapped on the glass. When he had Brody’s attention, he said, “Hang on. Let me get Etienne.”
A pale Brody nodded. Cruz walked around the front of the car to give Brody something positive to focus on rather than his current predicament and strode up to the door to pound on it.
“Etienne!” he called out. “We’ve got a problem!”
The door opened but nobody stood on the other side. “Thanks, Simone,” he heard Etienne say from the bowels of the house. Then Etienne himself appeared at the end of the foyer, leaning heavily against a crutch. He paused when he saw Cruz. “What’s going on? Where’s Junior?”
Cruz hooked a thumb to the car behind him. “They won’t let him out.”
“Big babies,” Etienne muttered, though it was so low Cruz had to strain to hear him. “What’s it look like, Simone?”
Each second pounded in Cruz’s ears as he waited for Simone to respond. Never before had he wished harder that he could hear whatever it was she said to Etienne. Especially since it seemed to take forever this time.
Etienne clenched his jaw. “They’re not hurting him, are they?”
Cruz almost answered before he understood the question wasn’t directed at him. His head whipped around in panic. Brody was exactly as he’d left him, staring helplessly out the passenger window.
“Seems like Junior’s hitchhikers aren’t keen on letting him have a visit,” Etienne said.
“So make them stop,” Cruz snapped.
“The driveway isn’t protected like the rest of the property.”
“Why not? You knew we were coming!”
“Because I don’t like having to jog half a mile just to pick up my mail,” Etienne replied. “Just like I’m sure you don’t like having to park that far away every time you want to have a little visit.”
“Simone can’t do anything about it?”
“Not out there, she can’t. It’s—Simone!”
A cool blast seared across Cruz’s cheek. Etienne lurched forward to chase after her, but when he nearly tripped over his crutch, Cruz ran inside to catch him.
“They hurt her, and it’s game over,” Etienne hissed.
Etienne’s muscles were locked in fury, the deadly look on his face scarier than anything Cruz had ever seen before. Cruz ignored the frisson of fear—this was Etienne, for God’s sake, he’d never hurt him—and helped him hobble closer to the doorway. Before they reached it, the car’s horn split the air.
They both winced at its unrelenting treble. In the car, Brody had his hands over his ears, his lips forming words Cruz wouldn’t have been able to hear e
ven without the din. Whatever he was saying seemed to do the trick, though, because the blast of noise disappeared moments before Etienne slumped against him.
“I need to sit down,” Etienne said.
There was nowhere suitable in the foyer. Cruz hauled him into the nearby study and carefully eased him onto the overstuffed couch against the wall.
Sweat beaded along Etienne’s brow and upper lip. “Thanks.” He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “You better go see to Junior.”
Cruz didn’t have to be told twice. He ran back out to the car, but when he tested the door, it was still locked.
Brody gazed up at him through the window. The desolation was back in his eyes. “I always thought it was a long shot.” His voice was muffled, but at least Cruz could hear him now. “Tell Etienne and whoever the girl was that I’m sorry.”
Maybe it wasn’t as clear as he thought. “Did you say girl?”
Brody nodded and pointed at the house. “The one who answered the door. They didn’t hurt her, did they?”
Hell, he’d seen Simone. “No,” Cruz replied. Now was not the time to explain about her natural state. “She’s used to it.”
“She seems pretty badass. I can see why you thought Etienne could actually help if that’s the kind of people he hangs around with.”
“What did you say to make the horn stop?”
Brody’s gaze slid sideways. “I told them we’d leave. That I’d go back to Philadelphia as long as they stopped bothering these people.”
He was making promises to protect everybody but himself. Cruz had never hated anyone like these ghosts in his entire life.
“I’m going to talk to Etienne and tell him what’s going on.” He pressed a hand to the window. His heart twisted when Brody pressed his to the opposite side. “These guys are going to let me drive you back, right?”
“Better that than trying to explain why there’s nobody behind the wheel in case we get stopped.”
Cruz smiled at his bad attempt at humor. “Be right back.”
Etienne had a half-empty bottle of water in his hand when Cruz went back inside. His color was better too, though he sagged into the corner of the couch. “Good news,” he said. “I just look like something the cat dragged in. No actual damage done.”