“I want to go get Eight. She was so upset over Nine dying. Only, I know she isn’t dead now. Britt died and Nine took her place.”
I blinked at him, my anger at Pete’s idiotic decision fading as I took in what the Animate was telling me. One of Britt’s clones had taken her place? “How did that happen? I mean, why?”
He shrugged. “No-one’s supposed to know. Everyone’s supposed to think Britt’s alive.”
I could hardly believe it. I mean, I’d glanced at the newsstands the day after she died and I had kind of wondered how her death had mysteriously avoided the headlines, but I’d just assumed it was some kind of damage control scenario with her management or publicist. I broke out of my thoughts when the Animate in front of me started kicking at a loose bit of flooring.
I shook my head. “So, wait. You want to go to Vegas to get your girlfriend back?”
He nodded. “Only I can’t. I don’t have a passport so I can’t go through the portal.”
“And you’re dead,” I reminded him. “They don’t let Animates through the portal.”
“Oh,” he said, like he hadn’t thought of it.
I thought of how we’d made Pete up to look alive and given him Mickey’s passport to get through. He’d been desperate to avoid recruitment into the King’s Guard. He hadn’t realised there might be worse things out in the world than being forced to serve his King and Country. Pete’s escape plan had gone awry, like I could have predicted if he’d only asked.
I folded my arms, remembering being at Britt’s mercy. Pete had come so close to being destroyed under Britt’s control. He’d never flinched. Damn you, Pete. How could you do this after everything?
“So… can you help me?” He was gazing at me hopefully.
I shook my head; I couldn’t go through this again. Getting him through the portal wouldn’t help him anyway. “There’s no way to get you through the portal.”
“You could go, maybe?”
I shuddered at the thought of it, though I did have a trusty magic-inhibiting charm right now that would keep me safe from any other magic using psycho bitches that might be lurking on the other side. Pete was gone now; no one had any reason to try to kill me. I bit at my lip. This wasn’t a decision to make lightly. Mickey was going to need me. I couldn’t forget that. He’d just lost one of the most important people in his life; two, if I wanted to count the so-called boyfriend who’d callously dumped him by voicemail. “I don’t think…”
“Please?” He clasped his hands together in front of his chest. “Even just take her a message. I just don’t want her thinking she has no-one right now. If Nine lets her come here it would make me the happiest guy on the planet.”
I kept my sigh internal as I nodded quickly. I glanced into the living room where Mickey was now lighting a cigarette and moaning between puffs. “I can’t leave him right now, though. You’ll have to wait. Write your note. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
Four – Mickey
It was like I was trapped inside a big transparent bubble. Everything was blurry and wonky and sounded weird. I lifted the bottle to my lips. The dregs dribbled into my mouth, tasteless and warm. The TV screen was playing my favourite show, but I couldn’t make sense of the storyline. Everyone seemed to be talking too fast, or in Chinese or Mexican or some other damn language that was sing-song and taunting and unfamiliar. My brain was probably broken. Everything it processed was garbled. Kit had been sitting next to me for the past two hours and she’d barely spoken a word. She just sat there, replacing my beers when they ran out and giving me sympathy smiles and hugs that only made the pain sharpen.
I’d lost so much so quickly. Pete had died, for real this time. The closest thing to a brother I’d ever have, and he was gone. Just like that. No warning. Well, maybe I should have known he’d do something so stupid. I shook my head just thinking about it. He’d killed Nick. He’d done that knowing what would happen to him. He’d known what he was doing and he’d gone right ahead and done it anyway, leaving the rest of us behind to pick up the damned pieces. Selfish prick.
Kit moved away and I checked my pockets. I needed something to calm my nerves and Trish wasn’t available for house calls. I scratched at my neck. Losing more blood probably wasn’t such a hot idea anyway. The living room door closed over, and I could hear Kit and that dead American friend of Pete’s talking quietly. Fat Dave wasn’t interrupting them. He was gone too; I knew because of the names I called him when I went into the kitchen for the beer. He didn’t fight back. He’d been inside Nick when he died. Pete had finally managed to get rid of his mean old kitchen dragon, and I couldn’t have been more depressed about it.
Everything had changed all at once. I finally found my lighter in my back pocket. The half-empty pack of fags I’d stashed under the couch months ago were still there. I’d taken them from Tim one night, not really knowing why. I usually only smoked when I was with him. I sighed as I attempted to light a cigarette. My breath kept blowing the flame out. Eventually, though, I got it lit and I inhaled to the burning sensation that made my muscles relax out of reflex. I’d never smoke with Tim again. I moaned as I smoked, wanting to cry, but I was all out of tears. I shook the bottle I’d just put down on the coffee table as Kit walked back into the room. She watched me with her big blue eyes, and I wondered why she was shaking. Oh wait, she’s not, that’s me. I leaned back in my seat. That was better. The room looked a little bit less wonky.
“Mickey? Are you okay?”
“I need beer,” I said, waving at the empty bottle as I sucked the last drag out of my fag.
She glanced at the empty and took it, but she didn’t instantly replace it with another. When I looked to find out why, she was staring at it as if she was thinking about cutting me off. Then she put it down and straightened. She picked up her handbag. Oh, god no. Don’t leave me, Kit. Please, I don’t want to be alone.
“You’re out. I’ll get more,” she said, smiling reassuringly as she made her way out of the room.
“I’m… wait,” I managed, three seconds too late as I heard the front door close. I slouched in my seat. She wouldn’t be gone long. I’d just have to try harder to concentrate on the show. The vampires were laughing now, sitting around in a circle, in broad daylight, laughing their undead asses off. I glared at the screen. What a bunch of dicks!
“Hey,” a voice made me jump.
It wasn’t Fat Dave, much to my disappointment. That cunt was gone, like I’d already checked. Don’t know why I got my hopes up.
“It’s you,” I said, turning back to the TV.
The all American Animate had come into the room and was leaning against the wall.
“I don’t know what to do,” he told me. He had a whiny tone to his voice that I hadn’t noticed before. “I’m free, I guess, but I can’t go home.”
Our problems weren’t on the same level. Hell, they weren’t on the same damned planet. I tuned him out as he continued to whine in the background. The room started to spin when I got up to escape his whinge-fest.
“Shit,” I muttered as I crashed back down to the couch. Darkness stole the world away and took me with it.
Tim was beside me when I opened my eyes. The hotel room was bright, sunshine spilling through the thin curtains. I recognised the shirt that was crumpled on the floor. I hadn’t seen it in ages.
“Hey,” Tim said, yawning deeply as he shifted positions to face me.
This was all wrong. I reached out and touched the scratches on his pale chest.
“You stayed,” I said, wondering why. It had been the one night he’d skipped out on me and not the other way around. He’d been acting a bit more sombre than usual, and I had freaked out that he might be about to tell me he’d met someone else.
“Of course, I stayed. You’re the one who always leaves.”
“I don’t mean to.” It sounded weak. I didn’t have a real excuse. I was afraid to admit what we were to each other. I couldn’t admit I loved him. It was too hard. It would
change too much.
“It changes nothing,” Tim said, shrugging as if he was sorry. I watched him light a cigarette. The smoke curled out from it, swirling with a crimson tint of magic. “I was always going to have to leave you, Mickey. This was never supposed to be.”
How could he say that? His gaze was blank as he stared across the room. He dropped the cigarette onto the bed and flames leapt upwards, roaring and sparking between us. I jumped back. He didn’t move. Something was wrong with him. I saw the blood on his chest. The scratches had faded, replaced by a wound that was much deeper and deadlier. He’d been shot. He wasn’t moving. I screamed his name as the flames rose higher, engulfing the room with thick, red, smoke.
Five – Nine/Britt
I watched in wonder as the man in my bed slept peacefully beside me. I’d just been with the King of Scotland! This was big news. I wished I didn’t have to keep it to myself. Eight sighed inside my head. He’s using you…
“Shut up,” I whispered. “Maybe I’m using him. Ever think of that?”
She stayed silent but I could picture her sulking, shaking her head at me like the real Eight never would have done. I didn’t care what his reasons were for coming to bed with me. It had been the best night of my life. In my defence, I’m only two, technically, in clone years, so I haven’t had that many nights to compare it with.
It wasn’t just the sex. He’d let me into his head. I’d seen exactly what he was thinking, and he was practically in love with me… Well, no, I know that’s not it. It’s way too soon for that. He just was really into what we were doing. He’d lied about hating Britt. He’d been attracted to her instantly. She just hadn’t been interested in him. I’ve seen the guys she was interested in; brawny pretty-boys with empty spaces between their ears. They were only ever just for fun. She didn’t like them hanging around afterwards.
I couldn’t understand that look she always got when she was finished with them. If she’d liked them enough to do all that intimate stuff why wouldn’t she want them to stick around? I never wanted this guy to leave.
You’re falling too fast again! Eight was getting mad at me. You do this every time. It’s unbelievable.
I rolled my eyes. I liked the feeling of falling for someone new, the rush of it every time I got ready for the second date, or the third.
There’s never a fourth though, is there?
“Now you’re just being rude,” I told her off. I knew the King wasn’t most men. He was a User, for one thing. We’d linked in a very personal way. Even if he’d taken advantage of that to find out things he shouldn’t have known, I couldn’t seem to make myself care.
“One more night,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss his shoulder. “Just one more night.”
He was going to leave, and I knew it. He was a King. He had a country to run.
His eyes opened as I kissed his upper arm.
“You’re awake,” I said, sounding like an idiot. He’d surprised me. Had he heard me talking to Eight?
He pulled me in close and breathed into my hair. “I have to leave.”
Don’t even, I warned Eight as I took in those dreaded words.
“Right,” I said, attempting to emulate Britt. “You should go before my makeup artist arrives. She’ll see you.”
He let me go and smiled. “Oh. Am I a dirty little secret?”
Something about the way he said it made my insides heat up. “Unless you have time for one last…”
He kissed me, and I melted into him. So much for emulating Britt.
He moved back and looked me in the eyes.
“I don’t want you to be like her,” he told me. “You’re not her.”
“I just…” I didn’t know what to say. It had to be the first time any guy had ever said something like that to me. Most of them assumed I was just some kind of poor-man’s copy of Britt; the next best thing to sleeping with her.
“I’ll call you in a day or so. I’ve got some business to attend to.”
I watched him get up, wondering if he was really going to call me. I felt my face flush as he disappeared into the en suite where he’d taken his clothes off the night before. I decided if he teleported away without saying another word that would mean that he wasn’t going to call me. The en suite door closed and my heart sank. A few minutes later he came out of the bathroom, dressed and looking just as handsome in his suit as he had the night before.
“I’ll miss you,” I blurted.
He smiled. “We’re bonded now. It’ll be hard not to think of you, wherever I am.”
His last kiss was chaste and I barely got a chance to enjoy the feel of his lips pressed against hers before he was gone. I sighed and lay back down. He was definitely going to call me.
Six – Pete
“Where are we going, exactly?” I was following her around the castle like a lost puppy. She’d stopped talking to me a while back, around the time I’d admitted that I never would have taken her home if I’d been sober, but I was betting she’d get mouthier if I told her I was going to piss off if she didn’t tell me what the hell we were supposed to be going.
She turned back and frowned at me before she vanished through a wall. It gave me the creeps, but I followed her anyway, shivering at the strange tingling feeling that walking through a solid object caused. The room was dark, like every other damned room and corridor we’d been through so far.
“What are you looking for?” I needed to understand this seemingly senseless trek. Was she just trying to punish me? I probably deserved it. No, wait. It wasn’t my fault someone had killed me. So what if she’d been an ‘innocent’ bystander? I hadn’t killed her. The guilt for her death shouldn’t have been hoisted onto my shoulders.
“Shut up,” she snapped, stalking off into the distance.
We were in some sort of corridor again. The only light was the glow from Angie’s barely clothed, ghostly body. I was glowing in the same way, of course, but I felt weird about holding my hands out to light my way forward. Anyway, I was a ghost; it wasn’t like I could stumble into things and hurt myself.
Angie had stopped and was folding her arms. I caught up and realised she was standing in front of some sort of cell. “Here we go. I wonder what landed him in here?”
I followed her gaze to where Timmy lay on some kind of bed. “What the… is this where he lives?” No wonder he was such a cunt.
Angie slapped me. “Don’t be stupid. The King must have locked him up for something.”
“How would you know?” I rubbed at my face, even though it didn’t really hurt. It was a constant surprise that she was able to touch me. “Bitch.”
“I saw where he lives in the castle. This must have just happened.”
“Hey. Why can’t he see us?”
She scowled at me. “You really didn’t read the manual when you were an Animate, did you? Death magic is different from the magic Users work with.”
As if I didn’t know that. “So what? Kit could see me. Why is this different?”
She shrugged. “She’s a Healer. It’s a specific skill set. Users can sense other magic, but ghosts can usually only be seen by Animates because of the death magic link.”
“Aye, okay. So what are we doing here then?”
She took a breath. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Like what?”
“Peter MacDonald, I command you possess Timothy Wallace.”
The command yanked me through the bars and into Timmy’s prison cell. The shudder of revulsion that tore through me at being pushed into the creep’s body was the last non-corporeal thing I felt. I stared at the ceiling through Timmy’s eyes, wondering when the hell my life got so damned weird.
Angie squealed and burst through the bars as I sat up in Timmy’s thin body. His hands were weird, the fingers long and cold. “What the fuck, Angie?”
She smirked. “Relax. It’s all part of the plan.”
“Aye, the plan to piss me off,” I muttered, cringing at the sound of Timmy’s voice
speaking my words. This was seriously twisted.
“Now, all you need to do is dig around inside this guy’s head,” Angie told me.
I winced at the thought of it. “You realise this guy is my cousin’s boyfriend, eh? I’m not digging around in his head for any amount of money.”
“Pete, he could be why you’re dead.”
I realised this was why she’d needed me. She knew she could boss other ghosts around, and she wanted to start with me. This mystery she’d roped me into solving wasn’t endearing her to me at all.
I scowled at her. “You get in here and dig around.”
“Well, I would, but you don’t know how to make me and I can’t be bothered training you on it.” She put her hands on her hips. “Now, all you need to do is focus. Think about what you want to know and he should think of it. It’ll be kind of like random thoughts popping into your head from nowhere, I think.”
I took an irritable breath. This sucked. I tried to concentrate. If she was right about Timmy I was going to make sure he never got anywhere near Mickey ever again. I might be dead, but that hasn’t stopped me so far and it’s not about to start now. I closed my eyes.
“Now, think hard,” Angie said. “Have you ever fantasized about Pete?”
I opened my eyes. “Get to fuck, Angie.”
Timmy’s answer was a resounding ‘Never’, but still, I’d rather not have had that hideously disturbing thought planted in my head in the first place.
“A dead girl’s gotta get her kicks where she can.”
“Stop talking or I’m not doing this, and you’ll never find out who killed you.”
“Fine. Get on with it. This place gives me the creeps.”
I closed my eyes. “Is it your fault Pete is dead?”
His answer was ‘Yes.’
“Fucking knew it,” I muttered. “Did you put a spell on Angie to make her kill him?”
‘She was going to kill him. It was seen.’
“What do you mean ‘it was seen’?”
Restless Spirits (Raised Book 3) Page 2