by Lyla Oweds
“But it’s different for you, I think.” Damen tilted his head, studying my face. “It’s not that you don’t want to talk about it, but that you can’t. That isn’t like our situation. This seems so unfair to you.”
Freaking know-it-all psychologist.
I nodded in response, because he was right. There were many things in my past I should explore—revisit. But I couldn’t put those memories into words, and the fear that accompanied those recollections was something I tried to avoid. It probably wasn’t healthy, but I had no other choice.
“You deserve more than hidden truths, especially considering your reasons for secrecy. But regardless, I’m going to go for it anyway. What you do afterward with the knowledge is your choice, of course. You can ask us to leave and pretend you know nothing—but we’ll still help you. All I ask is that you keep the secret.” Damen sighed.
He crossed his arms as he sat back in his seat. “I’ve mentioned before that our families have expertise in the supernatural world. The four of us are from different family lines, and each family has their own specialty—so to speak. It’s more complicated than it appears, which ties into details I cannot disclose yet. But I can simplify the situation.
“I am an onmyoji,” he continued. “The Abernathy family members are known as experts in the spiritual and demonic realms.”
My reeling thoughts slammed to a halt. His earnest expression made me feel like I should be impressed, but I had no idea what he was saying. This wasn’t a simple explanation at all.
“Onm…” I tried to repeat the word, and failed. “What is that?”
The other three men focused on Damen, trepidation heavy in the air. Damen, despite being offended at my lack of awe, grinned at my question. “An onmyoji is a practitioner of onmyodo. It is an occult-based science that uses Taoism and other Chinese practices. Some onmyoji focus only on divination—which I can do. Others have other areas of practice—which I also do. But my foremost specialty is conjuring spirit-beings called shikigami.”
I was still very confused. Finn had abilities, too—I knew from what happened earlier. But if this was a familial skill, did that mean that Finn was like Damen? Besides, that didn’t answer the questions I had asked.
“So,” I wondered, “can you can see ghosts? What is conjuring a spirit? What kind of spirit?”
“That’s a topic by itself.” Damen was still grinning, his expression lighthearted. He was probably pleased I hadn’t run from the room screaming. “I can’t see or feel the presence of what you’d call a ‘ghost’. Which is, by definition, a peaceful spirit of the deceased. But that’s a classification that exists only in a certain point of the process.”
“A certain point?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
“When a person dies, one of four things can happen,” Damen explained, touching the rim of his glasses. “They either head directly toward the afterlife, or they don’t.”
That made sense, but perhaps Damen was very bad at math. “That’s two things,” I pointed out.
He smirked. “If they don’t move on, then there’s three things that can happen—”
“But that’s three sub-classifications within a parent category,” I informed him. “So that’s still two things—technically.”
“Baby girl, hush.” He rolled his eyes playfully.
I pursed my lips. The least he could do was get the facts straight…
“The earth-bound spirits,” Damen continued, holding up a finger. “They are the spirits that sensitives and mediums would generally communicate with. They haunt the locations that were important to them in life. Generally, a house haunting is done by such a spirit. Usually they remain at these locations because they haven’t accepted their death, or because they have some kind of unfinished business there. Sometimes they act out to get attention from the living. But normally they are content to haunt the spaces around them.
“Second,” Damen held up a second finger, “are the most dangerous spirits. If a bad person dies, or someone dies burdened with negative emotions with no closure, then the negativity can warp their soul. Emotions are felt more strongly as spirits, and any earth-bound spirit is at risk if they remain seeped in negativity too long. The goodness they had—if they had any at all—eventually becomes overshadowed by evil. Their entire essence becomes demonic in nature. This is one way that demons are born, and they can reside either in this realm or in the underworld.
“And last…” Damen held up his third finger. “Are the unknowns.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Granted, the bad spirits were scary enough, but at least you knew they were bad. “What’s an unknown?”
“They are spirits who haven’t realized they’ve died,” Miles interjected. His arms were crossed as he watched the flickering flames of the fire. “Unless they become demonic, one of the strongest periods of a spirit’s existence—when it’s easiest to interact with the living—is after they’ve first formed. That is why you hear stories about families of the newly departed receiving signs from their deceased loved ones. Most spirits use that energy to move on afterward, and some settle to become earth-bound.”
“People who haven’t realized they’ve died,” Damen continued, “are stronger by nature. Plus, they have the potential to do both good and evil. They have no awareness about what they are. It’s a dangerous situation. They’ll find out their true nature. It’s inevitable. It’s safest if they learn after they’ve weakened.”
“But why?” That sounded wrong. I glanced between the two of them, certain I misheard. “You said that a spirit needs energy to move on. If they don’t know they are dead until after that point, wouldn’t they be stuck in that state—forever?”
“There are ways to help a spirit move on—certain types of people can help them. But they are rare. There’s also exorcism, but that’s rarely done. But if neither are options, then it’s best that the spirit find out after it weakens,” Miles replied, sounding remorseful. “Even the most mild-mannered people have the potential to react in unexpected ways. If you aren’t careful, you could easily be facing a demonic force that could destroy you.”
“That’s scary.” To say the least. There wasn’t too much for me to say in response to this information overload. But some things were beginning to make sense now. “What’s wrong with exorcism?” I didn’t know much about what happened, but the way they said it…They made it seem like it was something terrible.
“People with my types of abilities exorcise spirits, but it’s an unpleasant business.” Damen glanced to the side. “It’s something that is only done as a last resort. Outside of that, I normally cannot see a spirit unless it reaches a certain level. No spirit wants to risk being summoned by an onmyoji.”
“How do you summon someone—with a Ouija board?” The idea didn’t sound appealing to me. Generally, ghost horror stories began with a ceremony gone wrong, didn’t they?
“It’s different,” he said. “When I summon a shikigami, it becomes bound to me. I can send it on tasks, missions—whatever I’d like. I can also make it fight against another spirit or demon. Of course, there’s always a risk with owning a shikigami. They might not be willing to be yours. It is a practice that can backfire if the onmyoji is not careful.”
“Wait!” I almost jumped out of Titus’s arms as I realized the implications of what he had said. “The bird in the bathroom—was that one?”
I witnessed a battle and hadn’t realized it? If I had known, I certainly would have paid more attention.
It was Damen’s turn to look surprised. “The bird?” He and Miles exchanged a surprised look before he glanced back at me. “You could see it?”
Oh. I hoped it didn’t upset him, but he didn’t seem to like this at all. “I’m sorry…” I said. “I couldn’t help it. It was right there and quite colorful. I’d have to have been blind not to notice.”
The stunned expression lifted, and his mouth upturned once again. “The fact that you saw him means more than I can say
. It also seals the fact that you belong with us.”
Though I didn’t understand a lot, at least this was the beginning of something. But I knew I had a lot to learn before I grasped the concept of Damen’s abilities.
I glanced at Miles—and noticed he had been waiting to catch my gaze.
“I’m different than Damen,” he responded to my unspoken question. Unlike before, he was nervous. “I’m not a medium, either. My abilities—my magics—are earth based. I have a slight sensitivity toward spirits. I can vaguely sense those that are tied to places on the earth, but it is not the source of my strength. I’m a witch. And witches focus on the physical happenings of our realm.”
That was more surprising than Damen’s revelation. I gaped at him. “But I thought women were witches and men were wizards?”
Miles rolled his eyes with a slight grimace. “That’s a common misconception. Men and women can both be witches or wizards. But I’m only going to be a witch for a short time longer, anyway. I’ve been working my way up, but France delayed my education. I have a few weeks left. Graduation is October thirty-first.”
I blinked at him. There were ranks? They graduated? I had no idea there was even an actual school for this type of thing—or that they were real. What was this, Harry Potter? “What level does a witch graduate to?”
Mischief sparkled in his eyes, and he gave me an expectant look. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?”
So they really did plan on keeping me around. My heart thundered furiously, and not from fear this time. It was pure adrenaline. Joy. We’d been friends for such a short time, and they were already sharing secrets and making plans for our future.
I wasn’t sure how I’d ever be able to repay them.
I glanced at Julian, who was seated on the floor beside me. I couldn’t keep the eagerness out of my voice as I directed my next question to him. “What about you, Julian?”
His face darkened at my question and he flinched. He didn’t want to tell me. There was something—a deep hatred toward his abilities. I recognized it because it was the same expression I saw in the mirror every day.
I glanced toward Titus. He had a similar expression. It had slipped my attention before, but Titus was no longer a relaxed figure under me. His muscles were tense—as if he were fighting the urge to flee.
I recognized this for what it was—not a fear of me, but of the situation. A growing sense of kinship began to blossom toward both of them. I realized that Damen and Miles had come to terms with their capabilities, but Titus and Julian clearly had not.
It made me wonder even more about their supernatural powers, but I couldn’t ask again. It would have been intrusive. All I knew was that they couldn’t see human spirits. If they could, then Damen would have asked them about what happened in the bathroom.
Julian opened his mouth to respond to my question—despite not wanting to—but I cut him off. “It’s all right, don’t stress about it.”
The words died, and his worried blue-eyed gaze met mine. And I didn’t miss the glimmer of surprise within their depths.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I glanced between the two of them. “I’ll trust you, and if we need to talk about it later, we can talk then. It’s not a big deal to know right now.”
Titus’s muscles relaxed, and Julian’s gaze softened. Julian leaned closer to me, and his finger traced along the curve of my jaw. “You are perfect,” he said.
Julian’s voice was so low I’d hardly heard him. But I did, and I couldn’t stop the heat from rising at his words. He didn’t seem to notice.
“I don’t understand…” His voice trailed off as Titus interrupted, his velvety tones huskier than ever, “Just don’t question it, Jules.”
They both seemed relieved that I hadn’t pressed the issue, and Miles and Damen’s concern faded. The tension in the room dissipated, and the four of them began to breathe easier.
In fact, if I wasn’t imagining things, they all seemed relieved I didn’t pressure them for more answers. It was as if they thought I’d be upset that they didn’t tell me more.
All right, they could have elaborated a bit. That was true. But it didn’t matter if they hadn’t; I understood perfectly. They didn’t need to explain another thing.
The group of them were paranormal, crime-fighting monks that had taken vows of celibacy. Of course.
That was why Julian had told Damen to stop flirting. That was why they couldn’t have girlfriends. They had to maintain their innocence in order to do their jobs, and they kept each other in line. I wasn’t certain how Maria came into the picture, but I was sure that had been misconstrued.
I could totally do this.
After all, with them being celibate, we’d never have to worry about silly love triangles. This entire situation made being friends with a bunch of cute, sexy boys so much easier. I only had to control my own raging hormones, but I would survive.
This was going to be easy as pie.
Chapter Seventeen
Requirement
Now that we had established the obvious—that the boys were paranormal monks—it brought up something else I had been neglecting: the fact that we were supposed to be hunting a ghost. There was simply no time to lounge around half naked—we had a job to do.
Damen and Miles seemed to agree. That is, if the low conversation that they were having in the corner of the room was any indication.
My fear and anxiety—ironically—began to recede the longer I was wrapped in Titus’s arms. Yes, working with these guys seemed like a brilliant plan, now that I was dressed and had some more perspective. Besides, I now understood that Titus wasn’t the only scary one. Damen was also kind of scary. Somehow, I felt much more at ease because I knew they were looking out for my best interests.
“Okay.” I began to wiggle my way out of Titus’s lap, trying not to grimace as the movements aggravated already sore muscles. “I need to get dressed into something decent. Then you guys need to put me to work—you promised.”
Nothing escaped Julian’s notice.
“Hold it.” He sounded concerned. “We still need to get you something for your pain.”
“It’s nothing.” I tried to brush off his concern. “I’ll get over it.”
Titus’s hands remained awkwardly around my waist, giving me a steady rock to hold as I tried to keep my balance and not lose the blanket at the same time. “See, I can—”
“What in the world happened to your leg?” Julian’s shock rang loud through the room. Damen and Miles stopped talking amongst themselves immediately, and once again, everyone’s focus was on me.
I frowned, trying to ignore them. But when I let go of Titus’s shoulder, my ankle buckled. A spasm of pain shot through my calf. Before I could react, I stumbled forward into Julian’s outstretched arms.
“What the hell?” Titus was on his knees—I felt his unmistakable presence close against my back. “Are you all right?”
I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t move. All that ran through my mind—with my face pressed into Julian’s chest—was that I hoped my butt was not exposed from this horrifying position.
“What is that on your leg?” Titus asked, angrily.
If my butt had been in his view, surely he would have said something. My heart began to calm slightly, and I found myself back in Titus’s lap before I could regain my bearings. This time, though, my legs were outstretched and uncovered from mid-thigh down.
Thank God I shaved.
Damen and Miles were hovering behind us. Julian’s skilled fingers deftly touched the area around my ankle and lower calf. He frowned and glanced away from the bright red strip of skin to meet my eyes. “When did you get this—from Finn? How did I not know…?”
I wasn’t sure how he thought Finn could have hurt my ankle. But Julian did seem to have a grudge against him. Not that I didn’t. I was hurt, betrayed, and furious with Finn beyond words. But this thing between Julian and Finn seemed to go much deeper.
“No, it wasn’t him.” I watched the way Julian’s long fingers flickered over my sensitive skin. “It was that…thing. The one that Damen chased away.”
Damen frowned. “But what did—”
“It—he—touched me before I fell into water,” I confessed. “He grabbed my ankle and was moving…up.”
“He?” Damen narrowed his eyes. “How do you know?”
“He spoke—they both did.”
“What did they say?” Miles shivered slightly as he glanced at Damen. “I don’t like this, Damen. To interact physically, even with a medium, takes a substantial amount of energy. Let alone to leave physical proof.”
“We knew it could reach out physically—it already hurt her before. Now we’re aware it is stronger than we thought,” Damen said. “It won’t happen again.”
He then looked back toward me. “What did they say to you, Bianca?”
Shaking at the recollection and keeping my eyes trained on my clenched fists, I told them what had happened—how scared I had been, and the terrifying things that had been said. As I finished, there was silence.
Too much silence.
As I had talked, my hair had fallen over my face. Now I hesitantly looked up—unsure of what to expect.
Julian was sitting on his heels, and he, Damen, and Miles looked at each other. Titus, on the other hand, was barely breathing behind me. But his arms, which had previously been relaxed, were now as tense and hard as steel.
“She can’t stay here,” Julian said as he turned back to his previous task, which was examining my leg. “This is on another level, not just a haunting. I’m not even sure what’s going on, but I’ve never seen a wound like this before from a spirit. It resembles a moderate to severe friction abrasion. I want to treat it as such. But if it’s spiritual in nature, the treatment might not help. We might need to confer with Gregory.”