Every Breath You Take

by Chris Marie Green

  On that down note, they left the room, along with Amanda Lee, but Twyla stayed behind.

  “Oh my Ga-od, sooo gross. We had to leave that chick’s body at Amanda Lee’s because of the rush getting here. Hope there’s no stink when all this is over.”

  She took off, and I absorbed that information. I felt for 10, the groupie. She should’ve known better, but she hadn’t deserved to die like she had.

  Before leaving, I looked around at the place where I’d almost been dead-meated from an ax attack . . . again. I should’ve felt a sense of triumph because we’d gotten the best of that dickweed Dennis for the time being, and we were about to get even stronger after we all gathered together.

  But all I could think about was how I’d called for fake Dean and he hadn’t answered.

  And I wasn’t sure he ever would again.

  * * *

  “Dude, no,” McGlinn said through his hair as he sank deeper into his chair.

  We’d just entered the happy house, escaping the dead of night outside, only to encounter the eerie wood smoke from the sunken pit’s fireplace in the middle of the room. Even with McGlinn’s dark hair covering his face, it was clear that his gaze was on Twyla.

  “Why’d this nightmare mess have to come back here?” he asked, probably using up his word quota for the decade.

  Twyla had flounced over to Marg, who was plugged into a socket to recharge and heal whatever injuries she’d gotten from Dennis. After saying hi to her friend, Twyla zipped over to McGlinn with a toss of her petticoats.

  “Gimme a break,” she said to him. “It’s, like, the mist’s fault that I’ve been way spastic!”

  McGlinn’s old ghost grandpa rose from where he and his wife had been float-sitting on their couch. “Now, hear this, young lady—no excuses this time. You and your wild crowd are testing my grandson’s hospitality enough by keeping extralate hours tonight. We don’t begrudge you the safety of being here in a lockdown, understand, but a smidge of appreciation should be in order.”

  Twyla backed away from where she’d been crowding McGlinn. “Yes, sir,” she said, duly chastened.

  Grandpa sat down next to his pale-haired wife, who ghost-patted his hand, even though neither of them would get a warm, thrilling sensation from it, like they would have as humans.

  On the other side of them, Gavin and Suze sat, but they were a study in opposites from the lovebirds. There was tension between them, but I could tell Gavin had been watching over Suze after they’d both arrived here. Someone had even bandaged the welt that’d been on her face from Dennis’s attack.

  Since I’d gotten a real blast of healthy amps from the car batteries Amanda Lee had put in the Bentley, I knew that if I materialized, I wouldn’t scare any humans with that split skull I’d had. It was still obvious, but not gnarly, so I revealed myself and rushed over to Suze.

  “How’re you doing?”

  “Fine.” She tucked back a brown curl behind her ear. “I got ahold of my car keys and drove away, but you saved me, Jen.”

  “I got you into that situation in the first place.” I’d give the world to be able to erase Suze’s memory of tonight. But that was yet another thing I couldn’t do, even as a ghost.

  Suze’s eyes were shiny, sad. “It just never ends for you, does it?”

  “It’ll have to end sometime.”

  She rubbed her arms and glanced up at Gavin. He was watching me while trying not to watch me, and I didn’t want to prolong his discomfort.

  I sent a long, sorrowful look to him, then to her, and thought, Please take care of each other, no matter what happens.

  I hoped they’d understood without my having to say it, and they seemed to, even though it was obvious that there’d been too many emotional injuries between them for a reunion.

  Sensing other ghosts behind me, I turned around to find Old Seth the cowboy waiting, smiling behind his dirt-speckled beard. Kalli, with her bike helmet and long, beautiful hair, was at his side, along with happy house regulars like Feng, Lee, Yul, and the graveyard ghosts.

  Amanda Lee had called McGlinn on our way up to this cabin and told him to spread the word about what’d gone down with Dennis Smith and to make sure everyone was ready for anything. And as I looked at all the ghosts and humans who’d gathered here, a twinge of emotion got to me.

  Family, I thought. I’d lost mine in life, but had gained another one here. How lucky could a ghost get?

  Kalli motioned toward the stairs. “The humans I’m guiding have taken over poor McGlinn’s bedroom for now. They’re bringing your human friends there in private, one by one, to cast protection spells for them. I have a couple more guidees outside, making sure there are positive vibes all over the perimeter. We’ll be in a safe circle.”

  “I thought you said spells can’t protect ghosts.”

  “We’re cleansing the property, not individuals.”

  “How long will it last?”

  “Hopefully as long as we need it to.”

  I tried a smile. “Any chance that one of them can call down a god or goddess to help?”

  Kalli gave me a wistful smile. “You never know.”

  I’d take anything her people could give. I didn’t even throw in the fact that the whole positive thing might not stop darkness like Dennis and his own demon guide. Just look at how the orgonite had not worked.

  “Thank you so much for all your help,” I said, meaning it.

  “It’s what we do.” She was as sunny as ever.

  Old Seth said, “Let’s just hope those spells hold up on the humans, too.”

  “Positivity,” Kalli said. “Say it with me, Seth.”

  He bit back a smile, then muttered, “Positivity.”

  A knock on the door made all the chatter come to a stop. Everyone glanced at each other, and any ghosts who’d materialized went invisible. Including me.

  McGlinn even clutched his armrests, a joint hanging from his fingers.

  Since Amanda Lee had shut the door nice and tight behind us when we’d entered, I wondered if there was still a way for any more ghosts—or humans—to get in. Besides, the Wiccans were outside, casting those protection spells.

  When no one got up to answer the knock, Gavin rose from his seat next to Suze and crossed the room with long, purposeful strides.

  I flew over to flank him, and was joined by several other ghosts.

  He peered through the peephole, then glanced at where my invisible chilliness was haunting the air. Then he stepped back from the door altogether.

  “Short guy in a Padres ball cap, wiping his nose with a bandanna?” he announced.

  From behind me, Amanda Lee said, “Ruben! He’s one of us.”

  When Gavin opened the door, Ruben only nodded at him and stuffed his bandanna in the back pocket of his jeans.

  “Amanda Lee here?” he asked.

  She arrived at the door and, without preamble, pulled him inside and shut the door behind him. He coughed, and it sure wasn’t from the wood smoke or his perpetual cold.

  Right away, his ex-cop’s gaze landed on McGlinn and his ganja. Then he gave a great shiver.

  “I might have a cold, but I can smell that pot. Also, it’s cold as a bruja’s tit! What’re we doing at this place, Amanda Lee?”

  She gave me the secret look we’d agreed on during the ride up and, gradually, I revealed myself to him. Slowly. Cautiously. Didn’t want to scare the guy.

  Moment by moment, his eyes got wider and wider.

  When I was done, he whispered, “Jensen Murphy?”

  I smiled. “I’ve always wanted to thank you in person, Ruben. For everything.”

  His mouth opened, but instead of saying something like “You’re welcome,” he collapsed to his butt, Indian- style, on the floor and gaped at me.

  “It’s okay,” Amanda Lee said, sitting next to him a
nd putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. Just so you know, this room is full of ghosts. That’s why there’s a strong chill.”

  A string of Spanish words—I’m pretty sure they were cusses—tumbled from his mouth as Amanda Lee continued to comfort him.

  Twyla wandered over. “Can I show myself? Please, please, please with Pixy Stix dust on top?”

  “Can we wait on that, Twyla?”

  “Oh, I guess. Damn.”

  Then I spoke to Ruben and Amanda Lee. “Okay, then. I’ll leave you two to discuss . . . ? Well, you know.”

  Ruben was still mentally deficient, so I dematerialized. Might as well conserve all the energy I could and give him a minute to breathe.

  Meanwhile, ghosts had gathered all around Ruben, mostly the ones I didn’t know that well from the graveyard, and I asked them to give him space. They were only supercurious about the virgin in the room, though, and when Twyla started shooing them off like my lieutenant, I turned around, ready to chat more with Kalli.

  But when I spied Wendy, with the same torn shirt and Hello Kitty tattoo from earlier today, plus Eileen Perez and her darling pink wardrobe, by the stairs, I went right to them.

  “God!” Wendy said, coming at me with arms outstretched. “I want to hug you!”

  She tried but she passed right through me.

  Scott appeared from behind them. “Wendy, you never learn.”

  “I don’t care. A hug’s a hug. Jen, how many lives do you have, by the way? Nine?”

  “At least.”

  Since Eileen couldn’t see me, she smiled in my direction, then perked up when she caught a glimpse of Amanda Lee and Ruben sitting by the door.

  “Thank goodness—more humans,” Eileen whispered before making a beeline for them.

  I could tell that Wendy had something to tell me. She motioned Kalli over, too.

  “So, Kalli and me’ve put our heads together,” Wendy said. “We’re going to stop that boy weirdo from taking you anywhere, especially a glare.”

  Kalli nodded. “Nobody should be forced into one. Ever.”

  Scott waved to Marg across the room, jerked his chin at Wendy with a grin, then floated over to Mrs. C. to say hi. Wendy watched him go, heart-eyed.

  “You were saying?” I asked.

  “Sorry.” She blushed. “Before we get started, let’s go upstairs. Somebody’s up there, waiting for you.”

  I’d had too many bad surprises lately to be excited by this news.

  “It’s somebody you’ll want to see,” Wendy said.

  So I followed them up the stairs, and they led me past Uncle Kevin’s imprint room and into another guest room where . . .

  My throat clogged.

  Louis and Randy were waiting.

  Or, rather, Randy was poking around the open closet, inspecting a box that held bottles. Louis was watching him and telling him not to disturb McGlinn’s booze stash.

  They both realized I was there at the same time, and I zipped right over to them. And, even though we couldn’t touch like humans, we hardened our forms and at least hugged, going through the motions, not feeling anything.

  But you know what? I did feel something. It wasn’t in the nerves that used to ride my skin, but somewhere, deeper in my chest, a spark of happiness.

  I drew back from them, taking a good look at Louis in his 1940s factory uniform, Randy in his sailor garb.

  “You,” I said, pointing at Randy, “are a stud.”

  “Aw,” Randy said, shuffling in the air.

  “And you?” I said to Louis. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you around again. I could barely function without you.”

  Even with his dark-toned skin, I thought there was a flush. Well, maybe not, but there could’ve been.

  “So,” Wendy said, bouncing in with Kalli behind her, “as I said, we’ve been talking, and we think we’ve missed a big piece of this puzzle as far as protecting you from this Dennis guy goes.”

  Louis spoke, and, God, hearing his mellow voice again really soothed that lingering mist in me.

  “While you were gone, Wendy and Eileen . . .” Was that another flush from Louis? He’d shown some interest in Eileen before . . . “Well, they’ve been talking about calling a higher, benevolent being to stamp down on Dennis Smith and his demon crony.”

  Wendy said, “Have you been in touch with that fake Dean of yours? I know you weren’t sure if he was good or bad, but what if . . .”

  “I tried calling him,” I said. “He didn’t answer.”

  Silence. Embarrassment. For my sake?

  I glanced at Randy, who’d seen me and fake Dean together and knew that there was some . . . tension . . . between us. He shrugged, telling me that he’d blabbed about that to everyone. Oh well.

  “I banished him,” I said. “But during this last dark-spirit attack, I summoned him.”

  “By what name?” Kalli asked.

  I paused. “He never told me his true name. Said it’d give me too much power over him.”

  Everyone exchanged the Look.

  Wendy ran for a backpack stored in a corner and pulled out her small computer, while Kalli spoke.

  “When you asked me about how I worked with the All, were you really asking about this fake Dean and his power?”

  “Yeah, I was.”

  Wendy had turned on her computer, whispering to it like that would speed it up. “Come on, come on . . .”

  Kalli said, “What if you called to him again, but you used his real name? Do you think that would be enough to bring him out of this banishment?”

  Understanding dawned on me. Could it be that fake Dean hadn’t come to me this last time because he wasn’t actually named fake Dean?

  Excitement—and fright—laced me. This was big. If I happened to say the right name and he came, what would we get?

  But did I have a choice not to call him?

  “What’s on the computer that’ll tell me his name?” I asked, thinking there was some robot program in there that could summon fake Dean. I mean, computers could do everything else.

  “Lists up the wazoo,” Wendy said. She was typing madly, and she set down the computer on a desk and turned it toward me. Unfortunately, all the ghost activity in the room made the screen go snowy.

  “Hate to do this,” she said, “but we need clear air.”

  “Shucks,” Randy said, but Louis and Kalli gave me encouraging grins as they floated out the door.

  Wendy bounded over to shut it. The computer screen was better now, still fuzzy, but readable enough so that I could see lists of gods’ and goddess’ names on a Web site.

  “Any clue what pantheon Dean belongs to?”

  “You mean, like, Roman or Greek or . . .”

  “Yeah.”

  “No clue.” If he was even a god like the ones Kalli had worked with as a Wiccan.

  “Then start here.” She traveled to the top of the Roman list. “Start reading, Jen.”

  I took a moment, my pulse flashing through me. Either I’d be able to summon him or I wouldn’t, and both options were alarming.

  But I needed him badly, if only to see whether I couldn’t ask him for his help at all. And . . . Well, because it felt like things weren’t as interesting without him around most of the time.

  Damn him.

  I raised my voice and went for it. “Come back, Bacchus!”

  Waiting, waiting, and . . .

  Nada.

  Wendy fidgeted. “Don’t forget the females, too, just in case.”

  It’d be weird for fake Dean to be a chick, but what the hell?

  I went to the next name on the list. “Come to me, Ceres!”

  Nope.

  So I kept going: Diana, Fortuna, Janus . . . And when I’d exhausted the Romans, I moved onto the Greek pantheon, the Eg
yptian, the Hindu, the Celtic . . .

  “We’re running out of names,” I said, starting to worry.

  “There’re more.” She scrolled down the screen. “Go!”

  “Come back, Freyja!”

  Who even knew what a Freyja was? Some Norse goddess. No way. We were grasping at straws now.

  “Thor, please return!”

  Nothing there, either, but who needed a magic hammer anyway? Okay, maybe me.

  Desperate now, I yelled, “Loki, would you please just come back—”

  Boom!

  The rest of the list died in my mouth as a cloud of mist filled the room, hiding a shape behind what seemed like a sheer curtain over the bed.

  A man’s shape.

  As the mist pulled back, an extremely tall, muscled myth of a male was revealed.

  First, all I saw were fathomless dark eyes; high cheekbones; sculpted lips; and long, wild, flowing dark hair.

  I’d seen this face before when fake Dean would get mad at me. But this . . .

  Wasn’t.

  Dean.

  Not until his form wavered and he began changing back into the human-sized blond surfer in a T-shirt and jeans I’d always known.

  He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops.

  “Looks like you nailed me,” he said with a grin that was all too familiar.

  And not.

  22

  “Loki,” I said. “You’re fucking Loki?”

  He shrugged. “You say that as if you don’t appreciate my great sense of humor or my shape-shifting. Surely you liked the wolf-dog I appeared as in Gavin’s dream, though. There’re some legends out there that say I sired a wolf.”

  As he ran a desire-steeped gaze over me like he’d never thought he’d see me again, I heated up. I had a body now, just like I always did with him, and those treacherous goose bumps were all over it.

  But when he sobered, I did, too.

  “Getting ahold of me changes everything,” he said. “You realize that.”

  “Yeah.” It seemed like the entire tone of the room had altered, too. My voice shook. I shook, still not believing this. “That’s why I called you—because if there isn’t a change, I don’t know how much longer I’ll last. My killer—Dennis Smith—well, he’s attacking my friends now, and I’d rather go into a glare than see Suze screaming from a nasty hallucination again.”