by Ciana Stone
“No, sir.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Joe reached up to scratch the side of his left eyebrow. “Well, Mr. Lawman, I think a better question would be why you see me here?”
“What does that mean?”
Joe smiled and turned toward the door. He stopped just inside the threshold and looked back at Kade. “Why don’t you ask Gracie? Have a nice day, now, hear?”
With that, he walked through the door, closing it behind him.
“What the hell was that about?” Kade tossed aside the towel and opened the small closet.
Cia’s mouth went dry. She didn’t know if it was from the shock of him seeing Joe, fear at how to answer the question or the sight of his naked body. Her mind refused to choose so she opted for a question.“Coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks. Who was that, Cia? And why did he call you Gracie?”
Cia turned away, busying herself and stalling by pouring two cups of coffee. “Cream or sugar?” She kept her back to him.
“Just black.”
She doctored her coffee with extra helpings of sugar and enough cream to turn the brew to near white. Kade walked over to the cart. He was dressed only in jeans, zipped but unbuttoned, and his hair was still wet. He smelled like hotel soap.
Cia mentally kicked herself. How the hell could she be getting worked up over a man who looked like walking sin and smelled like soap when he’d just asked her to explain Joe?
“Cia?”
She took her coffee and sat on the bed. “Let me ask you something, Kade. Describe Joe to me.”
“What?” The question clearly surprised and confused him.
“Humor me. Please.”
He sat in the chair at the deck, stretching his legs out in front of him. She wished he didn’t present such a tempting picture. She’d rather jump his bones than deal with the issue of Joe.
“Mid-fifties, white male, gray hair, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt.”
Cia nodded, feeling the shock win out over fear and lust. How could he have seen Joe?
“Why?” Kade's question drew her attention back to him.
She stared blankly at him, prompting him to repeat the question. “Why?”
Cia was not prepared for this. She’d never considered that anyone else would be able to see Joe. No one else ever had. Not even the other mediums who worked for the Special Crimes Unit of the FBI where she was employed. Joe had never made himself known to anyone but her as far as she knew. So why Kade?
“Let me ask you something else. You knew the Bureau was sending someone here for this case, right?”
“Yes.”
“Did you check me out?”
“No, why?”
She sighed and took a sip of coffee, collecting her thoughts. “I work for the SACU. Do you know what that is?”
“Never heard of it.”
“Not many people have. The Specialized Anomalous Crime Unit is composed of—right now—eleven agents, including myself, and a director.”
“Why eleven?”
“We lost someone a few months ago.”
“What does the Anomalous signify?”
“Pretty much what it sounds. Anything that deviates from the normal.”
He was silent for a few seconds, studying her face. “You’re trying to tell me the FBI really does have X-Files?”
She would have laughed if she wasn’t so knotted up inside about revealing the truth to him. “Something like that.”
“So you investigate cases that deviate from the normal. You think this case fits that criterion?”
“It’s not always the case that’s an anomaly. Our agents are…specialized.”
“In what way?”
She hesitated, took another drink of coffee, and then set the cup on the nightstand. “We all have—abilities. Paranormal abilities.”
The expression on his face wasn’t what she expected. “You’re psychics?”
“No. Yes. I mean not in the sense that we all read minds or can tell the future.”
“Then how exactly?”
“Well, we do have a telepath who can communicate with humans or animals mentally. We have an empath who senses other people’s physical or emotional states. Some are precognitive, either via visions or dreams or sometimes just a sense of knowing that can’t really be explained.
“We have an agent highly skilled in retrognition and—”
“Hold on, I’ve never heard of retrognition. What is that?” he asked.
“It’s a form of psychometry and kind of like precognition but the person perceives the past instead of the future.”
“Okay. Sorry, continue.”
Cia nodded. “Okay, let’s see, we have clairvoyants, people who can see things with their inner eyes. There are clairaudients who hear things, a clairsentient who has the ability to sense the psychic energies of people and entities. There are psychometrics who have sort of a mixed bag of skills including clairvoyance, clairaudience and clairsentience that allows them to pick up information via psychic means from physical objects.
“We have remote viewers, who can perceive physical objects and people without the use of normal senses, and sometimes over great distances. Others have aura vision—a kind of clairvoyance that lets them literally see the aura or psychic energy around people. One of our agents can astral project, and we have two mediums—people who can communicate with the dead.”
He was quiet for what seemed like minutes before he nodded. “And where do you fall in this list, Cia?”
There it was. The question she’d dreaded. “I…I see dead people. And I’m starting to manifest other latent abilities.”
“You see dead people?”
“Yes.”
Kade frowned and got up to cross the room and sit down on the bed beside her. “And Joe?”
“Dead,” she replied quickly, then added, “At least I think so. No one else has ever seen him but me. Until now.”
Kade bounded to his feet. “You’re telling me that I just talked with a dead man?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s pretty crazy.”
“Well, you saw him, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. And he didn’t look dead to me. He opened the door. Ghosts aren’t supposed to be able to manipulate matter, are they?”
She shrugged. “Not normally.”
“Then how could he be a ghost?”
“I don’t know that he is, Kade. I don’t know what he is.”
“Well, you have to know something about him. He’s obviously someone you’re familiar with.”
Cia got up, unable to sit still and have this conversation. “Look, I don’t know what Joe is. When I ask, he says he’s Joe. Just plain old Joe.”
“And he’s just here to deliver room service? Come on, Cia. You’re obviously an educated, intelligent woman. And one with unique abilities if what you say is true, so surely you must have asked or tried to find out who or what he is.”
“Yes, Kade, I did. I ran exhaustive searches on the name Joe as far back as there are records and so far have turned up nothing.”
“So how did you meet him?”
That wasn’t a question she wanted to answer. It opened up doors that were better left closed. Actually, doors that were better left bolted tightly.
“It doesn’t matter how I met him or what he is. He’s just here and so far hasn't brought any harm to anyone. It’s shocking that he revealed himself to you. Why do you think that is?”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about you, Gracie. Why does he call you that?”
“It’s a short form of my name, Allagracia.”
“Alligracia Whitehorse? Unusual combination.”
“Hispanic mother, mixed white and Native American father equals mutt daughter with a screwed-up name.”
“Okay, so back to Joe. Does he help you on cases?”
“Not in the normal manner.”
“He doesn’t give you information or point you toward clues?”
“No.”
“Then what does he do?”
“Mainly just rag me about the kind of life I’m living and remind me constantly that if I don’t get right with God I’m headed for hell.”
That statement silenced Kade. He stopped his pacing, walked to the closet and started dressing. Cia waited for him to continue questioning her. He fastened his badge to his belt, slid his gun into the shoulder holster, put on his jacket, and jammed his Stetson on his head.
“That’s it?” she asked when he headed for the door.
He stopped in the act of reaching for the door handle. A couple of seconds later he turned his head to look at her. “What kind of woman are you, Cia, if you need a ghost to try to save you from going to hell? Just what have you done that’s bad enough for that and why the hell didn’t you warn me before I let you in my bed?”
Cia didn’t have an answer. At least she didn’t want to provide one. She could do nothing but shake her head and watch him leave.
Chapter Five
A howl of agony woke her. The feel of something cold and foul in the air had her bolting out of the bed, searching the nightstand for her sidearm.
What met her eyes would not be stopped with a firearm. A young woman stood at the foot of the bed, her arms outstretched, bloody lips moving as her empty eye sockets wept tears of blood.
He’s coming back. You have to stop him. He’s coming. Please.
Cia didn’t have to be told. Nor was she surprised when the girl’s spirit suddenly whirled and vanished in a swirling mist. The demon she feared and hated was here. The one who had nearly killed her, nearly broken her spirit. The one she had failed to destroy was here.
And he was laughing at her.
You think you can destroy me, you stupid cunt? There are plenty of willing hosts, a multitude of minds eager to know the ecstasy I offer. You’ll never stop me. You’re not strong enough.
You’re not good enough.
Hell waits for you, bitch. I’ll be there to greet you.
“Joe.” It was all she could think, all she could force from her lips. She had to have something good and pure to latch onto or her mind would spin off in the direction of that evil, searching for it, becoming it in order to hunt it.
“Joe!”
“Gracie.”
She whirled and threw herself at him, taking comfort in the feel of his arms around her. “It’s him, Joe. He’s behind all this.”
“I know, Gracie, I know.”
She pushed away, suddenly angry. “Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me walk into this without knowing it was him? I thought you cared about me, Joe. How could you do this?”
“Gracie, you know I can’t choose your way for you. Goodness knows if I could neither one of us would be where we are. This is your fight, girl, and it’s not just against that evil. You’re fighting more than him and you know it.”
“Don’t start with me. Not now. You know—”
“Yeah, I know. I know you won’t admit the truth, not even to yourself. I know you’ll keep hiding behind the stamp on that file that says what you did was justified—that it was a righteous kill—as if there really could be such a thing. I know that until you face the truth and seek redemption you’ll never be whole and you’ll never beat that thing. I know—”
“Stop it!” She put her hands over her ears, unwilling to hear more. “Go away. If you won’t help, then leave.”
“So you can run down the hall to that cowboy ranger and find comfort in his body? Is that gonna chase away the demons, Gracie? Or are you just gonna drag him down into the muck with you? You can do that, you know. He’s ripe to fall. You sure you want to do that to him? He’s a decent man. A scared one, but still decent.”
“What do you know about him?” She latched onto the diversion his words provided. “What’s so special about him that you want to protect him, Joe?”
“I think you need to go back to sleep, Gracie. You’ve got a job to do and morning will be here soon.”
“What is it you don’t want to tell me?”
“Good night, Gracie.”
There was no point asking him to stay. When Joe was ready to leave, there was no stopping him. But he’d opened her mind to new questions that allowed her to push her own demons back into the dark recesses.
She snatched up her room card and, wearing only a long t-shirt, headed into the hallway. Kade’s room was one floor down so she took the stairs. Since there was no one in the hallway, she made it to his door without being seen.
She tapped lightly. “Kade?”
There was no response. She tapped again, a little louder. “Kade?”
Again no response. She raised her hand to knock again and the door opened. There stood Kade, unzipped jeans slinking low on his hips, looking like a man who’d just been wakened in the wee hours of the morning.
“What?” His tone was none too friendly.
She ignored the tone. He’d been cool to her ever since they’d had sex. She hadn’t pressed the issue or tried to engage him in a conversation about it. He wasn’t interested in a repeat performance. She could accept that. It stung a little but she’d been on the other side of the coin too many times not to understand.
Besides, truth be told, she was a little relieved. Her night with Kade had replayed itself too many times in her mind for comfort. She didn’t hang onto things like that. She was a “love ’em and leave ’em” kind of woman. That was safe. Letting emotions come into play made this thing dangerous. And she suspected he would be purely lethal.
However, she had questions and catching him off-guard was the best chance she had of getting answers. The fact that he was annoyed might be another advantage. Sometimes anger made people’s lips loose.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Well, let me in and I’ll tell you.”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning, Cia. We can talk at the station.”
“No, this won’t wait.”
He blew out his breath and stepped aside. She entered and took a seat in the chair at the desk. Kade walked over to the bed and flopped down on it, propping against the headboard in a semi-reclined position. “Okay, what?”
“Why can you see Joe?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“I think we need to, Kade.”
“Oh you do? Well, I think we need to talk about why Joe hangs around you and what he’s trying to save you from.”
“What makes you think he’s trying to save me from anything?” She hated the defensive tone that crept into her voice and reminded herself that she was there to wrest information out of him and for that, she needed to keep her cool.
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You see dead people. I don’t. But I can see him. So he’s not a ghost. Yet no one I’ve questioned in the hotel has seen him. So, he’s not a ghost or a figment of your imagination.”
“Okay. So what is he?”
He studied her face for a long time before answering. “An angel.”
Something cold then hot then suffocating swept over her, something that had her bolting to her feet with the same kind of sick feeling you get as a child when you were sure the monster in the closet had escaped and was about to pounce.
“That’s ridiculous!”
“No, I don’t think it is.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Says the woman who talks to dead people.”
“He’s not an angel.”
“Then what is he?”
“I don’t know. Ask him.”
“I did.”
“You…what?”
“I asked him.”
“And?”
“And I want to know how you met Joe.”
Somehow, the tables had been turned on her. She was there to find out about him, not delve into the demons of her past. “It’s none of your business.”
Kade was off the bed and in her face before she could react. “I
think it is my business, Cia. You shared my bed, and shared yourself with me. You might be the poster girl for today’s woman—Miss Fuck ’Em then Tell ’Em to Fuck Off—but I don’t play that game. When I make love to a woman, it means something. I thought it did to you.”
“Look, we had a good time and yeah, it was great and I’d do it again in a New York minute but we just met and it’s not like—”
“Like we care?” He grabbed her around the upper arms. “Are you really that much of a bitch, Cia, or do you use that act to keep people at a distance? How did you meet Joe?”
She did not intend to tell him. That was her business. Not his. Then his eyes softened, along with his voice. “I know there’s more to you than that, Cia. I can see it in your eyes. The pain and fear are right there. I know you’re fighting something but you don’t have to fight it alone. Let me help you.”
His words undid her, broke through her defenses, and made her do something she hadn’t done in years. She cried. Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him. “You don’t want to know me, Kade, or what I’ve done. Joe said you’re a good man. I believe that. And a good man has no business hooking up with the likes of me. If you’re smart, you’ll toss me out and do your best to stay as far away from me as possible. I’m no good, Kade.”
“How can you say that?”
“I’m a murderer.” The words were out before she knew it and no one was more shocked than she. Once spoken they seemed to hang in the air, echoing over and again.
Kade’s hands tightened on her arms. “I see angels.”
They stared at one another for a long time. Finally, Kade spoke again. “I think it’s time we really talk, don’t you?”
Cia nodded. It was probably a monumental mistake, but something in his eyes made her want to unload the secrets she’d been carrying. In all likelihood once he knew the truth he’d run as fast and far from her as he could. But at least, just this once, she could be honest.
Chapter Six
Cia looked around the table at the people gathered. She’d spoken with her boss, Brett Wade, early that morning and filled him in on her suspicions about the murders. She believed that the murders were being committed by different people, but that in every case, the murderer was possessed by the same spirit.