by Sofia Grey
“Hello, Dante. Why are you on your own?” She perched on the table, her legs swinging back and forth. I sighed and forced myself to be polite.
“Hello, Ingrid. I called you earlier, where were you?”
“She scared me. And…” The swinging stopped. She shuffled back a little, crossed her legs in front of her, and rested her chin in her tiny hands. “I didn’t feel safe.”
My hunch had been right about Screamer, aka Melissa. With luck, she wouldn’t bother coming back tomorrow night. “Why didn’t you feel safe, Munchkin?”
“I don’t know.” Blue eyes regarded me, an impish expression on her face. “Do you want to play a game? We could play something. I’m bored.”
“I’m tired, Ingrid. Do you mind if we play tomorrow, instead?”
She huffed, glared at my bike and then back at me. “He said you wouldn’t want to play. You’re no fun anymore, Dante.”
Did she mean Simeon? My head ached. I really didn’t feel up to the mental gymnastics of amusing Ingrid. Simeon arrived next, a tall and graceful elderly man with a shock of white hair. He always wore cream robes, and I’d never figured out where he came from. The Middle East possibly.
“Dante.” He gave a half bow, and I smiled in return, clamping my jaws together to prevent another yawn escaping.
“Dante doesn’t want to play with me.” Ingrid sounded cross. “And now she’s coming back, so you won’t want to play either.” I was trying to figure out why Melissa would be coming back, when the door creaked open.
Pink Cardie stared down at me. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”
I winced as she shone a flashlight directly into my eyes. “Why are you trying to blind me?”
She swept it away, flashing round the room, over my bike, and back to my sleeping bag, but not at my face this time. I blinked and rubbed my eyes.
“I heard voices.”
I struggled not to laugh. What would she say if I told her I heard voices all the time? “I was on the phone.” I sat up, and pushed the sleeping bag down to my waist. “There’s nobody here but me. And you. Is there a problem?” She hadn’t moved from the doorway, her flashlight held in front of her like a shield. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me, so I tried a smile. Ingrid and Simeon had both disappeared, not that she’d be able to see them anyway.
“What’s that white circle on the floor?” She stepped forward, the door closing behind her with a dull thump.
“Salt. It’s for protection.” I’m vulnerable when I’m asleep. Her eyes looked huge in the dim light from my tiny lantern, and I sighed. Sleep was looking more unlikely by the minute. “It’s Kathy, yeah? Why have you come back tonight? I’m really kinda tired.”
“Katherine. It’s not Kathy or Kath.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Yep, she was feisty.
She pursed her lips and scowled down at me, taking another step forward. “Tristan insists on calling me Kathy, but that’s because he’s only got a three minute attention span and blanks it whenever I complain.”
I laughed aloud. She reminded me of a cat with her fluffy cardigan, big eyes, and flashing claws.
“How about I call you Kitten?”
Before she could reply, my phone jangled from the depths of my rucksack. Her gaze slid to my pack, resting on the back of my bike. “Are you going to answer that?”
Busted. There’s no way I could’ve been speaking on the phone, stuffed it back in my pack and climbed into the zipped up sleeping bag before she walked in.
“Were you talking to the airman again?”
I ignored her, unzipped and scrambled out of my sleeping bag, and tried to reach my pack before the bloody thing stopped ringing. Failed. The missed call had no number recorded. With a grunt of annoyance, I dropped it back into its pocket and turned to stare at Kitten, only to find her staring at me.
1.4 Katherine
My face burned as I watched Dante striding to his motorcycle, clad only in boxers and a T-shirt. Boxers that clung to a well-defined arse and a T-shirt that rode up to show a flash of color on his belly and a hint of another tattoo on his spine. Jesus. His arms were graffitied enough, had he run out of room? On his left arm, a snake wound its way down to just above his wrist. On his right, I could see a wide band of Celtic-looking symbols above the elbow and a dragon on his lower arm, brilliant in blues and golds. Its eyes seemed to watch me as his arm moved, the muscles flexing. Were they gang symbols? They were unlike any I’d seen before.
He abandoned the phone, his dark eyebrows low and threatening as he turned to face me. “No, I wasn’t talking to the airman.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he scowled. “Was there anything else?”
All my life I’d rescued waifs and strays. Blackbirds with broken wings. Limping dogs. Small children who fell over in the park. Never a piece of hard core trouble like Dante. That poncy lot. I glanced down at his sleeping bag again. His bed tonight was a concrete floor. “I assumed you’d be going home with your girlfriend.”
He raised one eyebrow, but stayed silent.
“If you’d like, you can come with me.”
His other brow shot up, but I charged on before he could speak. Before I could change my mind. “I’m staying with family, and before you make any assumptions, you’d be sleeping on the sofa. But it would be more comfortable than this. And you’d have access to a bathroom.”
“A bathroom, huh? Is that a polite way of saying I smell?” His lips twitched as though he were trying not to laugh.
My cheeks burned. “No—I didn’t mean that.”
“So your family won’t mind?” There was that arrogant, couldn’t-give-a-shit smile. “I doubt if I’m your usual type.”
I scowled. “You’re not geeky enough. Look, do you want to come and stay or not?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I wasn’t talking about you, Kitten.”
“My name is Katherine.” I bit the words out, furious with myself at the flare of excitement in the pit of my stomach, the tiny part of me thrilled at such a hip and sexy nickname. I raised my eyebrows in a silent question as I stepped toward the door, reaching for the handle. I wouldn’t offer again. He might be a great medium—he might be what I was looking for—but he was still an obnoxious jerk.
“Yeah, thanks, I will do.” He graced me with a blazing smile, his entire face lighting up for a brief moment. “That’s really, uh, generous.”
I waited as he hauled on his jeans and shirt, shook out his black biker jacket, and stuffed his feet into tough, buckle-encrusted boots. “I’ll follow you on my bike, yeah?”
Ten minutes later we were pulling up at Ellie’s, a rambling farmhouse on the road to Camelford. As expected, the lights were all out—they were early risers. Dante parked next to my VW Golf in the graveled yard and followed me into the private suite. They frequently took paying guests—it was a great way to supplement the income from the farm—and I’d been allocated this self-contained flat for the duration of my stay this time. Closing the door behind me, I flicked on a series of muted spotlights and smiled at my visitor. I felt more confident with him on my own turf.
He placed his helmet on the floor, took off his boots, and lined them neatly beside it. Padding round the room in his socks, he peered at the photographs adorning the walls and shelves, eyeing the trinkets and ornaments. Even here, in an alien environment, he still acted as king of the jungle. His mid-length, brown hair fell roughly around his face, several days of stubble graced his jaw, yet he looked delicious. God. I’d been too long without a real boyfriend if I thought he was attractive. He was a thug! He wasn’t just from the wrong side of the tracks—he was the wrong side. No fixed address, according to Tristan. No regular employment. Tattoos. Piercings. Motorcycle. God’s-Gift-to-Women attitude. Get a grip, Katherine.
Funny how I forgot all that when he smiled at me.
He nodded toward the bedroom and fixed me with a teasing grin, the silver eyes glittering. “You’re sleeping in there?”
I nodded.
&nbs
p; His lip curled again. “And you’re sure you want me to sleep here?” He gestured at the sofa. “It’s awfully close to your bed.”
“You won’t try anything. You’ve not been paid yet.”
“Touché.” He looked highly amused, little crinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. “You’ve got balls, you know.”
“Oh?” I injected a bored tone.
I stood rigidly as he sauntered to stand mere inches away, close enough to smell his breath. Minty. “You’re afraid of me.”
I kept my face still. My heart was racing, but it had nothing to do with being scared.
“Yet you invite me to stay. And you came waltzing into the tower when you thought you heard someone inside.” His voice dropped. “Just you and a flashlight. There could have been anyone inside.”
“I’ve studied self-defense. I know a few moves.”
“Yeah?” Like a cat playing with a mouse, he extended one arm to the side of my head and rested his hand against the wall. He stood a few inches taller than me, and I shifted my eyes to meet his, intrigued by his posturing. “Are you playing games with me, Kitten?” His voice a sensuous whisper.
As his left arm slowly rose, moving to box my head on both sides, I smiled. And moved. Years of practice made for an easy grab and twist maneuver. I took him completely by surprise. One hand on his left forearm, I ducked under his elbow and spun around as I dragged his arm down. My left arm shoved at his shoulder, forcing him round.
A second later, with his face pressed to the wall and his left arm twisted behind his back, he laughed. It sounded genuine. I leaned on him a fraction longer, exerting just a little more pressure, then released.
He spun around, laughing, rubbing his wrist. “Well done, Kitten, that was awesome. Are you afraid of anything?”
I allowed a grin. “I’m not afraid of you.”
1.5 Dante
I liked Kitten even more, especially when she walked over to the stove and asked if I’d like some supper. I’d been rude to her, acted like a prick, and yet she just smiled and warmed up some soup while making a mountain of buttered toast. I tried not to guzzle it down. I wanted to impress her, without really understanding why.
In return, she wanted some questions answered.
“How come you didn’t go and stay with Nanette? She is your girlfriend, right?”
“Nah, we’re just friends.” Is she fishing? The idea of the well-heeled Katherine fancying me was amusing. Unless she just wanted to slum it with a bit of rough. Suddenly it was no longer funny.
“What was the salt circle all about? And those herbs you were burning?”
I debated how much to explain as I mopped the inside of my soup bowl with the last piece of toast. “Like I said, it’s for protection. Not every spirit is kind and friendly. I’m a kind of magnet for the bad ones, and I don’t want to attract their attention, if you know what I mean.”
Her eyes were huge. “No, I don’t know. You mean evil spirits? Demons?” She whispered the last word, and I smiled.
“One thing I’ve learned is that the spirit world is not always clear cut. It’s not like demons are evil and angels are good. Like in real life, spirits can be somewhere in the middle, a little bit one way or the other.” A memory flashed through my head as I spoke. I’d dreamed last night about an angel, a black-winged angel watching me from a distance.
Kitten pushed her empty bowl to one side and rested her elbows on the table, her chin propped on linked hands. Her gaze fixed on my face as she waited for me to continue, and I shoved the memory away.
“The sage helps. That’s a technique called smudging. Burning sage helps to cleanse the area of any residual spirit energy. It lets me start with a blank page, so to speak.”
“What would happen if a bad guy found you? Would you become possessed?”
Mischievous now, I leaned forward. She followed suit. With our heads close together, I murmured softly, “How do you know I haven’t been already?” then snapped my teeth with a noisy clack. She reared back and started to shove her chair away from the table before she saw me smiling.
“Oh, you… you’re teasing me.”
I shrugged and grinned. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” Remembering my inner-polite-guy, I picked up the dirty dishes and rinsed them under the tap, before loading them into the dishwasher. Alas, the interrogation didn’t stop there. Kitten fished a couple of beers from the fridge and raised her eyebrows in a silent question. “Thanks.”
Settling herself back at the table, she sprawled in her chair and tucked one leg up onto the seat. She cracked the bottles open while I wiped my hands dry. “How do you do it, Dante? What’s your story?”
If I had a pound for every time I’d been asked this, I’d have a fleet of Harley-Davidsons now. I bought myself a minute while I sank into the seat opposite her and took a welcome swig of beer. God, I’d love a cigarette right now. “Do you think it’s some kind of party trick? Like I’ll give you a list of things to do and the spirits just magically appear?”
Her intense gaze caught me by surprise.
This wasn’t just a conversation question.
“I’ve met loads of people who claim they can summon spirits, but you’re the first I’ve seen who’s actually done it.”
I shrugged. Took another slurp of beer. “Maybe it was a group hallucination. I hypnotized you all into thinking you saw an airman.”
“Nu-huh. Tristan has proof on his hard drive.”
Are they a couple? Surely not, otherwise he’d be here. Her amber eyes seemed to glow in the soft reflected light, and something tight inside me relaxed a little. I could get used to civilized behavior if it meant having supper with Kitten again. The silence between us was comfortable, and I felt irrationally annoyed when she tilted her head to one side and resumed her questioning.
“So?”
“You don’t have anything else to eat do you?”
Her brows tugged together. “Would cheesecake help you to talk?”
I laughed. “Okay. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to see people, talk to them, when nobody else thought they were there. I don’t know how it happens, or why me instead of the next guy. It just does.” I’m a freak. I took a long drink of the beer, relishing the cool buzz on my tongue, while I waited to see the distaste on her face. “It’s rare to encounter a spirit that everyone can see. We struck lucky tonight. And there’s no guarantee that we’ll get a repeat performance tomorrow. Believe me, it’s out of my control.”
Her lips twitched. She leaned forward and delicately chinked her bottle against mine. “Judging by how tired you looked earlier, you’ve earned your cheesecake.”
Confused, I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face. “Yeah, it was kinda intense tonight.” As I spoke, I automatically fingered my Talisman, secure around my wrist.
“That’s an unusual bracelet.” She stared at the faded lettering along the edge. “Is that Arabic writing? It looks old. Where did you get it?”
“Years, I’ve had it years. Can’t remember where it came from,” I lied easily. “You mentioned some cheesecake?”
Chapter
~2~
2.1 Katherine
There was no sign of Dante when I crawled out of bed in the morning, and I didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved. Either way, I needed to get my head together before the other students descended for our debriefing and planning session. As I stood under the shower, barely awake, I sifted through my feelings. I’d gone back to the tower out of curiosity, wondering if he would still be there, and hoping to talk to him alone. Inviting him to stay with me hadn’t been part of my agenda, but my gut instinct had been right. He wasn’t as fierce as he looked. I ticked off his good points in my head. Polite—check. Good table manners—check. Intelligent—check. I refused to go any further.
Was it possible Dante’s outward appearance was just a cleverly constructed front? Like me, perhaps he wanted to keep outsiders at a safe distance.
&nb
sp; I stepped outside in search of Ellie and Sam, tugging my fleece jacket on and yawning as I went. The sun was bright and already high in the sky. Sam would be working in the fields, but Ellie might be in the house. Dante’s motorcycle was still parked next to my car. I stopped, attempted to banish the sudden excitement flashing through me, and glanced around in a casual way, as though I were admiring the view.
That part of Cornwall was a gentle landscape, all rolling hills and meadows. The farmhouse nestled in a natural hollow flanked by ancient elm trees. The soft sandstone, cool in summer and warm in winter. The fields and woods deserved admiration, but I’d seen it all many times before. I didn’t fool Ellie, who watched me with an amused grin from the kitchen doorway.
“New boyfriend, Katherine? What will your father say?” Her tone teased, but I sensed an undercurrent of concern from my godmother as her eyes flashed over the motorcycle.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and squared my shoulders. “Don’t be silly. He’s my tame psychic, and before you ask, he left too late to book anywhere. That’s the only reason I invited him back.”
“Hey.” She held up her hands in mock surrender. “You’re not a child any more. And besides, he is rather cute.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Ellie broke into a peal of laughter. “You’ve never been able to lie to me.” She turned back into the kitchen and then called over her shoulder. “I’ve kept some breakfast back for you. And if you’re looking for him, he’s helping Sam. In the barn, I think.”
Looking for him? God, no. But I did want to say hello to Sam. He’d been at an agricultural show when I arrived yesterday.
I walked across the yard and into the giant hay barn. Always warm inside, it smelled achingly familiar and instantly reminded me of summer holidays long past. I inhaled deeply and reached down to stroke the cat strolling beside me. She flicked her ears at my intrusion, and then stalked away to sit in a broad shaft of sunlight and wash herself. I hoped Sam would be more pleased to see me.