Craving

by Sofia Grey

  There was no sign of them in the barn, but I heard a chinking sound from the machinery shed next door and followed the noise. There they were, dissecting some piece of farm equipment. It looked vicious—multi-pronged and bladed. Sam bent over the guts of it, poking at it with a long tool. The pair of skinny black jeans sticking out underneath belonged to Dante—I recognized the buckles on the boots. Intrigued, I joined them. Sam heard me, looked round, and beamed a huge smile.

  “Katherine. Come here, Petal.” He abandoned the tool with a clatter and swept me into a bear hug, lifting me right off the ground.

  I laughed and hugged him back.

  “How long is it since you’ve been to visit?” He let me slither to the ground again and ruffled my still-damp hair in an affectionate gesture.

  “I’m not sure. Easter break, maybe?”

  “Don’t leave it so long next time. Ellie missed you something rotten.”

  I could feel Dante’s penetrating stare. Distracted, I hastened to listen to Sam talking about some new organic crops he was trying this year.

  “And your boy has been very helpful this morning. He’s a genius with engines.”

  I glanced at Dante. He sat on the dusty floor, grinning up at us, a smear of oil decorating his cheekbone. His tats were clearly visible under the short sleeves of his T-shirt. Mesmerized, I stared again at the dragon. The eyes seemed to flash in the sunlight.

  “It’s a quick fix, Mr. Corbett. A couple of new gaskets and I can have this up and running in a few hours.”

  “Where did you learn to fix farm machinery?” I smiled to soften my words.

  “It’s an engine. I restored my Bonneville myself. I’ve got a good understanding about how things work.”

  “Bonneville?”

  “Triumph Bonneville—my bike. It’s a classic.” He shook his head in mock disbelief. “I’m sorry, I forgot. Your usual boyfriends probably drive Porsches.”

  His cheek—the inference that he was my boyfriend—astounded me. For a moment, I was speechless. Beside me, Sam chuckled. “You’re right there, lad.”

  “Sam!”

  He gave me another quick hug. “We were just about to break for coffee. You coming in?”

  I happily linked arms with Sam to chat as we walked across the yard. Dante drifted close behind us, his boots crunching on the gravel. Back at the kitchen, he accepted a mug of coffee, but sat outside with it, smoking a cigarette while I caught up with Ellie and picked at some breakfast.

  “Your boy might be hungry. Here, take him some food.” Ellie handed me a giant bacon sandwich and shooed me outside, her smile innocent.

  From his position, sprawled on the stone doorstep, Dante smiled up at me, his silver eyes squinting in the sunlight. “You have a halo behind you.” He accepted the food eagerly. “Yep, definitely an angel. Thanks, Kitten.”

  I leaned against the wall, watching the speed with which he devoured the sandwich. “Did you tell Sam you were my boyfriend?” It came out sharper than I intended.

  He raised his eyebrows, chewing and swallowing before he replied. “No, he just assumed.”

  “Didn’t you explain?” I took a quick breath and calmed my voice. “Why did you let him think that?”

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d told him.” He made it sound reasonable. “So I just played along.” He ran one finger through the crumbs on the plate, scooping them into his mouth. “He, uh, asked if I’d met your father, and I said ‘No, not yet.’”

  God. I sank to a crouch beside him. I’d never brought a guy here before. I could see why Sam thought he might be special, but if Dad thought I was seeing someone… I shuddered at the thought. “I’ll make sure Sam and Ellie understand.”

  “Okay, boss.” His face shuttered, the eyes now flinty as they glared at me. I’d hit a nerve somewhere. Realizing I’d offended him, I tried to make amends.

  “The others are coming over to talk about last night. I was hoping you’d join us.”

  He stood up and stretched, the tats rippling. “As I recall, you’re only paying me for the séances. And I’m covering my bed and board by helping with the thresher.” The look he gave me was cold. “Same time back at the tower tonight?”

  I could only watch helplessly as he sauntered back to the machine shed.

  2.2 Dante

  Sam and I worked all afternoon on his thresher, finally getting it running again just as Ellie shouted us in for dinner. He’d been surprisingly good company, although he’d pointedly avoided any talk about Katherine. I left their farm with a full belly and a standing invitation to come and help with casual labor whenever I was in the area. I didn’t have anywhere else to stay tonight, so I’d crash in a corner of the barn and then head out tomorrow after breakfast.

  I hadn’t seen Katherine since this morning, when, to her horror, I teased about being her boyfriend. Her revulsion had been clear enough, and it continued to gnaw at me. Why was I getting so bothered? She was just a posh chick that needed a psychic. True, she was a hard-assed babe with curves screaming to be touched, and a feisty attitude that turned me on, but nothing else.

  * * * *

  Nanette waited for me outside the control tower, smoking furiously. With quick, nervy movements, she stubbed out her cigarette and ground it underfoot. I greeted her with a hug. She clung to me and pressed her face into my neck.

  “Hey, Nan. What’s the matter, hun?”

  “Bloody Ash.” She stayed a moment longer, drew a deep, shuddering breath and pushed back from me, wiping her eyes. In the twilight gloom, I could see they were puffy and swollen.

  “Ash?”

  “He’s being a prick! And…” Her chest heaved. I held her hand while she dragged herself back under control. “And he’s messing me around. I never know where I am with him.”

  I gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re both my friends, Nan. I won’t take sides.”

  I held her a moment longer, and watched over her shoulder as Katherine approached. She gave me a half-smile and tapped her watch before turning and heading into the tower. I felt an irrational desire to stick my tongue out at her back. I was good enough to contact her spirits, and help her godfather. But even the thought of anything more disgusted her. She thinks I’m a freak.

  Nan helped me with the setup while the students took their seats. She used her Zippo to light the candles and set the sage leaves smoldering while I traced a wide circle of salt around the perimeter of the table and chairs. Last night had been an effort, leaving me exhausted and wide open to danger. I’d make use of every protection available tonight.

  Ingrid and Simeon still refused to make contact, even though Melissa had stayed away. With a sense of resignation, I closed my eyes and hummed my way through my focus rituals while grounding myself. As yesterday, Nan held one hand, Katherine the other. I knew they all had high expectations for tonight’s session. No pressure at all.

  I called specifically for Sergeant Jackson. Nothing. I called for the spirits… Nothing at first, then when I called again, I smelled a strange odor. I sniffed cautiously, eyes still held shut. An animal smell. Horses? I kept my voice low, my body relaxed, my mind searching on a higher plane, tendrils of consciousness drifting outwards. And there it was. I felt the moment my mind brushed up against it and my neck tingled at the same time.

  Katherine’s shocked gasp and the way she squeezed my hand, anchored me. I opened my eyes, expecting to see another airman, and blinked in surprise. There in front of us, stood a cowboy. Tall, wearing a leather duster, his head covered with a brown, broad brimmed hat. He swaggered toward us, the duster falling open to reveal chaps and boots with spurs. They jingled with each step. The horse smell became more pungent as he approached.

  I glanced left and right. All eyes were fixed on the stranger before us. A cowboy? In a 1940’s aerodrome? As I opened my mouth to greet him, he stopped abruptly and swept off his hat, slapping it against his thigh. A cloud of dust blossomed.

  “Well, howdy. Y’all look mighty surprised to see me
.” His accent came straight out of a classic western movie, the voice gravelly. “The name’s Chase Ambrose. And who might you be?”

  O-kay. I decided to roll with it. “I am Dante, and I thank you for joining us. Where do you come from, Chase?”

  As I spoke, I assessed how clear this spirit appeared. He could have been flesh and blood—a trickle of perspiration across his brow, dirt under his fingernails… I’d never summoned this precisely before. Little pinpricks of pain in my temples confirmed something was very wrong with this.

  “I hail from San Francisco.”

  “Do you wish to speak to us? Have you a message?”

  His mouth opened. One hand stretched out toward me, his lips moving, skin paling, his body rippling as though in a strong wind. I took a deep breath. The physical effort of holding the connection was akin to lifting up my Bonneville and holding it off the ground. My shoulders trembled under the strain. I broke out in a sweat, and still this cowboy shivered in the middle of the room, trying to speak. Any moment and I’d lose him.

  “Help me.” It came out as a strangled gasp before he vanished.

  It felt as though I’d been socked in the back with a piece of steel. Every atom of air in my lungs whooshed out, and I face-planted on the table, breaking the hand connection in the process. I heard Katherine cry out, and Nan gasped my name as blackness came up to meet me.

  2.3 Katherine

  Christ, that had to have hurt. We all sat frozen while Nanette leaned over Dante, rubbing his back with one hand and speaking to him in a low murmur. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, he lay so still.

  I found my voice. “Is he okay?” He still hadn’t moved.

  “I don’t know.” There was a note of panic in her voice. “He’s not back yet.” Back? Then as Tristan and Chaz stood, moving toward the bank of equipment, Nanette yelled. “Stop! Don’t break the circle.”

  Tristan paused, but Chaz had already stepped outside the white line of salt. He looked back at us, eyes wide in the dim light.

  Nanette looked up at Chaz. “Didn’t you hear me? Get back inside the circle.”

  “But, we’re not holding hands anymore.”

  There was a split second where we all just looked at each other, and then Dante rose, head snapping upright, back straight. He shrugged off Nanette and stood, swaying gently back and forth.

  I leaned toward him, intending to speak, but Nanette shook her head at me. “No,” she mouthed, her face tight with fear.

  Dante seemed to zero in on Chaz, his focus absolute. “Hello, Chazzy. Long time no see.” He was speaking, but not in his own voice. This was a woman’s voice. She sounded young, cultured—bored even. I stared in amazement.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nanette beckoning to Chaz, trying to get him back inside the circle. Meanwhile, Dante stepped away from the table, mere inches away from the line of salt. The candles flickered, their flames were dancing as though caught in a breeze. If I’d thought it cold when the airman appeared, that was nothing in comparison to the chill encasing us now. I half-expected to see icicles forming. As Dante moved, a white mist trailed in his wake, tendrils spreading over the floor, reaching out in all directions. I instinctively pulled my feet back.

  Chaz frowned, his face creasing up. “What’s going on?” With his eyes fixed on Dante, he backed up, bumping into the rack of portable shelving.

  “I used to visit you in your dreams. Surely, you haven’t forgotten me.” Dante strolled across the floor, easily stepping over the salt line. Chaz just stared, fists bunched at his sides and mouth dropped open.

  I wanted to say something, to call Dante back, but I couldn’t move. My lungs continued to inflate, but I could have been stuck in quicksand for all the control I had over my body. The woman’s voice continued to pour from Dante’s mouth.

  “Together we planned how we’d kill your father. But then you had second thoughts.” Dante had almost reached Chaz, one hand lifting as though to touch him.

  I watched, frozen, until Nanette moved. Leaping up, she yelled, “For fuck’s sake! Get back in the fucking circle, Chaz. Now!” As if a spell had been broken, Chaz looked directly at her, then whirled back to the equipment. He started flicking switches, running his hands over the control panel, and Tristan shifted in his seat beside me.

  “I’ll find you, Chazzy. I’ll always find you.” That unreal, girly voice coming from Dante. Last night, he’d joked about possession… This was no joke.

  My heart raced. I’d gone from feeling anxious to petrified in an instant. I grabbed Nanette’s arm. “What’s happening? Dante?”

  She covered my hand with her own. I felt her trembling. “I don’t know. But this is not good.”

  “What the fuck? He’s shutting down the fucking feeds!” Tristan shouted, furious, but Nanette ignored him.

  She gazed at Dante, and I followed her stare. He turned around slowly to face us and my heart nearly stopped. His eyes flashed bright red. It was as though I’d stepped into a Stephen King novel.

  I dug my fingers into Nanette’s arm. “Do something. Please.”

  Dante smiled at us. Or at least, his mouth moved in an approximation of a smile.

  Behind him, Chaz groaned—a long shuddering gasp as he slumped over the equipment. Lucy scrambled to her feet, hands twisting as she wailed his name. Tristan stepped right up to Nanette. “What has he done? He’s killing the fucking data.”

  For a few seconds, it was chaos. Anger and fear raged all around me, but my entire focus was on Dante. I thought I could see him—the real him underneath this macabre shell—as though he called to me. I heard him whisper my name. Kitten. My nickname. His voice is inside my head.

  I snapped back to reality. Dante’s eyes rolled up and he staggered, then dropped to one knee and sprawled across the floor. He landed with a thump, scattering salt crystals over the floor. I held my breath. Was it over? Apparently, Nanette thought so. She dived for him, and again I followed.

  “God, Chuckles. You gave me a fright.” Nanette dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her body.

  An icy chill surrounded him. Violent shivers racked his body, his teeth were chattering a noisy rattle, but when his eyes flickered open, they were his usual silver color. “Protection.” It came out as a whisper—to me. “Did you stay inside the circle?”

  I nodded, my arms wrapped around myself. “But Chaz left it.”

  “Shee-it.” His face was gaining some color, the shivers receding. “Is he okay?”

  Tristan’s fury was evident as he yelled at Chaz. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, Chaz, you arsehole! You’ve wiped every fucking minute of tonight’s show. What the fuck were you thinking?”

  As Chaz stammered a reply I couldn’t hear, Nanette rubbed her forehead and cleared her throat. “Tristan. Listen to me. It wasn’t his fault.”

  The vicious argument faded into the background as though Dante and I sat in the eye of the storm, a tiny moment of calm between us. His eyes held mine, that unearthly translucence, and I couldn’t look away. When he raised one hand to me, I caught it in my own, squeezing his fingers. I felt connected to him in a way I couldn’t quantify, couldn’t explain.

  I just needed to touch him.

  2.4 Dante

  Things were a little hazy. I lay on the floor of the control tower, Nan and Katherine were fussing over me while people shouted in the background. At some point, they half-dragged me out to a car—and fastened me in the passenger seat. When I tried to ask about my bike, Nan told me they’d load it into the van. I blacked out again, waking up when a blast of fresh air hit my face. Ker-rist, I felt rough, like I had a five star hangover. My feet refused to work properly, my tongue could have been glued to the roof of my mouth, and waves of nausea swept over me, racking my body with alternating shivers and sweats.

  We were back at the farm. Katherine helped me out of the car, her arm snug around my waist as she led me into her apartment. “Bed, I think.” Her voice was cheerful. Next thing
I knew, I was sprawled on her bed while she tugged off my boots. I heard them drop to the floor with two loud thuds. The sounds rattled my brain.

  “Nan’s here. Do you want her to sit with you?” Katherine sounded nervous as she hauled a duvet over me. “I really think you need medical attention.”

  I gritted my chattering teeth and forced a few words out. “No doctor, just you. Please stay.” Her voice, her touch, soothed me. Irrational and dangerous as it was, I didn’t want to be apart from her. I gazed helplessly as she retreated into the lounge and returned with Nanette. A wave of exhaustion swept through me as I closed my eyes.

  * * * *

  The next time I surfaced, my headache had receded to a dull thump–a set of tom-toms were playing inside my brain. I cracked my eyes open, letting them get accustomed to the dim lights as I scanned the room. Someone sat in a nearby armchair. Kitten. She was curled up with her legs beneath her, immersed in a book, the bedside lamp illuminating her profile and making her look mysterious. Unexpected shadows played over her face, and her sharp chin looked fierce and determined. Her hair looked different too. Previously, she’d tied it back in a tight ponytail, but now it fell loose around her face, reddish glints sparking like little flames. I watched unseen for a long moment, enjoying the sight of her and waiting for my brain to kick back into gear. This had to be a very nice dream. I’d been angry with her earlier, hurt by her attitude, but here and now, things felt good between us.

  My mouth didn’t feel good though, more like a small furry creature had crawled inside and died there. I licked my lips and Kitten glanced at me, her eyes widening when she saw me staring.