by Sofia Grey
My heart contracted. “God, I’m sorry. At least I had mine until I was twelve.”
His hand lifted, fingers flexing before he dropped it onto the bed. “It must have been worse for you. You can’t miss what you don’t know.”
I had to ask, but didn’t want to—I was afraid of hearing his answer. “Dante, have you ever been able to contact your mum?”
His foot jiggled, a nervous repetitive tapping at the floor. “No.”
Disappointment surged. If he couldn’t talk to his own mother, how would he find mine?
“It’s not like picking a number out of the directory and making a call.” His mouth twisted. “It’s not an exact science, Kitten. But I’ll do my best for you.”
I let out my breath in a noisy puff. This might be as good as I would get. “Okay, so how do we do it?”
His foot jiggled some more, and he dropped his head. “I have a couple of spirit guides who go searching for people, but it doesn’t always work. They’ve been a bit hard to get hold of. The last couple of days anyway.”
Spirit guides? I had a mental image of an angel with a backpack and walking stick. “Do I sit with you while you, ah, contact them?”
“Normally, I’d say yes. But I’ve no idea when they’re going to turn up, so I’ll ask when I see them.”
It sounded as normal and everyday as him talking to an accountant. “I have to go home tomorrow—there’s a function I have to attend. If I leave you my number, will you let me know?”
Dante must have heard the tremor in my voice. Turning to face me, with a gentleness that made my eyes fill, he carefully tucked a wild strand of hair behind my ear. He spoke earnestly. “I’ll let you know, whatever happens. And there’s another thing we can try, if you can handle it.” His eyes searched my face.
I froze and held my breath.
“If you know where she died, we could try going there.”
Go back there? I shuddered, my lungs tight. “I, ah, I’m not sure if I…”
“Kitten.” His voice so soft, so full of pain. His fingers sought my hand, meshed them together. “It’s okay. I’ll be with you. You can do it.” My eyes dropped to our hands, lying entwined between us. I dragged in a shaky breath and drew some strength from him. His gaze held me, grave and serious.
I wanted to believe him, but could I trust him?
3.3 Dante
Sleep continued to elude me. Kitten had dozed off, huddled around her pillow while still holding my hand. I stared at the ceiling. Then I heard my phone chirruping. My usual callers didn’t keep office hours and, again, I missed the call. No voice message, but I had a good idea who it was, and he never left anything as incriminating as a message. My next payment was due in less than a week’s time and I needed to get my arse in gear. The séance money alone would be nowhere near enough.
I awoke to hear the shower running and immediately remembered my dream. The black-winged angel again. What the fuck was that about? I dug deep, but couldn’t recall any more details than last time.
Kitten acted shy and distant around me, our intimacy disappearing with the daylight. I’d barely enough time for a shower before the students rolled up, clattering the doors on their transit van, loud and turbulent as they crossed the yard. Trying to explain last night’s fiasco was the last thing I felt like doing, but they needed to know what happened, and I hoped to have my own gaps filled.
Nan arrived just behind them. She greeted me with a big hug and another peck on the lips. “Don’t you ever do that again, you tosser. I was fucking petrified.”
While Kitten made fresh coffee, Nan dragged me outside on the pretext of having a ciggie. I deliberated for all of two seconds and then accepted one of hers. Inhaling deeply, I reminded myself why I smoked roll-ups—not just for the cost—the disgusting taste helped me resist them. Nan’s was smooth and intoxicating in comparison. I luxuriated in the taste and blew a series of perfect smoke rings while she pulled a face.
“Show off,” she muttered, but with a smile to soften her words before placing a hand on my arm. “Were you okay last night?” Nan always tried to maintain her hardcore appearance, but the anxious fingers squeezing my forearm told otherwise.
I nodded. “Yeah, and thanks. Kitten said you set up some protection for me while I was out of it.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “Kitten?”
“Katherine.” I pulled a funny face and blew another quick ring. “She hates nicknames, so that’s why I gave her one.” As Nan’s eyebrows shot into her forehead, I shook my head and forced a laugh. “I gave her a nickname. We didn’t hook up, so take that dirty thought out of your head.”
In reply, Nan slipped her arm around my waist. “Good. I’d hate to have to scratch her eyes out.”
“And why would you do that?”
She sighed and dumped the remains of her cigarette, grinding it beneath her heel. With a little smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she turned and placed a hand on my shoulder. We looked as though we were about to dance. “Let’s face it, Chuckles. She’s so far out of your league, she could be orbiting the frigging planet. I know her type. The best you’d get would be a major head fuck, and I don’t want her to do that to you.” Her fingers tightened, curling into my T-shirt.
She moved closer. I could hear her ragged breathing, feel the tension in her body. “What’s this all about, Nan? You’re acting like you’re jealous or something.” I still held my cigarette, it was too good to waste. One last drag and I stubbed it out.
Nan smiled at me. “Maybe I’m wondering why I’m still bothering with Ash.”
Her bright blue eyes looked innocent, but something was wrong. I’d been friends with Nan for years, but she’d never been possessive before. As I gazed at her, perplexed, she moved, pressing herself even closer.
“Have you ever thought about being with me?” A sensuous whisper that made my head spin. “We could be so good together.”
“Nan, I don’t do relationships. You know that.” I stared at her some more. “What’s got into you?”
“Just think about it, Chuckles.” She rested her face against my chest, and it reminded me with a pang of how Kitten had sought comfort from me last night. I was distinctly uncomfortable with the way this conversation was developing and relieved when Tristan came to call us back into the apartment.
* * * *
I leaned against the wall in Kitten’s lounge, expecting Nan to take a seat. It felt awkward when she stood beside me instead. She’d always been touchy-feely, but today she was exceeding herself. Little brushes against my arm, her hip resting next to mine. Last night’s fuck-up must have really freaked her. Everyone looked at me, expecting me to start the ball rolling, perhaps. I launched straight in. “Do you have the footage from last night? Can I see it?”
Tristan scowled and jabbed a finger at Chaz. “I wish. That pillock wiped it. Every last fucking minute of it.”
Chaz flinched at the words, his face pale and anxious. Lucy, huddled next to him, gave his hand a squeeze and spoke up. It was the first time I’d actually heard her say more than two words. “He doesn’t know why he did that. I told you.”
I’d missed more than I thought. I stepped forward and clapped my hands for attention. “Hey, guys. Can anyone tell me exactly what happened? Pretend I wasn’t there. I need someone to give it to me, blow-by-blow.”
“I will.” Lucy gazed at me, her brown eyes wary. “I’m the record keeper for this project, so I made copious notes as soon as we finished.” She produced a spiral bound pad and flicked through the pages. “Should I read it all out?”
3.4 Katherine
I hadn’t bothered to tie my hair back this morning, and it gave me the opportunity to watch Dante through the long fringe, without him noticing. I could also watch how Nanette kept sidling closer, slipping one arm around his back, her fingers hooking into his belt. Just friends? She obviously didn’t think so. When we’d talked about our mothers, I’d felt connected to him. I’d come perilously close to kissing him
. Then again, I’d shot him down and made it quite clear there was nothing between us, no matter how much I might be tempted.
Nanette’s multiple earrings sparkled in the sunlight, and her tinkling laugh appeared to captivate Dante. When she ran a hand through her peroxide crop, I noticed that even her nails were decorated—tiny, silver stars adorned each black, glossy fingernail.
Trying to pay attention, I shifted my gaze to Lucy, now perched on the edge of the sofa, her voice crisp and assertive as she summarized the séance. “Dante stood up and spoke in a female voice, talking to Chaz, calling him Chazzy.” She paused, running a finger across her notes, her cheeks coloring. With a sideways glance at Chaz, who sat pale and tense beside her, she carried on. “She spoke to Chaz, and Dante walked toward him, his arm stretched out. Meanwhile, Chaz turned to the cameras and started deleting the recordings, wiping everything clean.”
I looked back at Dante, shocked at his appearance. White lines bracketed his mouth, his jaw was so stiff I was surprised he could even speak.
His words fired out like bullets. “Did I touch you, Chaz? When we were outside of the circle, did I touch you at all?”
“I don’t know.” His voice sullen.
Tristan huffed and rolled his eyes while Lucy raised her voice. “No, you didn’t. Chaz stepped away from you, then Nanette yelled, and he re-joined the circle.” Her eyes dropped to the notes. “Then Dante collapsed again. We figured it was all over.” A little shrug.
Chaz got to his feet and squared up to Dante, folding his arms and scowling at him. “How the fuck did you do that? How did you even know?”
They were a similar height, but my money would be on Dante in a brawl. Chaz looked too pretty to be a fighter. Dante’s voice was cold. “Do you remember wiping your data?”
“No.”
“And I don’t remember talking to you. That’s why I wanted to know what happened.”
Dante and Chaz stood there. You could practically smell the testosterone in the room. I figured it was time to take charge. I pulled Chaz away while Nanette wound herself around Dante, pressing her breasts into his back. She whispered into his ear as they moved together. I stood open-mouthed, watching the intimacy flare between them. Chaz seized my distraction as the opportunity to shrug me off. He stomped to the window.
“Dante, what do you think happened?” My words hung in the air as all eyes swiveled back to him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he scuffed his boots together and glared, a hunted expression in his eyes. I recoiled from the intensity of his gaze.
“Sometimes, a strong spirit can take over. It can talk through me, take possession of my body.”
“Is that bad?”
A small nod. “Yes.”
“Umm, how bad?” A thousand horror movies flew through my head.
“Bad. That’s all you need to know.” He dragged in a deep breath and looked at Chaz. “Did you recognize the woman’s voice?”
Chaz stood rigid at the window, his back to us. As we waited, his shoulders sagged, and he slowly turned back, his arms wrapped around his body. “Yeah. It sounded like a woman I knew when I was a kid. Jesus.”
I could hear the rasp of his breathing, his anxiety almost tangible.
“It was her voice, man, it seriously freaked me. She was an exchange student that lived with us one summer.”
Tristan broke the silence that followed. “There was something about killing your father? Did I hear that right?”
“I was eight years old.” He bit the words out. “I hated my father, and she found out.” He raked a hand through his immaculate hair. “She’s fucking dead. She hung herself in our garage. I never expected to hear her voice again.”
Another stunned silence while we absorbed his tale.
“Is that why you wiped the data? You didn’t want us to keep that on record?” Tristan sneered, a spiteful look in his eyes that quickly turned to alarm when Chaz strode towards him.
Chaz towered over him where he was sprawled in the armchair. “I told you, I don’t fucking remember doing that. I heard her—that—voice and the next thing, Nanette was shouting at me to get back in the circle.”
“That’s why I asked if I touched you, in case the spirit had jumped to your body.” Dante’s voice cut through the simmering tension.
In a flash, I recalled hearing his voice in my head just before he keeled over. Did he remember that?
We were going around in circles. “Dante, who was the cowboy? What did he have to do with the airfield?”
“I don’t know. He made no sense at all.” He flicked a tiny smile to Lucy. “But this is where you researchers come in. He might have been a visitor here, or like Chaz’s spirit, something that just homed in on us. It can happen like that.”
There was little more we could say. We still had the amazing footage of the airman and thanks to Lucy, good notes on the second night, even if it wasn’t what we’d anticipated. The students eventually left to trawl through local records, leaving me with Dante. And Nanette.
3.5 Dante
Kitten strode past me into the bedroom. Her face carried the same haughty expression I’d first seen in the control tower. All traces of the affectionate girl from last night had disappeared.
Nanette tugged on my arm. “Chuckles.”
“Yeah?” I watched the doorway, waiting for Kitten to come back.
“What are you doing now? I’m not heading back to Manchester for a couple of days.” One finger hooked through the belt loop in my jeans. “You wanted to come back to my place. My friends are going away. We’d have the house to ourselves.”
“Huh?” I glanced down.
A smile danced across her face and she eased closer.
How can I do this with a minimum of distress? Cupping one hand around her cheek, I conjured a regretful smile. “I’m sorry, babe. There’s some business I have to take care of, and you know I won’t take sides with you and Ash.”
“I hate to interrupt.” To say that Kitten’s voice was frosty would be the understatement of the century. Her amber eyes flicked over me, hostile and wary, no doubt drawing her own conclusions as to what I’d been doing with Nan.
What was it with her? She pushed me away, and then got snarky when Nan came on to me? I didn’t understand either one of them.
“I have your money here.” She held out a plain white envelope, and then slapped it into my hand. “Do you want to check?”
“No, that’s fine.” I tightened my fingers around it. “Kitten, I—”
“It’s Katherine.”
I nodded in acknowledgement. “Katherine, I need your number. In case I make contact. You know.” My smile was wasted.
Her lips tightened as she looked at Nan. Kitten plucked the envelope out of my hand, scribbled a series of digits on the front, and then shoved it back in my direction. “I’m heading back to Manchester in a few minutes. Can you get your gear packed up and out of here?”
* * * *
A half hour later, I pulled onto the forecourt of the nearest service station to see not just one, but two spirits, lurking by the pumps. They swarmed toward me. They’d been young when they died—only teenage boys—and the taller one spoke as I busied myself with the pump. “Will you help us? We’re trying to find our mother.”
The smaller one, most likely his brother, fidgeted beside him, scuffing the toes of his trainers along the ground. Blood poured from a gash on his forehead, and I tried not to stare.
“Please.” The older one took another step toward me.
It broke my heart when this happened. All I could do was talk to them. I know from previous attempts that trying to locate their loved ones was a bad idea. I swallowed hard before I spoke, keeping my voice low. “I’m sorry. I can’t do anything for you.”
The younger boy made a choking noise, and I saw fat tears rolling down his face. “I want to see my mum. Why hasn’t she come back for us?”
I ignored them and wondered when I had become so hard-faced?
* * * *
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Now that I had some money in my pocket, I could grab some breakfast. Stopping at the first set of services, I stood in the line for a fry up, my mind darting back to Nanette. She hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer. While Kitten watched from the doorway, Nan had wrapped her arms around my neck and tried to kiss me. I was leaning against my bike at the time, and she took me by surprise.
The door had banged and Kitten had disappeared from view. Fuck. I’d eased out of Nan’s embrace. “What the fuck is it with you today, Nan?” My voice came out sharp, but she hadn’t seemed to take offense.
The day, already off to a bad start, had just deteriorated further. Now both Kitten and Nanette were acting weird.
My musing was interrupted by the harassed-looking guy behind the counter in the café. He reached forward and tapped my tray. “Excuse me. Can I help you?” He spoke at the same time as a set of familiar white robes materialized beside me.
I was rattled. Breakfast was within reach, but now I had Simeon waiting to talk to me. If I ignored him, there was no telling when he’d return. I nodded to the server and sought my voice. “I’ll, uh, come back in a few minutes.” The sarcastic way he rolled his eyes spoke volumes, and he turned his attention to the people behind me in the line.
My usual ploy was to fake a phone call. With my mobile pressed to my ear, I smiled and nodded to Simeon and retraced my steps back outside. My stomach rumbled in protest. I could still smell the fried bacon and sausages. His timing sucked.
“Hi Simeon, nice to see you.”
He ducked his head in reply, keeping in step. “You are walking a dangerous path, Dante. You have taken the darkness into you.”
Whaaat? “I didn’t figure you for a Jedi knight,” I quipped.
“The darkness surrounds you. Ingrid fears the change.”