The Possession

by Spikes J. D.

  “It doesn’t like me.”

  I swung my gaze back to him. He clasped me by the waist and with a grin tugged me nearer. “You won’t like me much either if you don’t move me out of here and soon.”

  He tried to kiss me. I swatted him out into the hallway and hoped my newest shade, crimson, left my face by the time we got downstairs.

  It had, mostly, and now I patted the cushion beside me for Zach to take a seat. “So what happened that made Chantal think Aunt Dwill was pregnant and you killed her baby?”

  He lifted his eyes from the page briefly and dropped onto the loveseat. “Nothing. Just like today.”

  “You mean Chantal saw Ro?”

  He nodded. “She really wigged out, too. I’d made the mistake of putting the paint on at the cemetery, so my hands were red and she really believed it was blood. Eddie was sick at the time, gallbladder or something, and taken to the hospital that night.”

  I nudged him when he stopped. “What did Chantal do?”

  “I had to chase her down, almost all the way back to town. My dad passed us on his way home from the hospital. She started bawling that I killed a baby and was trying to kill her, too. My dad was pissed.”

  “At Chantal? Because she was accusing you? And him. She must have figured your dad as the father.”

  He screwed up his face, lips pressed together as though thinking it over, then lifted his gaze to mine. “At me, mostly, for messing with stuff I shouldn’t.” He grinned. “It took us over an hour to calm her down.”

  I shoved his shoulder and stood. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Then I hurried to grab another ledger before he saw me smile.

  “Maybe. Chantal seemed to understand that she didn’t see Eddie, and there was no baby, but by the time I got back from my Quest, her gang had pretty much spread the word.”

  I reclaimed my place on the loveseat. “Where did the other name come from?” I had seen the pictures of his mom at his house. She didn’t look white.

  He returned his attention to the ledger in his lap and I thought he was going to ignore the question. He didn’t look at me when he replied, “I guess Chantal was close enough to realize my eyes are blue.”

  “How close was she?” but I only half-teased.

  He leaned in and murmured near my ear, “I could show you.”

  “Uh-uh,” I laughed, “we’ve got lots of work to do.”

  Zach pouted until I laughed again then went back to his ledger. “Chantal still likes to threaten me with it. Doesn’t want to admit she’d seen a spirit.”

  I thought on this a bit, flipping pages.

  “Could be pretty scary, I imagine,” I said and rose, closing my ledger.

  “You took it well, all things considered.” Zach had closed his ledger, too, but remained seated, watching me with interest.

  I shrugged. “It wasn’t night and I didn’t have a blood-covered warrior in my face.”

  Our gazes locked, and I knew he was thinking of the kiss, too. When he grinned, it was written all over him. I continued, “Besides, I didn’t really realize it. By the time I did, I was kind of used to it. And intrigued by it.”

  “This was not your first time.”

  He’d been so sure. I walked behind the loveseat. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  Zach tilted his head back, following my movements, but didn’t speak. I perched on the arm of the loveseat. “Were you at Vincent’s grave when Chantal saw you?”

  “Not yet, but I was near the wall.”

  “How do you know where he’s buried? Family story?”

  “No.”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him, waiting.

  Zach stood abruptly and crossed to the bookshelf.

  “What, did you spot the stone one day or something while you were messing around out there?”

  His face to the row of ledgers, he mumbled, “I see things.”

  “I know. You’re very observant.”

  He shook his head and said something else, but I couldn’t make out all his words. “In time? What does that mean?”

  Zach spun to face me. He looked me dead on. “In dreamtime. I’m shown things.”

  My eyes widened; I felt them. “Since when?”

  “Always. But it’s been . . . sharper . . . since my Vision Quest. I think it taught me. To be more aware.”

  I digested this. “Does your dad know?”

  “Yes. And no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Zach tilted his head. “I don’t think he wants to know too much, so I don’t usually tell him.”

  “Why were you shown Vincent’s grave?”

  “He needs help. To get back to his family. It’s time.”

  There was more. I could feel it. “What else did you see, Zach?”

  His eyes pinned mine, their blue deepening almost to black. “You.”

  A zap, as though I’d touched an ungrounded wall socket, hit my chest. I placed a shaking hand on my heart. “Me?”

  Zach didn’t answer, but crossed to my side. He slid onto the loveseat and pulled me down from the arm of it, onto his lap. I gripped his shoulders as his hand cupped the back of my head and his lips found mine. Their heat lingered there even after he’d moved them to my ear to whisper, “It’s how I knew you would help us.”

  “Us?” The word wobbled out of my mouth, somehow making it through my erratic breathing.

  “Me, Vincent, Ro. Sarah. My dad, your aunt. You. So many people are affected by one single act, Daphne. No matter how small. And it stays in the circle until it’s made right.”

  I pulled back to see his face, his eyes. I had no words for the way he filled my heart. It felt big, and heavy, light and free all at the same time. I stroked my fingertips across his cheek and along his jaw.

  “You’re even prettier in waking,” he said. The low gruff tone of his voice sent a thrill up my back. He kissed my cheek, the edge of my jaw, and then my throat. His lips lingered there and shimmered heat across me in every direction. His hands clenched my hips.

  Passion. To be engulfed in a wave of emotion so intense it could temper steel. I pressed closer to him, my lips to his neck. He stilled. I grew brave and moved along his neck to just below his ear. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell beneath my palms. Then I kissed his ear.

  Zach’s breath left him in a whoosh. He shifted and I found myself on my back with his mouth over mine. He trailed kisses down my throat between the beads of my necklace. I gasped and my arms wrapped around his head. His hand moved upward, thumb brushing my skin and I realized he had crested my ribcage. Tendrils of cooled heat swirled across me and I grabbed his hand. “Zach!”

  “I know,” he moaned, “I know.” His hand retreated to my waist, but his mouth remained at my neckline, breath hot and rapid on my skin. The weight of him on me made my body buzz. It was hard not to move, but I didn’t dare.

  Zach lifted his head and shifted his weight up onto his elbows. “Good thing this isn’t a couch.”

  The thought of us stretched out with him totally on top of me caused a quivering low in my stomach. Thank God he sat up and pulled me up, too. I swung my legs down off his lap and sagged against the back cushions. Zach leaned forward, elbows to knees, and rested his forehead on his fingertips.

  “Don’t kiss my neck anymore,” he grumbled, but I saw his smile. I touched my hand to his shoulder.

  “Okay. You can kiss my neck but not my ear.”

  Smiling, I moved my hand down his back.

  “Okay. You can kiss me where you want, but not near furniture.”

  I laughed and he stood up. I stood, too, and pushed him toward the bookcase. We both seemed to have someone else’s legs. “Is here okay?” I teased.

  He hooked me by the belt loops, tugging me near. “Let’s find out.”

  Our lips met. A throat cleared in the doorway. Zach and I released each other and peered toward the sound.

  “Hi, Aunt. Mr. P.”

  Zach threw a nod to them. “Hey.”

  “Wh
at are you two doing?”

  “Making—” I kicked Zach’s foot, “—a place on the shelf for these books,” he finished and glanced back at me, one corner of his mouth fighting a grin.

  Mr. Philbrook’s gaze kept returning to Zach’s hair. “Been here long?” he questioned.

  “Kind of.”

  “Not really.”

  Mr. Philbrook and Aunt exchanged a look. I rolled my eyes at Zach. He shrugged, unconcerned.

  Aunt Dwill scanned the books scattered along the edge of the desk. “The ledgers? Oh! That reminds me. I found one in the basement, in an old box. It’s on the shelf near the washer, Daphne. After I brought up the load, I forgot to go back for it.” She waved a finger at both of us. “I’m going to make coffee. You two want anything?”

  Zach started to shake his head, but I nodded. “Yeah. Soda would be good. We’ll be right there.” I tapped Zach’s arm. “Come with me to get the ledger?”

  “Sure,” he agreed and we followed the adults from the room.

  The basement wasn’t so creepy with Zach by my side. I whacked his arm with the back of my fingers as soon as we hit the bottom stair.

  “What?”

  I hurried him along to the laundry room, out of earshot of the stairway. “You were going to tell them we were making out! Are you insane?”

  “You think they didn’t know?”

  “You don’t have to clue them in that they’re right.”

  Zach leaned against the washer. “I just wanted to rub it in that we got there first.”

  “Zach!”

  He laughed. “I was teasing you, Daphne. I had no intention of saying it.”

  Hands on hips, I sighed but let Zach pull me to him. I nestled my face against his neck. He combed his fingers through my hair and held me close. His heart thumped softly with mine.

  “I’m really going to miss you, Daphne.”

  I shook my head, careful not to bump his chin. “No, you won’t. You’ll go to college and meet tons of people. All sorts of girls . . .”

  “But they won’t be my girl.”

  My head came up, eyes fastening on his, heart pounding. “Don’t tease me,” I began to whisper, when—

  Whack!

  Something flew by my face and glanced off Zach’s head, landing on the washing machine with a clatter. We jumped away.

  “Are you okay?” With Zach’s nod, we turned our attention back to the washer.

  The ledger rested there, back cover opened to reveal a slit along the inner binding.

  A piece of paper protruded from it.

  Chapter 21

  Have you ever had the feeling that someone is watching you?

  I stood at the center of the cemetery, facing the north wall, the paper that we’d found hidden in the ledger last night open in my hand. It all looked to be in order, but something wasn’t right.

  Again, the feeling. Fingers lightly brushing up the spine making you shiver, giving rise to goosebumps that spread across every inch of skin.

  My mom called it ‘someone walking over your grave’. I glanced around me. “Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled.

  After placing the paper back into its plastic bag and zipping it carefully, I tucked it into my beach bag and turned to leave. I scanned the area outside the cemetery.

  If Chantal were nearby, she had learned how to hide.

  The bell ting’d lightly when I left.

  We’d run out of paint for the garage and shed doors, and the hardware store wouldn’t get more in until tomorrow. As it was already well past lunch, Aunt had decided to call it a day. It was hot, and Zach had readily agreed to meet me at the beach for a swim.

  I had dressed with care. Even though my bathing suit was one piece, its high cut leg and low scoop back flattered and the deep lime complemented my coloring. Instead of the stupid sarong he’d last seen me in, I wore my new white V-neck chiffon cover-up. The embroidered drapey slit sleeves and sheer material were supposed to be sexy and it sure felt that way.

  I’d left my hair down, waving lightly past my shoulders, sure to pick up every red-revealing ray of light thrown at me.

  What was happening to me? I stomped down the path. Zach should never have called me his girl. Now it mattered. Now I had to worry. How stupid was that?

  He hadn’t gotten to the beach yet, so I dropped my bag, threw down my double-wide towel and walked to the waterline.

  If you’ve never been to the ocean, there’s nothing like the salt tang of the air coming off the water. It smells like life. I never gave it a thought, when we learned in science class that the body is almost entirely water, and that life evolved from the sea, but the ocean does exert a pull on you.

  The sun warms the air, the offshore breeze cools it. The light, the repetitive lull of surf, the cry of gulls, and the fact that when you look out across the horizon the ocean is all you see has a profound effect. You feel small, but part of such a huge existence, all at the same time.

  I bent and picked up a flat, smooth rock. It was difficult to skip stones on the tides, but hey, I’d taken on bigger tasks lately.

  The water relatively calm, my stone skipped three times before disappearing beneath the surface.

  Again the feeling of being watched nudged me, but this time I knew that Zach had arrived. I took a deep breath, threw out a prayer that he not think me a dork, and turned.

  Zach was staring at me. His bag dropped from his hand.

  “Hi, Zach.”

  He opened his mouth but nothing came out. His gaze swept me, head to foot, foot to head, and down again. His eyes then fastened on mine but the breeze tossed my hair across my face and I had to sweep it back before I could see him clearly. I started towards him.

  He looked stricken, and I had the sudden thought that that was probably how I looked last night when he came downstairs after changing.

  Zach was seeing me in a whole new light. But he had liked me before. Just like I had liked him before. My worry slipped away. I dropped onto the blanket and smiled. “You staying?”

  That seemed to snap him out of it. “Let’s swim,” he answered. “I think I need the water.”

  “Okay.” I stood and pulled the cover-up over my head.

  “Ah, shit,” I heard him mutter, and he ran for the ocean without me. Hitting the water, he took four long strides then disappeared beneath the waves.

  He was still wearing his tee shirt.

  I chased after him, confident.

  I dove into the oncoming wave and when I broke the surface, Zach was there.

  “You forgot to take your shirt off.”

  He smiled and advanced on me. I backed up, laughing, “Afraid you’ll lose another one?”

  “I never lost the first one. I know where it is.”

  “But will you get it back? And what if I want that one, too?”

  He pulled his shirt off over his head. I turned and ran. Slow motion. It’s all you can do in the sea.

  Zach tried to catch me, but he fell face first into the surf. I was laughing so hard, I nearly lost my footing, too. Still, I made it to the beach and raced for the blanket. Zach was on my heels. I stopped, spinning to face him before we kicked dirt all over our towels.

  His wet shirt limp in his hand, we stared at each other, catching air from our run.

  “You won’t forget me, will you, Daph?”

  “How could I?”

  He tossed his shirt at my bag and we fell onto the towels and onto our backs. Our fingers twined. Silence reigned.

  The sun baked us. I draped his cool damp shirt over me, my intent to keep it clear. He watched me through slit eyelids, a smile teasing his lips. I loved his face. The way every bit of it revealed something of him.

  “Let’s move to the shade,” he said, “I can’t take it anymore.”

  We carried our stuff into the shadow of the rocks. Once settled there, I pulled out two bottles of water and tossed him one. We drank thirstily then recapped the bottles.

  “I brought the blueprint,” I said, wipin
g sweat from my brow. “Something’s not right. I stopped by the cemetery on my way here. It looks like they match, but I keep thinking I’ve seen a sketch somewhere before and it was different.”

  Zach drove his bottle into the sand. “Can I see it?”

  I dug it out and passed it to him. He opened it carefully. His respect for everything he dealt with impressed me beyond measure. His respect for me and our boundaries appeared an extension of this.

  “This is an accurate layout of the current cemetery,” he said, “but I agree with you that it can’t be right.”

  “You’ve seen another layout?”

  “No, but your ‘missive’, Dorothea’s concern, was that the workers were veering from the plan.”

  “I wish we could find her journal.”

  “You’re still certain there is one?” He smoothed my hair from my face, his fingers lingering there.

  “If we’re so much alike, what do you think?”

  “I think I’d feel sorry for Vincent.”

  I smacked his hand away and he feigned hurt. “If you’re a handful today, imagine what you would have been back then.”

  “What makes you say I’m a handful today?” I demanded.

  “Experience,” he replied, and I cuffed him, but he only laughed more. “You know the truth, Daphne.”

  “Yeah. That you’re impossible.”

  “But you like me anyway, don’t you?”

  I stuck my tongue out at him but couldn’t keep a straight face. He returned the sentiment, but his mouth had already covered mine when he did so. His arm wrapped around my bent knees, hand resting on my thigh. I closed my eyes and savored the kiss, the feel of his sun-warmed hair beneath my fingers.

  “Get a room.”

  My eyes jerked open and Zach spun away, shifting so that he blocked me. Chantal and Gary were almost on our blanket, so close had they come.

  Zach motioned down the beach. “Plenty of sand. You don’t need to be on top of us.”

  Gary smirked. “What if we want to? Are you going to call your daddy?”

  “No, I’m going to call yours,” I said, pulling Zach’s shirt towards me. I didn’t like the way Gary kept trying to see around Zach.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Try it. I’ll—”

  “What?” Zach stood and I followed him up. I had never realized he was bigger than Gary. Chantal’s eyes widened, her gaze raking over them. Zach reached back for my hand. I took his readily and he pulled me close, our arms across his waist. “Get lost, or this time I’ll fix it, Gary. And I won’t be as nice as my father.”