by Deanna Chase
Right, because my idea of the perfect evening included watching naughty librarians and pussycats strip down to their dental floss, while drinking myself into oblivion. “No, thanks. It’s been a long day.”
He glanced past me into the apartment and nodded. “Right. Just thought I’d ask.”
I waited until he’d disappeared down the stairs then slammed the door. Son of a bitch. The closest thing to a date invitation I’d had in months had been to a strip club. What was wrong with me?
I flopped on my new mattress because I didn’t have any other furniture yet and plucked the envelope off the present. I let it slide through my fingers for a few moments before turning it over. It read: Jade, Welcome home. My foul mood vanished. A smiled tugged at my lips. I didn’t have many friends. Okay, I had one friend and right then, things were…awkward. It happens when your best friend starts dating your ex.
Being an empath has made it difficult to maintain personal relationships. When I’d been younger and hadn’t understood I was different, I’d alienated a lot of people with my ability. Let’s just say my perceptions weren’t appreciated. So Pyper’s attempt to reach out to me meant more than she could possibly know. Especially since I’d learned to keep my gift to myself. In the last ten years I’d only told one other person—my ex—about my ability.
Giddy with anticipation, I grabbed the box and carefully peeled away the tape, preserving the paper. For what, I didn’t know. I never save wrapping paper. In fact, people who did usually annoyed me. Not that I don’t want to save trees, I’m just usually too impatient to see what’s inside. Red tissue paper lined the inside of the white gift box. I fished through, finding a personal coffee maker, a mug with The Grind scrawled across it and a round jar of something called Honey Dust.
I read the label: An edible body powder.
Laughing, I put the jar down and ripped the card open. Heat radiated through my body as I read the words. Welcome to the building. Sincerely, Pyper and Kane.
Had the Honey Dust been Pyper’s idea or Kane’s? If it was Kane’s, somehow I thought I should be offended, but the image of him running his lips over my dusted skin sent ripples of anticipation through my body. I waved a hand in front of my face, fanning myself. Calm down, girl. Kane is Pyper’s man. Surely she had included it as a joke.
I set the mug and the coffee maker on the counter and carried the Honey Dust to the bathroom. The lure of my claw-foot tub was too much. As I waited for it to fill, I ran back to the kitchen to grab a bottle of merlot. My bags sat opened with stuff bulging out of them. Without any furniture, I had nowhere to store any of it, but I couldn’t have cared less. I had my own place, all to myself, and nothing else mattered. Except the bath waiting for me.
Content after slipping into the tub, I lifted the wine bottle to my lips. So what if I didn’t have any glasses yet? I wasn’t above drinking straight from the bottle.
An ominous rumble boomed outside, indicating an afternoon storm. Sighing, I set the wine on the floor, leaned back and closed my eyes, reveling in the rhythmic rain as it drummed on the roof.
When my toes started to prune I reluctantly pulled the plug and ran the shower to soap up and wash my hair. While drying off, I saw the round jar sitting on a shelf just to the left of the tub. The Honey Dust. My lips quirked into a small smile.
Feeling a little naughty, I opened the container. A sweet honeysuckle fragrance filled the bathroom. Before I could do anything else, the dust rose from the jar all on its own and swirled in a circle around me, caressing me with tiny invisible kisses.
I froze and then called out, “Hey, stop it right now!”
The whirlwind stopped at my command, and I almost choked on the thick dust of powder lingering in the air. Feeling utterly violated, I catapulted out of the tub, crying out when my ankle smashed against the side of the tub. With limbs flailing, I somehow managed to grasp the edge of the sink and save myself from cracking my skull on the toilet. How embarrassing would that be to be found dead, naked in your bathroom, in a pile of Honey Dust?
Breathing hard, I ran to the other room and pulled on the first clothes I found, grabbed my purse and slammed the door behind me. My bare feet moved faster than I thought possible down the stairs. As I jumped the last three steps into the hallway I angled right toward the exit, colliding with something—or someone—solid enough to knock me on my ass.
“Holy shit, Jade. Where’s the fire?” Pyper grunted, trying to get her feet back under her.
“Oh God! I’m so sorry.” I covered my face in horror.
“It’s all right. I’ll live.” Her voice floated down from above me. “Here, let me help you up.” When I didn’t respond, her tone went soft. “Are you okay?”
I peeked out from behind my fingers and squeaked, “I have a ghost.”
Her posture relaxed as she leaned against the wall. “Oh, okay,” she said, dismissing me.
“No really, I think the apartment has a ghost.”
“Why? ‘Cause Kane said so, and now every little thing is freaking you out?” She rolled her deep blue eyes.
“No. Because just now, as I was putting on a sampling of the Honey Dust you gave me, it kicked it up and made it whirl around me like a mini tornado. I didn’t even have the window open. You can’t tell me there isn’t something weird about that.” I pleaded into her widening eyes.
Great. I’d known her less than two weeks, and already I’d become the resident freak.
“Really? That’s interesting,” she said more to herself than to me. Standing up, she angled toward the stairwell. “Come on.” She put her foot on the first step.
“Where?” I didn’t move. She wasn’t seriously going up there, was she?
“Upstairs. I have to see this,” she said, her eyes now gleeful.
“No! I am not going back up there.”
“Come on, Jade, who will believe you if you don’t have a witness? Kane doesn’t count, since no one believes him either.”
“You go if you want. I’m going to stay right here.” I pressed against the wall.
“Oh no, you aren’t.” She grabbed my hands and tugged me up.
Planting my feet, I set my shoulders and didn’t budge as she tried to pull me along. “No.”
Looking me full in the face, she burst out laughing. The laughing continued until tears streamed down her face.
“What in the world makes you think this is so hilarious?” I demanded.
Gasping to catch her breath, she wheezed out, “The Honey Dust. You have a perv ghost.” Laughter overtook her again, causing her face to turn beet-red. It clashed with the blue highlights in her thick black hair.
I sighed, resigning myself. Her hysteria somehow calmed me enough to reconsider. “You are going to pee yourself laughing at my situation. Let’s go.” Moving past her, I headed back to my apartment.
My bravado quickly waned as we hit the second floor landing. Had it not been for Pyper’s firm hand on my wrist, I’m certain I would have turned and fled. When we reached my door I raised my eyebrow as Pyper took a key out and unlocked it. It was natural for her to have a key. I just wouldn’t have thought she kept one on her person. However, I said nothing and let her tug me into the room.
She walked to the bathroom and held the door wide open.
I crept up behind her and peeked over her shoulder. The harmless-looking Honey Dust jar sat capped in the middle of my bathroom.
I gasped.
“What?” Pyper turned to look at me.
“I, ah, well, I didn’t stop to put the cap on the jar. I just dropped it…” My voice trailed off as I backed away from the room. Legs turning to jelly, I sunk down onto my mattress. Pyper disappeared into the bathroom. Visions of me in a straitjacket, surrounded by white rubber walls, filled my mind.
A few minutes went by before she popped up beside the doorjamb. “Come in here,” she called as her head jerked back inside.
I sat motionless, my mind fixated on the rubber walls.
“Get in he
re,” she demanded.
My mind blank, I followed her voice and stopped in the door frame. Pyper was squatting, pressed up against the wall, studying the jar in the middle of the floor.
“What?” I asked.
“This is so interesting,” she replied, not looking up.
I waited for her to continue.
“The jar is in the middle of a layer of the Honey Dust. Do you see it?” She used her finger to make a circle in the air above the jar.
I glanced down. “Yeah. So?”
“There’s something missing.” Her eyes twinkled.
Looking back at the jar and the floor caked in dust, I saw nothing else out of place—or missing, for that matter. Puzzled, I stared at her.
“Footprints!” she exclaimed. “Where are your footprints? It looks like the whole jar was dumped in here. No way could you have dumped the whole jar out, replaced the top, and set it here without leaving footprints.”
I inspected the scene. The jar sat in the middle of my bathroom with a thick layer of Honey Dust covering the floor from the tub to the door. She was right. I couldn’t have placed the jar where it was without disturbing the smooth layer.
Pyper turned and walked into the main room. “Whoever you are, reveal yourself!”
My eyes flew open in shock. “What the hell?” I hissed. “You’re not supposed to invite ghosts to reveal themselves.”
“How else do you think I’m going to see it?”
“Shhhh.” I was terrified of what her invitation might bring.
An unfamiliar energy, mixed with bitterness and satisfaction, invaded my senses. I turned to Pyper, my voice barely a whisper. “Someone is here.”
“Huh?” She took a step toward me and then jumped, wrapping her arms around her chest. “What the hell was that?” She twisted her head, searching the room.
Ice numbed my hands and moved up my arms, making me shiver. I pointed to a shadow, black as coal, moving across the far wall. We stood, paralyzed, while the image grew larger and moved toward us. Pyper’s sudden fear inched its way into my awareness. Instinct took over, and I forced as much calm as I could in her direction.
Her panic started to ease, but just barely. I renewed my efforts, forcing my will toward her. Pain pierced my heart and shot through my veins. Gasping, I clutched my chest, staring in horror at the black shadow as something grabbed my essence and yanked.
“No!” I shouted in defiance and snatched my energy back.
The shadow hovered for a moment unmoving in front of us then shattered into a million pieces like confetti. I stood staring, transfixed by the cascade as it faded into nothing until Pyper tugged on my hand. I glanced at her, and we both ran for the stairs.
Click the title to purchase Haunted on Bourbon Street.
Table of Contents
Intoxicating Magic
Intoxicating Magic
Copyright
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Epilogue
Other Books by Deanna
About the Author
Haunted on Bourbon Street Excerpt
Chapter 1