“Torra is a very talented beholder. With enough hard work and training, she has the potential to rival even her own mother, the reputed great and powerful Lizet Chance. Now, wouldn’t that be something?”
Before I could take the hoodie from my head, I heard the tapping of Kissa’s high-heeled shoes making their way across the hardwood floor. “Whatever stunt you’re about to pull, I advise you to take care. I know this dog and pony show of yours has something to do with the kidnapping. I also suspect that it has something to do with that pesky Creator you’re so fascinated with. Kristina, Torra’s sister, right? Just don’t do anything too idiotic; we’re in enough trouble as it is.”
I freed myself from the hoodie just in time to watch the bedroom door close behind her. I ran a hand over my face and let out a frustrated chuckle. Even though her delivery was crude, per usual, she had me dead to rights. Somehow, that woman always knew exactly what I was up to.
The door flew back open and Archer tumbled in. He cursed under his breath and stumbled to the side. He ended up in an awkward and wobbly lean against the doorjamb. “Dish your stuff fi…I mean. How’s your pants on?”
Great. That punk-ass cousin of mine was bombed out of his mind again. That bullshit was becoming a regular occurrence, one that I was getting pretty fed up with.
“What bottle bit you this time, the Johnny Walker Red or Black?” I rose to my feet and shrugged on the grey hoodie. “I’ll cave your nose in if you touched my Blue Label, asshole.”
“Shh, shh!”
Archer hushed me by tapping his finger to the top and then to the side of his nose, instead of his mouth. “I did nit drinks your shit. I sprung for it on me, I mean, shit…my own. It’s my shit, man.” He slid down the wall, into a seated position, still leaning most of his weight on his left side. He then pulled a silver flask out of the side pocket of his leather bomber jacket and took a healthy swig from it. After wiping his mouth off on his forearm, he belched. “Excuse me.”
The sound of the elevator opening in the living room reminded me that I was running late. I’d asked my driver to purchase a nondescript dark-colored sedan or economy car for me on the down low.
I looked over at my cousin. Our blood relation was paternal, and by our features, we could easily pass for brothers. The only differences between us were that instead of the Davis grey eyes, his were deep blue.
Shit. I couldn’t leave him passed out like that on the floor. I walked over to him.“You know,” I said as I leaned over him, “this is getting old.” I slipped my arm underneath his armpit and grabbed his opposite shoulder. After making sure I had a good hold, I heaved him up.
Archer cleared his throat, and after three tries, looked me square in the eyes. “I miss her, man.”
He was referring to his girlfriend, Linda. She had been brutally murdered not too long before. Archer blamed himself for not being there to protect the woman he loved.
I started down the hall, his sagging body tethered to mine as I held up the bulk of his weight. “I know you do. The hurt will lessen in time. I promise.”
For his sake and mine, I prayed I was right.
~~~
I deposited Archer in his room. I made sure to put a glass of water on his bedside table and a waste basket next to his bed in case he woke up to hurl. After leaving him to his misery, I found Theodore, my driver, standing in the foyer next to the elevator. As I approached him, he held out a small, black box. The old man’s wrinkled face gathered even more creases, and a set of bushy, white eyebrows drew together as he smiled.
“Sir,” he said, inclining his head, “here are the items you requested.”
I quickened my step and grabbed the box from his hands. After lifting the lid, a big satisfied grin took over my face. “Well done, old man.”
Chapter Seven
I stood just inside the living room. I had Torra’s gun extended in front of me.
“Maybe she’s a secret agent or something,” I said, still hung up on finding her hidden stash of secrets. Torra could just as easily be ass deep into something shady. Maybe even illegal. Why else would she have kept all that from me? Maybe for the same reason you kept the fact that you hunt vampires from her, my inner voice chided, because you wanted to protect her from that part of your world. The world of vampires, and ghosts, and necromancers you were both born into.
I tucked the gun back behind me, in the waistband of my jeans. Might as well bring it with me, considering I didn’t know what I’d be getting myself into that night. It was better to be safe than dead. Screw the sorry part.
The more secrets I uncovered, the more upset, no, infuriated I became with my sister. It was no fun living with such a dark feeling, an emotion that essentially fueled the already growing cesspool of guilt in my gut. Until I found her, it would continue to gnaw at my conscience and make me hate myself for the ill thoughts I kept acquiring against her. She was in trouble, and I was her only hope. God, I was such a hypocrite. Sign me up for the world’s worst sister award.
I glanced over to Jude. “You ready?”
“I can’t remember the last time I left this house.” he stared at the front door and frowned. “I don’t think I ever have.”
In a soft tone, I responded, “You’ll be fine. Think of it like this: You’re already dead, so no one can hurt you.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he explained hoarsely. “I don’t want to be sucked up into the ether, like all those other ghosts you’ve helped. I am not ready to face my white light.”
“You have nothing to fear. Every time one of those spirits passed on, I was able to feel it happen. I could sense that it was their time to leave this world. Don’t worry. You’re stuck with me for a while…so chill out.” I smiled at him and nodded towards the door. “Let’s go.”
“Right, let’s go,” he said, floating towards the door. Before he made it halfway across the living room, he stopped. “You wouldn’t mind going first, would you?”
“Sure thing.” I chuckled.
Armed with a gun and a bitchy attitude, I walked past Jude and opened the door. I was fully pumped and ready to face any possible dangers, fanged foes, boogey men, or anything else that may be thrown in my path. I was a necromancer on a mission.
~~~
Following the note, I drove south for three miles down Main Street. I took a left on Mission Parkway and continued east for another five miles before making the last turn on the map. That turn-off led us down a one-lane, moonlit woodland road that wound like a snake to disappear behind a copse of trees. That’s where I decided to hide the car, off the road behind the first outcropping of trees. According to the map, I needed to hike north for one more mile, until I happened upon an abnormal set of trees, entwined together, forming the shape of a Twizzler.
“How are you holding up?” Jude asked as I removed the keys from the ignition.
“I’m just peachy, my friend, with a pit in my stomach to prove it.” When all else failed, I joked my way through fear or nervous situations.
Warning signs blasted through me, and a sick feeling enveloped me. Something or someone was out there, and I knew it with certainty. I could feel eyes upon me. The warning was almost tangible. By the thick and sticky feel of magic, I could tell it was either a vampire or a necro.
I exited the car. There was a chill in the air, so out of habit, I reached back inside for the jacket I brought with me. Before I put it on, I realized that even though I was exhaling fog, my body remained warm. That was odd. I reached for the top of my shirt and pulled downward. All at once, cold air rushed in, chilling me to the bone. I released the fabric, and it quickly molded to my body.
The shirt was made out of some kind of insulating material. Not needing the jacket, I tossed it back on the passenger seat and shut the door. I mentally patted Torra on the back. If she was going to be sneaky and up to no good, at least she was going about it like a boss.
I began the long hike north, keeping a vigilant eye trained on my surround
ings. Jude followed, keeping several feet between us. Somebody was out there, and chances were good it was the scumbag that took my sister, or one of his cronies, if he had any. I was on guard, and so was Jude. He kept looking over his shoulder.
“Whoever it is, do you think they’re close?” I hovered a hand over the gun at my waist.
Jude closed his eyes. After a few seconds, they popped back open. “It’s a necromancer. I was able to sense him the same way I can sense you. Do you want me to go investigate?”
The fact that ghosts had the ability to locate and track any necromancer within a few miles’ radius was coming in handy at the moment. However, if you consider the fact that a high-level Creator could extinguish a ghost’s life force in an instant, making them disappear from the earth forever, it was a bit risky for Jude to go popping off to find the necro in question. I had no way of telling what level of necromancy he or she wielded. Or did I?
“Jude, I need you to do something for me. It’s very important.”
Jude rode the air, still keeping his eyes on the empty road and dense trees surrounding us. “What is it?”
“Close your eyes again, but this time, when locating the magic, focus on mine. Tell me if you notice any similarities between me and the other necro.”
“I will try my best.”
Jude shut his eyes. Being in that proximity, I could feel his essence reach out to me with ease. It probed, leaching into the magic that was specific to me, putting it under scrutiny. I had to fight back an urge to strike out and stop the invading presence. I tampered down the impulse and let him continue his invasion.
“What do you see?” I asked between gritted teeth. The space between my eyebrows began to throb, the pain weakening my resistance. I had to dig my nails into the palms of my hands to keep from attacking him. “That’s enough.”
Immediately, the invasive probing ended. I bent forward, hands on knees, to catch my breath. “That was some messed up crap. Let’s avoid ever doing that again.”
After taking a few seconds to recover, I stood and observed Jude. He hadn’t said a word since we started our little experiment, and by the euphoric look painted across his face, he was in no hurry to, so I spoke first.
“So? Was there a difference? Was the necromancer power like mine?”
He stood still with a slight back tilt of his head, like he was basking in the moonlight. “It was the same,” Jude said in a hushed tone. He tipped his head forward and stared at me with eyes a shimmering mocha, lighter and bolder than their usual hue. It was like someone flipped a switch, turning on a light behind those shiny orbs. "It was the same, but different, because your power is much more potent. It made me feel something. I could almost taste the chilled air flooding into my lungs, and it burned so sweet going down. I felt alive again,” he explained, his face looking awestricken. “I didn’t want the rush to end.”
My hand flew to my hip, and I jabbed a finger at him. "First, wipe that look off your face. It’s creepy. And second, I think you were draining my magic. Actually, I know you were." The words left my lips with no venom attached. I knew the attack against me wasn't intentional, so I was pissed off at the situation, not him. I mean, I did ask him to do it.
"Shit, Kris, you taste like life itself, with a dash of chocolate and cinnamon. To be honest, it was extremely hard to pull away. You know how much I love chocolate.”
He moved forward, closing the small gap between us, leaving our bodies only inches apart. I resisted the urge to flinch away. The last few minutes had left me gun shy, but I knew Jude, loved him, and trusted him as if he were my brother, so I kept still and watched as he lifted a hand to my face. The gesture was familiar; he had made it at least a hundred times before. His fingers inched closer, and when they met my cheek, I let out a startled yelp and jumped back.
Jude tumbled to the ground, his knees catching the brunt of the fall. With wide, rounded eyes, he stared at his hands. "Did you feel that?"
I lurched forward, landing in the dirt in front of him, our knees touching. “Look at me.”
Jude’s smile fell, the awe and confusion once there, quickly turning to shock. “What does this mean?”
“I have no idea,” I said, breathy.
My hands rushed all over his body, skimming across the warmth of his skin. Brain stutter…skin? Yes! It was skin! I squeezed an elbow and poked his cheek. I stared at the indentation my finger made. When released, it bounced back. My hands had met resistance everywhere they’d touched. This phenomenon couldn’t be possible, but it was happening. The proof was staring me straight in the face. Somehow, Jude had become corporeal. He was no longer a ghost!
Chapter Eight
I eased up from my crouch on the ground and stood. Kristina and her ghost-boy had almost caught me. My body still felt the pulse Jude sent out to track and investigate me. He was one powerful ghost. I would have never guessed the spirit packed that much punch.
After making sure they weren’t looking in my direction, I inched my way over to a tree a few yards in front of me. I hesitated before easing behind the next one, slowly but surely gaining headway. I had no real plan of action. I didn’t know what I would do next; I was winging it. All I knew for certain was that I wasn’t going to let Kristina face the danger alone. I didn’t give a crap if I had to slink around under the cover of darkness and trees to be there with her. To be honest, I had no choice.
Ever since our first meeting a couple of years back, I’d been drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I ached to be near her, the closer, the better. And I wasn’t afraid of the possible ensuing burn of her…more than likely, rejection.
She thought I kept calling to convince her to join the Center, but that wasn’t true. I remained in constant contact with Kristina because of one simple fact—the stubborn woman haunted me. She was never far from my thoughts, and if all I could have of her was a phone call every now and then, well, I accepted that.
Contrary to the fact that I was indeed sneaking around behind her back, following her, I wasn’t a sicko stalker. Unless she gave me a sign, showing me that she felt anything even remotely close to the passion I had resonating in my soul for her, I would leave her alone. If it hadn’t been for the kidnapping of her sister, I would still be limiting my interaction with her to phone calls that I drew out, stalling for a chance to hear the decadence of her soft and enchanting voice for a few seconds longer.
What the Hell? Rage thundered inside me as I witnessed both Jude and Kristina slam to the ground without warning. The beautiful enchantress—and her ghost—landing hard on their knees. Who the fuck is attacking my woman? I’ll murder them! But then, after realizing there wasn’t anyone around for miles, not a single evil being swarming in to finish them off while felled and vulnerable, making for easy targets, I was able to calm myself down.
Kristina could be in trouble. I sprinted forward. It was time to put my carefully constructed disguise to the test.
~~~
Jude and I stared at each other in silence. An expression of disbelief crossed Jude’s face.
“Is this really happening?” He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and squeezed. He was all smiles. “I imagine this is how Pinocchio felt, if he were really real. I’m a real boy!” He coughed into his hand, embarrassed by his show of glee. “I mean man, of course.”
“Oh, of course, you did.” I chuckled. His good humor was contagious. However, I was freaking out big time on the inside. I’d never seen anything like that before.
My eyes traveled his body, noticing the rise and fall of his chest and the subtle flush of red to his cheeks. He shivered uncontrollably.
“Are you cold?” That was a silly question. Of course, he was cold. As a ghost, he didn’t need a jacket, so all he was wearing was a t-shirt and jeans. Since he could feel things like temperature changes, he had to be feeling a lot like a popsicle.
Jude looked at me, teeth chattering. “I’m almost frozen, but couldn’t care less. Being an ice cube beats not feeling anyth
ing.”
“Come on,” I said, grabbing his arm and standing. I helped him to his feet, catching him when he stumbled. It took him a few seconds to get used to his new legs, but he caught on pretty quickly. “I think there’s something for you to wear in the car.”
I was able to find an old college sweater in the trunk. It was from NYU, the college I was supposed to have attended before having to drop everything to take care of my little sister. I only had mild regrets about missing the chance to further my education. The fact that my sister would be attending the same college in the fall filled me with warmth and pride.
Out of the shadows, a male voice asked, “Do you two need any help?”
I stopped dead in my tracks, pulling Jude close to my side. I reached behind my back. My fingers met with nothing but skin and the waistband of my jeans. The gun wasn’t there. I looked down, searching the ground. There it was, a few feet away, where I had tumbled to the ground with Jude. I must have dropped it or absently set it down in the process. Shit. Shit. Shit. I’d always been a klutz and quite accident prone, but that was ridiculous.
I tore my eyes from the gun. I had to keep it together. Maybe the guy was out for a late-night stroll, all by himself in the woods, while decked out in dark clothes. Not to mention, hiding is face behind a deep hood. Ah, who was I kidding? The guy was probably a serial killer, looking for a set of pretty white teeth to wear around his neck as a souvenir. My mouth slammed shut, just in case. He couldn’t covet what he couldn’t see, right?
Jude flared his nostrils and frowned. “You’re the necromancer I sensed earlier. Is there a reason you’ve been keeping to the shadows, following us?”
The guy was a necromancer? Not good. Could he be Torra’s kidnapper?
“Show me your face.” I took a step back. I had to drag Jude with me. It took three hard tugs for him to budge. His stubbornness frustrated me; that wasn’t the time to play tough guy. I didn’t know whom we were dealing with, and until I did, I would play my hand cautiously, because at that moment, I didn’t even have a decent high card to wager on.
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