“I know you say she’s a nice older woman, but she gives me the creeps,” said Taylor, shuddering again. “Plus, what kind of name is Pumpernickel?”
Emi grinned. “She can’t help her last name is the same as a kind of bread. She’s a talker, but she’s got a big heart.”
Taylor glanced around. “Not everything here does.”
She knew he was talking about the evil entity that lived there. He was right, that didn’t have a good heart at all. “Never show it any fear.”
“I don’t know how you do it. You get the worst of it here, but you stay.” He put his hand on her shoulder lightly. “Come with me to Colorado. I’ll buy your ticket. We can find work out there and get away from all this. We can make a life for ourselves there.”
Putting her hand over his, she sighed. Just as she suspected Helen Joy and Sam would do soon enough, Taylor had realized he’d reached his supernatural breaking point. “You’ve had enough of it all, haven’t you?”
She wasn’t just talking about the ghosts, those she knew those were a hot-button issue. Taylor had been having problems with the group he’d fallen into since coming to New Orleans—the gutter punks. They were a rough bunch of criminals. Sadly, he’d started to go that route as well, but had cleaned up his act. She could only hope he would decide to cut his hair and shave his face at some point too. Under all the scruffiness was a handsome man. She was sure of it.
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “Austin is pissed with me. I refused to do magik tricks down on Royal, so he’s got the whole crew looking for me. And I think he figured out I’m going home.”
Emi could only imagine how mad Austin was. He was the head of the group Taylor had run with and fancied himself a gang leader in a lot of respects. He wasn’t a good person. He’d beaten more than one person to the point they’d ended up in the hospital.
“Did he hurt you?” she asked, worried for Taylor. More than once, Austin had injured Taylor. Her friend wasn’t a fighter.
He shook his head. “No, but only because he’s scared to come in here after the last time.”
She hid her smile. There were perks to living in a haunted house. The one and only time Austin had entered the house, he’d found himself instantly on the wrong side of Fredrick’s patience. Fredrick had lived in the home since before New Orleans was even a city. He was well aware that he’d passed, and had no intentions of leaving. He would be forever earthbound if he got his way.
That was fine by her, she loved him dearly. He was protective of her and she appreciated it. He’d not taken kindly to Austin and his threats. By the time Fredrick was done pulling a full-on poltergeist, Austin was screaming and running down the street like a bear was chasing him.
The memory still made her laugh.
It had also been the only time Taylor had laughed about the paranormal activity within the home.
Taylor closed his eyes. “Living this kind of life is not what I’d thought it would be.”
“No. I expect not,” she said, surprised it had taken him this long to realize he wasn’t cut out for a life on the streets.
He had a choice.
She didn’t.
If she tried to live a real life, there was a chance what killed her mother would find her. While she wasn’t exactly sure what it was, she knew it was more than human. And she knew it had terrified her uncle, who didn’t fear much.
No. She didn’t get options.
She was alone in the world, and it was best she remain so. She’d taken a risk becoming close friends with people in the city. She knew better. Everyone around her always ended up hurt or dead. It was why she kept Taylor and the others she’d met since arriving in the city at a bit of an emotional distance. They knew some of what she was capable of, but they didn’t know her backstory, and they never would. Not if she could help it. She wanted them safe. Bringing them into her world of darkness fully would lead nowhere good.
“Thank you for offering to take me with you, but here is where I’m supposed to be,” she said softly. Though she had to admit that the idea of running away from it all was appealing. “At least for now. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”
He squeezed her shoulder gently and his emotions ran over her, another curse of her gift. “You shouldn’t be here in this place alone. It’s not safe.”
She nearly laughed. The haunted building that had a dark entity inhabiting it was far safer than what she’d faced in her life. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Taylor moved his backpack around to his front and unzipped it. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. When she opened it, her eyes widened. There had to be at least five thousand dollars there.
“Take that and find a safer place to live, Emi. Get on a train. A bus. A plane. Whatever. Go anywhere but here. You see dead people and are living in a city filled with dead people. There’s something in this house that needs a team of priests to get it out, and you keep going out in the city and battling even scarier shit. You think I don’t know about what you do out there, but I hear things. It’s not safe for you. Come away with me.”
She thrust the envelope back at him. “I can’t accept that. Thank you, though.”
He put his hands over hers, refusing to take the money back. “My parents send me this much and more each month. It’s pocket change to them. Take it. I don’t need it, but you do.”
“Taylor,” she stressed. While his gesture was incredibly kindhearted and generous, she didn’t feel comfortable accepting the money.
“Emi,” he returned, his gaze stern, saying he wouldn’t waver. “You were there for me when I lost my way. Let me be here for you now.”
She didn’t want the money, but it was clear he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Emi eased the envelope from his hands and then hugged him, her five-foot-six-inch frame seeming small in comparison to his well over six-foot one. While he wasn’t a fighter, he had the body of one. She suspected that came from all the skateboarding he did around the city.
Taylor’s arms wrapped around her and he held her to him, longer than one should for a friendly embrace. She let him, knowing he’d worry about her while he was away. She hoped he found what he was looking for back home and decided to stay near his family. If she still had family left, she’d have moved heaven and earth to be near them.
“Send word through Hector when you get settled in out there,” she said, stepping back and ending the hug. The urge to cry was there, but she resisted, knowing if she broke down, Taylor would never leave. He’d stay for her and, in the end, Austin and his crew would hurt him, or Taylor would get wrapped up in drugs again and lose himself.
Taylor met her gaze then dug in his bag again before pulling out a cell phone. “Here. It’s a prepaid one. I’ll worry less with you having it.”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you, but technology and I have a longstanding history of not getting along.” It was the truth. She tried to avoid anything technology-wise as much as possible. For some reason, she tended to make watches stop, phones break without any sign as to why, and computers simply die on her. She never bothered owning a television or anything of worth because her body would somehow manage to short it out without warning or reason.
Driving a car seemed unwise, with all the issues she had with anything electronic. Besides, the city offered everything she needed to be mobile.
He snorted. “Come on, Emi. Take the phone. I’m not accepting no as an answer.”
“Taylor, it’s for the best if you just write to Hector,” she stressed. He’d not been around when she’d made the small microwave he’d gotten them explode by simply standing too close to it for an extended period. To this day, he thought she’d put something metal in it by mistake. “He’ll make sure I get your letters, and I can send you responses through the mail.”
Bending, he kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re adorable. You know that, right?”
She stepped back, wanting to avoid encouraging him more. She’d sensed his feelings for h
er had started to change over the months they’d known one another, but she’d hoped it would pass. That he’d see she only wanted friendship from him. Emi had never had any real interest in finding Mr. Right, or any man for that matter. She liked her life as it was, uncomplicated. Besides, who would want to be with a woman who spoke to the dead and vanquished evil spirits, not to mention spent most of her life being hunted by a boogieman?
She didn’t think too many men would want that baggage. Taylor didn’t know everything about her, and for good reason.
“Have a safe journey home,” she said, looking up at him.
With a sigh, he eased past her in the hall and then paused. She used his moment of distraction to shove the envelope full of money back into his bag. She’d meant what she’d said. She couldn’t accept it. She worked for everything she had.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Are you sure I can’t entice you to join me? My parents have been at me for ages to bring home a nice girl.”
With a snort, she pushed on his backpack. “Get going there, buddy. And trust me when I say your parents would not be happy if you brought home a girl who sees dead people and other people’s pasts and futures.”
He laughed. “Are you kidding? My mom is all into having her fortune read. I’ve already told her about you more than once, and that you read tarot cards. She’s wanted to meet you for months. Plus, I think she sort of wants to thank you for getting me to see the light and come home.”
“Get going,” she said with a smile. “And stay out of trouble.”
“Will you look after Rocky for me?” he asked, a note of sorrow in his voice.
Rocky, the stray dog that Taylor had sort of adopted, tended to come and go from the building as it pleased. He was a sweet mutt that was a mix of too many types of dogs to ever be able to identify its breed.
“Of course. That goes without saying.”
Taylor teared up, but headed for the end of the hall all the same.
Chapter Five
Emi hurried in the direction of the staircase that led to the upper level of the old home. She didn’t dare look back, already feeling Taylor’s gaze on her, heating her as she walked. He needed to go to Colorado and get far from the city. There was something dark in town that scared her far more than the entity in the house, more than the thing haunting Helen Joy and Sam.
The less-than-pleasant entity in Emi’s home liked to toss things around and tug at her hair while whispering threats. Whatever was in the city, hunting, was far more dangerous. It had killed more than once, and it wouldn’t stop until someone destroyed it.
“That someone might have to be you,” she whispered to herself.
She made it to the top of the stairs and walked wide, to the left. The floor was weak in the center. Fredrick, her favorite of the spirits haunting the home, said it was dry rot, and had wanted her to ask Taylor to fix it. Taylor wasn’t really handy so she’d never bothered.
“He has feelings for you.”
Emi kept walking, smiling as she heard the voice of someone she considered a friend. She didn’t bother turning around. She knew nothing would be there. Fredrick only showed himself to her when he felt like it. The fact he was living-challenged didn’t stop him from weighing in on her personal life whenever he got the chance. He had an opinion on everything and always had her best interests at heart.
He’d become something like family to her, and she appreciated him knowing she didn’t quite want to be alone just yet. It hurt that Taylor was leaving, but it truly was for the best. Nothing good would come from him remaining in the city. He needed to be home and with his family.
“He thinks he has feelings for me,” she corrected as she walked down the hall in the direction of the room she’d claimed for herself.
“If you say so,” said Fredrick with a soft chuckle. There was a grandfather quality about him that had always appealed to her. She’d never known any of her grandparents, and her uncle had always teared up when she asked—so she’d stopped asking.
She knew he was close at her heels even though he wasn’t showing himself. She could feel his presence. The smell of tobacco mixed with oranges always accompanied his arrival.
She exhaled slowly, knowing Fredrick was right. “Taylor and I aren’t meant to be together. It would never work.”
“Because he’s human and you’re not?” asked Fredrick.
In life, he’d been like her, more than human. He was tight-lipped on just how much more, but she knew he was something. She cringed. “Yes, and there is the fact I don’t see him in the same light. He’s my friend. Nothing more.”
“I know that. Sad that he doesn’t seem to let it soak in fully,” said Fredrick.
Emi nodded. “I need to rest and then get ready to do some readings tonight.”
“You’re not planning to go to the square, are you?” demanded Fredrick as she entered her room. “That darkness is still out there and the French Quarter has become its favorite hunting grounds. You will deny it, but I think it's hunting you.”
So did she, but admitting it out loud wasn’t something she could do. It would only cause Fredrick to worry more. He’d been dead long enough to have a good deal of power, plus, the fact he’d been more than human while alive only added to it. He could make it difficult for her to leave the house if he wanted to. And he would if he thought he was protecting her.
She loved him for that. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m okay. I promise. And I have to work.”
“You could just guess the lotto numbers,” he said, only half joking.
“What do you know about the lotto?”
He snorted. “People who have lived here over the years have had televisions and radios. I learn things.”
She laughed. “Look at you, you man of the world.”
He chuckled as well, and then the feel of him grew stronger. “Maybe take tonight off. Stay in. Something feels off out there.”
“I’ll think about it. For now, I want a bath and then rest,” she said, turning around in the room near the bed.
The old iron bed frame had been left behind sometime over the years. Its size was part of the issue, as was the fact that it tended to shake on its own—which had more to do with spirits than it did the frame itself. Anyway, it had come to remain in the home and had ended up hers. It had a newer mattress that Hector and Taylor had helped her carry in a few months back. Before that, she’d slept on the worn old one. It hadn’t been pretty or smelled great, but it had been a place to lay her head out of the weather.
More than once she’d not been provided that luxury, and she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
The room was sparsely furnished, but she didn’t have much, so it was perfect for her. In one corner was a folding table and two chairs that she often took to Jackson Square to read tarot cards for tourists. She had two different cloths she used as table coverings, alternating between them as the mood struck. One was a deep, shiny purple and the other was a matte black. To the side of the table and chairs was a clothing rod on wheels.
Taylor had found it for her when someone had put it out for trash pick-up. He’d brought it back to the house and hung up her clothing for her. She’d been touched by the gesture, as it had been the first time in years that she’d felt somewhat moved into a location. Normally she simply lived out of a duffle bag. She didn’t have much in the way of clothing, but what she did have suited her personality. She liked long, flowing skirts, tank tops, sweaters, and scarves.
To the far right of the room lay a black velvet bag. In it was her deck of tarot cards that had been passed down to her from her uncle. Next to it was a bag that was similar in size but held various crystals. She looked at the small shelving unit near them and sighed. Her herbs, crystals, and candles were all out of order.
“The demon was up to no good again,” said Fredrick, sounding tired. He and a few other spirits in the house had started to take a stand against the evil that had taken up residence there. Prio
r to Emi’s arrival, all the spirits had lived in fear of the dark entity. Not anymore—and it was losing strength because of it.
“Jerk,” she said to it, knowing it was listening. “I’m going to shove a white candle up its backside if it keeps messing up my shelf.”
Fredrick laughed and then showed himself. He wore clothing indicative of the time he’d lived. In his late fifties, he’d lived a long life for his time. He’d been murdered in the house and there ever since. Though she’d offered to help him move on, he’d elected to stay and watch over the other spirits that remained. He had taken on a fatherly role to everyone, including her. In some ways, his protective energy reminded her of her uncle, whom she missed terribly.
Emi went to the window and looked out at the rising sun. With the sunrise came a reprieve from the feeling that whatever darkness was in the city was looking for her. She’d learned early on that it didn’t prowl the streets of NOLA during the daylight hours.
Her uncle had explained creatures like the one who made the dark energy to her when she was little, making sure she was prepared for what life would bring. He had told her tales of her family’s legacy, of their history, and how they’d always walked parallel to the creatures of the night. How they were a counterbalance of sorts. She’d always thought his tales to be silly stories. Something he’d invented to help explain away her parents’ deaths when she was still too little to remember them passing. It wasn’t until she’d seen the truth of it all with her own eyes that she knew her uncle hadn’t been telling tall tales.
He’d been preparing her for life.
A lone tear escaped her as she thought of her uncle. Yanko had died at the hands of a monster and, from that point forward, she’d been on her own, making a go of it. Now, at twenty-four, she wondered if this would always be the way of it. Would she always live off the grid, barely getting by, letting only a few people into her inner circle?
Area of Influence (Immortal Ops Book 8) Page 5