Deborah raised her hands in surrender, one of the few times Alexia had seen her do so.
“Fine, sorry. So what about Garth?”
“He helped me when I needed it most. To be honest, I owe him my sanity. Garth has the same ability I do, one Xander referred to as The Sight. The best way I can explain it is how he explained it to me. He said that we all exist in the real world, a world referred to as The Visible Layer. When someone dies they’re supposed to depart from this world, but sometimes spirits get trapped, unable to move on. The realm between this life and the next is called The Concealed Layer. It’s a place most people can’t see. Why spirits get stuck here no one knows, but my best guess is that they have unfinished business in The Visible Layer. Xander did. He needed to avenge his death…something he couldn’t do on his own. As I said, most people can’t see those in The Concealed Layer. But a few can. Apparently I’m one of them, someone with The Sight. Whether it was by fate, divine intervention, or simply chance, I’ll never know. But I was able to see Xander, when no one else could. I was able to help him pass on to wherever he is now. The place he’s supposed to be.”
Alexia’s tears had dried by the time she finished, and a hint of a smile graced her face. She had done the right thing by telling them. She had wanted to for so long. Hearing the story spoken outright didn’t sound as crazy as she’d expected it to sound. She’d chosen the right words—Xander’s words. The same ones he’d used to make a believer out of her.
She kept her chin raised as she waited for a response. Her friends’ expressions shifted with incredulity, but not ridicule. The second she recognized that, her smile inched wider. She wasn’t asking for full acceptance, she just wanted them to consider the possibility. Which they were. Even Deborah.
After a brooding moment, Carrie spoke first.
“It’s a lot to take in, but the more I think about it, the more everything ties together. There were things you knew that you couldn’t have known…impossible things.”
Amy’s tone was more hesitant. “I agree with Carrie that this is going to take some time to process. And as much as I’m open to the possibility—you know me, I would never, ever touch a Ouijia board—I still think we should spend some time exploring all the options. Maybe there’s something you haven’t considered before.”
Alexia smiled genuinely, thankful Amy was at least hearing her out, even if they weren’t on the same page—yet.
They all turned to Deborah together. She was coiling a flaming red strand of hair around her finger. Her eyes were just as wild, opened wide and eager.
“Did you bang a ghost?”
Alexia’s face burned as red as Deborah’s locks.
It brightened further when Deborah laughed. “You did! Why, Alexia Brooks, you sly dog. I’ve never been jealous of your love life…until now. Tell me, what was it like?”
“If you’re lucky she might tell you another time. Probably after a few martinis,” Carrie said, coming to her rescue. “But right now, I’d say she has something else on her mind.”
Alexia wished she had nothing more to say, wanting it to be like one of the times she’d fantasized about. One where she had told her friends her secret with no hidden agenda, told them only out of her desire for them to learn the truth. But that wasn’t the case. She had told them now only to reveal something else.
Slowly, ashamedly, she nodded. “I thought Xander would be the first and last. I had a special connection with him. I know I said I wasn’t sure if it was fate or chance, but a few days ago, if I had to guess, I’d lean toward fate. Now, I’m not so sure. I think it might be happening again…happening with someone else.”
Deborah shot upright like she’d been pricked in the butt with a pin. “Another hot guy? Oh my god, is it Leo? But I can see him too. We all can! Does that mean we all have The Sight?”
Alexia fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “It’s not Leo, but it might as well be for that exact reason; everyone can see the person I think it is. Still, I know what I saw today. It wasn’t a dream. And last night…she was there. She was, but she wasn’t…”
“Who? Start from the beginning,” Amy interrupted, desperately trying to understand all the facts thoroughly.
Without further ado, Alexia recounted everything that had happened with Chloe since she first landed in Paris. It was hard to sound convincing because she hardly believed it herself. By the time she got to Chloe’s supposed suicide that morning, her voice came out as dry and hollow as the winter air.
Amy’s reply confirmed her lack of conviction.
“It’s a very strange series of incidents, but there’s one thing I can’t get past. Chloe is alive, Alexia. We can all see her. She hasn’t died. She’s real.”
The firmness of Amy’s tone left no room for doubt to creep between the syllables of her words.
Alexia slumped her shoulders wearily.
“I know, that’s the part I’m confused about too. But at the same time, that’s how I saw Xander. To me, he was alive. Living, breathing, whole, just like you or me. Maybe Chloe’s spirit is stronger. Maybe she has the ability to reach more people…to be seen by everyone.”
“Okay, that’s one possibility, but have you considered any others? Look, I’m not trying to be condescending, but you’ve had a rough few months of training, plus the travel, and jet lag. Is there even a small chance you’ve been pushing yourself too hard? Hallucinations are a common side effect of exhaustion. Not to mention whatever Chloe gave you might still be in your system. It could be drug-induced—”
Amy stopped abruptly, but Alexia finished her sentence.
“Drug-induced psychosis. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”
As much as it annoyed her, Alexia couldn’t be angry with Amy for coming to the only other logical explanation Alexia had considered. However, despite the logic, Alexia didn’t feel it was the right answer. Amy hadn’t been there, hadn’t experienced what she had the past few days. Something sinister was at play. Thinking about Chloe unleashed the same chilling feeling she sometimes felt when she lay awake in the dead of night, certain someone was watching from the dark shadows of her room. An evil tainted the Opéra Magique. A haunting that ran deep through its walls.
Carrie met them in the middle.
“Let’s play out both situations. On one hand, you’re tired, exhausted, possibly still suffering side effects from whatever it was you took. Maybe Amy is right and this whole thing will blow over after a good night’s sleep. But, on the other hand, say Chloe really is a spirit caught between worlds. What then? Why can we all see her? And most importantly, why is she still here?”
A troubled silence fell over the apartment, Alexia in the deepest thought of them all.
“Xander was stuck here because he needed to avenge his death,” she said in time. “But I get the hunch that isn’t the case with Chloe.”
“Why do you say that?” Carrie asked, blue eyes engaged.
“It’s weird. Everyone thinks of ghosts as these terrifying supernatural entities. Things that give substance to your deepest, darkest fears. But when I was with Xander, I felt the complete opposite. He never scared me. Well, unless it was for fun.” She smiled, reflecting on his penchant for the odd practical joke. “I always felt safe with him. I knew he would never hurt me. But with Chloe…what I saw today is going to haunt me forever. I don’t get why she would have done it, or why she would have put me in such a dangerous situation last night. It’s like she’s out to get me…trying to break me down.”
Alexia sensed the smirk cross Amy’s face before she lifted her gaze to meet it.
“What?”
Amy levelled her eyes at Alexia in a way that commanded her full attention.
“Chloe’s not dead. But she is terrorizing you. And I know why.”
“Enlighten me.”
Amy rose from the sofa, smoothing her wide-leg pants as she stood. She crossed the living room, stopping just short of the arched window enclosed by a French balcony. The S
eine sparkled in the darkness beyond its glass. Amy kept her vision locked on it as she spoke, her face hidden from view as if she was revealing something she didn’t want to reveal.
“She doesn’t want to break you down. She wants to bring you down. She’s spent enough time with you on stage now. Seen your talent. My guess is she’s jealous.”
Alexia couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“Jealous? No way. Not in a million years. Chloe Monet is ten times the dancer I’ll ever be.”
She looked to Carrie and Deborah for agreement, but Carrie dodged her gaze, and Deborah scrunched her nose.
“You’ve always been your own worst enemy,” Amy continued, finally turning back to Alexia. “You’re good, Alexia. You’re so freaking talented, and it hurts that you have such a hard time acknowledging it. But the fact isn’t lost on the rest of us, and it’s certainly not lost on Chloe. Maybe you’re not as good as her yet, I haven’t seen her perform so I couldn’t say, but if you’re not now, you will be. Every time she watches you, she sees her title as the world’s best ballerina being slowly stripped away. I bet she’s trying to scare you to the same degree that you scare her. She roofied you, for God’s sake! Who’s to say she only slipped you something the one time? She might have been spiking your water bottle since the first day you landed…since your first vision.”
Alexia listened attentively, opening further to Amy’s idea the longer she spoke. It made sense. More sense than Chloe being a ghost the entire world could see. And although Alexia still couldn’t believe that Chloe was terrorizing her out of jealousy, it was possible that she’d done something else to piss her off.
She needed to think. Chloe hadn’t actually put her in danger until after Marque’s party. She had drunk quite a bit that night. Had she accidentally said something that Chloe had taken the wrong way? Doubtful. She idolized Chloe too much. A malicious thought wouldn’t have entered her mind in a million years. So what else could have gotten under Chloe’s skin? Her friends? Deborah had been making out with Pierre all night, but that didn’t seem to warrant the extent of her behavior.
Think. What else happened that night?
The thought entered her mind like a jolt of lightning. Alexia’s back straightened as if it had been jerked up by a marionette string.
Leo.
That was the night she had met Leo. Then Alexia shook her head, reminding herself of Marque. Chloe had a boyfriend. And even if she didn’t, she could’ve had any man she wanted, including Leo.
Or could she? Leo didn’t like her. Alexia knew it, and she guessed Chloe did too.
The creases in Alexia’s brow deepened the longer she brooded. If it was Leo, she was screwed. Be it love or lust, she knew she couldn’t keep away from him, regardless of the consequences. She was too invested now.
“Why don’t you just ask her what her deal is?” Deborah suggested. “If she’s as conniving as me, I bet she’d enjoy being called out on it. It would give her an opportunity to take credit for her master plan.”
Carrie turned to her with a puzzled expression. “You’re saying that if you plotted something that took you a painful amount of time and energy to plan and keep secret, when asked, you’d come clean on the spot? Ruin all your hard work?”
Deborah flicked her hair behind her shoulders. “Sure. It’s the price you pay for vanity. And after meeting Chloe, I can tell you that she’s not short on the stuff.”
“So then we ask her,” Amy decided, returning to the sofa in two quick strides.
“No. Alexia has to ask her. She won’t come clean to a crowd, she’ll concede in private.”
Carrie shook her head violently, poker-straight hair whooshing around her neck like the blades of a fan. “Are you nuts? This girl almost got Alexia killed, and she’s been drugging her for God knows how long. Alexia should not be alone with her under any circumstances. In fact, we should report her to the police.”
“No,” Alexia said quickly. “No way. I’m not reporting her until I get to the bottom of this. Plus, the show’s tomorrow. The reason I’m here. The reason we’re all here.”
“Screw the show! Your life could be in danger, and you’re worried about one performance? Are you hearing yourself? Why are you still defending her? Stop idolizing her. She’s not someone you should look up to, or respect. Just because she’s talented doesn’t give her a get-out-of-jail-free card for being a sociopath. Let me ask you this; if it had been any other cast member, would you have considered going to the police?”
Alexia couldn’t answer. There were too many variables, and it wasn’t just because they were talking about Chloe. There was no evidence to support the claim, and it wasn’t even a claim she was sure was true. Before doing anything rash, she needed to talk to Chloe…or someone who knew her better than she did.
“I’m with Deborah, I need more information. But I’ll get it from a safe source. Leo’s known her for a while, and he dislikes her for a reason. Let me see if I can get anything substantial from him.”
“We’ll go with you,” Amy offered.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll get more out of him alone.”
“Yeah, you will,” Deborah winked.
Alexia rolled her eyes as she stood, blood pumping with fresh energy. Carrie grabbed her wrist as she reached for her bag.
“Promise me that you won’t see Chloe alone. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. For her sake, I hope she’s dead. Anyone that would mess with someone the way she’s messed with you is seriously not right in the head. Alive or not, she’s dangerous.”
Alexia dipped her head with all the seriousness she could muster.
“I promise.”
“And will you stay here tonight? For my peace of mind?”
“As long as Deborah doesn’t have any guests. Big day tomorrow. I need all the sleep I can get.”
All eyes turned to the person in question.
“You’re really going to ask that of me? On our second to last night in Paris?”
“We’re going to ask it of you tomorrow as well,” Carrie said. “Chloe’s well connected in the city. It wouldn’t be hard for her to get access to Alexia’s room. I don’t want her staying there by herself overnight.”
Alexia thought it was a bit overboard, but couldn’t bring herself to protest. She had sought her friend’s advice, and this was the advice they were giving her. Dramatic or not, they had her best interest at heart. It was without resentment or hesitation when she replied, “I’ll be back by nine.”
Before the door closed to her friends’ apartment, Alexia had her phone in hand, writing Leo a text.
Free for a chat?
His reply binged through less than a minute later.
Depends… With who?
The corners of Alexia’s mouth raised into a smile.
Your new favorite person.
His reply was instant.
My mom’s out of town. But there’s a close runner up in the city, and I’d love to see her.
She rolled her eyes.
Can you come by the hotel?
The few seconds he took to reply felt like an eternity.
Be there in twenty. What’s your room number?
Her heart fluttered as she replied, the thought of Leo in her hotel room taking form. It wasn’t her brightest idea. She could barely sit across from him in a restaurant without wanting to jump his bones. The lobby bar would have been a safer choice. After all, she needed to pick his brain, not his lips. But the discussion required absolute privacy. Pinching the flush from her cheeks, Alexia hurried across the cold streets of Paris, carefully considering the most appropriate questions to ask Leo, in the most appropriate way. Which, she decided, would be sitting as far away from each other as humanly possible.
CHAPTER 12
Alexia had just sat down when a loud knock sounded on the door. The noise penetrated the quiet room with such a startling volume, Alexia twitched.
Get it together.
The racing of her heart didn’t slow d
own as she made her way across the soft, sinking carpet to reach for the doorknob.
Leo looked as ravishing as always. The epitome of Parisian style with his leather jacket and tight jeans that flaunted the definition of his legs. His bangs were windswept, exposing the sultry shade of his eyes in the dim hallway lighting.
“Feeling better?” he asked, swooping in for her cheeks.
Resisting the urge to touch the spot on her skin where his lips had just vacated, Alexia took a second to respond. Swallowing, she nodded before stepping aside for him to enter.
She had dragged the two armchairs an extra couple of feet apart, hoping more distance between them would help her stay concentrated on the interrogation instead of the curvature of his mouth.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked, sweeping a hand in the direction of the antique drink trolley.
Leo eyed the decorative piece surreptitiously.
“Are you having one?”
She shook her head, the night before still raw in her memory. “Best if I don’t.”
Nothing in Leo’s grin was condescending. “I think that’s a wise choice. You sit, I’ll get us some water.”
Unable to argue against his resolve, Alexia fell into one of the velvet chairs, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater as she waited. The material was soft between her fingers, comforting, and she soon zoned out, unaware of Leo’s shadow falling over her. He placed the glass on the table beside her. When it hit with a clang, she looked up with the wide eyes of a startled cat.
Leo crouched until he was eye level with her, placing a hand over her knee. The touch sent her stomach into turmoil. She gazed up to see if any of her desire was mirrored in his face, but no other emotion pervaded his worried expression.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
Her lips parted, ready to expel a fresh lie, but another look at Leo made her consider the question. In time, she bit back her first thought in exchange for the truth.
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”
For a brief second, Leo left her side to pull up the chair that Alexia had so carefully placed a safe distance away. He pushed it right up against hers so that his hand could rest on her leg as they spoke.
Black Frost Winter: The Black Seasons Book Two Page 15