by Tee, Marian
"You did what?"
It was a good thing the average human couldn't hear ghosts, or the few other people around us would've thought I had just told Nana I killed her pet poodle or something.
"I did say might," I pointed out weakly.
"Oh, child!" Nana floated off her seat and began pacing restlessly mid-air. "There is no might about this. Did you or did you not have sex with it?"
"He's not an 'it'!"
"Oh my Lord." Nana looked as if she was about to have a heart attack now. "You sound as if you're in love with him, too!"
"I'm not." And I wasn't. Right?
Nana started wringing her hands. "This is so very bad, my dear."
"But only if Mary Priscilla and the others are right—-" My voice trailed off at the incredulous look the older woman shot my way.
"How can you still have doubts about this?"
"I just think—-"
"But you aren't thinking, and that's the problem. You aren't looking at this objectively at all because you're already under its—-" I frowned at Nana, and the older woman let out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, alright, his then. You are clearly under his influence already—-"
"All I'm saying," I argued, "is that the evidence Mary Priscilla gave isn't sufficient."
"Isn't it?" Nana floated back to her seat and looked at me straight in the eye. "Mary Priscilla said that she spoke with the other ghosts in your building, yes?"
I was about to nod when I remembered that I was supposed to be on the phone. "Uh, yes."
"And how did they describe him?"
"That he was a figure in black," I admitted reluctantly, "just that. Not one of them could describe him further than that. It was as if he was hidden under a cloud of shadows..." Like the ones in my nightmare, I thought, but the words remained stuck in my throat.
"And they feared him, didn't they?"
Terrified was more like it, I thought, remembering the way Mary Priscilla hadn't been able to stop glancing over her shoulder every so often, as if she expected Hadrian to drag her into Hell any moment.
But even so...
"I just can't believe he's the Man in Black," I confessed unhappily. "Can't just everybody be wrong about him?" It might be statistically improbable, but it wasn't entirely impossible either. "He simply doesn't feel evil—-"
"Of course he doesn't," Nana almost snapped. "Do you think evil creatures such as him are able to get away with doing evil things by revealing the truth about themselves? Do you think Mammon would simply walk up to his next human target and introduce himself as the Demon of Greed?"
And there was the D-word I had been dreading, and sadly, it was even worse than 'douchebag' and 'dickhead'.
"You must avoid him at all costs, child. The Man in Black is too powerful—-"
"He's just human like me—-"
"You know that's not true," Nana said flatly. "Remember what happened to the last ghost that had attempted to enter his apartment."
A poltergeist, Mary Priscilla had revealed in trembling tones, and one whose head was cut off upon trying to pass through the front door.
"Maybe he's got a really good security system?"
Nana threw her hands up in a visible fit of frustration. "You must take this seriously, Saoirse."
I knew she was right, but something inside of me still refused to believe that Hadrian was the Man in Black just like that. I needed more proof, and in cases like this, there could only be one way to find out the truth.
HADRIAN LOOKED HIS usual gorgeous self when he strode inside St. Michael the Archangel Church.
The bad news: he was still dressed in black from top to bottom, which totally didn't help his case.
The good news: he didn't catch fire upon stepping on holy ground, and he didn't even flinch the slightest bit when, upon reaching me, I "accidentally" splashed a whole bottle of holy water on his face.
There were a couple of loud gasps from the other churchgoers, but I didn't dare take my eyes off Hadrian's face, which remained beautiful...and unblemished.
Yes! Yes! Yes!
I felt weak with relief, and I couldn't keep myself from grinning like a fool. "I'm so, so sorry about that."
"You sound very much like it, too." Hadrian's tone, albeit dry, was also underscored with amusement.
A total gentleman through and through, which was the very opposite of the D-word that every dead person in Portland seemed to think he was.
"I'm really very sorry..." I finally managed to find the pack of tissues in my bag and pulled out a sheet. "Here..." I only meant to hand it to him, but then I saw Hadrian raise his brow at me.
Oh.
I found myself biting my lip even as I slowly reached up to wipe one side of his face with slightly trembling fingers. His skin was hard and smooth under my touch, and I was so badly tempted to have another "accident" just so I could reacquaint myself with the texture of his lips..
"Sorry about this again," I said softly.
"Hm."
"It really was an accident."
"Of course."
The dryness of his tone had me fighting back a smile. "You think I did it deliberately?" I glanced up as I spoke, wanting to see his face when he answered me.
"We both know you did." His voice was calm, and his silvery gaze only reflected curiosity. "I'm just waiting for you to tell me why."
And that was that.
He wasn't angry at all, and that could only mean one thing. Hadrian was not the Man in Black. He was just too nice to be the D-word, and I simply needed to find a way to prove this to the other ghosts.
But first—-
Three tissues later, and I could finally take a small step back to observe my handiwork. "All done," I assured him.
"Thanks."
I ignored the sardonic note in Hadrian's voice and instead pointed to the small garden at the back of the church. "Can we go there and talk?"
Hadrian took my hand as we walked, and he led us to one of the stone benches scattered around the garden. I waited until we were both seated before clearing my throat. "So..."
"Is this about me leaving in the middle of the night?"
"Uh..." So much had happened that it actually took me a second to understand what he was talking about. "No, it's, um, not that. It's...something else."
Hadrian's gaze narrowed. "Is this about the...stray?"
"Err...no." I was genuinely taken aback. Where did that even come from?
"You're certain?"
"It really was just a stray, you know." I saw the hardened edges of his jaw relax, and my confusion grew. Maybe he finally realized that stray cat wasn't as handsome as he thought it was?
I felt Hadrian's grip tighten slightly, and it made me glance up.
"You can tell me anything," Hadrian invited.
I managed a smile. "I really hope you mean that," I told him, "since what I'm about to tell you is something that will probably make you think I'm crazy."
"Saoirse..." Hadrian's tone was gentle. "Stop beating around the bush."
Fine then.
I looked at him in the eye and just said it.
"I can see ghosts."
Silence.
"I'm not joking."
"I didn't say you were."
"It's the truth," I insisted. "I can really see ghosts—-"
"I believe you."
"I know how crazy—-" Wait. "What did you say?"
Hadrian's calm expression didn't change as he repeated his words. "I believe you."
I stared at him in shock. "Seriously?"
His lips twitched, but he responded obligingly all the same. "Seriously."
"But why?" I asked incredulously. "You should've at least wondered if I was crazy or hallucinating. You can't just—-" My eyes widened. "You wouldn't believe me just like that unless..." I held my breath. "Can you see ghosts, too?" When I saw Hadrian seem to hesitate, I said eagerly, "It's alright. I won't think you're crazy either. But that's it, isn't it? You can see ghosts, too?"
There
was a rather long moment of silence before Hadrian finally spoke.
"Yes, I can."
Oh, thank God.
"And talk to them as well?" I asked excitedly.
A frown marred Hadrian's forehead. "Why are you asking me these things?"
"Because the ghosts think you're the Man in Black," I revealed with a shake of my head. "Crazy, right?"
"Ah."
"They have their reasons though," I told him in a rush, "so please don't be mad at them."
"What do you know about the Man in Black?"
A huge burden seemed to have lifted from my shoulders as I told him how Nana made me realize about my new "abilities" and had warned me later on about the Man in Black. Throughout it, I peeked at his expression every so often, but Hadrian's impassive mask didn't even crack a single time.
Which was a good thing...right?
"All of the ghosts only seem to avoid him out of instinct," I shared, "and when I asked them why, none of them could give me a straight answer. They can't even agree on what he is exactly, but if you ask me, I'm pretty sure I've figured out the truth."
"Which is?"
"He's the D-word."
Hadrian was visibly bemused.
"D as in demon, silly."
Hadrian's gaze turned chilly at my words. Maybe he didn't like being called silly? I started to apologize, but he beat me to speaking.
"Why can't it be the A-word?"
It was my turn to be confused. "Like asshole?"
Hadrian looked as if he wanted to strangle me now for some reason. "I meant angel."
"Oh, right." I wrinkled my nose. "I don't think that's possible. I mean, duh. Angels don't make ghosts run away in terror."
"Which you're certain of..." Hadrian's tone was solemn.
"Of course."
"Because you know a lot of angels, I take it?"
I pretended not to hear this. "Anyway, we're getting off topic. We need to prove to them that you're not what they think you are, and I think the best way to do that is to have you meet them—-" I stopped speaking when I saw Hadrian wince ever so slightly. "You don't want to meet with them?"
"Not...exactly."
I waited for him to say more, but he didn't, and it left me stumped. "I suppose I could explain to them on your behalf," I said doubtfully, "but it's not going to carry the same weight." I tried but failed to imagine how I'd be able to properly explain things to the ghosts, like why it was that they could only see Hadrian as this fuzzy figure in black and why all of them had this seemingly pre-built fear of his presence...
Come to think of it, why was he so different from me? We could both see ghosts, but our similarities ended there. He terrified ghosts, while I'd be lucky to make a single dead person blink. Maybe that meant...
"Could you be cursed, do you think?" I blurted out.
"Er...no."
My shoulders slumped. A curse could've explained a lot of things, but oh well. "It doesn't matter," I said finally. "Let's just go as originally planned, and have you meet some of the ghosts. Nana and Mary Priscilla are like family to me, and—-"
"Saoirse—-"
"They need to know you're not—-"
"But I am."
I laughed, thinking he was joking, but Hadrian remained unsmiling. "Stop it." But this only made his jaw harden, and I started feeling uneasy. "This isn't funny anymore."
"I'm sorry you had to learn about it this way."
"Shut up."
"I'm sorry, Saoirse."
I stared at him helplessly, waiting for him to take the words back.
But he didn't.
"I d-don't understand," I stammered. "It's not possible. You're here in church. You can't be in church if you're—-"
"The D-word?"
I paled. "Are y-you?" Could Hadrian be a demon?
"No." Hadrian's voice was gentle. "But I am the Man in Black."
Chapter Nine
"Let me see if I got all of it right then..." Hadrian and I were at a small cafe located right across the church, and he had spent the past half hour telling me everything about being the Man in the Black while I worked my way through three cups of black coffee and a pair of French toasts.
"It's the requisite dress code at your workplace, to be dressed in black from head to toe?"
"Basically."
"And your job is to collect souls—-"
"The proper term is to deliver."
"For Hell—-"
"It's called the Underworld," Hadrian corrected with a wince.
"Like the Grim Reaper?"
"Actually..." Amusement flickered in his silvery gaze, and Hadrian seemed as if he was recalling something funny. "A woman—-"
A woman?
"—-once described my job as a bounty hunter."
"Huh." I disliked her immediately, that woman, and quickly changed the subject so he could forget about her, pronto. "Anyway..." My gaze narrowed at him. "You're also saying that the nature of your job requires you to be scary and sort-of-unidentifiable to ghosts?"
"Not all ghosts are good," Hadrian reminded me evenly. "It's my job to expedite delivery when certain souls are causing too much trouble."
"And that's it?" I asked uncertainly.
Hadrian studied my expression. "If there's something else you want to know, you only have to ask."
I wished I could believe him. I really did. But since what I wanted to know was something he was unlikely to confess to if it were the truth...
"Being the Man in Black doesn't make me the bad guy," Hadrian said quietly.
I knew that. But I also couldn't help thinking how all of my nightmares seemed to dwell in shadows...just like the Man in Black.
"Saoirse..." Hadrian tipped my chin up. "Are you afraid of me?"
I couldn't answer, and his eyes darkened.
"I'd never hurt you," he said fiercely. "Never."
A memory suddenly flashed in my mind: the first time Jason and I met, I hadn't liked him at all. I found him too arrogant and immature, but because he also ticked off everything in the average girl's dating checklist - good looks, stable job, nice hygiene - I had decided to ignore my guts and said yes to another date.
But on the other hand...
When Nana first revealed herself to be a ghost, the "acceptable" thing I could've done at that time was to call for the doctor and ask for meds. But if I had done that, I would've probably really lost my mind, locked away in an asylum and surrounded by people who would constantly tell me I was imagining things, and that I wasn't seeing ghosts.
Even if I were.
And that's why instincts mattered, I told myself. Love might be what made the world go round, but instincts were what changed and redefined it. We wouldn't have iPhones and iPods and iPads and everything with a lower-caps "i" if Steve Jobs hadn't listened to his instincts. The travel industry would never have boomed the way it did if not for a Boeing CEO gambling on his vision, and books like Carrie, The Time Traveler's Wife, and even Chicken Soup for the Soul would never have seen the light of day if not for people taking a chance on manuscripts that others had already written off as unpublishable.
Instincts mattered, I thought again, and right now, my instincts were telling me just one thing.
I lifted my gaze to his, and Hadrian breathed deep. "You trust me?"
I nodded.
He reached for my hand, and when he pressed it to his lips, I heard the words his kiss whispered..
Thank you.
And when I saw his gaze began to smolder, well—-
My body started tingling.
I definitely knew what that meant, too.
I'LL BE QUICK, I PROMISE. I just need to make you come.
The sound of Hadrian's lust-roughened voice played in my mind over and over, accompanied by delicious memories of how he had practically dragged me alongside him in his haste to leave the cafe and get me into the backseat of his car.
Once there, I had found myself pushed up against the door, Hadrian impatiently ordering me
to hold my skirt up—-
And then he was pushing three of his fingers inside of me, and all I had been able to do after that was sob his name. It had been so, so good, you see, with Hadrian pleasuring me with his fingers while his thumb expertly ground my clit, and well...it was just as he promised, and he had me gasping with my orgasm in less than a minute.
Best quickie ever, I thought dreamily, and while I didn't think I'd ever admit this out loud, the fact that Hadrian also happened to be the Man in Black made sex with him all the more exciting. There was an element of forbidden pleasure and danger now, and it just made me go...
Ooh. La. La. La.
Hadrian glanced at me curiously when I suddenly sat up next to him.
"Can I play some music?" I asked impulsively.
He pressed the power button of his car radio. "It's all yours."
I connected it to my phone via Bluetooth, and moments later, Camilla Cabello was serenading us with Señorita. The sultry beauty of her voice was a mood all on its own, and it had me bobbing my head and tapping my foot—-
I noticed Hadrian watching me, and my breath caught when I saw the smoldering heat in his gaze. But more than that, it was the flash of tenderness that made my heart squeeze, and I knew then and there...
Hadrian is NOT evil.
I was willing to bet my life on that, even if there did turn out to be a connection between him and the recent string of murders that had all the locals locking up doors before sunset.
Hadrian is NOT evil.
The thought calmed me for some reason, almost as if thinking otherwise had felt my heart safe.
Hadrian is NOT evil.
And by the time we made it to the clinic, and Hadrian was helping me out of the car, I had also made my mind up on something else.
Hadrian studied my expression. "You're planning something."
"Yup."
After a moment's hesitation, Hadrian only said, "Just keep yourself safe."
Huh.
The way he was saying those words, he was making it seem like he knew from experience I was a magnet for danger. Weird. I started to ask him about this, but before I could speak, I heard someone call my name from behind.
