by Abigail Roux
“This is completely out of line,” Emelda said as she crossed one hand over the other on the table in front of her. “The troubles of the museum do not fall solely on Dr. Case’s head.”
“He is the curator,” Stuart Lincoln said.
She was silent, and the little man sank into his chair as if he’d just realized what he’d done.
“He may be the curator, but the power of decision-making lies with the board, does it not? Therefore it would stand to reason that the responsibility for the museum’s current troubles should lie with our director, who maintains the power of final decision-making, and not Dr. Case.”
Wyatt and the other members of the board looked from her to Reth, who had just turned a ghastly shade of gray.
“We are not here to talk about me,” Reth said.
“Perhaps we should be,” one of the other members said, turning his chair toward Reth.
Wyatt sat back, surprised, and watched the ensuing attack like a man on safari watching a pride of lions take down a zebra.
When Wyatt finally got out of the meeting, his job momentarily secure and his faith in humanity partially restored, he was able to check his messages. It wasn’t Ash who had called him, but Caleb. He’d left only the briefest of barely coherent messages before hanging up.
Wyatt tried to hunt Noah down, but he was nowhere to be found. Calls to Gravedigger’s went unanswered for a full hour before Noah called him back to tell him what had been going on.
“Ash is having a full-on mental breakdown.”
“That’s what Ryan said last time,” Wyatt said as he paced through the exhibition hall.
“Yeah, but I’m not trying to be funny.”
“What happened?”
Noah gave him a brief synopsis, in typical Noah Drake fashion. “He was still staring at the floor when I got here.”
“What’s he doing now?”
“Wyatt. He’s staring at the floor.”
“No one can get him to move?”
“It’s like he’s not there. And we still can’t figure out how he got in. He has nothing on him but his clothes, and none of the locks have been picked.”
A sense of dread and terror stole over Wyatt. He thought of the keys he’d found in that alley, and the reflection of the man’s face he’d glimpsed in the window.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“No, Wyatt.”
“What?”
“I just . . . Caleb said Ash asked us not to call you, and I think he was right. You shouldn’t see him like this.”
“Fuck that, I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Wyatt was already heading toward the parking lot when he ended the call.
“He was fine last night.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Noah, I don’t suppose you know anything about fugue states?”
“A valid question considering my extensive knowledge of odd things, but no.”
“What is a fugue state?”
“Basically . . . what Ash is doing right now.”
“Someone call those ghost people.”
“Noah, come on.”
“I’m serious, he’s possessed or something. Call them.”
“Can he hear us?”
A hand waved in front of his face and Ash closed his eyes, putting every ounce of his strength into trying to move his head. He was finally able to tear his eyes away from the floor and look up at his companions.
Wyatt, Ryan, Noah, Delilah, and Caleb were all staring at him.
“Ash?”
“I feel weird,” Ash whispered.
“It’s okay, we’re going to get you some help,” Wyatt said as he stepped closer and took Ash’s hands in his.
“Wyatt, go away.” Ash could barely force his voice out. But he didn’t want Wyatt witnessing whatever was happening here.
“What?”
“Go away. Please.”
Wyatt looked stricken, and he glanced at the others for help. Caleb was shaking his head, but Ryan and Noah were both nodding.
“We’ll take care of him,” Noah said as he pulled Wyatt away.
Ash closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see Wyatt leave.
A week crawled by, and it was Halloween before Wyatt worked up the nerve to ask Noah about Ash.
“He’s doing fine,” Noah answered. “He still spits fire whenever someone mentions ghosts or stares vacantly at the floor where three men have previously taken their own lives, but . . . I mean, I’m sure that’s normal after an exorcism.”
Wyatt grunted, still terrified of the whole idea of ghosts or the supernatural or anything that might have been after Ash. He wished Ash had let him help, and he wished he hadn’t left when Ash had asked him to. He could see now that he’d gone about it all wrong. He should have insisted on staying. He should have done something.
“Is he okay?” Wyatt asked, throat dry.
Noah shrugged. “He seems normal to me. The head witch lady came back last week and said she sensed some evil on him. That it might take him a while to shed it. But hell, I think Ash was always a little bit evil in the first place.”
Wyatt raised a dubious eyebrow. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He just knew that night after night of staring at that damn legends and myths exhibition had made him begin to question everything. The bruises on Ash’s arms. The coincidences of all the deaths. Finding Ash’s keys in that alley. The glimpses of shadowed faces. And the grand finale of Ash’s weird behavior last week. He just didn’t know what to think.
“If I go with you and hold your hand, will you go see him?”
“Look, after everything that happened, he asked me to stay away,” Wyatt said, almost despondent. “Whatever he needed . . . he didn’t think it was me. I think I owe it to him to just stay the hell away.”
“You know, he asked you to stay away because he really likes you,” Noah pointed out. “He didn’t want you to see him like that.”
Wyatt glared. He’d dangled that tidbit of logic for himself quite a few times over the last week, but he was still going to bed alone and Ash still wasn’t answering his calls. Noah nodded, as if he knew Wyatt’s inner struggle and was trying to reinforce his point.
“He told you that?” Wyatt finally asked.
Noah nodded.
“When the hell did you turn into an expert on relationships?”
“I know Ash, okay? I know he was falling for you, and I know you were falling for him. It’s stupid that you’re here and he’s there and you’re not together.”
Wyatt’s heart twisted. “It’s pretty simple when you put it that way.”
“Come with me. Talk to him.”
Wyatt exhaled and nodded. He so desperately wanted to see Ash, it wasn’t anything but pride keeping him away.
There was a knock on his office door, and he and Noah both winced at the sound. It had an ominous tone to it, as if the fist belonged to a board member with a pink slip. The danger was over, but there was still a Pavlovian response that Wyatt didn’t think he would ever shed.
He took a steadying breath and got up to answer the knock. “Here we go,” he whispered to Noah.
When he opened the door, it wasn’t the squat little toad face of Stuart Lincoln that greeted him.
“Ash,” he blurted, blinking in shock at the man’s lovely visage.
“Hi.”
Noah stood behind Wyatt, and Wyatt knew just from the sound of him that he looked pleased. Ash looked over Wyatt’s shoulder and nodded at Noah, giving him a self-conscious smile.
“I’ll just go . . . do . . . something,” Noah said as he slipped out the door.
“What are you doing here?” Wyatt asked, trying to fight back the flurry of excitement and hope that rose in his chest.
“I . . . I miss you,” Ash said with a flop of his hands.
Wyatt felt himself starting to grin. He took a deep breath.
Ash sighed shakily. “What I did wasn’t the right move. And I know you’re probably st
ill pissed at me. But I really miss you.”
Wyatt nodded, not quite sure what to say in the face of such fearless honesty. “I miss you too.”
“I figure this is getting sort of ridiculous, the back and forth. So consider this my only move. You’re going to have to come after me if you really want me.”
Wyatt swallowed and nodded. “Does right now count?” he asked hopefully.
“No.”
Wyatt licked his lips and nodded again. “So, if I left and then came back?”
Ash smiled, giving a noncommittal shrug, lips pulling into that old mischievous grin Wyatt had first fallen in lust with. Wyatt pulled Ash into his office by one of his suspenders, turned him and left him standing in front of his desk, and then stepped out of the office, Ash laughing behind him.
Wyatt pulled the door closed, then turned around again to re-enter. When he tried the doorknob, it was locked. He rested his forehead on the cool wood and huffed a rueful laugh; his office always locked automatically. He was destined to be the bumbling professor in this relationship. Thank Christ Ash liked that about him. He cursed under his breath and tapped on the door.
It took a few moments before Ash replied. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, Wyatt,” he drawled as he opened the door.
Wyatt grinned, elated.
Ash’s smile fell and he met Wyatt’s eyes. “We need to lay a few ground rules.”
“Name them.”
“First, the ghost word is off limits. It scares me and I’ve decided that if I ignore it long enough, it’ll go away.”
Wyatt nodded.
“Second, I’m not allowed to send you away for being worried about me again. That was shitty of me and I’m . . . I’m so sorry, Wyatt.”
Wyatt smiled at the quirky apology. “Agreed.” He slid a hand down Ash’s arm and stepped closer. “What else?”
“That’s all I have. Really, all I had to go on was ‘I miss you.’ If that hadn’t worked, my backup plan was this.” He stuck out his tongue to display a stud shaped like a red rose.
Wyatt laughed and met Ash’s eyes as delight flooded him. “That’s . . . the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”
Ash gave him a chipped-tooth grin, and Wyatt pulled him close to kiss him. The rose didn’t feel any different than any of the other tongue rings Ash wore, but it tasted far sweeter.
“So, you two made up, I assume,” Noah said as he plopped down at the table in the break room.
Ash and Wyatt both grinned at him.
“This poses a problem,” Noah said, deadly serious.
“What? Why?” Ash asked.
“Tonight’s the Brawl.”
“The what?” Wyatt asked.
“The Gravedigger’s Brawl,” Ash answered.
“Oh yeah, the big scary party,” Wyatt said. “Damn, that’s going to delay the make-up sex.”
Ash frowned as he looked Wyatt up and down. “I see what you mean,” he told Noah.
Wyatt glanced worriedly between them. “What? I don’t get it.”
“The Gravedigger’s Brawl is the biggest Halloween party in Richmond,” Ash said. “We have to hire extra bouncers and tenders. We open up the upstairs to make room, set up mobile bars up there and outside. Costumes are a requirement.”
“Yeah, I remember. So?”
Noah grunted. “Wy, you don’t have a costume. You won’t be able to get in.”
Wyatt studied Ash to see if they were joking, but Ash looked entirely serious. Wyatt grinned. “I have a costume.”
“What kind?” Ash asked, looking doubtful. “We hire professional makeup artists to do ours.”
Wyatt shrugged. “The gala opening was a costume party, remember?”
Ash’s handsome face lit up, and Noah snapped his fingers. “That’s right. Wyatt’s costume was kickass, too.”
“Then you’re all set to come tonight?”
Wyatt nodded, though he looked between them uneasily. “You sure you want me there? Parties aren’t really my strong suit.”
Ash reached out and took his hand, smiling that disarming, sweet smile that Wyatt still dreamed about. “Wyatt, I can assure you that you will fit in better at the Brawl than I do sitting here right now.”
Wyatt glanced around the break room. No one was paying them any attention. If Ash felt out of place in the museum, it was all in his head. Wyatt leaned over to kiss him, lingering over the way their lips met, sliding his tongue over the rose, and dragging his teeth against Ash’s lips.
When it ended, Ash touched Wyatt’s chin with his finger. “It wouldn’t be the same if you weren’t there. Please come?”
Wyatt nodded, warmed to his very toes. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Ash nodded, then glanced at his watch and sighed. “Okay, I have to get back to help set up. I’ll see you guys there?”
Wyatt nodded. He watched Ash stand, not wanting to let him out of his sight. He was euphoric, there was no other word to describe it. Noah bid Ash farewell as he made his way out of the break room. Museum workers turned to watch him go, eyeing him not because he was dressed oddly, but because he was a walking work of art with a warm smile and eyes that shone. Wyatt glanced to Noah, unable to curtail the brilliant smile on his face.
“You’ve got nine lives, my friend,” Noah drawled around a smirk. He looked at his own watch. “Time to start getting ready. Go bust out that costume of yours.”
Wyatt glanced at the doorway one last time before forcing himself to move.
His costume from the gala was still in his office, hanging in a bag on the back of his door. It probably wasn’t appropriately gory for a party called the Gravedigger’s Brawl, but it fit and it would do well enough.
He pulled out the Confederate officer’s uniform and turned it around, inspecting it for flaws. It was a perfect replica, worthy to be worn by a museum curator in a city that had once been the capitol of the Confederacy.
Wyatt had just buttoned up the brass buttons on the front of his uniform and sat down to tie his shoes when Noah poked his head into the office.
Wyatt looked up at him and burst out laughing. He was dressed in a frighteningly warlike angel outfit. His chest was bare, with leather straps crisscrossing it. He was wearing wings and sandals.
“Oh my God,” Wyatt blurted before almost falling out of his chair laughing.
“Hey! It’s the Gravedigger’s Brawl! They give prizes for the best costume. If I win it, I save Caleb money. He’s the one who had the makeup dude come do it.”
“You’re going to freeze.”
“A paltry sum to pay for what Caleb will do to me later.”
Wyatt smirked. At least the wool coat of his uniform was warm. He’d probably be singing a different tune when they got to Gravedigger’s and found it packed with hot, sweating bodies, but he was too excited about seeing Ash to care.
The sun had set and the streets were full of partygoers in costume as they walked from the museum toward the tavern. Many of the revelers congregated at Gravedigger’s, which was the premier Halloween haunt in the city for the third year running. People were clamoring to get in. The line went around the corner of the building and down the alley.
They had hired several bouncers for the event, just like Ash had said. Noah told a large man with a clipboard their names and they were let into the bar without further fuss. The music pounded, vibrating the floor and shaking the windows. The far wall near the stairs had a tiny stage set up but nothing on it. The door to the upstairs was open and, Wyatt was shocked to see, full of people.
“Caleb fixed the upstairs!” Noah shouted above the din. “He’s got a mobile bar and lounge areas set up in each room up there, plus one on the patio!”
“Yeah, that’s what Ash was saying. I didn’t expect . . . this, though.”
“I know! It’s awesome!”
Wyatt thought maybe he managed to respond, but his words were lost in the sound.
“Hard to think, huh?” Noah shouted with a grin.
Wyatt nodded an
d looked around the crowded room with what could best be described as shellshock.
“That’s the best part, man! Better than drugs!” Noah shouted as he moved with the music. His angel wings moved with him.
Wyatt curled his lip at that and shook his head as he dodged one of Noah’s wings. Several people recognized him as “the man who was fucking Ash” and greeted him in a surprisingly friendly manner. He even received a hug or two from inebriated people he didn’t know. An alarming number of people saluted him.
Caleb was manning the bar downstairs and he greeted them wordlessly, knowing whatever he said would be lost before it got to them. He had dyed his beard jet black and shaved it into a classic split goatee, complete with pointed ends shellacked with something that made them stick out. They looked sharp enough to pierce armor. His eyes were flat black, an eerie thing since they were usually a gentle green. He had horns that appeared to be growing out of his forehead, not just sitting on a hairband or something, and they curled back and down around his ears like ram’s horns. Wyatt couldn’t even look at his clothing for being distracted by the brilliance of his makeup.
Caleb spared a moment to leer at Noah’s bare chest, and he laughed as Noah reached over the bar and smacked him. Caleb leaned closer and Noah gave him a quick kiss, then they indulged a deeper one. Wyatt didn’t look away. They seemed so perfect for each other, he simply smiled and watched. When they were satisfied, Noah said something into Caleb’s ear. Caleb answered by pointing upstairs and then pointing left to indicate where Ash was.
“Be back!” Noah assured him, and Caleb nodded as he went back to fixing drinks.
Wyatt followed Noah through the crowd as he forced his way up the stairs. They took the first left and found a little mobile bar set up in one of the small rooms. Ash stood behind it, mixing drinks. He wasn’t flairing. It was probably far too busy for that right now. The flairing exhibitions were scheduled for certain times.
When Ash raised his head, Wyatt’s heart stuttered. The low light hit Ash’s eyes and they seemed to glow like a cat’s, only luminescent blue, just like the man Ash had claimed he’d seen. He raised his head higher and the light moved, and his eyes returned to their normal warm brown.
