Love & Omens

by Carrie Pulkinen

  “A rodent would have tucked tail and run to its hidey hole the moment the lights flicked on.” Her chest brushed against his arm as she squeezed past him and ascended the stairs. “Keep an eye out for droppings.”

  “Droppings.” How the hell did he go from making love to the sexiest woman on the planet to searching a staircase for animal shit?

  “The size can help us figure out what it is.” She reached the landing and made the 180-degree turn to head up the next flight when she paused, cocking her head. “What’s down there?”

  Blake stopped on the landing and followed her gaze. A narrow passage, barely wide enough for a person to fit through sideways, extended past the stairs toward a small, shuttered window. “Just space they didn’t use wisely when they turned the top floors into separate apartments.”

  “There’s something down there. Look.” She shimmied between the staircase and the sheetrock and knelt on the floor, running her hands along the cream-colored wall.

  “Shit.” He wiggled through, emerging beneath the stairs next to Sydney as she picked at a seam in the peeling paint.

  “This is a doorway. It was painted over, but it’s been pried open. Look.” She slipped her finger into a slit in the drywall and tugged. The panel swung outward, the squeak of the hinges echoing in the empty corridor like they were smack in the middle of a horror movie. “What do you think is in there?” She pulled out her phone and shined the flashlight inside.

  “Body parts? Booby traps? A pack of rabid raccoons? Don’t go in there, Syd.” He reached for her hand, but she ducked inside the tiny room before he could grab her.

  “Goddammit.” He hit the flashlight button on his own phone and bent down, peering inside. “Are you okay?”

  “I think this is the crawlspace to your closet.” Hunched over, she inched forward, shining the light across the floor. “There are your droppings. Probably opossums.”

  “Fantastic.” It couldn’t be something cute and fluffy like a raccoon. No, his building had to be infested with beady-eyed, oversized rats.

  “Don’t knock ’em just because they’re ugly. They’re harmless, and they eat roaches. At least you won’t have a bug problem while they’re here.”

  That was nice, but he still wanted them out of his building.

  She ran her hand along the wall as she shuffled forward. “Found the knob.”

  His palms slicked with sweat. “Don’t…”

  She pushed open the door and disappeared.

  “What are you doing, Sydney?” He followed her through the opening and found himself standing inside his own closet.

  Sydney pulled the string to turn on the light and grinned. “Told you.”

  “Jesus, are you crazy? There could have been an axe murderer hiding in there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. The back door is the only other way into that stairwell, right?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t—”

  “And it was locked, and the alarm had been set. It couldn’t have been a person. The scariest thing I might have encountered in there was a rodent, and it would have been more afraid of me than I was of it.”

  “Still.” He opened the closet door and marched into his bedroom. She had a point, but he cared about the woman, dammit. It was his right to be concerned for her safety.

  She stood before him and rested her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  “You didn’t scare me.” He grinned. “Your fearlessness is actually a turn on.”

  She arched a brow. “That’s good to know.”

  “I guess I should call an exterminator. If opossums got in, who knows what else is living in the walls.”

  “I didn’t see signs of anything else.”

  “You’re an animal expert too?”

  “I’m a paranormal investigator. We always look for signs of pests to debunk claims of strange noises. I didn’t find any more. Whatever made that noise was either an opossum or a ghost.”

  “I don’t think an opossum would make footstep noises on the staircase.” He plopped onto the bed and lay on his back.

  Sydney bit her lip as she sank onto the edge of the mattress. “I wonder if I brought the activity upstairs. Most of the commotion in the museum happens when I’m there, right? Or Claire?”

  He nodded.

  “Maybe Bernadette followed me up here.”

  “Do you think she would do that?”

  “She has been trying awfully hard to get my attention.”

  “Fantastic.” He dragged his hands down his face.

  “Do you want me to leave? See if the noises stop?”

  The ghost would have eventually made her way up here sooner or later. This was bound to happen whether Sydney came to his apartment or not. He sat up and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I want you to stay the night. I ain’t afraid of ghosts.”

  She laughed. “Are you trying to quote Ghostbusters now? Next you’ll be asking to use the proton packs and ghost traps.”

  “As long as the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man doesn’t descend on the city, I think we’ll be fine. Will you stay?”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sydney set the web page to demo mode and used her phone to scan the six-foot-tall QR code painted on the Styrofoam wall. This Mardi Gras float would be the first of its kind for their krewe, with the massive code spanning the entire width of the trailer and the words Scan Me in a style reminiscent of Wonderland scrawled across the top.

  She smiled as a colorful prize wheel lit up her screen. Spin me for your chance to win! was emblazoned across the top, and beneath the wheel, a bulleted list displayed the prizes available, including the big one: a chance to ride with the Krewe of Horae in next year’s parade.

  When her suggestion for this year’s theme had been selected, she’d been beyond thrilled. Now, seeing it come to life in the massive warehouse storing the thirty floats for their parade, giddy excitement bubbled in her chest.

  It took months to build the fifty-foot-long floats from planning to building the frames on the trailers to the papier mâché-covered Styrofoam to painting and finally adding the lights and finishing touches. While a few of the krewe members had the skills to help with the process, they hired out most of the work to professional artists and carpenters, and for good reason.

  The result was a set of gorgeous, lavishly decorated floats dripping with colorful flowers and dotted with whimsical creatures like caterpillars, butterflies, and even a Cheshire cat.

  Sydney clicked the wheel on her screen, and a slew of digital beaded necklaces rained down as it rolled to a stop on her prize: a buy-one-get-one-free hurricane coupon at Bayou Daiquiris in the Quarter. Most of the patrons would win a coupon for a freebie of some sort at one of the local establishments, but they were also offering a few cash prizes in addition to the grand prize to heighten the excitement.

  She hopped off the float and jogged a few yards away to get a view of what it would look like to the crowds lining St. Charles Avenue. Bright yellow flowers trimmed with gold glitter to catch the sunlight accented the area where the krewe members would stand, and green, leafy vines wound around the entire structure. A Drink Me tag accented a giant corked bottle on the left, and a massive slice of pink teacake sported an Eat Me tag on the right.

  It was perfect. Everything was coming together…for the parade and in her life. Her date with Blake had been better than she could have imagined, and making love to him was… She shivered.

  His body had changed. He obviously hit the gym in his spare time, resulting in a delectable six pack and pecs she could bounce a quarter off of. He’d filled out in all the right places, turning the lanky young college boy she remembered into a mouthwatering man.

  But his attention to detail…to her…felt so familiar. He remembered how she liked to be touched, and he was responsive. He listened to the sounds she made, the way she moved, and he adjusted his position and pressure accordingly to
give her a thrilling ride. That hadn’t changed a bit.

  Most men went into sex with one thing in mind: their own orgasms. Blake tended to her like a precious flower growing in a garden, giving her exactly what she needed to bloom.

  She crossed her arms to rub at the goose bumps rising on her skin. She’d be a fool to fight this anymore.

  “Congratulations, Sydney.” Erin, this year’s krewe queen, sashayed past on her way to her team’s float. “Lucky you.”

  “Thanks? What did I do?”

  Erin paused, resting a hand on her hip. “You won the raffle. Check your email. Great job on the prize wheel thingy, by the way. I love it. As long as Damon’s krewe doesn’t screw anything up for us, this’ll be our best roll yet.”

  “Yeah, I ran into him the other day, and he said I should watch my back.” She lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. “I told him to bite me.”

  Erin scowled. “I won’t be surprised if they try to sabotage us so they can take our place.”

  “Let them try. We can take ’em.”

  “Damn right. Love your float, by the way. That yellow pops.”

  “Thanks.” She tugged her phone from her pocket as Erin continued on her way. The email in question sat at the top of her inbox, and she tapped it open.

  Congratulations, Sydney. You’ve won the grand prize: six tickets to the Wonderland Masquerade. Please reply with the names of your guests ASAP so we can add them to the list.

  “Wow.” She hit reply and typed Blake’s name immediately. She’d planned on him being the one guest krewe members were normally allowed to invite to their exclusive event. With six tickets, she could invite the whole team. Eric would love it, and while Jason wasn’t the most social person, he wouldn’t want to miss a party like this. She added their names beneath Blake’s and hesitated.

  The ball was next week. Would Sean and Emily be ready to venture out without their baby? She swiped over to her messaging app and texted Emily. Her reply came in a few seconds later: Thank you, but we’ll pass this year. A pause and then: Trish says she’d love to go.

  Not surprising that Emily wanted to sit this one out. She typed Trish’s name in the email and chewed her bottom lip. One ticket left. Well, there was always Claire. It would be good for her to get out and socialize. She added her name and pressed send before shoving the phone into her pocket.

  What a night this was going to be.

  She climbed onto the float and grabbed her jacket from the railing. Everything was ready to go for the parade next week. Almost all her friends would be at the masquerade with her. She hadn’t had a single vision of her relationship with Blake ending anytime soon. Things were falling perfectly into place.

  She should have known better than to have a thought like that, though. As soon as it passed through her mind, the familiar blue and gold kaleidoscope pattern sparkled in her peripheral.

  A sinking sensation dragged her under, and her vision flashed bright white before a new scene came into view. This time, the cemetery felt real. Her peripheral shimmered in the colors of Wonderland, but the rest of her surroundings appeared crisp, saturated in lifelike color.

  Row after row of above-ground tombs and mausoleums lined the graveyard, making the walled-in space look like a true city of the dead. White plaster covered many of the towering graves, gleaming in the early morning sunlight, while other tombs appeared abandoned, decades of weather wearing away the paint to reveal the brick and mortar beneath.

  To her left, a weeping angel statue sat atop a massive family vault, and a crowd gathered around an open tomb directly in front of her. A thin layer of morning fog hovered on the grass, giving the peaceful cemetery an eerie, unsettling ambiance.

  No, no, no. Not now. Not this.

  The mourners were in crisp focus, and through the crowd, she peered at the coffin…the same one from her original vision, only this time, the lid was open. Her stomach soured, and she tried to pull herself out of Wonderland. She didn’t want to see who was in that coffin, but her premonition held her, urging her forward.

  A crow hopped toward her through the grass, and it laid a string of shiny plastic beads at her feet. She ignored the animal, her gaze fixed on the scene before her.

  She scanned the backs of people’s heads as she slowly made her way toward the casket. Emily’s bright red hair was pulled back in a twist, and she patted Sean’s shoulder as he stood between her and Sydney in the front row.

  Sydney allowed herself half a second of relief that her friend wouldn’t have to endure the loss of yet another loved one, but her heart sank at the other possibilities seeing Emily alive left behind.

  An icy fist of dread clenched in her chest, and the pressure in the air increased, pushing down, threatening to crumble her. This premonition was too sharp, too detailed to be a metaphor. A deep sob bubbled from her stomach, hitching in her throat as she moved forward in her mind and peered into the coffin.

  No.

  Nestled in the blue satin, his eyes closed peacefully, his hands folded on his stomach, lay the man who held her heart. Blake.

  “This is my fault.” The sound of her own voice whispered from behind her.

  She turned her vision toward the crowd and saw herself leaning into Sean’s side. “I did this to him. I should have known.”

  “There’s no way you could have known.” Sean wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “No one saw this coming.”

  “I’m a fucking clairvoyant, Sean. I should have.”

  “Sydney?” Erin’s voice drifted in the air, and cold fingers tapped Sydney’s cheek. “Someone, call an ambulance.”

  Sydney pried her eyes open, blinking against the bright, fluorescent lights as she tried to focus on her surroundings. No blue and gold trimmed her peripheral. She was back in the real world. “No, don’t. I’m okay.”

  She pushed to sitting, and her head spun. Pressing her hand against her throbbing temple, she leaned forward, closing her eyes until the room stilled. She sat on the cold concrete of the warehouse and peered up at the float she’d been working on.

  “Here’s some water.” A member of the krewe handed her a cold bottle and knelt in front of her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” She took a long pull from the bottle and recapped it. Her shoulder ached, and a purple bruise was forming across her bicep, but nothing felt broken.

  “What happened? Did you pass out?”

  The last thing she remembered was seeing Blake in her vision, her entire world shattering in an instant, before she woke up on the floor. “I guess I shouldn’t have skipped lunch.”

  Clutching Erin’s hand, she rose to her feet and rotated her arm. It was going to be sore for a while.

  “Here.” Someone handed Erin a granola bar, which she passed to Sydney. “Maybe your blood sugar dropped. Are you diabetic?”

  Sydney accepted the bar and shook her head. “I’m fine. Sorry to scare everyone. I think I’m going to head home.” She had eaten lunch, but she wasn’t about to divulge the real reason she’d fallen off the float.

  The cemetery vision may have started out not fully formed, and perhaps the universe hadn’t known who would occupy the coffin when it began, only that someone would. But now…

  Blake was going to die, and Sydney would be the one to blame.

  “Thanks for coming out.” Blake shook Sean’s hand as he stepped through the door. “How’s the wife and baby?”

  “Good. Loud.” Sean strode to the middle of the room and turned a circle. “The baby. Not the wife.” He chuckled. “I didn’t know the definition of tired until now, though.”

  “I won’t keep you long.”

  “It’s good to get out of the house. Your email updates are helpful, but I’m excited to be coming back to work next week.” He eyed the Mardi Gras float sculpture. “What’s going on? Sydney said it was urgent when she called.”

  The office door swung open, and Claire strutted into the exhibit area. “Hi there. You must be Sean.” She shook his hand. “I’m B
lake’s friend, Claire.”

  “This is my cousin’s kid I told you about. Syd’s training her to be a guide for the new tour.”

  Claire cast him a sideways glance. “Speaking of Sydney. Isn’t she coming?”

  “She’s on her way.” He looked at Sean. “I’m not sure why she said it was urgent. We had some new activity upstairs last night, but she assumed it was because the ghost seems attracted to her.”

  “Too many things going bump in the night up there?” Claire crossed her arms and arched a brow.

  His jaw ticked with irritation, but he ignored her jibe.

  “She’s here,” Claire sang as the front door opened.

  Sydney stepped in, her eyes rimmed red, and she scowled as she strode straight into Blake’s arms. With hers wrapped tightly around his waist, she pressed her face into his chest and inhaled deeply. Her back was rigid, her shoulders stiff, and as she let out her breath, she held him tighter.

  “Hey.” He kissed the top of her head. A faint hint of sweat mixed with the floral scent of her shampoo. “What’s wrong?”

  She squeezed him so hard, his breath came out in a wheeze. Then, she let him go, stepping back and wiping tears from her cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled, fear widening her eyes, and Blake’s heart tumbled into his stomach.

  “Did you see something?”

  “Syd?” Sean touched her tattooed arm, and she nodded.

  “I don’t want to say anything yet, in case someone here…” She blew out a breath. “See what you can pick up on first, Sean. Then we’ll talk.”

  Sean paled. “Emily…”

  “No.” Sydney shook her head. “She’s fine. Sable too.”

  Sean’s shoulders dropped in relief, and he nodded, but tension drew Blake’s toward his ears. His heart ached to see Sydney upset like this, and his mind spun with all the possible scenarios that could have her this distraught.

  “All right.” Sean took a deep breath and rolled his neck. “If there are any spirits here, my name is Sean, and I can probably see you if you want to show yourself. I might be able to hear you too, so…I’m here if you want to talk.”