by Layla Frost
She nodded before sitting in her chair and spinning again. “Do you eat?”
“No.”
“Sleep?”
“Not in the traditional sense. It’s hard to describe.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “Can you see yourself?”
“I see what you saw last night—hazy smoke and shadows.”
“But you can touch things?”
“With great effort.”
“It’s so…”
“Weird?” I supplied.
“Exactly.” She closed her eyes. I could tell from her twitches and fidgets that she was trying to work through some thoughts.
Her eyes popped open suddenly as she jumped from her chair. “I’m hungry.”
As she walked into the kitchen, I did what I always did. What I knew I’d always do.
I followed her.
Denny
Sitting at the table with my dinner, I could feel him on the other side of the room. “We need to lay down some ground rules.”
His response came immediately. “Anything.”
“No more coming into my room. I don’t have apnea, there’s no reason for you to be in there. Ever.”
Unless it’s to do all the things I fantasize about you doing…
Shut up, libido.
His voice lowered to an intimate rumble. “I’ll only enter your bedroom when you invite me.”
Does he know what I’m thinking?
Taking a much-needed drink of ice water, I got my thoughts back on track. “No using your talents on me. No more interfering, manipulating, or reality-warping magic hoopla. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“And not just with me,” I added, pointing a finger at… well, him, I hoped. “I’m talking anyone. No more games.”
He hesitated before finally mumbling his agreement.
“Good.” I started eating and thought about whether there was anything else I wanted to add. “When I tell you not to follow, you need to respect that.”
“Okay.”
“But I’ll try to make my outings more exciting than Target and used bookstores, that way you can see more.”
“Wherever I go with you,” he paused before finishing, “is fine. Anything else?”
“Uh, if you leave for a while, let me know when you’re back. No hiding it.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “And you need a name. I’m sick of thinking of you as The Voice.”
“You think of me?” he practically purred.
Ignoring the physical reaction his tone elicited, I deadpanned, “No. There’s a random voice suddenly in my life, but I never give it a second thought.” I smiled at his chuckle. “Just let me know what name.”
“Whatever you think is fitting.”
“Nate,” I blurted, unsure what had made the name pop into my head.
“Nate,” he repeated. “I like it.”
I did, too. Giving him a name made it feel more official. He was actually there, and I was accepting that.
There was a significance to the moment I wasn’t ready to delve into.
It was still fucking weird. I was talking to an empty kitchen and making rules as though I had a new roommate. Well, technically, as he’d been there much longer than me, I was the new roommate, but I wasn’t about to point that out. I wasn’t sure if he was territorial of the house, and I didn’t want to push and find out.
As long as he follows the rules, I think I can deal with him being here.
Actually, I think I might really like it.
Hell.
_______________
“Dinner’s ready.”
After hitting save on my work, I jumped up so fast, my chair spun.
For three days, Nate had been working on his ability to move items. Lucky for me, he’d chosen cooking as the most efficient way of doing so. There’d been a few early hiccups, like the dropped eggs exploding all over my clean tile and the teensy, tiny fire. But after that, it’d been smooth sailing. I steered clear of the kitchen when he was working because the sight of floating food still freaked me out.
I couldn’t complain about the end result, though.
Fine wine and gourmet food.
Well, three-dollar wine because my tastes were basic.
“Don’t most people take Sundays off?” Nate asked as I entered the kitchen and washed my hands.
“I like to work when inspiration hits. And if I do a little every day, it reduces the stress of a deadline and allows me to take time off when my brain is fried.”
“And inspiration is hitting?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m in the zone.” A fresh salad and a bowl of creamy pasta were set out on the table. My stomach loudly growled, insisting I dig in.
I may have been ignoring the demands of other parts of my body, but my stomach and I were on good terms, so I sat down and did as it ordered.
“This is so good,” I said between mouthfuls of tangy salad.
“I’m glad.”
Pangs of guilt hit me, and I forced myself to slow down.
“Is something wrong?” Nate asked. “I watched the chef cursing and yelling at the others as he taught them to make it.”
“No, it’s delicious.” Risking my alliance with my belly, I asked, “You know you don’t have to cook for me, right?”
“I enjoy it. Watching you eat what I’ve made with my own hands brings me pleasure.”
My heart and other places warmed at his words. “Oh.”
“And I’m getting better, yes? No more fires or mishaps.”
“I still don’t want you cooking when I’m not home.”
“That’s probably wise.”
I polished off my salad before digging into the most flavorful pasta I’d ever had. “Holy hell, this is amazing.”
Nate chuckled. “Did you remember to pick up the candy you said you needed?”
“Yup, like ten pounds of it.”
He hesitated. “Are you also in need of those products that allow you to play tennis and wear white with confidence?”
Realization dawned and I burst out laughing. “No! Halloween is two days away. I’m not sure how many trick-or-treaters I’ll get, and I wanted to be prepared.”
“The little hooligans who use threats to extort candy?”
“It’s fun! What did you do last year?”
“Your grandma gave into the threats and handed out the sugary treats. I… I was in the basement, I think.”
“And the year before?”
He paused before admitting, “I don’t recall. I’m sure it was more of the same. I saw on TV that if we don’t comply, they throw eggs all over the house. At the time, I had none of my recent talents to protect Eve. I’m sorry.”
“The whole eggs-and-toilet-paper thing doesn’t really happen… not often, at least. Did you ever look outside?”
“No, I don’t believe I could. The pull bonded me to a specific area of the house.”
“Oh.” My heart broke for him, but I forced a smile. “Well, hopefully that doesn’t happen this time and you can experience the fun. Cute kids in silly costumes. You’ll like it.”
“If you say so.”
“Not a fan of kids?”
He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. With the threats, I assumed they’re all delinquents and ruffians.”
“Ruffians?”
“And charlatans.”
Although I’d been working to hold it in, I lost control and laughed so hard, my eyes watered. “I’m sorry,” I gasped, trying to settle. “I shouldn’t laugh, I’ve just never heard anyone use those words unironically. Your speech is usually so modern, it’s easy for me to forget that you’re… not.”
Thankfully, Nate didn’t seem insulted. “I watched a lot of TV to pass the time.”
That explains why he talks like a commercial sometimes.
“It’s easy to pick up on the ever-changing slang, even when it makes no sense to me.” Humor infused his tone before he added, “Like my bae who’s on fleek.”
My bare
ly controlled laughter started again until I was wheezing. “God, watching all that TV had to get boring, though.”
“It was worse before TVs were invented. I could listen to the radio when it was left on, but the previous residents favored talk radio and bland music.”
My eyes went wide as I tried again to fathom that. “Before TV…” I shook my head.
“I think your grandma knew I was here more than anyone else. She always left her TV on. And she’d leave books and newspapers open all over the house. So many books.”
My gut clenched, the fiery rage burning through me. Crushing sadness accompanied it, but I focused on the former until it overpowered the latter.
I could deal with anger.
Sadness only left me feeling hopeless.
“I said something wrong, m… Haden.”
“Don’t.” My voice was low and harsh. “Don’t call me that. Ever.” I softened my tone. “Please. Everyone calls me Denny.”
“Okay. Denny. I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, trying to brush off the intensity of my reaction. “It’s okay.” Standing, I began gathering the dishes. Since Nate cleaned as he cooked, there wasn’t much.
“Why—” he started before a ringing interrupted him.
I grabbed my cell, breaking my usual rule by answering the unknown number.
Anything to avoid continuing that conversation.
“Hello?”
“Okay, look,” a woman started, skipping a traditional greeting. “I like you, all right? And I’ve been thinking about this whole situation because I’m assuming my hex bag didn’t work.”
“Juno?”
“Yeah. Who else made you a hex bag? Because if it has chicken legs in it, you can guarantee it doesn’t work. I have no clue how chicken legs became known for mythical properties, but they’re only useful when coated in the colonel’s secret herbs and spices and then deep fried.”
“You’re the only hex bag maker I know,” I assured her.
“Good. As it should be. Anywho, it didn’t work.”
“No,” I confirmed, though it wasn’t a question.
“I hate the old hag in Ireland. Polish warlock and I are on good enough terms because he’s old school, which pretty much forces him to be hospitable. Plus, when we get together he cooks me pierogi, stuffed cabbage, kielbasa, borscht… the whole shebang. I rave and eat until I’m more pierogi than woman, and that feeds his ego. So, we’re not close, but we’re fine.”
I’ve got no clue what she’s leading up to, but I need to ask Nate if he can cook any of that. I’m so full I could burst, but my stomach is growling.
Unaware of the delicious distraction she’d caused, Juno continued. “You came to me for help, and I failed. And, stubborn woman I am, I can’t just walk away. That’d be like Batman losing against Bane and fleeing Gotham for a suburb in Connecticut. And, yes, I am comparing myself to the caped crusader. I’ve been mulling it over, and I’ve decided to contact the hag and the warlock. We’ll see what our combined efforts can accomplish. I have no doubt that, at the very least, we can get you some distance. A paranormal restraining order, if you will.”
For weeks, I’d been pursuing every option I had for getting rid of The Voice—of Nate. With Juno calling in reinforcements, it was very possible she’d make it happen.
I should’ve been ecstatic, or even just intrigued.
Yet, impulsively and crazily, I said, “Actually, I’m all set.”
“Did he leave?”
“No, but—”
“Is this a blink-twice-if-you-need-to-be-rescued kinda thing? Do we need a safety word? Mine is always kryptonite.”
Laughing, I sat on the bay window bench. “No, things are okay. Honest.”
“Really?”
I could’ve used the excuse that I was lonely. Or that I was messed up—dead mom and grandma, dysfunctional dad, the whole nine. But it wasn’t any of those.
It all came down to Nate. The non-manipulating version of him, of course.
“I know, it’s… unexpected. But I don’t want him to go,” I said, admitting it to Juno as much as myself.
“Awesome! You’ll have to bring him by the store so I can grill him. Maybe he’ll have tips on how to strengthen my juju, you know?”
It was my turn to be surprised. “Really?”
“Just because someone is dead or whatever, doesn’t mean they’re bad. I don’t know what I’d do without Lea.”
“Lea? Wait, I bought candy from a dead woman?”
“She prefers the term ‘prematurely expired’, FYI.”
“Noted,” I murmured, stunned speechless.
“Good, she can get a little testy about it. She doesn’t go vengeful spirit or anything, but she’ll overcharge you for fudge or say she’s out of cotton candy when she’s got more in the back.”
Since I’d gone through all the cotton candy I’d purchased in one night, that wasn’t a consequence I wanted to face.
“Definitely noted.”
“All right, I’ve got a date to get ready for. You have my number now in case you change your mind. Text, though. This was my one and only phone call for the year, and it took me about twenty minutes to amp myself up for it.”
“Have fun.”
“Oh, I will.” I heard her carefree and alluring cackle as the call disconnected.
Remaining in my seat, I pressed the top of my phone to my mouth. I didn’t wonder whether I’d made the correct choice. For myself, I knew I had.
For Nate, however, I wasn’t so sure.
The selfishness of my decision hadn’t hit until after I’d disconnected.
He’s been stuck in this place for hundreds of years. Maybe he would’ve welcomed a change of scenery, even if forced.
Why does that thought hurt so badly?
“You want me here?” he asked from across the room, startling me. Before I could answer, he rushed on. “I wasn’t meaning to eavesdrop, I just overheard when I was putting away the leftovers.”
“Do you want to be here?”
“For hundreds of years, I’ve viewed this place as a prison. Now it’s my paradise. Even if I had my freedom, I’d remain here.”
I gave an awkward chuckle. “It would be hard to leave behind the view and exposed brick kitchen.”
“That’s not what keeps me here,” he whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back.
Intimacy and I weren’t on familiar terms. When Lula needed a sympathetic shoulder, I could offer threats of violence against those who’d wronged her or inappropriate jokes to cheer her up. Luckily, she knew that was my way of caring.
Hopefully, Nate knew that, too.
“Anyway,” I started, adding some extra cheeriness, “Juno wants to meet you. I think she wants to pick your brain.”
“I’m not sure how much help I can offer.”
“That brings me to my idea.” I turned my body in the seat so I faced him, putting my heels on the bench and wrapping my arms around my bent legs. “She’d called to tell me she was willing to team up with an Irish witch and a Polish warlock. Which, side note, can you cook Polish food?”
“I don’t see why not. We’ll make a grocery list later.”
“Awesome, because it sounded delicious. But back to what I was saying. I declined the offer since… you know. But what if we ask her to see if she can help you get your memory back? Or your body. I’m not sure if she could, but it’s worth a shot, right?”
I’d expected an immediate and enthusiastic response, but got nothing.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” I reassured when his silence stretched.
“I know. Yes, we can bring it up with the witch. If there is anyone with the power to help, it’d be her.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“It’s an honor that you would think to help me. Thank you.”
“That’s not all you’re thinking,” I pushed, sensing he was still holding back.
More silence, followed by a low curse.
“It’s been hundreds of years with many unknowns. I’m trying not to hope.”
Standing, I walked until I could feel the coolness radiating from his body. I tilted my head up, though I could’ve been looking over him for all I knew. “Even if Juno can’t help, we’ll keep trying. I promise.”
A cold hand cupped my cheek, the hazy smoke and shadows reappearing. When I reached out, my palm flattened on the icy wall of his chest and the form of his body become more corporal. I gasped as black eyes met mine. Instinctively, I snatched my hand back and he faded just as quick as he’d appeared.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I cried, urgently reaching out again, but to no avail. There was no cold wall. No smoke or shadows. He was there, but I couldn’t touch him.
Whatever had happened, the moment was lost.
“No, I’m sorry I scared you. I…” He let out an audibly shaky breath. “I don’t know what that was.”
“Neither do I.” My own breaths were coming in small pants, my chest rising and falling. A hum of energy skimmed across my hyperaware skin to gather between my legs. I stood statue still, as if one little movement would be enough to send me over the edge.
How embarrassing would it be if I just randomly came in my pants, weird O-face and all?
The mortification at the thought was enough to settle my raging hormones. Kinda.
Nate cleared his throat as I felt him move away. “I’m going to walk the perimeter and make sure none of the ruffians are trespassing.”
My laugh was forced and hollow as I tried again to calm myself.
“When you’re working, I usually try to push to see how far I can go. Since I was cooking today, I didn’t get to do that. Is it okay if I—”
“Yes!” Hiding my urgency, I nodded slowly. “I mean, I think that’s a good idea. It’s important to, uh, keep up the routine so you don’t lose your progress.”
“I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Good luck,” I said, bouncing a little. As soon as his presence was gone, I raced up the stairs, nearly tripping twice. My socked feet slid on the hardwood hallway as I ran to my room, and I actually stumbled as I tried to strip off my leggings as I went. Not bothering to undress fully, I grabbed the vibrator from my side table and leapt on the bed, landing diagonal.
My first orgasm was almost instantaneous. The second took a little more work. The pressing need was relieved, but I still wasn’t sated. With time to spare, I slowed my motions and allowed it to build.
