Paranormal Days

by Megan Derr

  "It doesn't work," Quinn said, pushing up his sleeves irritably. "I screwed it up the first time I did it, and now it doesn't work."

  "You don't get to test that," Josh said when Astor looked at him again with interest. "In fact, you get to stay over there."

  "What did you do differently?" Astor asked, giving Josh a scornful look. Josh glared back, content to keep his distance for the little good it would do him.

  "I don't remember," Quinn muttered. He stared at the carpet, not meeting either of their eyes.

  "Don't remember?" Astor repeated incredulously. "Quinn, how could you be that reckless? Who knows who he's told! Do you know what trouble you could get into if this gets out?"

  "I haven't told anyone, for what it's worth," Josh said, crossing his arms. He regretted it almost as soon as he said it. It probably wasn't a good idea to be admitting that. Astor seemed the type to be willing to kill him to keep their secret safe. Luckily, Quinn seemed invested in keeping him alive—and unbitten. "And I don't plan to."

  "And of course you have too much integrity to go running off at the mouth the first time the two of you have a lover's quarrel." Astor sneered, looking unimpressed with Josh. Granted, he hadn't looked impressed with anything so far.

  "He's not—"

  "We're not—"

  Astor rolled his eyes at them again, and Josh wondered how much damage he'd do to his relationship with Quinn—his friendly relationship—if he did punch Astor. The idea of marring Astor's perfect face sounded awfully good.

  "It hasn't happened since," Quinn said, distracting Josh from his thoughts of violence. "I had garlic that night. I've been more careful since."

  "Garlic wouldn't mess it up," Astor said, dismissive and know-it-all, and Josh really, really didn't like him and not just because he'd tried to bite Josh.

  "I messed it up," Quinn said impatiently, scowling at Astor. "Not the garlic. The garlic makes me not remember; you should know this."

  Astor completely ignored the annoyance in Quinn's words and asked, "You don't remember anything?"

  "No," Quinn said shortly. "I tried to do it later. I did everything right, and it still didn't work."

  "This is why mother didn't want you to move, you know," Astor said, condescending and haughty, and Josh really wanted to rearrange the bones in his nose. Quinn was looking increasingly upset. It hadn't been his fault, and the way Astor was talking down to Quinn, as though he were still a child in need of babysitting was getting on Josh's every nerve.

  Astor pulled out a cell phone, flipping it open with one hand and waving dismissively at Josh. "Get rid of him."

  Josh scowled. He didn't move, not willing to leave Quinn without anyone on his side.

  "I'll walk you out," Quinn said. Josh thought about protesting, but Quinn was an adult. Josh wasn't going to be as bad as Astor and treat him like he couldn't take care of himself.

  Leading the way down the stairs, Josh couldn't help but be reassured that Quinn was between him and Astor. Not that it mattered, as Astor was busy talking rapidly into his phone, too low for Josh to make out what he was saying from the stairs.

  "I really am sorry," Quinn said as they walked outside. He frowned, pausing on the porch and shutting the door firmly behind him. "I didn't know Astor was going to show up, and he…" Quinn hesitated. "I'd like to say he isn't usually like that, but that's not true."

  "It's not your fault," Josh said. He might be furious at Astor, but he wasn't mad at Quinn. "Though I can definitely see why you moved so far from your family."

  "Not far enough," Quinn muttered. He cast a dark look up at the second floor.

  "Thanks for sticking up for me, in any case," Josh said, smiling wryly. "I appreciate not being bitten, and I'm sorry you had to admit the whole debacle. I can stay if you want backup."

  "No, no, it's better if I deal with him." Quinn winced. "And my mother."

  "Well, if you need to escape from—" Josh gestured to the upper floor of the apartment complex. "You can crash at my place. My couch is comfortable and I have a dozen take-out places on speed dial."

  "Sounds five-star," Quinn said, finally cracking a smile. "I may take you up on that."

  "Cool," Josh said, grinning back. "Good luck."

  "Thanks. I…" Quinn hesitated. "Thanks for being so good about everything. It really—I really appreciate it."

  "No problem?" Josh said. "Being upset over it would take too much effort, and besides, you're a good guy. I know you don't mean any harm."

  "Even though I bit you?" Quinn asked skeptically.

  "You fixed that," Josh said, resisting the urge to touch his neck. "And you don't plan to do it again, right? So, I'm not worried about you."

  "I won't, not without your permission and probably not even then," Quinn said, quietly, solemnly meeting his eyes and holding Josh's gaze without wavering.

  "See?" Josh said, giving Quinn a smile. "Sure you don't want to bail with me now? You could completely avoid Astor."

  "He'd wait. Or try to track me down. He's tenacious, especially when it comes to chastising me for whatever my latest screw up is," Quinn said, making a face. "Or whatever he thinks I've screwed up, anyway."

  "Then good luck, and don't hesitated to drop by to hide if you need to," Josh said. Quinn nodded, smiling. Josh hesitated, not sure if he should leave it at that. But Quinn was right there, his expression still miserable, and before Josh could stop himself, he stepped closer, tilted Quinn's head up, and stole a quick, short, incredibly stupid kiss before stumbling back and nearly falling off the porch.

  Quinn blinked rapidly at him. His eyes were wide and he looked startled, but it was a vast improvement on the misery in his expression before.

  "See you around," Josh managed.

  Quinn nodded again, smiling shyly at him, and maybe kissing him hadn't been that stupid. Turning, Josh took himself off before he could do worse. He waited until he was in his car before he looked back, but Quinn had already gone back inside. Starting his car, Josh pulled out of his parking spot, unable to stop smiling as he headed home.

  *~*~*

  Josh cursed heartily as he crashed his race car into a retaining wall, reluctantly pausing the game to deal with the distraction that had caused him to screw up: someone knocking on his front door. It was probably his next-door neighbor demanding he turn the TV down, never mind that it was impossible to hear through the wall. It probably wasn't Quinn, no matter how much Josh wanted it to be.

  That didn't stop his heart from beating double-time in his chest as he approached the door and unchained it. He opened the door slowly, grinning when it proved to be Quinn standing on the other side. So he hadn't screwed up yesterday like he'd convinced himself he had. Quinn smiled back. He was dressed in faded jeans and another flannel shirt, this one a neat pattern in shades of blue and black. It was almost fashionable.

  "Hey, come in," Josh said, stepping back and holding the door open for Quinn.

  "Thanks," Quinn said, stepping in and waiting for Josh to shut the door behind him. Josh clicked the lock into place, turning back toward Quinn.

  "Managed to escape? Or did your brother finally leave?" Josh asked, wondering if he had to worry about Astor trying to track Quinn down to here.

  "He's leaving tonight," Quinn said, making a face. "I'm skipping dinner with him, though. I'm sick of being pestered."

  "Cool," Josh said as neutrally as he could. He wasn't going to get in the middle of Quinn and Astor's animosity, even if he still wanted to punch Astor every time he thought about him. "I have never been more thankful to be an only child."

  "No siblings?" Quinn asked, following Josh into the living room. "Didn't you say you grew up here?"

  "I don't remember if I said, but yeah, I did," Josh said, gesturing for Quinn to take a seat on the couch. He sat down on the other side. Quinn got to make the next move, he'd decided last night. Josh didn't want to push anything on him, and he wanted to make sure that if they started anything, it was because both of them wanted it. "My pa
rents live in a loft downtown, about three blocks from where I grew up."

  "Nice," Quinn said, smiling.

  "Do you want to watch a movie or something? I've got video games too, if you'd prefer that," Josh offered when Quinn let the conversation drop.

  "Okay," Quinn agreed. "Though probably a movie? I'm horrible at video games."

  "Sounds good. Have you eaten? I was thinking Chinese for dinner. I can order something while you pick a movie," Josh said, standing. He opened the drawer on the side table closest to him, sorting through it to try and find the menu.

  "I haven't. Chinese sounds good?" Quinn said, fidgeting with his shirtsleeves a moment before standing. "Where do you keep your movies?"

  "DVDs are on the bookcase," Josh said, gesturing to a short, wide bookcase sitting a few feet from the TV stand. "Mixed in with my books and games, remember?"

  "Right. Heathen," Quinn said, smiling over his shoulder at Josh as he crossed the room to the bookcase.

  "Do you want to look at the menu, or do you know what you want?" Josh asked, pulling out a worn, crinkled menu.

  "Sweet and sour pork with fried rice, please?" Quinn said, his attention on Josh's bookcase of games and DVDs. Despite Josh's earlier claims, there were only a few books mixed in there.

  "All right," Josh said, glancing over the menu himself even though he knew what he wanted already. "I'll be right back."

  Quinn nodded, but didn't look up from where he was scrutinizing the back of a DVD box. Josh left him to it, ducking into the kitchen to call the Chinese place. Food ordered, he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and cracked them open before returning to the living room.

  "Half hour before the food gets here," Josh announced, setting the beer down on the coffee table and sitting down in his spot on the couch again. Quinn nodded in acknowledgment, busy perusing the back of another DVD case.

  Josh settled back, content to wait. Quinn had shown up, and he wasn't sure what that meant since Quinn hadn't given him any clues as to what he was feeling. Josh was content to wait on that too. He could be patient. Quinn was going to be here for a few hours, in any case.

  "Is this one okay?" Quinn asked, turning around and displaying the case of a DVD—one of the action movies Josh had bought recently but hadn't had the time to watch.

  "I haven't seen it, but it should be good," Josh said, standing and holding out a hand for the movie. He queued it up, rejoining Quinn on the couch as the previews started.

  Josh wondered if this counted as a date. Possibly, but he wasn't going to jinx it by asking. Quinn would give some hint by the end of the night, so Josh was going to behave, watch the movie, and enjoy his Chinese food and Quinn's presence.

  He waved off Quinn's attempts to pay when the food arrived, and then purposefully sat down next to Quinn on the couch rather than at the other end—ostensibly to share the appetizers he'd gotten, but mostly because he wanted to sit closer. He didn't bother to move after they'd both decimated the food, just sat back and kept nursing his beer. Quinn glanced at him a few times, but he smiled and didn't say anything—definitely a good sign.

  The movie went quickly, but Josh wasn't paying much attention to it, especially after he'd moved to sit next to Quinn. He was too focused on Quinn and trying to keep himself from doing something stupid like the yawn-and-stretch maneuver to position his arm around Quinn's shoulders. Quinn seemed oblivious, focused on the movie, though he did keep smiling at completely inappropriate times—not outright grins, but soft, small smiles that made Josh want to do something really stupid, like kiss him again. He was screwed, though hopefully literally, eventually.

  The movie ended without Josh knowing who'd won or what the plot had been. As the closing credits rolled, he gathered up the trash from the Chinese and took it to the kitchen to throw away. Quinn followed with the empty beer bottles, setting them gingerly into the sink.

  "Did Miguel's reaction to Sharon's death seem realistic to you?" Quinn asked as Josh dumped the Chinese containers into the garbage. Josh blinked, confused for a moment before remembering that the lead actor's name had been Miguel. He didn't remember Sharon or her death, though.

  "Uh, Sharon?" Josh asked, pretty sure his inattention during the movie was about to be busted.

  "The blonde woman, the one whose car exploded?" Quinn prompted, and he was smiling, as if he knew Josh hadn't been paying attention.

  "I don't remember anyone's car blowing up," Josh admitted. "At least not while they were inside it."

  "The movie was about a serial car bomber," Quinn said, his smile widening as he leaned against the counter.

  "I wasn't paying attention," Josh said, shrugging. He crossed the kitchen to where Quinn was standing, giving him plenty of time to move away if he wanted to. Quinn stayed where he was, tilting his head up when Josh stepped into his personal space.

  "Oh?" Quinn asked. "What were you paying attention to, then?"

  "You," Josh said. He wasn't sure whether it was him leaning down or Quinn leaning up or both, but then he was kissing Quinn—or was Quinn kissing him? Deciding it didn't matter, Josh went with it, humming in pleasure when Quinn kissed back wholeheartedly, his arms wrapping around Josh's neck.

  Josh wasn't sure how long they stood there, making out in his kitchen, but it was far too soon when Quinn pulled back a little—not far—and asked, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

  "With what?" Josh asked, paying only a little attention to what Quinn was saying as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Quinn's jaw, flexing his grip on Quinn's hips and getting a delicious hitch of breath for his trouble.

  "Dating a vampire," Quinn said. He sounded serious enough that Josh straightened.

  "I'm fine with it," Josh said firmly. "I have thought about it. You're not going to bite me without my say-so, so I'm not worried about the vampire part. And I like you, in case you hadn't noticed, so I'm definitely okay with the dating bit."

  "I like you, too," Quinn offered, smiling his quiet, shy smile. Josh didn't hesitate, giving in to the urge to kiss Quinn again. Quinn went with it for a minute, but then interrupted again, this time asking, "What about work?"

  "What about work? The fraternization rule only applies to employees in the same department," Josh said. Since Quinn was quality control and he was IT, it didn't count.

  "No, um, Carrie and Elena and—" Quinn said, distracting Josh from his thoughts by shifting closer. He didn't need his green-eyed luring tricks, not for Josh anyway.

  "Uh," Josh said intelligently. "I'll tell them to give us space so we can sort stuff out on our own?"

  "Okay," Quinn said agreeably, licking his lips, and that was totally an invitation for Josh to do the same, except—

  "Anything else?" Josh asked. "Or can we get back to the making out, now?"

  "No, I'm good. You?" Quinn said, smiling and tilting his head up in invitation.

  "Definitely good," Josh muttered, then promptly took Quinn up on his invitation.

  The Werewolf of Grey Lake Inn

  Astor is tired—tired of his family and the way they never listen to his advice, and tired of being in love with his agent, Tennyson, who after a one night stand made it clear he preferred to keep things professional. The only thing Astor's not tired of is his job researching haunted inns and hotels to prove just how haunted they're not.

  His latest book is about a notorious inn in the middle of nowhere, and a haunting he suspects has more to do with real werewolves than fake ghosts. It will provide fodder for an excellent non-fiction book, the novel he's secretly writing, and be so distracting he'll finally be able to get over Tennyson.

  Except when he arrives it's to find that Tennyson is already there, with every intention of keeping Astor company through the holidays.

  "I don't care what he does for a living," Astor snapped, taking a right turn a little harder than intended, his driving suffering for his temper. At least he wasn't on a highway where he'd be surrounded by even more idiots to further fray his temper. He corrected himself,
took a deep breath, and resumed yelling at his stupid cousin. Talking or shouting sense into Amanda was an exercise in futility, but still he had to try. "That man is a trial by jury waiting to happen, and you are only proving yourself to be a nitwit—"

  He jerked as she slammed her phone down, hanging up on him. Who even used phones that slammed anymore? Switching his to silent, he threw it on the passenger seat in disgust. May whatever deities existed spare him further family aggravation while he was on this trip. He gave it a month before Amanda went running home in tears because her new perfect, wonderful, wealthy lawyer boyfriend turned out to be scum precisely as Astor had tried to tell her. He could spot bad news at a hundred yards, but did anyone listen to him? No.

  Disgusted, fed up, and in sore need of a beer, Astor hit the gas and sped up the mountain, moderately soothed by the growl and purr and smooth motion of his bright blue corvette. He could not wait to reach the inn where he would be spending the next month doing research for his new book. He was going to enjoy every second of not having to manage the rampant stupidity afflicting the rest of his family.

  Instead he'd be focusing on ghosts and his own rampant stupidity; it would almost be a nice change.

  The parking lot was mostly empty when he reached the inn, and Astor felt more than justified in stealing two parking spaces for his car. If there was so much as a scratch on his corvette when he left there, he'd give the inn some real ghosts to worry about. He put the top up on his car and gathered up his jacket, duffle bag, laptop bag, and phone from the passenger seat. He stalked toward the inn—

  —And stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on a familiar car. He would know that dark blue BMW anywhere, even pretending for a moment that he didn't have the license plate memorized. What the hell was Tennyson doing there? He was supposed to be fourteen hours away, at home. Astor had picked the Grey Lake Inn precisely because the 'prime ghost viewing period' was during Christmas and so no one would bother to visit him or check up on him. He had planned to bury himself in the mountains for a month to work on two things: his new book, and to stop being in love with his agent.