by Mary Lindsey
“Don’t what?” he asked, sitting on the bed.
“You dare to enter the inner sanctum of the Speaker?” I joked, looking around.
“The oppressed subordinate is feeling brave.” He chuckled and patted the spot next to him. “If you’d leave your phone on, this would be much easier.”
And much less embarrassing, I thought as I shoved a pair of underwear under the bed with my foot. “Is something wrong?”
He stared at me with his odd, gray eyes. “No. Well, yes, actually. I need you to leave your phone on all the time. Since we’re in the twenty-first century, we should take advantage of the technology.”
“Okay, I’ll leave it on.” I stood awkwardly near the doorway. I never felt this way with Zak. My attraction to Alden was unnatural. So intense it was painful. Pain lets you know you’re alive, Alden had said when we soul-shared. I’d been walking around numb for the last three months, and for the first time since Dad’s death, I felt truly alive. “Is that all?”
“No. I didn’t really get to say good-bye to you properly when I dropped you off,” he said, scanning me from head to toe.
Was he finally starting to accept me as Lenzi? I didn’t respond for fear my heart would be successful in its attempt to escape from the confines of my rib cage. I knew what I’d consider a proper good-bye. I took a step closer, hoping he had the same thing in mind.
“Well, we didn’t have closure to the resolution, and we didn’t make plans for the next one. I’m not supposed to leave business unfinished like that,” he explained. A peculiar look crossed his face. “Are you okay?”
Business. It had nothing to do with me. It was business. “I’m great. Finish it. Let’s have closure.”
He stood up. “What’s wrong? You feel off.”
Well, that was a good way of wording it. “I’m fine, Alden. Just get on with it. I’m tired.”
“I’m sorry. We can do the interview for the resolution report later, but we have to come up with a strategy to fulfill the promise tonight.”
“Report? I thought it was a school report.”
“No. I don’t go to school, Lenzi. I’ve graduated. IC training ends when the Speaker emerges.”
I leaned against the closed door. “But you told me you were taking a correspondence course.”
“No, I told you my parents thought I was taking a correspondence course. I’m doing the paperwork for us. It’s part of my job. The IC keeps track of resolutions. You know, trends in Hindered requests and duration of negotiations—stuff like that.”
I gasped. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. They keep bogeyman statistics?”
He sat back down on the edge of my bed. “Mm-hm. There’s an entire department at the IC devoted to it.”
“Why on earth would someone keep up with something like that?”
“As the population increases, so do the death rates, and logically, so do the Hindered. The Intercessor Council ensures that the Speaker-Hindered ratio is balanced. There are a lot more of us now than there were the last time you did this.”
Always Rose. “I haven’t done this before,” I whispered. Ratios. Reports. What in the world had I gotten myself into?
“There are more of us than ever before.”
“I can just imagine the recruiting poster. ‘Ghost whisperers wanted: no experience necessary. Death wish and masochistic tendencies a must.’”
He smiled. “Yeah, something like that.”
“So, what else did you need to do to wrap up our little business transaction?” I asked, fidgeting with the bottom of my shirt.
He checked me out again before he answered. “We have to keep our promise to Suzanne. I’ll go to the hospital while you’re at school tomorrow and see if I can get an address on her. I doubt it, though. Hospitals are pretty tight with information like that. Sometimes I can chat people up and get them to tell me stuff.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I bet you can.”
He stood and strode the door. “Please leave your phone on. I’ll pick you up after school so we can close the file.”
“Is that an order?”
“No. It’s a request—an invitation. Lenzi, will you please allow me to pick you up after school so that we can close Suzanne’s file?” He gifted me with a gorgeous smile.
“I’d love that.”
I sat on my bed long after he left, staring at Dad’s guitar in the corner. The melody Zak wrote for me ran through my mind. When I closed my eyes, I could see Zak sitting on the coffee table with his guitar, giving me his heart in a song.
“What am I doing, Dad?” I asked. I held my breath, waiting for a reply that didn’t come. Deep down, I knew the answer.
SIXTEEN
The clock in my American history classroom moved in slow motion. I fidgeted, willing time to speed up so I could see Alden again. I’d hardly slept last night.
Maybe Alden was right. Maybe being a Speaker was a gift.
“Help me,” a woman’s voice whispered in my ear.
A gift with drawbacks.
“She stole it,” the disembodied voice continued.
“Not now. Go away,” I whispered.
“You must help me retrieve it.”
“Go haunt someone else. I said, not now!”
“Miss Anderson?” The entire class was looking at me. “Is there a problem?” Ms. Mueller asked.
“Um, no, ma’am.” I’d always done my best to be invisible and not draw attention to myself. I shifted in my chair as all eyes in the room appraised me.
“Who were you talking to, Miss Anderson?” Ms. Mueller waddled close enough for me to see the coffee stains on her lavender polka-dotted blouse. She appeared to enjoy my discomfort. “I thought for a minute you might be talking to a ghost or something.”
Titters and giggles erupted.
Apparently satisfied, Ms. Mueller resumed her mindnumbingly boring lecture about the Battle of Gettysburg, and one by one, my classmates stopped gawking. I relaxed and let my mind wander back to Alden. My snobby classmates might have lots of things I didn’t have, but they didn’t have anything like him—a hot, mysterious ghost boy. My feelings for Alden were intense and dangerous, just like the life he was encouraging me to embrace. So different from Zak, who represented everything I thought I wanted in a boyfriend—until now.
At last the bell rang.
It took no time at all to force my way to my locker, stuff my backpack, and fly out the front door. Alden wasn’t in the line yet, which gave me time to return Zak’s text. He’d sent me a message during trig asking me to hang out this afternoon.
I can’t, I wrote. I’m going to study with a friend. I’ll call you when I get home.
I couldn’t keep lying like this. Maybe Alden was right: it was easier not to be with anyone if you were in the ghost-hunting business—well, except for maybe another ghost hunter.
I pushed Send right as Alden pulled up. I took a deep breath, shoved aside my guilt over lying to Zak again, and dropped my phone into my purse. Alden grinned at me through the windshield, causing my heart to lurch.
“Sorry I’m late. The medical center traffic was a nightmare,” he said, opening the passenger door for me.
“She stole it. You must help me,” the female voice demanded as I buckled my seat belt.
“Leave me alone! I told you to go away and leave me alone!” I shouted.
Alden closed his door. “Wow. I thought we were making some progress. I sure hope there’s someone else in the car with us and that ugliness wasn’t directed at me.”
I was certain Alden was the only person in the world who would wish a voice with no body was in the car with him. “Of course it’s not directed at you. This bogeywoman’s driving me nuts. I got busted in class because of her.”
He brushed my hair behind my shoulder. “Hi. It’s nice to see you too, Lenzi. I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
I laughed. “Sorry. Hi. She is driving me crazy, though.”
He started the car. “What does she want?”
“She says that someone stole something from her.”
“Cool! I love it when they’ve been wronged. The resolution can be exciting. It’s worth a lot of points. Not as many as a Malevolent, but not as dangerous, either.”
“Points?”
“There has to be some kind of grading scale, doesn’t there? If not, every Speaker-Protector pair would pick the easy ones to pump up their statistics.” He turned onto the freeway service road. “You and I had the highest score three cycles running.”
“I’ve never done this before, Alden.”
He grinned. “Yes, you have—you just don’t remember.” He pulled into a coffee shop parking lot around the corner from the school. “I want you to meet some friends of mine, and yours too, sort of.”
I pulled the handle on my door as Alden walked around the front of the car. “I can open my own door, Alden,” I said as he held the door open for me.
“Of course you can. Would you like to open mine for me, instead?”
I squinted as I stepped out into the sunshine. “No. It’s just old-fashioned, that’s all.”
“I’m old-fashioned, Lenzi.” He laughed, pulling a computer case out of the backseat. “I’m old. Really old. Humor me, okay?” He gestured for me to lead to the door of the small, trendy coffee shop.
“Wait, Alden. I really don’t want to meet your friends dressed like this.”
“They’re your friends too. And you look fantastic. I love the school uniform. You have great legs.”
“Shut up!” I gasped. “I thought you were an old man!”
“Old soul. Young man. Big difference. It’s okay, though; we’re just friends, remember?”
Man, did I ever.
The coffee shop smelled delicious. Coffee, chocolate, and cinnamon. A couple at a small table began waving the minute we walked in the door. Both of them looked like weight lifters. Neither was tall, but both were muscled. The boy stood. Alden gestured for me to lead. The girl in the pair ran up and hugged me with gusto.
“Rose! You look great! I’m so glad you’re back. Come on and join us.” The girl bounded back to her companion. “She looks great. Doesn’t she, Race?”
The short, redheaded boy stepped out from behind the table and kissed my cheek. “She has always looked great. It’s good to see you, Rose.”
Alden pulled out my chair. “She goes by Lenzi now.”
“Why?” the boy, Race, asked.
Alden leaned forward. “For the same reason you two go by Race and Maddi. She doesn’t like her real name.”
“Yeah, but Rose is a timeless name. Our names are dated,” the girl said.
“What are your real names?” I asked.
Both of them stared at me in astonishment.
Alden put his arm around me. “Okay, guys. I told you on the phone that I needed to tell you something. This is it. She has no memory of her past lives at all. None.”
Race and Maddi were studying me with a combination of pity and amazement. I felt like I was a science experiment gone wrong.
Alden stood. “Lenzi, I apologize for not introducing you properly. This is Maude Wilson and Horace McLain. Maude and Horace prefer to go by Maddi and Race. Both of them are Protectors, like me. Maddi and Race, this is Lenzi Anderson.”
Race stood. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lenzi.”
Maddi remained seated, studying me.
“Wow,” Race said. “This is weird. I’ve never heard of this happening before. Is it in the rule book, Alden?”
“No. I can’t find another case of past-life amnesia in any of the IC documents I’ve read. I don’t think the IC knows about it yet. And I hope if we become productive, they won’t care.” Alden slumped back into his chair.
“What do you mean, ‘become productive’? Can’t she intercede?” Race asked, not taking his eyes off me as he sat back down.
Alden took my hand. “She’s fine. She battled a Malevolent and resolved a juvenile Hindered.”
“A Malevolent,” Race repeated. “Was it—”
“No,” Alden cut him off. “It wasn’t. Not yet, anyway. Subject closed.”
“Got it.” Race gave Alden a conspiratorial wink.
To me, the only thing weirder than having past lives I didn’t remember was meeting people who knew things about me from those lives. I was intrigued and repelled at the same time.
Maddi and Race seemed nice enough, and though they seemed familiar to me somehow, I’d no definite recollection of ever meeting them before. In contrast to her muscular build and spiky short haircut, Maddi had a sweet, feminine face. She wore a floral western shirt with pearlized snaps down the front. Race had freckles that were set off perfectly by his thick red hair. Eyelashes in matching red framed his blue eyes. He had on a Rolling Stones T-shirt.
“How long ago did she emerge?” Maddi asked.
Alden squeezed my hand. “This is day five.”
Maddi and Race gave each other a sideways glance.
“Have you closed the cases yet?” Maddi asked Alden.
Alden shook his head.
“Nothing in five days? I’m surprised the IC hasn’t called a session. You’d better do something quick, Alden. It would be a shame to lose her.”
I shifted in my chair. “Do what quick? Lose who? Me?”
“Inform, Alden. Inform, protect, and serve,” Race scolded. “You’re in pretty deep if they call a session. You’d better get your act together and tell her what’s going on before it’s too late.”
Alden gripped the edge of the tiny round table. “When was the last time you trained a Speaker from scratch, Race? How about you, Maddi? I’m doing the best I can. Both of you are much younger than your Speakers. Generations younger. They trained you . . . just like Rose trained me. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I need your help, not your condemnation.” He buried his face in his hands.
I shifted my gaze from Race to Maddi to Alden in astonishment. Why hadn’t he told me there was some time limit? What in the world was a session?
“Alden, tell me what to do.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “Tell me how to help you.”
Race let out a whoop. “You’re right, Alden! She doesn’t remember a thing. The Rose I know would never ask you to tell her what to do!”
Maddi laughed. “Yeah, she was too busy telling you what to do!”
Both of them giggled and gave each other a high five.
Race reached across and patted his shoulder. “Why haven’t you finished the paperwork?”
“The first Hindered resolution only happened last night, and she was so upset by the Malevolent before that, I didn’t want to interview her yet. We’re going to close the first resolution file after I pick up my little sister, and then we’ll take on a Hindered that’s been hassling her today about retrieving some kind of stolen item.”
Maddi clapped her hands. “Ooooh. Restitution. Those are my favorites. Worth a lot of points. You’ll love it, Lenzi. It’s really exciting. Nothing better than a justifiably angry Hindered. Has it been haunting the perpetrator? Those are the best ones.”
“I have no idea.” I couldn’t believe anyone could be stoked about something so creepy.
Race jumped up. “I’ve got it! You work on the first resolution file, Alden, and I’ll interview Rose . . . Lenzi about the Malevolent. You’re up to it, aren’t you, Lenzi?”
Race’s enthusiasm was contagious. I nodded.
“Ha! See?” Race pulled out Maddi’s chair. “Maddi, darling, will you go get something wonderful for Lenzi so that we can fill her full of sugar and caffeine to get her ready for her busy schedule? We’re gonna make a significant dent in the Hindered population around here!”
Before long, I was at a separate table with Race, sipping on a mocha latte, answering questions about my encounter with the Malevolent in Kemah. Race entered my answers on his laptop into a document that looked like a standard form for a normal business, except it had strange questions. At the top of the form, I noticed a grading scale.<
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Alden and Maddi were at a table across from us. She was reading out information from a paper file while he entered the data on his own laptop. Occasionally, Alden would look over at me, causing my heart to beat a little faster.
“Done,” Race proclaimed right as Alden’s phone rang.
Alden’s face clouded as he inspected the caller ID screen. He turned the phone toward Race, Maddi, and me. “ICDC” appeared on the screen.
“Oh, no! We weren’t fast enough!” Maddi gasped.
“Wait!” Race said. He pushed Send on the form he had just completed, and his computer made a whooshing sound. “Okay. Go ahead.”
Alden gave me a significant look and answered the phone. “This is Protector 438.”
Maddi squeezed her eyes shut, and Race took my hand.
Alden stared straight ahead while he spoke. “Yes, sir, I understand. . . . No, everything is fine; I’m simply behind in my paperwork. . . . Yes, sir, I am at fault. . . . No, sir, I believe she is not at zero. I have just submitted a Malevolent with Negative Outcome Form. I’m holding a Standard Hindered Form. . . . Yes, sir. Completely my error. . . . Yes, I anticipate resolution of a Hindered seeking restitution before midnight—Tomorrow?” He shot me a frightened look. “Yes, sir. We would be available to meet with a representative tomorrow. . . . Noon in Galveston at the Seawall historical marker. Yes, sir, we’ll be there.” Alden ended the call and continued staring straight ahead.
“Is it a formal session?” Maddi asked, breaking the tense silence. “Will it be a hearing?”
Alden glanced over at me and then at Maddi. “No. They just want to talk to us.”
“That can’t be a good thing,” Race said.
“Frankly, I’m surprised it took them this long.” Alden began packing up his laptop.
“What is ICDC?” I asked Race.
“Intercessor Council Disciplinary Committee.”
