Misfortune Cookie

by Casey Wyatt

  I closed my eyes, the sound of his voice flowing over me like a silk blanket pulled across bare skin.

  “Your mortal life is over.”

  And he had to ruin my good mood. I straightened my spine, ready to argue, when I felt it again. The tug. That compulsion to act. Heat burned the brand in my chest and my hands itched.

  Luca removed his glasses and pocketed them. When he looked up, his pupils swirled with an otherworldly glow. “Do not deny what you feel.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” With stiff movements, I left the bedroom and headed for the bathroom, toiletry bag in hand, ignoring the compulsion.

  Luca growled behind me, “Do not do this.”

  “Do what?” Nausea cramped my stomach. Saliva pooled in my mouth. I steadied myself against the vanity. The cool porcelain eased the tingling sensation in my palms. “It must be lack of food.”

  “No. You must not ignore the call to serve.” He reached forward.

  I jerked away. “Don’t touch me!” Wings fluttered. Displaced air slapped my face. Two yellow eyes stared at me, as if indicting me for my lack of action. Gray fog surrounded my vision. Through the haze, agonized screams echoed in my head.

  “We’re too late!” Luca lunged forward and slung me over his shoulder in an iron grip. Strange lyrical words were spoken. Black fog rose under his feet. “Close your eyes.”

  The tiled bathroom floor disappeared. Fear slammed my eyes shut before we dropped into a free fall. My stomach jumped over my head. Warm wind whipped my hair and a dull roar raged in my ears. Vertigo ripped through me. Keening wails rose from my throat as I fought the urge to puke.

  We stopped abruptly.

  Luca set me down gently.

  I fell to my knees and vomited the contents of my empty stomach onto the dry grass. I groaned. “I think I left some internal organs back at the house.”

  “Next time, don’t fight it,” he whispered next to my ear, then smoothed my hair off my damp forehead. Brownie points for a man who holds a girl’s hair back while she barfs.

  Another wave of sickness gurgled in my stomach, but I managed to keep it down. Luca rubbed slow circles along my back while crooning in that strange language again. Moments later, I stood up on rubbery legs. The brands pulsed against my palms.

  “Why are we here?” I studied the landscape. Night had already fallen, obscuring a row of battered houses in a neighborhood long past its prime. The streetlamps cast weak yellow halos along the weed-strewn sidewalk. My skin crawled with the heebie-jeebies. Something was wrong in this place.

  “Trust your senses. There is a wayward spirit here.” The weight of Luca’s hands fell on my shoulders. “We must immobilize it, before it causes more harm.”

  More harm. With a sinking sense of dread, I realized the remark was aimed at my stubbornness. Remorseful, I nodded and closed my eyes. “What do I have to do?”

  “Seek out the place between the worlds, where the soul is most vulnerable to capture.”

  “Could we catch it here?” I motioned to the area around us, not quite believing the situation was real.

  “Too easy for mortals to observe our actions.”

  “Right. We don’t want to end up on the next episode of Ghost Hunters.”

  Luca stood an inch from my nose. Every nerve ending in my body lit up. “Do not mock what you don’t understand. It is always better for the living to remain unaware of the spirit world. Escaped souls can feed on emotions like fear. It makes them stronger. And our jobs infinitely more difficult.”

  “Fine. Okay. What am I looking for?”

  “There is a line between here and there. Find it and cross over it.” He took me by the shoulders and positioned me so I stood in the middle of the road.

  Skeptical, I did as he asked and really looked. Sure enough, a faint demarcation glimmered horizontally as if the street was discolored on one side. I glanced at Luca.

  He nodded. “Intend to be on the other side and it will happen.”

  “That’s it? Peter Pan it? Clap your hands and all that.”

  “Yes.” He offered me his hand and I reluctantly took it.

  Together we moved over the line. The sensation of pushing through gelatin glided over my skin. After that initial resistance, the air cooled. No different than moving into an air-conditioned building on a sultry day. The chill remained in the air and, even though it was dusk, all colors were muted. Like we had stepped into a faded photograph.

  Down the street, as if straight out of the ‘what doesn’t belong here’ pages, a lone barn owl perched in a tree. Its white feathers glowed with an otherworldly luminescence. Two golden eyes stared at us with a knowing intelligence beyond any wild owl I’d ever encountered.

  Luca smiled. “How fortunate. A spirit guide awaits you.”

  “So you see the owl too?”

  Of course he sees me, daft girl. Luca, have you taught this child nothing?

  “Nice to see you again, Tamzin. The female is rather stubborn,” Luca said matter-of-factly.

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  We don’t have time for this. Come along now.

  “It’s my first day. What does she expect?” I grumbled, stifling the hysteria trapped in my chest. Twenty-four hours earlier, the strangest thing in my life had been Julian. After being shot, tortured, branded, and told life as I knew it was over, what was a talking owl? Seemed kind of tame, all things considered.

  The owl took flight and drifted down the barren street, the tug in my chest attuned to her direction. Our footsteps were near silent, as if the streets were carpeted, absorbing the sound. The air never moved even though I could see tree branches swaying in the wind. It was as if we weren’t really there.

  Not a single living thing crossed our path. Yet, the houses seemed to have a life of their own. Colorful lights danced around their edges, some wine colored, almost black. Others emitted vibrant greens and blues.

  “Auras. Perfectly normal,” Luca offered.

  Tamzin landed on a chain-link fence enclosing an abandoned house. Nothing screamed, “Here’s the neighborhood crack house” like the overgrown vines and shrubs that had overtaken most of the shabby structure. No telling what lay inside since most of the windows were boarded over.

  We pushed through the rampant vegetation. I resisted the urge to ask if I could get ticks in the spirit world. Tacked on the front door was a faded yellow ‘condemned’ notice, the smaller print too blurry to read.

  Luca put his fingers to his lips and deliberately moved me behind him. The idea that we could sneak up on a ghost seemed kind of silly to me. I kept the comment to myself and watched as Luca crouched in front of the door and whispered what I assumed to be a spell. The door shimmered, then faded until it was virtually transparent.

  Without saying a word, he entered the house. I followed suit. As soon as we both were inside, the door turned solid behind us, plunging the room into total darkness. Luca’s hand grasped mine and he snugged me close to his body. For a second, I caught a glimpse of eye shine, like my cat when he moved around at night. Luca placed a finger on my forehead and I could see. Instant night vision.

  Almost immediately, I wished he’d take it back. To say the house was trashed didn’t do it justice. ‘Pit of despair’ and ‘shit hole’ were both apt descriptions.

  Filth covered every available surface. Glistening slime covered the furniture, walls, piles of boxes, magazines, and other trash strewn about the floors. I sucked in a shallow breath, expecting a vile stench to match the unsanitary conditions. Nothing. No smell whatsoever. Thank goodness.

  I gingerly followed Luca’s path through what I guessed was the living room, careful not to brush up against anything. When we reached the kitchen, a heavy pot clattered to the floor.

  A solid mass crashed into Luca
, knocking him against me.

  “You’re not taking me!”

  I expected to see a fully formed spirit like Julian. Instead, there was a ragged mess. Where Julian looked photo real, this guy resembled a smudgy streak. Like an unsteady camera shot.

  “Do not fight us,” Luca said. “You are fading. If you don’t go back to the Hereafter, you will cease to exist.”

  “No, I don’t believe you! You’re here to eat my soul.” The man wielded a ladle and jabbed it toward us.

  My fingers and palms itched and burned. The brands ignited with hot white light.

  The soul screamed, “Get back, demon!” He bounced into the stove, then flung the ladle at Luca. When Luca’s hand shot out to deflect the spoon, the man lunged at me.

  Icy fingers clawed my throat with crushing force. Luca ripped him off me smashing him into the ceiling. Gasping for air, I struggled to my knees. Who knew a ghost could hurt me?

  The ghost melted into the woodwork.

  “Damn it!” Luca thrust a metal object into my hand. “A stun gun. When I shove him through the ceiling, zap him with it!”

  He left me before I could say anything. I didn’t know how to use a Taser. I aimed it where the ghost had disappeared, hoping I had the business end pointed away from me. Loud thuds shook the house. Flecks of white plaster sprinkled down like toxic snow.

  I shifted from foot to foot, switching my aim to whatever spot banged the loudest. Another louder boom sent on overhead light fixture onto my head. Stunned, I lay motionless for a second, trying hard not think about the gooey puddle I’d landed in.

  The ceiling in the kitchen cracked and bowed. Wood and plaster cascaded downward. I scrambled to untangle the broken lamp and finally freed my hands.

  “Radiance! Now!” Luca roared.

  The ghost popped through the debris and streaked toward me. I pulled the trigger. Tendrils shot out and connected with the ghost’s neck and chest. Vivid blue lightning arced through his body, convulsing him with stunning force.

  “Whoa!” I said. “Is that supposed to happen?”

  Luca came up behind me. “Yes.”

  Voltage spent, the ghost dropped to the floor.

  Luca tugged me forward. “Place your hands on him.”

  Both hands glowed obediently. I hesitated. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes. Quickly before he comes around. Please. Just do it.”

  Not wanting to find out what would happen if I didn’t cooperate, I approached the man. Calmness settled into my belly. Certainty, a sense of rightness filled me. Something clicked in my head when I touched him. The white light from my right hand combined with the black glow from the left. Silver energy washed over him.

  I braced myself for the onslaught of thoughts. Instead, a kind of movie played in my head, moving too fast for me to process. The silver darkened then turned black. I dropped my hands automatically.

  Unbidden, words formed on my lips. “This soul has been judged.”

  “I commend him to the other side,” Luca said, eyes burning. As if to match my hands, one pupil was light, the other dark before both turned coal black. He drew a dagger across his palm deep enough to draw blood.

  Luca placed the bloodied palm on the center of his chest. A whirling black vortex opened in place of the brand. The soul floated up off the ground, picked up speed then slammed into Luca. He flung out his arms and held his ground. The dark whirlpool sucked the ghost inside like a soft drink pumping through a straw.

  The vortex winked out of existence. Luca heaved in a long, ragged breath, buckling at the waist.

  I rushed forward. “Are you okay?” I traced my fingers along the lines of the brand, feeling his solid skin, warm and alive. The muscles of his well-sculpted pecs twitched ever so slightly. It didn’t escape my notices that he had a serious six-pack going on.

  “If you keep doing that, I may insist you buy me dinner first.”

  Shit. Heat scorched my cheeks. I pulled my hands away and made the mistake of looking at his face. His hooded gaze trailed down to my mouth. As if magnetized, my fingers twitched upward. I wanted to touch his body again.

  I licked my bottom lip. He smiled. Lust rippled over me. I saw a gleam in his eye. I’d seen that look before in men. It said—dessert.

  An overhead ceiling beam shifted with a rending crack, breaking the moment.

  Irritation shattered the spell between us. I stepped backward and whacked him in the arm. “Was that your idea of on the job training?”

  “Don’t blame me. You ran off before I could explain.”

  “Yeah, well next time, we need a better game plan. And some warning that he could hurt me would’ve been nice!”

  “Did you think we’d be chasing clouds of vapor?” Luca bent down and retrieved the stun gun, winding the thin cords with precise economical movements. “Or that these souls would willingly be captured?”

  I brushed ceiling grit from my hair. “I think this whole thing sucks. No amount of money is worth this shit. Why can’t you leave these souls in peace? Sure he was living in filth, but he seemed to be minding his own business when we barged in here.”

  Luca tucked in his shirt. “Is that what you think? That he was innocent. Let me show you something.” He tugged me outside and took my hands into his.

  With a whoosh, we fell and reformed inside another house. A foul stench slammed into me. Bile burned my throat. I covered my mouth and nose with my hands.

  “Look at this!” Luca demanded.

  “Oh God!” My vision caught up to what my nose already knew. A slaughter had taken place in this house. Blood, tissue, and body parts decorated every surface of the room. Small moans escaped my throat at each new horror. A shredded teddy bear. A severed foot encased in a blood drenched shoe. No matter where I looked, a new fresh hell greeted me.

  “This is what an escaped soul can do to the living if left alone. This was a family. Two adults, three children. Shall I tell you their names? Their ages.”

  Tears spilled down my cheeks and I sobbed quietly into my hands. This was my fault. I had refused to listen. Not once, but several times. When I pulled my hands away, I noticed blood coated my palms and fingertips.

  I stared at my damp clothes. The liquid, what I’d assumed was slime, was actually gore. The puddles, rivers of blood. Short breaths puffed out of my lungs as I fought to control my sanity.

  Luca put his arm around my shoulder and whispered into my hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me. I merely wished you to know that you serve a higher purpose. That your sacrifice will help save others. I know you want to be free, but consider the cost.”

  “You’re right.” I swiped away the tears. “This is my fault. Tell me their names so I won’t forget them.”

  Luca studied my face. “As you wish. But first we must alert the authorities and leave this place.”

  No argument there.

  The following morning I woke up dry-mouthed and exhausted. I’d tossed and turned all night, unable to forget the horrors of the last twenty-four hours. At least once, I considered seeking out Luca, but discarded the notion of alone time with him. Showing up by his bedside in the middle of the night, clad in only undies and a T-shirt, confused about my feelings was a recipe for trouble. Until I figured out why my body sang like a harp for his, I needed to steer clear.

  He ended up sleeping over in my guest bedroom after a brief debate about where I’d spend the night. For me the only answer was my house. Not Ashworth Manor. I wasn’t leaving Brody to fend for himself another day and I wanted—no—needed, to be in my own home. Luca relented but insisted on staying.

  After a long hot shower, I dressed in my favorite comfy jeans and an oversized T-shirt emblazoned with the name of my roller derby team. Practice would be starting in a few short weeks
and I relished being with my friends. Sure, they’d probably be surprised to learn my identity as an heiress, but I also knew it wouldn’t stop any of them from hip checking me onto the ground. If Luca thought he could stop me from enjoying my life, he could suck it.

  Downstairs, the TV blared the latest headlines. Julian loved television. Unfortunately, he couldn’t control the volume all that well. I half listened to the latest political poll results, an update on the war on terror, and some fluff about the latest celebrity brat out of rehab. Thankfully no mention of me. Yet.

  My thoughts were mostly about drinking coffee and wrangling my wet hair into a ponytail when one snippet caught my attention. “Prominent millionaire, Jonas Wilson was found murdered late last night in his penthouse. His death, right after the passing of Sebastian Ashworth, a close friend and business partner have some speculating there is a larger conspiracy. Wilson owned numerous businesses…”

  I knew Jonas. He was a rich arrogant prick, but even he didn’t deserve to be murdered. I padded down the stairs in time to see footage of EMTs wheeling out his body zipped in a black bag.

  The reporter continued. “Police have provided few details and would only confirm it was a homicide. Word from an inside source who wished to remain anonymous is that the scene was a blood bath.”

  Red stained my vision. I swayed on my feet, steadying myself by gripping the back of the sofa. After what I had seen last night, it was easy to imagine similar carnage. With a headshake, I buried away the memory, taking Luca’s advice to learn to compartmentalize. Otherwise, I’d go insane.

  With Julian nowhere in sight, I clicked the TV off and headed through the seldom-used dining room. A heavenly aroma of fresh coffee and bacon wafted out of the kitchen.

  Luca faced the counter clad only in his dress pants. My mouth watered, but not for food. Every sleek inch of his back was smooth and sculpted. His pale skin glowed in the morning sun streaming in from the windows. The light danced on his black hair and for a moment, I swore it turned a silvery white color. I blinked. Neatly folded along his back was the faint outline of phantom wings.