Psychic Wanted [Un]Dead or Alive

by Amie Gibbons

  I was crying freely now, and the screams came out with strangled cries on the end of the sentences.

  “Selfish? Immature? Entitled? Let’s see, what else did you say about me? That you can’t trust me anymore? That I’ll never grow up? Something like that.”

  My voice broke and I glared at him, shaking so hard I was surprised flames weren’t burstin’ up around me from the friction.

  Grant stared back.

  Ice.

  Oh well.

  I wasn’t backing down.

  Not this time.

  “Everything I said was true, Ryder,” Grant said. “You haven’t grown up. And you won’t with me there. And you haven’t dropped this little fantasy about us even after I made it clear it would never happen.”

  I stared at him.

  Anger rushed out of me.

  Leaving me empty.

  Numb.

  A hand landed on my shoulder and I didn’t so much as jerk.

  Carvi squeezed my shoulder. Obviously, he’d heard all that.

  “I am not a possibility, Ryder,” Grant said. “I have never felt that way about you. I was attracted to you, and after Miami, you seemed to think that attraction meant something. It doesn’t. We are not an item to be. We would not be a good fit. I do not see you as someone I want to have a relationship with. I never have.”

  How could he say all this?

  What was happening?

  “And you are still acting this little drama out in your head,” Grant said, still so calm, “like we’re in a lover’s quarrel and we just need to kiss and make up. We’re not and we won’t. There has never been anything going on between us, and if me being cold and distant is the only way to get that through to you, then so be it. Put the possibility of us out of your mind, because there is no us.”

  My breath stalled in my chest and I forced a gulp of air down.

  “Fuck you,” I hissed, then screamed, “Fuck you! You can’t just… We’re friends! I didn’t imagine that, did I? You weren’t just being nice and cuddling me and hanging with me to make sure the psychic kept coming around, were you? That wasn’t all built up in my head. You acted like we were friends. Was that all a lie?”

  “You done?” Grant asked.

  “Oh yeah.” I barked a laugh. “Yeah, I think that’s a good word for it. Yes, I’m done. I’m done with this whole situation. I’m done with tryin’ to figure out what you want. I’m done with tryin’ to win your approval. I’m done with tryin’ to be your friend because you don’t deserve it. I’m done with you! You are not the man I thought you were. You are cold and mean, and a user!”

  Grant didn’t say anything.

  I turned and marched away, Carvi close at my heels.

  “Lea.” Carvi caught my hand and pulled me to a stop at the front door. “I have to check it first.”

  “I can’t deal with this,” I whispered, wiping under my nose.

  Quil walked up and held out a little packet of tissues.

  I nodded my thanks and wiped my nose.

  “Sweets?” Quil’s tone made it a question.

  “No,” I said. “I can’t… I can’t even think right now.”

  “I know you’re upset, but…”

  Apparently there really was nothin’ to say in a situation like this.

  “Think of,” I said slowly, “the worst things you think about yourself, the things you know are wrong with you. Now imagine someone you cared about told you that you were right, that those things made you just as unlovable as you thought, and used those as the list of reasons that they don’t want to be around you anymore.

  “And you know this person knows what they’re talkin’ about, because they know you. Because they have seen you at your worst, so they know you’re not good enough, and they’ve seen you at your best and judge it not enough to make up for the bad.

  “And they tell you so. They tell you no matter how good you are to them, no matter how much you are there for them or care about them, that it’ll never be enough.

  “How do you deal with that?”

  Carvi said something I didn’t process and walked outside, probably to check it.

  “I feel…” I laughed. “God, I don’t even know right now. I don’t have any feelings right now. I am numb.”

  I looked up into Quil’s eyes. “But I do feel like I should be feeling guilty right now. I’m upset because another guy basically broke up with me, but I’m with you. I shouldn’t be upset like this. Should I?”

  “Oh, sweets.” Quil pulled me into a tight hug. “There aren’t a lot of shoulds when it comes to emotions. You feel how you feel. And I love you.”

  “I love you,” I said. “It’s just… like it’s totally separate from what I feel for Grant. And I don’t get it. I don’t like it. I love you, but I feel brokenhearted. I shouldn’t be able to feel both at once.”

  I dug my fingers into his shirt. “I can’t feel this much at once. I can’t.”

  He just hugged me tighter.

  When would Carvi be back?

  What if Grant walked in here?

  “I can’t deal with this,” I whispered into Quil’s shirt.

  “You can,” he said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you have no choice.”

  Chapter six

  We waited in the kitchen for Mender’s and Crowley’s teams to get there. The scene had already been picked over though.

  “I don’t understand what you guys are doing here,” I said, perching on the counter.

  For some reason sitting on the chairs just felt wrong. Like I shouldn’t be that comfortable.

  “We need all teams on this,” Mender said, voice even and steady. “Which one of our teams would you like to join?”

  I’d had only a few minutes to stew. Grant hadn’t come down.

  I hadn’t felt much of anything as I sat and waited.

  Honestly, the assassin could’ve snuck up on me and I would’ve stayed frozen in place and ready to die.

  Why did broken hearts seem like the theme of this Halloween?

  I stared at them.

  What team?

  I had a team.

  No, they were kicking me off my own team.

  Our new lab tech, Heather Kincaid, came in and I looked at her.

  She waved, giving me a tight smile.

  She had straight light blond hair to her midback she normally kept in a braid to keep it out of her face, and dark blue eyes with great lashes I’d envied since the moment I met her. She had glasses, but we usually never saw them unless she was pulled to a crime scene during strange hours and couldn’t take the time to get her contacts in.

  I liked her. We hadn’t really hung out since she was in her mid-thirties and had a kid to get home to every night, but she was always kind, pretty funny, and she didn’t have any problems with me being psychic like some people did.

  She was just chill and kinda took things as they came.

  I wished I was more like that.

  Mender jerked her head. “Scene’s upstairs. Already clean. Not sure if you’ll find anything the cops missed this morning.”

  “Already clean?” Heather asked.

  Mender shrugged. “Damn Metro. They let the wife back in there practically right after they were done processing. Just assumed there was nothing they missed. She cleaned out the tub before anyone thought to check up there and stop her.”

  Heather gritted her teeth and nodded once. “I can check around the house. EMF?”

  “Not by the time we got here. And the cops this morning didn’t know to check for it.”

  “How do we know it’s tied to the others then?”

  Mender nodded at me. “Showed up with the others when Ryder was looking.”

  “And you haven’t checked the crime scene?” Heather asked me.

  I nodded. “Did. Nothing came up.”

  Well, that was a lie.

  “Try again with me walking you through things?” she asked. “If there’s no real
forensics left, you’re the best I got.”

  I looked at Carvi. “I’m not going up there til he leaves.”

  Heather looked between us.

  “Agent Ryder,” Mender sighed, pinching her nose, “I…” she shook her head.

  “I’m going to go check upstairs,” Heather said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but considering we’re talking about a serial killer ghost, can you put it aside and come upstairs with me?”

  Her tone made me prickle.

  She sounded so freakin’ condescending!

  I squinted at her and she stared at me.

  Flash.

  “What do you mean?” Heather asked, leaning up in a bed and looking towards the side.

  The picture started on her face and expanded outward.

  She was propped up in a small, practical and practically bare room.

  One I recognized.

  I knew that plain dark blue quilt, and that the only decoration was a bookshelf with biographies, history books, and thrillers on it up against the wall next to the bathroom I couldn’t see, and that the closet was full of muted colored tops and slacks.

  I knew that computer desk across from the bed, with the clunky desktop from like twenty years ago he’d never bothered to replace because it still worked.

  I’d been in that bedroom.

  Bringing Grant soup when he was sick with the flu. The one time he was so weak he actually needed someone there to help him.

  I’d stayed there for hours, hanging with him while we watched TV, and reading him to sleep.

  “I mean,” Grant’s voice came from the side, from where I knew his bathroom was, “coworkers dating is usually a bad idea. This could get complicated and messy. I don’t want any drama or anyone in my business.”

  “Wes, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business,” Heather said, smiling. “At work, I’ll be professional. But I won’t hide anything like I’m ashamed. If you’re my boyfriend, if we’re in a relationship, then that’s what we are.

  “It won’t come into the office, but you are friends with your coworkers, and if we all go out, I want us to be out together. If you’re not okay with that, this will not work. Yes, it can be complicated and messy, especially if it doesn’t work out. If that’s a worry, then it’s too late, we’re already involved. If it just may be a problem, then if it gets to that point, I will leave.”

  He walked into the room, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and nothing else, and smiled at her, one of his big, full smiles that were so rare.

  “You know your ability to do that is why I like you,” he said.

  “What? To tell you what I want? Or what I’ll do if things go bad?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled at that, shaking her head and laughing.

  He climbed into bed, wrapping his arm around her, and she leaned into him, laying her head on his chest.

  I blinked in the real world, everything rushing in on me, like a movie camera zooming in on the person’s face.

  Blood pounded so hard it could’ve popped my skin.

  And I couldn’t breathe.

  She. Had. Spent. The. Night. With. Grant.

  I couldn’t even think of it.

  How did it happen?

  Why?

  My stomach rolled and nausea made me curl up.

  She was with Grant.

  My Grant.

  I wanted to puke.

  If I puked, it was goin’ all over her.

  She was his girlfriend?

  How long had this been going on?

  “What just happened?” Heather asked, staring at me.

  “Are you freakin’ kidding me!” I screamed.

  Heather jerked back and Mender said something I couldn’t hear through the rushin’ in my ears.

  “You’re sleeping with him!” I continued, jumping off the counter, holding onto it so I wouldn’t do anything I’d regret.

  Heather’s mouth opened slightly.

  “He said he wouldn’t date anyone he worked with! He said he wouldn’t do that because it’d compromise cases. He… he’s a liar! How could you date him? You are dating. You said he was a boyfriend. Do you know what he did?”

  “Sweets,” Quil said from somewhere behind me.

  “No!” I said, pointing at Heather. “He said he wouldn’t date anyone he worked with. And he is. He’s sleeping with her. I saw them talkin’ about this in bed. He didn’t even mention that it might be a problem.

  “I mean, look at her, she’s in shock. He should’ve at least warned her there was an issue here. How could he not even mention this? He is not the person I thought he was. He’s been using me this whole time. Pretending to be my friend. Pretending to care!”

  Quil walked into my line of vision.

  And I swear he looked disappointed.

  “Okay,” Carvi said.

  He had his arms under me and swept me up before I processed he was even touching me.

  “Hey!” I said.

  “Carvagio,” Quil said.

  “No, don’t worry,” Carvi said, walking us into the living room. “We need to have a talk. Trust me, I’m not going to try anything right now.”

  “She’s-” Quil said.

  “Yes, which is why I’m dealing with her,” Carvi said.

  What the quack was happening here?

  He walked us through the living room and into a side den area with big cushy couches and a giant TV.

  “What do you mean y-” I started.

  “No,” Carvi said, dropping me on the couch. “Ariana, we need to have a talk.”

  “But he-” I pointed.

  “No.” Carvi leaned forward and pinched my lips together gently. “We’re going to talk about what just happened in there.”

  Fury built in my chest and I swung my legs off the couch, pushing up.

  “No,” Carvi said, shoving me back down. “Ariana, stay. I don’t like having to play the adult. Being an irresponsible playboy is a hell of a lot more fun. But right now, I’m playing the adult. I have to because you’re being a child.”

  “Screw you!” I snapped, shoving up. “I’m not a child, Carvi. And you are irresponsible and immature and cruel! You don’t get to tell me anything!”

  Carvi moved too fast for me to react and pushed me back down, fixing his eyes on mine.

  The world… shimmered.

  And snapped back.

  “What did you just do?” I asked.

  “Moved us to the astral plane,” Carvi said. “This is going to take longer than I thought, and we’ll have more time in here.”

  I tried to move and couldn’t.

  “Carvi!”

  “Ariana, listen to me, what happened in there, you have to realize that’s not okay.”

  “But he made me f-”

  “No.” He held up a finger. “No one can make you do anything. Well, I could, but that’s not what happened there. Now, are you going to cooperate and talk to me, or do I need to get tough with you?”

  I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms.

  So I could move somewhat here.

  “What happened in there?” Carvi asked.

  “Grant’s an asshole!” I said.

  “No, he’s not,” Carvi said.

  I scowled at him.

  “No, no, lea, listen to me,” Carvi said. “Take a breath and listen.”

  I did as he said.

  “I made a mistake in July.”

  I jerked.

  When did Carvi ever admit that?

  “I didn’t understand the dynamic I was seeing. I do now. I didn’t see the underlying damage because you have gotten so good at covering it up.”

  What damage?

  “I thought Grant wanted you,” Carvi said, “and just had a stick up his ass and needed to get some, and you obviously wanted him. And what happened?”

  I stared at him. Did he want me to answer that or what?

  “You were hyped up on the hormones I produce,” he said. “You were vulnerable and more th
an ready to go, but you were the magical equivalent of tipsy, maybe even drunk. If there’s a prior physical relationship and the people know each other’s limitations, that’s fine, it’s even fun. I can play with you when you’re in that state because I can read your mind, I know exactly where you are, and I respect the boundaries when you say the magical equivalent of a safe word.”

  My mouth worked.

  “Yes, lea, I pushed you, but you do realize I always backed off when you needed me to?”

  And here I thought he was just a user that I liked despite that.

  Which I never really understood.

  “You threatened to rape me,” I said, glaring.

  “To scare you, because it was the most immediate way of activating your powers. I’m a dick sometimes. That’s not the point here.”

  I glared harder.

  Carvi nodded. “Okay, so when you know the other person, it’s probably okay, but what happens when a man takes a woman he hasn’t known that way, when she’s in that state?”

  “Carvi, you-”

  “Ent,” he said, holding up a hand. “Let me say that a different way. In a TV show or books, when the heroine is upset and vulnerable, and maybe even drunk, and she throws herself at the main guy, what happens?”

  “He says no, of course.”

  Carvi snapped his fingers. “See, there you go. Why?”

  “Because… because if he doesn’t, then he’s a dick.”

  “And what does writing that in do for the characters? Do for the plot?”

  Ohhhhhhh. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back and pressin’ my lips together. “It makes it so you know that he’s a good guy, because good guys don’t do that.”

  “Exactly. Grant passed the good guy test in July. What would’ve happened if he had given in? I mean, you were throwing yourself at him. And after that, he acted like things were normal and he was just your boss and friend?”

  “He would’ve been a dick then,” I said. “Any guy who’d take advantage of a vulnerable girl like that when he didn’t want more would be.”

  “And there it is,” Carvi said, the words holding too much weight.

  “What? I’m in love with Grant because he’s a good guy?”

  “Nooooo.” Carvi took a deep breath. “Ariana, you are far more stubborn than you first let on. You really don’t want to go there, but you need to, so I’m about to push you. What happened when you were fifteen?”