‘Yes. I failed.’
I opened my eyes. The answers were there, and they were as reliable as it got. Angie stared at me expectantly.
I shook my head. “You weren’t under a spell, at least not that he knows of.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Tough shit. It’s the truth.”
“I didn’t kill you. I didn’t kill myself.”
“Those would be lies.”
She glared at me. “How much do you love sucking cock?”
I frowned at her. What kind of insult…
‘I could do it all day.’ It wasn’t so much the words as the wave of desire they pulsed into my thoughts on that did it.
And now I needed to wash my brain out with steel wool and detergent. “Get me out of this cunt, now.”
“You don’t control me,” she spat. “Screw you, Pete MacDonald. You can just stay there and think about what you’ve done.”
“Wait…” I was ready to lie to get out of this body, but she was already teleporting out, her glowing body disappearing before I could come up with a way to talk her into getting me out of Timmy.
I shivered. It was cold in the cell. I tried to think. I could call her back, surely, if ghosts could call on other ghosts. Wait! I could use Timmy’s magic to get out of there.
“How do I use your magic?”
‘You can’t. It doesn’t work in the dungeons.’
Okay, now I really was screwed.
Seven – Kit
Getting Mickey beer didn’t seem like the most responsible thing to do, but I was at a loss for how else to help him. He barely seemed to realise I was there anyway. I’d asked the Animate, who’d introduced himself as ‘Cal’ to keep an eye on him while I was gone. I didn’t need to come back to a house on fire just because he’d fallen asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand.
My phone started to ring as I made it to the shop. Kat’s number lit the screen. I sighed. Dealing with my big sister was usually a chore. Today, it was likely to tip me over the edge. I was exhausted already. Did I really want to hear about her latest crisis? I repressed another sigh as I picked up the call. “Hey, Kat, what’s up?”
“You took your time. What are you out on a date or something?”
“I’m just busy. Did you need something?” I steeled myself to refuse any demands. I couldn’t drop Mickey’s beer run to go bring her some stupid thing she needed on a whim. I still couldn’t believe I’d actually gotten out of bed to bring her party feet the last time she was on a night out with friends. She’d been smashed, and her feet were apparently killing her in the insanely high new stilettos she’d chosen to wear. Apparently, that’s all the excuse she needed to get me out of bed at two a.m. on a Friday night.
“I’m just… I have to go out for a little while and my usual sitter’s busy. Would you mind?”
Of course, I minded. Typical Kat, expecting me to picture Sam’s cute little face and come running to his rescue. “If you can give me half an hour, I’ll come over then.”
She sighed. “Thanks so much, Kit. I’ll see you then.”
I got Mickey’s beer and headed back to the flat. Cal could look after Mickey for a while. I didn’t feel like dealing with the inevitable puke-fest his all-night drinking session was going to end with anyway. I would owe him one for this, and that was fine. I had a note to deliver to Vegas for the lovesick dead guy. This way we’d be even by the time I dropped it off at the MGM Grand.
Eight – Mickey
The dream had felt so real. I woke up with an empty bottle of beer in my hand and drool running down my chin. Oh aye and that American Animate was staring at me like I’d grown horns. I touched my head to make sure. Never can be too vigilant about these things, especially after that movie by Stephen King’s equally scary son whose name I can never remember.
“Hey, beer’s where my?” I shook my head. “Where’s my beer?”
“Kit went to get you some. You might want to lay off, though. You’re not looking too hot, man.”
“You’re dead.”
“Uh huh.”
“So shut up.”
“O-kay.” He smiled in that way, you know that way, like you’re being weird and no-one wants to tell you.
“I’m not dead, and I’ll drink want I what.” The belch that ripped out of me made me jump in my seat.
The Animate got up. “Are you going to puke?”
He sounded terrified! What a girl. I laughed, and he jerked back from me. “Shat your pants.”
Where was my beer again? I shook the bottle in my hand. A fag end rolled about in the bottom. I thought my mouth tasted like smoking. It doesn’t taste like beer anymore, that’s for sure.
The door opened. “Yay!” My beer delivery was home. Kit walked into the room with two bags full of goodies, just for me. I looked up at her. “I love you.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s okay, I know you’re talking to the beer.” She passed me a can.
I punched the air with the hand that let go of the empty. “Time to party.”
“Is it really okay for him to drink so much?” The uptight Animate was whispering to the lovely Kit.
She smiled. “Honestly, he’ll be fine. A few more and he’ll pass right out.”
“I thought he was going to be sick. I don’t do so good with that kind of thing.”
“Well, I hope your Vegas girlfriend is worth putting up with it for because I kind of need to leave for a bit. You’ll need to make sure he doesn’t set the place on fire or break his head going to the bathroom. You know, guy stuff.”
He blanched. I turned up the volume on my soap marathon. Vampires are so sexy.
“Oh, and watch him while he’s sleeping too,” Kit called out as she left. “In case he needs to puke.”
Nine – Nine/Britt
The shoot was for perfume Britt had ‘designed’. I sprayed the air in front of me and took a tentative sniff. It was pretty, reminding me of flowers and berries. Britt had called it cheap and tacky. The bottle was pink and shaped like a rose. I liked it.
The make-up girl stepped back, holding her breath as she revealed my new look in the mirror. The smoky pink eye-shadow was so sultry. I got up off my chair and leaned over the mirror.
“Wow,” I whispered, wondering how the girl had managed to make my skin so dewy. I had to see my King looking like this! He’d love it.
“Is it okay?” The girl whispered, a tremor of fear in her voice.
I couldn’t think why she’d be so afraid, at least not until I remembered who I was supposed to be. Britt would have hated this. She’d have insisted the girl scrape off every last bit of it and start again. I’d seen her do that, like a dozen different times. Once she’d even stabbed a make-up artist with her own brush. I grinned. “I love it.” I hugged the girl. She tensed, her shocked expression making my smile widen as I let her go.
“Uh…” The girl stared as I moved on to wardrobe.
The rack of dresses was full of gorgeous fabrics in various pink and gold hues. I knew Britt would have cast a disdainful glance at it and asked where the real designer clothes were hiding. The chiffons and silks were so beautiful. I picked one off the rack and held it up against my half naked body. I checked my glamour as I gazed into the mirror. It was holding up well, but my concentration had been terrible this morning. I knew it could slip, especially once the photographer started yelling commands at me for poses. I put the low-cut dress back and searched for one that would cover my neck and chest. Just in case. I wouldn’t want my cover blown. Not now.
The dusky pink dress set off the make-up perfectly while covering my neck and showing off my back. I twirled around after the wardrobe girl fastened the buttons at the back.
She smiled. “It’s gorgeous.”
I beamed at her. It was turning into the perfect day. “Can I keep it?”
“Of course,” she said. “Did you have a special occasion in mind?”
I bit at my lip. I didn’t want to tell anyone about
my new man, at least, not before I told Eight. “I may have a date later.”
The girl’s eyebrows shot up. “A date? Oh, please, tell me it’s that hottie from those new superhero movies. I heard he asked you out at that premier…”
I tried not to laugh. Britt had sent that guy home in tears after he didn’t live up to her usual standards in the bedroom.
“He’s not really my type,” I told her.
She didn’t push the issue, though she did seem a little disappointed. I watched Eight and Five as they talked with the photographer. They’d already been through hair and make-up and were waiting to dress once I’d picked what I was wearing. Britt often brought clones to photo shoots to help get the right shots and give the photographer choices for cool effects. I could have brought all of them, but I knew I had to bring at least two. My choices hadn’t been typical of Britt, but I’d chosen them for a reason. Five was programmed to obey the commands of her master, whoever that may be, and Eight had been my friend. The minute we teleported back to the MGM Grand, I was coming clean to both of them. I needed them in on my takeover. I couldn’t keep this up on my own.
The wardrobe girl got duplicate outfits for them, bemoaning Five’s slightly thicker frame. The sound of material ripping caused the girl to curse under her breath.
“It’s okay,” I told her, glancing at Eight and feeling as though I was looking at my own twin sister. “I only need Eight. If you can’t fix it, Nigel will make do with the two of us.”
The photographer smiled as I took Eight’s hand and approached him. The shoot started off strangely with Eight trying to duplicate my movements precisely. I asked for a time out and called for alcohol. Eight’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t question me. None of the clones ever questioned Britt.
“Are you feeling okay?” I knew it wasn’t something Britt would ever ask her, but it was something I always had whenever she’d seemed blue.
Her eyes widened. She gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth.
I wrapped my arms around her and whispered in her ear, “Everything is okay. I’ll explain it all when we get back.”
She nodded, composing herself quickly. The make-up girl approached with a tray of filled glasses. It smelled bad, but I knew it would loosen us up. The girl seemed relieved when we each took a glass and drained it. This was more like a Britton Rocks photo-shoot. Weird demands were par for the course. I just couldn’t force myself shout at anyone like she usually would. That didn’t matter. I had a reason I could fall back on. It would all make sense once people knew who ‘Britt’ was dating. My stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of him.
The rest of the shoot went by in a blur. I took Eight’s hand and placed the other on Five’s shoulder. We left without saying goodbye.
Ten – Pete
I got up and went to the bars of my new cell. They felt cold and rough on Timmy’s fingers. The surrounding darkness didn’t really fill me with much hope. This didn’t seem like a typical ‘bread and water and piss in a bucket’ kind of set up. It seemed more like a ‘get thrown into darkness and locked away until you withered and starved and became a sad little pile of bones and mush’ kind of place.
I tugged at the bars. Calling on Angie hadn’t worked so far. I was afraid that might have something to do with Timmy’s voice being the one to call on her. Ghosts could call other ghosts, but Users? I didn’t think so.
Sighing, I admitted defeat and surrendered to the company I’d been left in.
“Were you put here to die?”
‘I’m supposed to die in this prison.’
“Why were you sent here?”
‘King David knows Britt is dead. He’s raising an army of clones to be his new recruiters.’
I didn’t like the sound of that, but what could I really do about it? I sighed. “Why can’t you use magic down here?”
‘There’s some sort of dampening spell, death magic.’
“Right,” I muttered. How the hell was I going to get out of here, then? I let go of the cell’s bars to check Timmy’s pockets. I brought his phone out of his right trouser pocket a second later. “You have your phone.” What an idiot. He could just call someone. Wait, maybe there isn’t a signal.
‘Don’t!’
I dropped the phone with a clatter to the slick, mossy ground. His vehemence had actually made me jump. I winced as I moved to pick it back up.
“Why the hell not?”
‘I don’t deserve to be rescued.’
I snorted. “Really? We agree for once then.”
‘Don’t call Mickey.”
“I’ll call whoever the hell I want…” I realised suddenly that whoever I called would think I was Timmy. That would be kind of weird to explain. I switched the phone on and waited for it to power up.
‘You can’t do this to him.’
I don’t know if it was the tone of his voice or the words themselves, but I knew he was right. Mickey didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. He’d been through enough. I was dead. That wasn’t going to change. I had to let go of everything I’d known. It would be a whole lot easier if I wasn’t stuck in my worst enemy’s body. “How the hell do I get out of your body?”
‘Angie has to call on you.’
It wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. I put the phone back in Timmy’s pocket. “There has to be some other way. I don’t want to be stuck here.”
‘I’ll die in a few days. You’ll be freed when I do.’
“Stop trying to cheer me up,” I muttered.
‘I want to put things right,’ he said, sounding apologetic. ‘If I can find a way, I will. I promise you that.’
I didn’t say anything. He stopped talking to me, so I lay down and closed his eyes. If I had to wait for him to die to be released, that’s what I’d just have to do.
Eleven – Kit
Kat was trussed up in a tight leather dress and pointed-toed heels when I got to her house. She hauled open the door and nodded me inside.
I frowned at her as I walked in. “So, what’s the big emergency?”
She really looked like she was going on a date. If she was, I was going to kill her for dragging me over here.
“It’s about the guy I’ve been seeing,” she started, sounding breathless as she grabbed her coat off the rack. “It’s not what you’re thinking, but I don’t have time to explain. I’ll see you in a few hours. Thanks so much for this, Kit.”
She kissed my cheek, leaving a red lipstick print I could see in the hall mirror. If it wasn’t what I thought it was, why had she been dressed up like a slutty biker chick?
I shook my head, envisioning a Hell’s Angel for Sam’s new dad. I closed the door properly and made my way into the living room. It was late, and I suspected Sam was in bed. I checked the kitchen first to be sure he hadn’t been left making toast for his supper. He was sound asleep in bed when I checked in on him.
I rubbed the lipstick mark off my cheek in Kat’s bathroom. Whatever made me open her bathroom cupboard was being written off as idle curiosity by my guilty conscience. She’d just gotten me over to look after her kid so she could answer a late-night booty call. I was entitled to rummage.
She wasn’t on any medication, which was a relief. She’d gone through various prescription addictions for a while so I was glad that was over with. The box of pregnancy tests made me frown. Why the hell would she need those? It wasn’t a single use test that hadn’t been opened, either. It was a multi-pack and it was open. I pulled the box out and found a single test left inside.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, putting the box back and checking around the room. The small wastepaper basket was empty. I tried to relax at the realisation. It probably meant it had been a while since she took one of those tests. And if her tighter-than-skin dress could be trusted, there was nothing to worry about.
My brain didn’t want to let it go even as I came out of the bathroom and headed back down the stairs. She’d been weirdly panicked when she left. Wha
t had that been about? I knew she was good at twisting me around her finger, but honestly, was she that good of an actress? Worry filled me as I paced the house. I couldn’t relax. In the end, I went back upstairs into her bedroom. The light was an energy saver and kept the room dingy for a good five minutes as it got warmed up. Kat had never been very tidy. Piles of clothes littered the floor and her bed. It was a safe bet that she wasn’t bringing the guy she was seeing home, then. Not that I thought she had or would. She wouldn’t do that to Sam unless it was serious. So far, serious had never happened.
I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I checked the bin first. Nothing but make-up stained tissues and an empty perfume bottle. Her make-up was neatly arranged. Considering she only had two looks, daytime sultry and night time slutty, I wasn’t that surprised. The difference was mostly in the lipstick. I pulled open her dressing table drawers. The top one was jam-packed full of underwear, all dark and lacy from what I could tell. I shut the drawer. The middle drawer was a mess of papers, bills it looked like. I slid the drawer shut, asking myself what in hell I was doing going through my sister’s stuff. How would I like it if she went through mine? She wouldn’t find pregnancy tests, that much was for sure. I opened the last drawer, and my regret was instant.
The little white stick was partially hidden under another stack of papers. I pulled it out of the drawer. There were two lines in the little window. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I had no idea why Kat would keep a pregnancy test that wasn’t positive. I dropped it back into the drawer and went to check the box in the bathroom cabinet just to be sure. I swallowed a lump that had grown in my throat as my fears were confirmed. Everything clicked together in a heartbeat. My sister had just rushed out to tell the guy she was seeing that she was pregnant.
Twelve – Mickey
The dreams had freaked me out, and they didn’t stop all night. Every time I drifted off I was subjected to some fresh hell. I’d seen Tim die over and over again. I’d been helpless to stop it, every single time. I drank every time I awoke, crashing back out and repeating my nightmare cycle with some new and disturbing twists each and every time. By the time I awoke from Hell and my beer was all gone, I was twitchy enough to think about making the trip to Trish’s flat. Being bitten would chill me out. I got up. I had to do it, I had to do something.
Restless Spirits Page 3
