by Krista Wolf
“Save it for the morning.”
Kara was tired, her body stiff from the long ride. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, there wouldn’t be any. Without looking back, she stormed off in the direction of the modern elevator. Almost immediately she could hear Logan falling in behind her.
Great, she thought to herself.
Six
The room was extremely small.
That part Kara could live with. Small was something to be expected from a hotel built in the late 1890’s. What she couldn’t live with however, was the fact that the room had only a single bed.
“Looks like you’re on the couch,” she told Logan.
Her companion frowned down at the tiny piece of furniture. “That’s not a couch. That’s a loveseat.”
“Well then start loving it.”
The bathroom was no better. A small pedestal sink and an old mirror made up half the amenities. The other half was a tiny shower stall and vintage toilet, the kind where the basin was mounted high up on the wall. A greasy-looking pull-chain dangled beneath it.
The place was quaint. Most people would agree it had charm.
She hated it anyway.
Kara unzipped a tiny travel bag and began brushing her teeth vigorously.
“You sure this place is haunted?” Logan called in to her. “I mean, I could think of much better places to be spending my afterlife.”
“Oh yeah, like where?”
“Like the Plaza. Or the Four Seasons. Or—”
“You read the file,” she said, spitting into the sink. “You tell me your theory on why this place has so much paranormal activity.”
Kara cocked an ear, but Logan went silent. For once it was disappointing. After spending so much time with the file, Kara was hoping he’d actually had an idea. She really didn’t want to read the file herself.
When she re-emerged from the bathroom, she stopped instantly short. Logan was standing at the window, one arm up, looking out into the raging snowstorm. He’d already changed. And by ‘changed’, he’d stripped down to nothing but a pair of loose-fitting boxer shorts.
Jesus Christ.
He was every bit as dashing as she remembered him. Broad, well-defined shoulders. Strong, corded arms. And his chest… his chest was bare and beautiful. Memories came flooding back to her, completely unbidden. Memories of sleeping on that chest. Of feeling it crushed against her…
“Y—You’re sleeping like that?”
Kara regretted the words immediately.
“Of course,” he replied. “How else would I sleep?” Logan examined her expression, and his mouth stretched into a knowing smile. “Besides, you’ve slept with me dozens of times. You know what I like to sleep in—”
“Alright, alright.”
“Besides,” he said, turning back to the window. “This room’s like a million degrees.”
That much was true. Kara was amazed at how much heat the old cast iron radiator in the corner of room 207 was giving off. She didn’t see a thermostat either. Nor had she expected one.
“Want me to open the window?”
“No,” Kara said. “Fuck the window.”
Normally she’d sleep in her panties and a T-shirt. In this case, she’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants for good measure. Kara sank to the bed, ass-first. The mattress was old but firm, the way she liked it.
“Uh… that bed is kinda big,” Logan hinted. “You sure we can’t—”
“NO.”
It was hot. Way too hot to sleep.
This is bullshit, thought Kara. She’d abandoned the sweatpants long ago. For the last half hour she’d been staring up at the ceiling, wondering when the sun would come up. It was still very dark outside. She still had a few hours, but not many. And without any sleep…
She regretted telling Logan not to open the window. Right now she’d do just about anything for some fresh air. She debated calling out to him, asking him if he was asleep yet. But she also didn’t want to deal with him any more than was necessary.
You’re being an asshole again, she told herself. Or you’re being lazy. Just get up and—
A cool rush of wind tore through the room. Which was stranger than anything, because the window — and the door — were both securely closed.
“Logan?”
Somewhere in the shadows, her companion stirred. Or at least she thought he stirred…
No.
A shiver ripped down Kara’s spine. Her eyes locked on a sudden swirl of darkness at the foot of her bed. There was life there now. Motion.
That’s not Logan.
The swirling sped up and slowed down. Moving in some sort of cycle.
It’s not there, she told herself. It’s only a vision.
A ‘vision’… that’s what Kara had always called it anyway. Xiomara would reprimand for the term, because her precognitive episodes weren’t really visions at all. They were more recordings than anything else. Still…
This wasn’t one of her visions. Kara was almost certain of it. For one, the edges were all wrong. Plus, and maybe she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it just didn’t feel like one…
“Logan!” she whispered.
She heard him groan. As Kara looked on, the pulsing shadows coalesced into a shapeless, formless mass. It grew darker in color, then lighter again. And each time it did it, it became more opaque. More… substantial.
“LOGAN!”
Now he actually did stir. From the corner of her eye, she saw him uncoil himself from the tiny loveseat.
“Huh?”
“Do you see that?”
He stretched. Rubbed at his eyes. “What?”
“That!”
She pointed to the foot of the bed, where the unmistakable form a woman now stood. Or rather, she floated. Her form seemed wispy, even ethereal, but not entirely. It was difficult to make out the details, but it appeared she wore a long flowing dress…
“Do you see her?” Kara hissed. She was desperate for confirmation. Determined to know whether what she was seeing was an actual apparition, or if she were only experiencing one of her precognitive episodes. “Tell me you see her!”
Logan had both feet on the floor now. He was staring upward, exactly to the spot where the woman hovered. Her hands moved to her face, and she began sobbing. Weeping.
“Yeah,” Logan confirmed. His voice was strong now, and soberingly awake. “I see her too.”
Seven
The apparition floating before them wasn’t just crying, it was wailing. The sound coming out of its mouth — if that’s what it was — was absolutely horrible.
“Hello?” Kara shouted out to it. The noise was grating now. Nails on a chalkboard. “Hey!”
The ghost-woman still ignored her. Her wailing grew louder, into a high-pitched screech.
“Make her shut up!” Logan cried.
“I can’t!”
The specter continued screaming at a frequency that vibrated deep within Kara’s chest, like a cold hand closing over her heart. She found herself covering her ears. It did no good at all.
“Who are you?”
At that the woman actually turned. Her chin tilted downward, and all of a sudden Kara was face to face with her.
Her eyes were wrong. That was the first thing she noticed.
Something’s wrong with the way she—
The woman screamed once more, this time the loudest of all. The sound sent a spike of terror through Kara’s soul.
“STOP IT!”
There were tears streaming down the apparition’s cheeks — tears that were almost mirrored by the abject fear in Kara’s eyes. Then, strangely, the woman turned and stomped off. She moved with a halting, shuddering gait that was definitely not of this world.
At the other end of the room, the ghost-woman passed straight through the wall.
Silence settled in again, almost like it had never been broken. There was a strange ringing in Kara’s ears.
“You got that, right?” she asked when she c
ould finally breathe again. “Tell me you got that.”
Logan shook his head slowly back and forth. “Sorry, no. My phone’s still charging. Plugged into the bathroom outlet.”
SHIT.
Kara drew her legs against her chest. She was suddenly very cold. Logan approached her cautiously. When she didn’t protest, he settled onto the bed beside her.
“You okay?”
“No.” Kara looked down at her bare legs. She was shaking all over. “Not even a little bit.”
Gently he folded his arms around her. She didn’t stop him. They felt incredibly good right now… warm and strong. The skin on skin contact made her feel safe. Protected.
“Any idea what the fuck that was about?”
Kara let out a short, nervous laugh. “None.”
“You didn’t owe that bitch money or anything? Because the way she looked at you. Screamed at you…”
She laughed softly. It felt good to laugh. Even in Logan’s arms.
Especially in Logan’s arms…
He held her for several minutes, until she stopped shaking, then got up and crossed the room. Kara looked on curiously as Logan began examining the opposite wall.
“What are you—”
“This is where she passed through, right?”
Kara shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Close enough.”
Using the rim of his thumbnail, Logan picked at the top edge of the hideous wallpaper. It came away without much of a fight. Slowly, carefully, he began peeling it backward, toward himself.
The faded image of what was once a door frame appeared beneath it.
“Damn,” Kara swore. “Good work.”
Logan smoothed away the glue and plaster, then blew away the dust. The outline became much more distinct.
“Where do you think it leads?” Kara asked.
“More like where it did lead,” he offered. “It’s blocked off now.”
He rolled the paper back up and pinned the edge beneath the molding. It still looked like shit, but could pass for undamaged at a quick glance.
“Tomorrow,” he said, dusting his hands off. “Lots of stuff gets answered.”
Kara’s eyes crawled slowly over his body. She couldn’t help it. A thin sheen of sweat lent extra definition to Logan’s arms, chest, and torso. His stomach, she was glad to see, was still flat and taut. Maybe not as tight as it had been six years ago, but his abdominals still rippled powerfully, just beneath the skin.
She watched him settle back into the loveseat. It was almost funny watching him try to cram his six-foot-two frame between the tiny couch’s ancient wooden arms.
“Okay, open that window,” said Kara. “Just a crack.”
Logan jumped back to his feet, his expression one of complete relief. His arms flexed tightly, biceps and triceps, as he undid the latch and lifted the creaky old window frame.
“And get into bed with me,” she added at last. Logan’s eyes went wide with disbelief.
“I’ll be damned if I’m sleeping alone with that ghost roaming around.”
Eight
The room cooled down quickly. Kara found herself beneath the covers, alongside Logan. At first they slept separately, back to back. But the first time he flipped over, she found herself spooning into him, seeking warmth.
This is a bad idea, the little voice in her head told her. You’re being stupid…
She kept telling herself she was still shaken. That she needed the comfort, the human contact. But it was more than that. Much more.
Kara flipped too. She was facing him now, nose to nose. His eyes were wide open.
“Why?” she asked simply.
The question lingered. It hung unanswered between them in the nighttime silence. Logan only stared back at her impassively. She studied his face, his lips…
“Why what?”
“You know what.”
He shrugged. “We were young. It was young love.”
“I was young,” she corrected him. “You took advantage.”
“You weren’t doing any complaining,” said Logan. “And if I recall, you always pushed harder than me.”
“I was nineteen. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.”
He laughed. “Think any of us do?”
They were even closer now. Somehow during the conversation, one or both of them had snuggled in.
“Alright, maybe I understand why,” she admitted, dropping her gaze. “But the way it ended—”
He leaned in and kissed her. It was quick. Bold. But not entirely unexpected.
Kara’s mind spun, dizzily. She was lost between places. Between choices.
“I—I just—”
His lips pressed hard, churning insistently against her own. She could smell him, taste him. She could remember him. And then suddenly… suddenly Kara was kissing him back. She did it hungrily. Thirstily. Without reservation.
Dumb dumb dumb!
She pushed — no shoved aside the voice in her head. The voice no longer mattered. All that mattered was Logan’s two strong arms, sliding around her. Keeping her safe in the warmth and security of the world beneath their blankets.
Her lips parted slightly, and his tongue entered her mouth. It slid sexily against her own. Kara allowed her body to relax, her brain flooding with the pure, familiar pleasure of being crushed against her former lover. Everything came rushing back, all at once. The memories of being together. Of Logan on top of her. In her…
All of it was glorious.
“Tell me you want me,” he whispered, breaking the kiss.
She hesitated, but only for a second.
“Maybe.”
He laughed, but his eyes remained serious. “Say it.”
Kara sighed, squirming a bit in his arms before finally going limp. She surrendered, but only because she wanted to.
“Okay, I want you.”
It was true. Oh God, was it true…
“Good.”
He rolled her onto her back, slipping one hand beneath her T-shirt. Kara arched her back and let him. As his warm palm slid over the naked curve of her breast, she moaned.
“I’ve missed you…”
For years, they were the three simple words she’d wanted to hear. She craved them. Dreamed about them.
Right now they actually scared her.
“I… I missed you too.”
She couldn’t believe it. It was like someone had taken over her body and actually spoken for her. Logan’s mouth closed on hers again, kissing her over and over until she was delirious. Her shirt was pulled up, exposing her breasts. His lips kissed their way down her neck, her shoulder…
“Ohhh…”
Kara gasped as Logan’s mouth closed over her nipple. His stubble tickled her breast. She pulled him in anyway.
“Oh fuck…”
A palm slid downward, over the flat expanse of her belly. Instinctively, Kara spread her legs for him. She began to tremble as his hand tugged her panties to one side. He rubbed her gently, touching her in all the same places he used to. Moving ever downward…
Oh my God…
Logan’s tongue circled Kara’s areola as he slipped two thick fingers inside her. He swirled them around. Dragged them gently through the shallows of her pussy…
“Fuck me…”
If he heard her plea, he completely ignored her. Kara reached out and yanked his boxers down instead. Bending one knee, she kicked her foot outward to push them down his legs and straight off. Logan chuckled into her breast.
“You’re still good at that?”
Kara’s hand closed over his warm, thick cock.
“I’m still good at lots of things.”
Slowly she began to stroke him. It felt reassuringly good. Logan was already three-quarters of the way hard, and had moved on to her other breast. She decided to go down on him. It was something, during their brief time together, Kara had learned she especially loved.
And of course, so did he.
She slid down, between his legs. He sucked a
ir in through clenched teeth as she closed her mouth over the head, gyrating as her lips slid down along the length of his shaft.
“Wow… oh wow…”
Up and down she went, getting it slick and wet. Pumping it at the base with one clenched fist.
Is this what you wanted?
She was under the covers now, burrowed snugly within the warmth and darkness. Logan’s manhood filled her mouth nicely, pushing its way into the back of her throat. He tasted musky, salty, sweet. Kara sucked harder, and a gob of his sticky pre-come leaked onto the flat of her tongue.
“You have to stop.” The words were muffled, but clear enough. “You’re gonna make me come…”
Not one to be told what to do, Kara continued. While still blowing him, she started massaging his balls with her free hand. They felt heavy and swollen in her palm. Exactly as she remembered them.
“Kara.”
The tone was stern now. A warning.
“Kara…”
She let her hand drop, allowing the tips of her fingernails to trace lightly along the sensitive line of his scrotum. It was a technique that used to tickle him. Hell, it used to tickle someone. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure which—
“FUUUUUCK!”
Logan exploded into her mouth, shooting jet after jet of hot come straight down Kara’s throat. She felt strangely powerful, gripping his cock while he did it, feeling it go off like a firework in her hand. She had to swallow twice in rapid succession, and then a third time when he was just about done. All the while, she kept her lips clamped tightly around his pulsating shaft.
“Jesus, Kara…”
She cleaned him fully when she was done, licking her way up and down along the length of his shaft. A minute went by. Two minutes. Kara was savoring it. Remembering it…
“Get up here.”
He pulled her upward, as easily as if she were nothing. As Kara’s head re-emerged into the world above the blankets, she sucked in several big gulps of sweet, deliciously cool air.
Logan flipped her onto her back again. He looked down at her, all glassy-eyed and dreamy.
