Ghost of a Chance

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Ghost of a Chance Page 3

by Kris T. Bethke


  Emily considered him and then took off across the ground. While Blake watched she climbed up the long ladder, took an infinitely long time adjusting herself, and slid down. She gave a shout of joyous laughter as she zoomed down, and Blake grinned.

  As soon as Emily landed, she ran around to the ladder again. Blake kept an eye on her as he molded his sand into something resembling a castle. Again and again, Emily slid down, laughing every time. Blake called encouragement to her to let her know she was doing a good job.

  Eventually she got tired of the slide. Even as a spirit, she had the attention span of a three-year-old. Blake was relieved when she came over to inspect his sandcastle. Even more so when she sat down in front of him.

  “Want to help?”

  “Yes,” she shouted. She immediately scooped sand into her chubby hands and plopped it on top of the flat cube he’d created. Silently Blake shaped one of the new mounds into a turret, and Emily clumsily copied his motions. Her little face was screwed up in concentration, and Blake grinned.

  He let that go on for a few minutes and then faked a yawn. “Man, I’m getting tired.”

  Emily blinked up at him and nodded.

  It was exactly what Blake wanted. If she was finally comfortable with him, she’d let him lead her. He brushed off his hands, and when he rolled to his knees, Emily stood up and looked at him expectantly.

  He held out his hand again, and she slipped her tiny hand into his. Blake would have sighed in relief if he had any breath to do it. Instead he carefully stood and walked toward that patch of light. Emily went with him, but as they got closer to the light, she dragged her feet.

  Blake should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

  “Okay, Emily,” he said gently as he slowed down but didn’t stop. “I know it’s a little weird looking, right?”

  She nodded and whispered, “Scawy.”

  “Yeah.” Blake nodded. “I get that. But you know what? I promise you, it’s nice there. Warm and comfy. You’ll be happy, and then your mommy and daddy will come along, and they’ll be so happy to see you. They love you a lot!”

  Emily gave him a tiny smile and a quick bob of her head. She needed a little nudging, but after a tentative step and then another, she crossed through the light and was gone.

  Blake relaxed. It was easier than he expected, and it was a relief the little girl was finally on her way. No more lingering in the in between. That was no place for any spirit, let alone a child.

  But the job was done, and it was time for him to head back to the mortal plane. Blake felt the tension again as he made his way to headquarters. This was it. When he got back, Derek would see what a hot mess he was, and then he’d ask for reassignment. Even knowing Derek had the gene, Blake couldn’t see how a man like him would want to deal with Blake in the state he was in when he came back. No amount of training could prepare an anchor for Blake’s reaction.

  Shona was in her office, just as Blake knew she would be. It was always easy for him to find her. She was a high-level medium, and her energy called to spirits. Perhaps their connection outside of the job helped as well. They were the same kind of person, with a slightly morbid sense of humor and a love of science fiction movies. They always sought each other out at work functions and occasionally hit up the movies or a late dinner together. And she never made him feel like he was interrupting when he showed up in her space, ready to come back. Technically he could let any of the mediums know, but there were a few who were harder to communicate with.

  She was typing furiously on her laptop, so in order to catch her attention, he pushed her coffee cup closer to her. It took her a moment, but she looked up. She couldn’t actually see him, but she could feel him, and when she concentrated on him, he could usually get visuals or a few words across.

  “Blake? That you?”

  He couldn’t talk to her in the traditional sense, though they’d been working toward that. He just didn’t have enough power as a spirit to make it work. But they’d been practicing, and he was hopeful that one day he’d be able to have a conversation with her instead of having to resort to clues.

  Of course, he hated her hideous paperweight and never lost an opportunity to tease her about it. It was a glass orb, and the colors that swirled through it mixed in the most unpleasant ways. He was pretty sure she’d made it herself, as she once mentioned taking a glassblowing class.

  Blake grabbed the paperweight and slid it to the very edge of her desk, stopping when it was just about to go over. Shona squinted her dark eyes, though her gaze was focused on the back wall and not on him.

  “It’s you. You freaking brat.” Her grumble was all good nature, and he laughed. He thought she must have heard it, because she grinned.

  “Ready to come back?” She was already reaching for her phone.

  Blake pushed the paperweight back onto the desk and shoved a pile of papers over, just to be the brat Shona had accused him of being. She laughed then, promising retribution of some sort, even as she hit the preprogrammed button on her phone.

  “King? He’s ready. You can pull him back now.”

  Blake left Shona’s office quickly and escaped back to the rolling fog he used when he entered the spirit realm. He braced himself mentally for the sensation of being sucked back into his body. He hated that part most of all. Hated. It was like throwing up. Backward. Through your own nose.

  But it was awful.

  Chapter Four

  DEREK Scott knew from a young age that he was different. His siblings, all seven of them, were focused on academics and sports, on being the best they could possibly be. Derek didn’t care about any of that. He did fine in school, and the rest was not something he worried about. All he wanted was to take care of everyone around him, to make sure they were happy and safe and fed. His sisters teased, and his brothers ignored him, but even that didn’t faze Derek because he knew they relied on him for all the little things, and he was happy and content to provide them.

  When his high school girlfriend brought up the idea that perhaps he was destined for greater things, he dismissed her. No one in his family had the anchor gene, as far as he knew, so she had to be imagining things, attributing his personality to something genetic as opposed to just how he liked to be. But when his incredibly smart premed college boyfriend suggested the same thing, Derek gave it a second thought… and a third, fourth, and fifth thought. By the time he graduated from college, he’d made the decision to apply to Requiem Inc. They did the genetic testing, and Derek himself was most surprised to find out he carried the gene.

  He’d been fast-tracked at that point, shipped off to the anchor-training facility at the Albuquerque office, where he spent the next two years working his butt off.

  When Derek completed his training, he was offered several positions right off the bat. He was still considering his options when his mentor called and told him about Blake. His story pulled at Derek’s heartstrings. Then he spoke over the phone with Michael King, traveled to the east coast, and settled in a rural town in upstate New York. Blake needed him, and Derek would be happy to care for him.

  But all the training and learning, all the careful consideration and observing he’d done had not prepared him to look down at his ghostwalker with a three foot blade sticking out of his chest.

  He’d seen it dozens of times during his mentoring process and had even assisted established anchors to care for their ghostwalkers. But this was a whole other level. King drove that sword into Blake’s chest, and when Blake’s grip slackened and he died right in front of him, all Derek could do was stare.

  “You do know what to do, right?” King’s voice shocked him out of his trance, and Derek jerked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  King studied him for a moment—and wasn’t having a telepath as a boss kind of a mind-fuck?—and then he tipped his chin toward the cabinets behind Derek. “Supplies are in the top.”

  It took Derek a second to realize what King meant, but then he moved and found what he
needed. With cleanser and soft towels, he gently wiped away all the blood that had seeped out of the chest wound and the drops off Blake’s lips and chin. He was careful and methodical and made sure he didn’t miss a thing. He couldn’t get Blake’s back or the chair yet, but he’d do that once Blake was resting in the bed. Derek tossed the soiled towel into the bin by the door for the cleaning service to pick up at the end of the day.

  He left the supplies on the counter where he could get to them again. But then he was at a loss. Everyone had assured him he’d get to know his ghostwalker thoroughly before they went on a job, so he would know exactly what Blake would need before, during, and after. But that hadn’t happened. Derek felt lost and adrift. How was he supposed to care for Blake if he didn’t know what he needed? Instinct and hardwiring only took him so far.

  “He needed to know you were going to stick by him.”

  Derek blinked up at King. “What?”

  “That’s the only reason I let this happen before you two sequestered. Blake is….” King leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “He finds it hard to trust. His reactions are… extreme by most standards, and I knew this would be hard for him. He was convinced you’d run, even if you knew what would happen beforehand. And the only way he’d be able to trust you is to see you not do that.”

  Derek let that sink in. “Makes sense, I guess.”

  “You’ll learn it makes a lot of sense. But I want you to know that’s the only reason I let this happen. Because he needed to see you would help him. And you needed to know you could. Okay?”

  “Yes.” Derek chanced a small smile. “Thanks, I think.”

  King graced him with a smug grin. “Look. I don’t read my operatives unless I have to, but it certainly comes in handy. You’re new and untried, but you’ve really been doing this all your life. Trust in yourself, and you’ll know what he needs. The more you work together, the easier it’ll get. You two were made to be a team. It’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you.” That was exactly what Derek needed to hear. Nerves he hadn’t given names to settled in his stomach, and he leaned forward and took in Blake’s still form. Despite the sword he seemed at peace. His beautiful features were smooth and worry free. Derek fought the urge to reach out and trace from his perfectly shaped auburn brow, down his cheek, to his delicate jaw. Blake was really just so pretty, and in another time and place, Derek would have asked for his number.

  He quickly put a lid on those thoughts and hoped King hadn’t picked up on them. Fraternizing, while not against the rules, was frowned upon. It was never a good idea to get involved with a coworker, especially in their situation, when they had to rely on each other so closely. Besides, Derek didn’t think a man like Blake would be interested in him. So instead of acting on those urges, he took Blake’s limp hand in his own. It was cool to the touch. He’d have to remember to turn up the heat in the office before their next case. Even knowing Blake couldn’t feel the cold, Derek wanted him to be comfortable when he came back to himself.

  Derek couldn’t imagine that dying repeatedly was any kind of fun, which was why he had so much respect for Blake in the first place.

  A tonal beep sounded from the little comm on King’s belt, and when he pushed the button to answer, a sweet, melodic female voice came through loud and clear.

  “King? He’s ready. You can pull him back now.”

  “Thanks, Shona.” King stepped forward and grasped the hilt of the sword. He shot a sideways glance at Derek. “Ready?”

  It was sooner than Derek anticipated, but he was ready and moved quickly. He grabbed two thick pads, placed one on Blake’s stomach, and kept the other in his hand as he slid it under Blake’s body. Being careful to keep his fingers away from the sharp blade, he changed his stance so he was more balanced, and then nodded at King.

  With a sharp tug, King slid the sword from Blake’s chest at a smooth and steady pace. As soon as it was free, Derek got a pad in place to stanch the bleeding at Blake’s back. Then he pressed down hard on Blake’s chest with the other so Blake didn’t lose too much blood. Several minutes passed in silence, and both men watched Blake. Nothing happened, and Derek started to panic, but he didn’t let up on the pressure.

  The only thing that kept Derek from truly freaking out was King’s placid demeanor. Was it supposed to take this long? Though Derek had witnessed it numerous times before, the seconds stretched into eternities as he waited for Blake to breathe.

  Another minute and then Blake’s eyes popped open as he drew in a deep, ragged lungful of air. He coughed, and his eyes searched wildly and landed on Derek’s. They locked gazes, and Derek gave him a soft smile to ease the terror he could see on Blake’s face.

  Blake immediately burst into tears.

  Huge, body-shaking sobs wracked his frame as a veritable waterfall poured from his eyes. He trembled violently and tried to curl in on himself, and only Derek’s hand on his chest kept him from doing it. Derek’s heart broke. Had Blake forgotten it would be Derek’s face he saw when he woke up? How terrible to come back to life and see a stranger.

  King made a gesture that said, “See? This is what he was worried about.” Derek nodded his understanding, and with some effort, turned Blake gently onto his side so he was facing away from Derek. Blake immediately curled up as much as the chair allowed, but his sobbing continued and wrenched Derek’s heart.

  “I’m f-f-fine,” Blake forced out as he sobbed all the harder, chest heaving with each breath.

  “Yeah, you are.” Derek leaned down and checked the wounds. They were already closed angry pink lines in his skin. He knew they’d fade more fully over the next day or two, depending on how quickly Blake normally healed. He put his lips right to Blake’s ear to make sure he heard him clearly. “You’re gonna be just fine, B. I’m gonna take care of you. That’s why I’m here, right? It’s going to be fine.”

  Blake nodded with a jerky motion of his head, but his crying didn’t ease. For a moment Derek didn’t know what to do, but he knew he needed to do something. With all the care in the world, and thanking whatever deity he needed to for his strength, he picked up the smaller man and carried him the four feet to the bed. He wanted to crawl in with Blake, to hold him tightly and comfort him, but he didn’t know how well that would be received. Instead he knelt down beside him, curled his big body over Blake’s, hugged him, and rubbed a soothing hand in Blake’s hair.

  Derek glanced over his shoulder at King, who offered him a half smile. “When he’s ready, you can take him upstairs to the suites. You’ll be in number four, and you have at least three uninterrupted days to work yourselves out.”

  Derek thanked him and turned back to Blake. He barely registered King leaving. Blake was his only concern right then, soothing the hurt and fear in him, and making him comfortable again. Though Blake’s extreme reaction wasn’t what he expected, Derek was an expert at soothing fear and hurt. He’d been doing it all his life, in one way or another. And since Blake didn’t seem averse to his touch, Derek kept it up, rubbing gently and holding him close. He wanted to get closer, actually, but he didn’t dare.

  After a while Derek’s ministrations worked. Or perhaps Blake was just cried out. Either way, his sobs eased, and then the crying stopped altogether. Derek straightened without pulling away entirely. He fought the urge to kiss Blake’s sweaty temple, but didn’t stop himself from smoothing the hair back from Blake’s forehead. Blake started to shiver, so Derek helped maneuver him under the sheet and comforter and pulled them up to his chest.

  “You all right?” He kept his voice low and calm. “Want something to drink?”

  Blake sniffed and lifted a hand to wipe at his face. At least his limbs were working again. “Okay,” he whispered.

  Derek stood slowly, crossed the room to the dorm fridge, and pulled out bottles of electrolyte-laden water. He wet a cloth, and when he turned, he saw Blake had rolled onto his back and was staring at him. Derek smiled gently and walked back.
r />   Blake grimaced when he tried to sit up, and Derek was quick to help. He slipped an arm underneath his shoulders and lifted him. Then he held the bottle to his mouth so he could drink. After a few deep swallows, Blake pulled back and Derek eased him down.

  He handed over the cloth, and Blake’s hand shook as he took it.

  “Can I get you anything else? How are you feeling?”

  Blake wouldn’t look him in the eye, and Derek barely heard the murmured “Hurts.”

  “Yeah, I bet it does. I can get you a painkiller. Want a pill or a shot?”

  Blake closed his eyes, swallowed thickly, and winced as he moved the barest amount. “Shot.”

  “You got it.” Derek went back to the cupboard where he’d seen the med kit. He knew he’d find premeasured doses of the right medicine for Blake. They were designed to be given without harm within the first thirty to sixty minutes postwalk. He pulled out one of the hypos, grabbed an alcohol pad, and knelt by Blake’s side. Blake averted his gaze.

  Giving shots was one of the things Derek had learned in his training, so he was quick and efficient as he delivered the injection. He knew how to do it with the least amount of pain and no bruising. Within a few seconds, the tension in Blake’s body eased. After another minute or two, the shivering stopped as well. Derek made sure he had some more to drink, and this time Blake watched him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  “When you’re ready, we’ll head upstairs. Okay?” Derek lifted a hand, but thought better of touching Blake when he was fully aware. He let it drop back to his lap.

  “It’ll take a while for me to be steady on my feet.” Blake’s voice was stronger, but not yet quite where it should be.

  Derek gave him a smile. “Don’t worry about that. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

  Blake studied him, staring, and Derek let him look. He hoped Blake would see whatever he needed to see. Eventually Blake let out a sigh, and his eyes drifted closed. After a few moments, Derek made to move, but Blake reached out from under the blanket and grabbed his hand. Derek immediately grasped it and was pleased to find it once again at body temperature.

 

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