Ghost of a Chance

by Kris T. Bethke

  Blake’s tension eased further, and he sighed. “Thanks, Derek.”

  Derek waited until Blake was well and truly asleep. Then he pulled back the covers just enough to give Blake a once-over. It was a challenge not to notice Blake’s perfectly muscled chest and the cut of his abs as he breathed slowly and evenly. His skin was smooth and supple and so pale Derek could see the blue of his veins. Which was fitting, Derek mused, considering Blake’s nearly red hair and cerulean eyes.

  But he wasn’t supposed to be admiring his partner’s beauty. Refocused, Derek checked for lasting injury. The wound on his chest was already less pink than it had been a half hour before. He carefully turned Blake just enough to peer at his back, and though there were a few dark splotches where the blood had pooled as he’d been lying dead in the chair, the wound there looked good too. Derek laid him back down just as a shiver wracked Blake’s frame. Derek quickly covered him back up.

  He checked to make sure Blake was resting comfortably and left him to sleep. He jacked up the temperature in the room a few notches, and even though he was a little overwarm, he knew Blake needed the extra warmth. That done, he set about cleaning up the chair and disposing of the towels and the used syringe in their appropriate biohazard containers.

  Derek checked on Blake again, but he was still sleeping, so he settled himself in the uncomfortable chair and opened the notes app on his phone. He hadn’t been issued a tablet yet, but he knew he’d have that soon. In the meantime he needed to make notes so he could file his report. Each case was documented from both the anchor’s and the ghostwalker’s perspective. Blake’s report would be about what he had seen and done on the spirit plane. Derek’s was about Blake’s care as he lay in the chair and the aftereffects.

  At an hour postwalk, Derek checked Blake’s vitals. Everything should be in normal range by then, and it appeared that was the case. Unless, of course, Blake’s regular vitals were unusual. Derek wished he’d had more time with Blake before going in, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Derek would just have to make a note to get Blake’s medical record so he knew what he was looking for in the future.

  Satisfied Blake was fine physically, Derek settled in to wait. There was nothing to do until Blake woke up and they moved upstairs. Once they got there, Derek could find out what made Blake tick and start building their relationship. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. Until then he would watch over his charge.

  It was all he wanted to do anyway.

  Chapter Five

  DEREK heard the soft knock on the door and glanced at Blake to make sure he was still sleeping peacefully before he rose to answer it. Julie stood on the other side holding his duffel bag and a tablet in a plain black case and wearing a sweet smile. She didn’t try to step inside, which was a relief. Derek was feeling protective, and he didn’t want anyone in their space while Blake was out of it.

  “I got your bag from the conference room,” Julie said quietly as she handed it over. She passed the tablet over next. Derek took both items. “IT has finally got this set up for you. Apparently they’re short staffed today, which is why we didn’t have it ready when you got here. Your biometrics have already been recorded, so all you have to do is press your thumb to the home button, and it’ll unlock. From there you can set a PIN or password if you choose, but your fingerprint will work as well.”

  “Thank you.” He kept his voice as quiet as he could.

  “You’re welcome.” Her smile brightened a fraction as she took a step back. “Mr. King has you set up in suite four upstairs. It’s all ready for you once you get up there. Welcome aboard, Mr. Scott. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.” She gestured to the tablet. “There’s an app that allows you to send direct requests that will be routed to the right department, as well as a messenger app that has all the necessary contacts.”

  “That’s great. Thanks again.”

  Julie gave him a tiny wave and set off back down the hall. Derek stared after her for only a second and then shut the door and turned back to his ghostwalker. Blake was awake, his big blue eyes unfocused and blinking. Derek quickly set his handful down.

  “Hey,” he whispered as he crossed the floor. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “You didn’t,” Blake croaked. He cleared his throat and sat up a little, and Derek handed him the bottle of water he’d set beside the bed. Blake took a deep drink, and Derek was glad to see his hands didn’t shake. “At least I don’t think you did.”

  Derek nodded. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I had a sword shoved through my chest.” Blake grimaced, but Derek could see the hint of amusement around his eyes. “I’m okay. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just need some more rest.”

  “When you’re ready, we can head upstairs. Take your time. There’s no rush.” Derek knew he was repeating himself, but he had the distinct feeling Blake hadn’t been entirely with it to really hear him.

  Blake stared as though Derek had grown a second head. Concern coalesced in Derek’s stomach, and he took a chance by perching on the edge of the bed. He wanted to reach out and touch Blake, to soothe him somehow, but he managed to rein in that instinct. Blake didn’t react. He just kept staring.

  “What?”

  “You’re still here.”

  He said it with such surprise that Derek couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. “Yeah. I’m still here. I told you I would be. Hell, King told you I would be. Did you really think I would request reassignment just because of your reactions?”

  Blake was silent for a long moment, and he nodded. “No, I didn’t think… I mean, I did think… but only, well, it sort of made sense that you would.”

  Derek thought maybe he understood. “Or was it that you were hoping I would?”

  Blake scowled, but he didn’t refute it. Derek was actually surprised by his blunt honesty when he finally responded, “Kinda, yeah.”

  Derek grinned and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not going anywhere.” He stood up and gestured to the bottle in Blake’s hand. “Finish that, and once you’re up to it, we’ll move upstairs.” He walked across the room to retrieve Blake’s shirt and shoes.

  “How are you real?” Blake’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Derek thought he wasn’t meant to hear it. But the room was only so big, and he didn’t need any extra ability to hear a mumble from six feet away.

  “I don’t know what you’re used to,” Derek said as he helped Blake pull on his shirt when he seemed to be moving sluggishly. “I expect I’ll learn that as we get to know each other over the next few days. But let me assure you, gene or not, I like taking care of people. I really like taking care of people who need it. And you, B? You need it.”

  “I don’t.” Blake’s scowl was back. He sat up, pushed the blankets down, and swung his socked feet over the edge of the mattress. “I’m fine.”

  “Honey, you can barely move right now. Someone violently shoved a sword through your chest, and you spent a good hour dead in a chair. So, yeah. You do need it. Let me do it, all right?”

  For a long time, Blake didn’t say anything. Derek was happy to wait him out. One of the things he’d been gifted with was patience. Or maybe that was a byproduct of having seven siblings. Either way Derek had a lot of it, and it took him a long time to get frustrated. While he waited for Blake to speak, he knelt at Blake’s feet and put on his shoes. Blake made a halfhearted attempt to pull away, but it was clear his strength wasn’t entirely back, and after a moment’s struggle, he gave up. Derek hid his grin as he tied the boots.

  “So what did you think of your first ghostwalk?”

  Oh. They were changing subjects. Derek didn’t react, and he understood a defense mechanism when he saw it. Eventually he’d break through those barriers. But that would take time and trust.

  “I’ve seen them before, of course. Even assisted anchors as they worked with their ghostwalkers. It was all part of my training.” Derek stoo
d and held out a hand. “It was different though, being yours. That whole sword thing is way more… startling than I expected. Being so up close and personal.”

  Blake nodded and stood, ignoring Derek’s offer of help. He wobbled a little, and Derek steadied him with a hand on his biceps, but Blake gently nudged him away as soon as he was solid. “It’s actually the best and most humane way to kill us and keep us dead. Quickest too. I don’t relish the idea of being suffocated to death, you know?”

  “I expect not.” Derek snorted out a small laugh because Blake’s slightly teasing tone seemed to request it. Derek had learned all of that in his training. Two years was a long time to be in a preparatory program. But no amount of learning, assisting, and studying prepared him for exactly how intense it was to have his very own ghostwalker. “You ready?”

  Blake nodded and made his way across the room. His gait was a little unsteady, but Derek didn’t think he was in any danger of falling. Blake picked up his tablet and retrieved his phone from where he’d set it down earlier. After a cursory glance around, Blake frowned.

  “Missing something?”

  “I guess?” Blake’s gaze swept the room again. “Can you get my bag out of the closet? And is there a suitcase in there? I… don’t remember bringing it in.”

  Derek checked the closet and found the messenger bag, but nothing else. “Nothing in here. Did you maybe leave it in the car? Want me to run down and check?”

  Blake frowned for a second and then sighed and shook his head. “My morning was shit, and I think, along with everything else that went wrong, I left the suitcase in the hall at home. Crap.”

  Derek paused. “Do you want me to take you home to grab it before we head upstairs?”

  “No.” Another deep sigh. “I’ll ask Sam to get it and bring it in.”

  “Sam?” Derek fought a weird sense of jealousy that surged through him at the mention of another man’s name. How weird was that? He had nothing to be jealous over.

  “My brother. He’s an operative too. Because, well, it’s genetic right?” Blake shook his head again, and his auburn hair flopped over his forehead. “I’ll shoot him a text. He might be on a job, but even if he is, he bounces back pretty fast. I can get through the night at the very least, and he’ll bring it to me in the morning. Ready to go?”

  “Sure,” Derek agreed as he stepped to the door and pulled it open. He held it as Blake walked slowly forward, glancing up from his phone every few steps while he texted. By the time he reached the door, he was done, and he slid the phone back in his pocket.

  They were silent as they walked down the hall to the elevators, and as they rode up, Derek tried not to fidget. He wasn’t used to this level of quiet. Everyone in his life was a talker, and Derek was no exception. But Blake seemed preoccupied, and since they would be spending the next three days in each other’s space, Derek felt it was best to leave Blake to his thoughts.

  When the door slid open on the tenth floor, Derek stepped out first and, with a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, made sure Blake was following. He was, though his feet dragged. Derek didn’t know if that was because of what he’d just been through or because of where they were heading. Derek vowed he’d figure it out as he got to know Blake better.

  Number four was the second door on the left, and Derek pushed it open. The suite was spacious—a large open common area with a table and small kitchen to the left, a comfy looking seating area in the middle, and several rooms off to the right. Derek could see a bathroom and one bedroom, and he surmised the other open door was another bedroom. Similar suites were in every Requiem headquarters throughout the country. It was a place for a new pair to sequester—a safe and neutral space for partners to get to know one another. But it also functioned as emergency quarters when needed.

  Derek set his duffel on the floor and gently placed Blake’s bag on one of the overstuffed chairs. A glance at his watch showed him it was past lunchtime, and his stomach rumbled as though to confirm it. Glancing at Blake, Derek saw the dark circles under his normally bright eyes and the hunch to his shoulders. Blake could probably do with a good meal as well—something laden with protein and carbohydrates to refuel him after his ordeal.

  “How about I make us some food?” Derek kept his voice low and inviting.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Derek tried not to frown. “Come on. You should eat. Get your strength back. I promise, I’m a good cook.”

  “I said I wasn’t hungry,” Blake bit out. Derek went still at the unexpected outburst. Blake froze too. He sighed heavily. “Sorry. I’m still queasy, actually. It usually takes a while for that to pass.”

  Derek knew that was a common side effect, but all the reports suggested it passed within an hour or two of coming back. It had been at least three, going on four, since King pulled the sword from Blake’s chest.

  “You sure?” Derek was careful to keep his inquiry light. He had to check, but he didn’t want to piss Blake off.

  “Yeah. By dinner, I’ll be almost 100 percent and probably starving. But right now just the thought of food—” Blake blanched. “No thank you.”

  “All right. Why don’t you sit down, then? Put your feet up and relax. I can make some ginger tea to help with your nausea and then—”

  “I just need to sleep.” Blake’s voice bordered on peeved again, and Derek immediately backed off. Blake blew out a breath. “Sorry again. I can’t seem to help being a jerk. I just… you don’t know me yet, don’t know what I need. And so I’m telling you, more sleep right now.”

  Derek studied Blake, and it only took a moment to verify his claim. Blake looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept in days, and Derek was sure he could use the rest.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you.” Blake’s voice was barely audible, and the tiredness seemed even more prevalent now that Derek was aware how deep it went. “Really I just need to sleep. But I wouldn’t say no to a hearty dinner, if you don’t mind.”

  Derek took the olive branch for what it was. “Absolutely. Anything you don’t eat? Allergies or particular dislikes?”

  The corner of Blake’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “No. Well, I don’t like brussels sprouts and I’m not a fan of lamb. But other than that, I’m easy.”

  Derek caught the edge of humor in the word and absolutely refused to acknowledge what could easily be read as a double entendre. He would not go there, no matter what.

  He found Blake insanely attractive. No one in their right mind wouldn’t. He was lithe but strong and pale and beautiful. But they needed to foster a professional relationship. One that would hopefully lead to them being close friends on and off the clock. But that was as far as it should go.

  “No problem. I’ll make something good and filling as soon as I see what the kitchen is stocked with.”

  Blake’s smile grew and looked more real, and he nodded. “Thanks. If you need anything, just ask. The cafeteria is excellent, and if they have it, they’ll be more than happy to send it up. In fact, could you get some chocolate chip cookies, if there are any? I’d really love some later.”

  Derek agreed, and Blake offered him one more smile as he picked up his bag and tablet and headed for the bedroom on the right. Once he stepped inside, he nudged the door almost all the way closed. Derek smiled, glad he hadn’t shut it completely. Not only would it feel like he was closing Derek out, but Derek wouldn’t be able to hear him if something went wrong. Derek needed to be able to check on Blake as he continued to recover.

  With that thought in mind, Derek headed toward the kitchen. A cursory inspection netted him the ingredients to make chicken risotto soup and biscuits from scratch. It would be filling and healthy and give Blake the things he needed to recover, without being heavy. Easy on his stomach. The thought pleased Derek. There were no cookies in the cupboards, but Derek had the ingredients for those too. With everything laid out, he checked the time. He had at least a few hours.

  With a sati
sfied grin, he set to work. By the time Blake woke up, he’d have a filling meal and dessert waiting for him.

  Chapter Six

  “HEY, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?”

  Blake scratched his stomach, yawned, stretched, and graced Derek with a sexy, sleepy smile. No. Just sleepy. Nothing sexy about it. He had to remember that.

  Even if that smile was sexy as all get out.

  “Better, thanks,” Blake answered. “What smells so good?”

  Derek grinned. “Would that be the chicken risotto soup? Or the freshly baked cookies?”

  Blake’s steps faltered as though he had tripped over his own feet, and he grabbed the back of the straight-backed chair to steady himself. His eyes were wide with surprise, and his mouth hung open for a moment or two until he seemed to get ahold of himself.

  “You… baked?” Blake’s voice was full of awe.

  “Sure did.” Derek nodded and let his smile grow, pleased with Blake’s reaction. Cookies were a sure way to show a person they were cared for, and Derek had every intention of showing Blake exactly that in any way he could. It was the only way their partnership could work. “You could have a couple now, if you wanted. The soup needs some more time. I didn’t really get it going until I heard you up and moving around. Didn’t want it to sit too long or else the risotto gets too sticky.”

  Blake pulled out the chair, took two wobbly steps around it, and sat down hard. He rubbed his face vigorously with both hands and took a deep breath. Derek watched as he centered himself, worked through whatever was going on in his head, and then smiled.

  “I’d love some, if you don’t mind.”

  Derek quickly brought over a small plate with two of the large, chewy cookies. He’d perfected his own version of the standard chocolate chip recipe years before—the perfect ratio of chewy to crisp. It had taken him months of practice and tweaking.