Haunted Redemption

by Rebecca Royce

  I grabbed the door handle again, this time prepared for discomfort, and shoved open the entrance. A cold wind struck me.

  Despite the utter need to run for my life, I bore down and pushed my way into the house despite the terror in my heart.

  What the hell was going on in there?

  I stood frozen, staring at the scene in front of me. I almost couldn’t believe it. There had to be sixty ghosts floating in the main entranceway alone. They were beautiful in their wrongness. No wonder the owners of this place had called for help. Even the least aware person on the planet would feel sick stepping into this mess.

  I doubted Malcolm knew what he’d sent me into. I was new to him, and as a businessman, he’d probably send a more experienced contractor to manage this kind of eruption. My parents had a word for this kind of infestation. Dad had named it a Cascade.

  When a house or a building became overwhelmed with otherness, with dark energy, eventually the draw became so supreme that the whole place cascaded with wrongness, and it was amazing the walls didn’t fall down around it. Only the sheer perfection of creation, of human ingenuity in building solid structures, kept the place standing against the onslaught.

  “You don’t belong here.”

  I raised my head to stare at the one who addressed me. He was old but not ancient. I’d seen ghosts who had been around longer. His clothes were turn of the century—the last century. Watching him float around in his vest, tie, hat, and gloves while he bounced around the modern furniture belonging to whomever had the misfortune of living here, showed me how out of tune the whole place had become.

  All he needed was the cane.

  “Oh, you’re a threatening one; aren’t you?” I raised my hand, and as my body came alive with power, I flung the ghost from the world. His eyes widened before he disappeared into the distance. Elation moved through my blood, but I tempered the feeling. I had a lot of work to do. This was just the beginning of the house. I couldn’t leave until it was all done.

  This was my job, and from day one I intended to be the best at it.

  “Who’s next?” Maybe I did have a little Buffy in me after all.

  Room by room, I cleared the ghosts. By the end, they ran from me. I’d never understood exactly why, but by the time I arrived some place, the ghosts couldn’t leave it anymore. Before I showed up, they could alter locations, but not once I saw them. They were mine. My body buzzed. I’d never felt more alive.

  ****

  Spots danced before my eyes as I panted next to my car. I was exhausted, beyond done, and happier than I’d been in years. The euphoria wouldn’t last forever; it was a natural reaction to clearing the wrongness from the planet. The harder the job, the longer the high. It would be days before I came down, and I couldn’t say I minded much.

  With my shaking hand, I texted Malcolm. Done.

  I raised myself up and opened the door to my car. Should I drive? There were laws about drinking and driving. What was the rule for operating a motor vehicle when buzzing from too much paranormal exertion?

  Took you a while. Did you run into any trouble?

  I rolled my eyes at his response. You see how fast you can manage a Cascade.

  I giggled. The big point was that I had managed it. A whole Cascade by myself in my first job back. I couldn’t believe it.

  Wait. What? Are you okay? The phone rang, and I answered. “Are you serious? A Cascade?”

  Malcolm apparently knew what that term meant. I shouldn’t be surprised. My father was famous in our world. If he coined a term, it would have taken off. “I’m serious.” I laughed again. Euphoria proved hard to resist even if I had wanted to. “I lost count of how many. But they’re all gone now. Whoever owns this house can come home to a clean living space.”

  “You are high as a kite.” He groaned loudly. “Don’t drive. I’ll be there very soon. I’m five minutes out. When you texted, I was on my way to see you because it was taking so long. There are laws about driving high—this might not be alcohol or drug induced but it’s the same thing.”

  I moved away from the car to spin in a circle. The world was really beautiful when viewed from the inside of a spin. Lots of colors, lots of wind, lots of…

  A hand on my shoulder caught my attention, and I looked up to see who had grabbed me. A tall man I’d never before encountered stared down at me. He was super tall, would probably even make Levi look small, with brown hair that curled around his ears. His face appeared long, with a prominent chin, and green almond-shaped eyes.

  “Hello.” I waved my hand at him. “You’re really handsome.” I giggled again. “And really, really tall.”

  Stubble covered his cheeks and chin, and when he grinned back at me, I could see his beard had some red in it. “Ah, thanks. Are you okay? Do you need some help?”

  “Do I seem like I need some help?” Somewhere in what remained of my rational brain, I figured I probably did. As far as I could remember, my mother had never been as high on the process as I was right at that second. But then again, they’d lived in their car. If she had been, my father would have scurried her into the backseat, put me in the front, and left her there to sort it out until she came down. Helped to work with partners.

  “You don’t smell like alcohol. But I have to say that when beautiful women are spinning in a circle for minutes on end, it usually means they’re on something. At least if they’re over the age of five or so. Are you? On something?”

  I took his arms in my hands and squeezed. His muscles were way hard, and that made me laugh again. “Life. I am on a big dose of life. Do you work out all the time? You must. You have giant muscles.”

  A car squealed to the curb, and not letting go of the big guy’s arms, I turned to see Malcolm stalking toward me. He was fierce, with his eyes focused and his jawline hard. “Miller. Hands off her. She belongs to me.”

  “Hey, brother, she’s got her hands on me.”

  I let go of the man—Miller—and stepped back. “You two know each other?”

  “No.” Malcolm answered at the same time Miller said. “Oh, yes, we’re old friends.”

  “That doesn’t really make sense. You either know each other or you don’t.”

  My broker took my arm—gently considering how the fierce look on his face could have lent itself to a much more aggressive touch. “Come on, Sage. We’re leaving.”

  “My car?” I couldn’t simply get in his and go, abandoning my one source of transportation on the street. I had the kids on Monday. I had to be able to get them to school and their extracurricular activities. We weren’t walking to all those places.

  Malcolm made a gruff noise in his throat. “It’ll be there when you wake up in the morning.”

  “Oh yes,” the tall man whom Malcolm clearly hated answered with a laugh. “He has people to take care of those kinds of problems. Listen, Sage. You need to get away from him.”

  We stopped abruptly by the car. Malcolm dropped my arm and stormed back to the Miller person. I’m not sure what he said, but by the way they glared at each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if punches started to fly.

  “It would be so hot if they started swinging at each other.”

  They both stopped whatever they were saying and turned their heads, practically in unison, to stare at me. That was when it occurred to me that I’d spoken aloud. I was too happy to care that I should be embarrassed.

  Malcolm raised a dark eyebrow before returning to my side. Over his shoulder he called to Miller. “Don’t call her Sage. I mean it. I hear that again, and I’ll beat you so hard you won’t be able to see for a week, Chase.”

  Chase? “I thought his name was Miller.”

  Miller grinned at me, showing dimples in his cheeks. “Chase Miller. It’s nice to meet you, whatever your name is. We’re going to see each other again. I hope the crash from the clearing doesn’t hit you too hard. What should I call you?”

  “Nothing.” Malcolm opened the car door, and with a firm hand on my back, made s
ure I got into it. “You should never speak, look, or even think about her again.”

  Chase snorted. “Wow. This one has your protective instincts out.”

  Whatever Malcolm would have said after that I missed, as Malcolm slammed the car door so hard I was surprised he didn’t shatter the window. Seconds later, he was in the vehicle and we’d pulled out onto the street.

  He didn’t speak, but a muscle in his jaw ticked every so often. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to give himself a headache. I almost said something, but then I noticed his radio. It wasn’t on, but I wanted it to be. Music would be so fun after the two men screaming on the street. Not one of them had told me what a wonderful job I’d done clearing a Cascade. What was the matter with them?

  I switched on the car radio, and Malcolm hissed in his breath. “Oh, hell no.” From a button on his steering wheel, he turned it back off. “No one touches the radio in a car I’m driving except me. “

  “That seems like a stupid rule. Why are you king of the tunes? Some kind of control thing?”

  He eyed me sideways, not taking his gaze from the road. “What kind of crash do you usually have after a high like this? Are you going to be able to get up tomorrow?”

  “I’ve never had a high exactly like this one before. This was my first solo Cascade. Before I left home, my parents used to give me jobs to do, but Mom would have insisted on managing that level of infestation herself.” I raised my hands over my head. “But look at me; I did it.”

  Malcolm’s mouth hung open like a landed fish. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come or sent someone to help you.”

  “Didn’t need the help. I rock.” I grinned at him, and even though he shook his head he smiled back at me.

  “The radio is mine. If we’re ever in your car….” He turned on the music, and a soft ballad I didn’t recognize came on. The woman sang in a language I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I knew heartbreak when I heard it.

  Tears I didn’t want to shed filled my eyes. I was too on edge; the high could easily be replaced with a sudden low if I wasn’t careful. As quickly as the music started, it stopped, and silence filled the car again.

  “Sorry. I don’t want you crashing. You earned the buzz for a while.” He stroked his chin. I watched his hand, transfixed. What would it feel like on my body? My mouth went dry.

  I sank down in my seat, feeling warm again. “You’re so hot. What do you do? Wake up in the morning and figure out ways to drive women crazy?”

  “Ha.” His sudden, loud bark-of-a-laugh caught me by surprise. “You’re a trip.”

  Goosebumps crept onto my skin, and I turned around to see what had caused the surge of awareness. In the back seat sat the ghost from the Vortex. He stared straight ahead, his eyes unseeing.

  “Malcolm…”

  He interrupted me. “I know. Ignore him.”

  “Okay.”

  My body wanted to clear the presence. On full alert from the job I’d just done, it would have been beyond easy to rid the world of its presences. Only Malcolm didn’t want me to. The deceased presence followed him around everywhere, it would seem.

  The question was, why? And I had a feel the king of deflection sitting next to me would never volunteer that information.

  ****

  My doorbell ringing the next morning woke me from the sleep of the dead. After cleaning my entire house top to bottom twice, I’d finally passed out from exhaustion. Sleep had apparently not entirely defused my buzz as the world tilted sideways and took on an immediate rosy glow. I groaned. It was possible to feel too good for too long.

  I looked at the clock and was relieved to see it was only nine o’clock. If I had slept through afternoon pick up, that would be bad. As it was, I needed to call Victoria to help me. I wouldn’t risk my kids in the car the way I felt. Thank goodness Malcolm had come and gotten me the night before.

  Still in my pajamas, I made it downstairs to the door and then stopped short. Chase Miller from the sidewalk in Lakeway stood on the other side, two coffees in hand, waiting on my stoop. Two thoughts dawned on me at once. One: I hadn’t imagined how cute he was, but that didn’t explain how he ended up at my house. And two: I was wearing fuzzy, pink flannel PJs that had seen better days.

  I poked my head out, not opening the door entirely, to speak to him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t you mean how did I find you?” He held up the coffee in front of him like an offering. “I’m harmless to you. I swear. I have some questions. Can I come in?”

  I eyed the brew in front of him. “I’m still too up to take that.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Must have been a big job last night.”

  “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Years of getting rid of salespeople from my porch had taught me not to be a pushover. Let them into the house for even a second, and I would find myself with a new vacuum. I didn’t know who Chase Miller was, but his showing up proved him to be capable of a pretty ballsy move . I didn’t know what he was selling, yet I had enough of my faculties left to be sure I didn’t want whatever it was at the moment.

  “Chase Miller.” He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to me. I stared down at it, reading his name and the words “private detective” underneath. “I’m here because I want to talk to you about Malcolm, about why you need to get away from him, and I found you because you left your car on the side of the road, which made it really easy to track you down.”

  “That could be a fake card. You could be a serial killer. I let you in, and boom I’m suddenly a Dateline story.”

  He grinned, showing his dimples again. “I could be. Although I think if I were, Malcolm would have shown off some of his other skills last night and ended me where I stood. He walked away. That should tell you he doesn’t think I’m dangerous.”

  Chase made a point, but an abundance of caution was called for. Ghosts I could manage. Men potentially wielding knives to kill me in my pink flannel, fuzzy pajamas were another thing entirely.

  “I’m going to text Malcolm.”

  He groaned. “I figured as much. He’s going to have a cow. I hope you’re prepared to see him before breakfast. He’s not pleasant in the morning.”

  I’d love to know how Malcolm was in the morning. I could think of nothing I’d like better. Of course, in my fantasy scenario he was naked in my bed. I blinked and forced away the thought. Chase Miller was too hot for me to start sexually fantasizing. I wasn’t down yet, and if I wasn’t careful I’d be asking him to take off his clothes. Malcolm. Chase. Levi. What the hell was the matter with me?

  I should go to the doctor and get my hormones examined.

  I pulled out the phone I only used for communicating with my broker and quickly texted him that I was letting Chase into the house and if I turned up dead he should phone the police.

  After I’d done so, I repocketed the phone and opened the door wider so Chase could come in. He smelled like cloves, and I quietly inhaled. That scent had always been one of my favorites. A shudder of pleasure ran through my spine. I was in so much trouble.

  Chase stopped in my front hall, looking around until his eyes fixated on a picture of the family that I’d hung awhile back. It had been Dex’s birthday party. He loved everything to do with snakes, and Levi stood behind us holding one in his arms while Dex grinned and the rest of us screamed. A candid picture from when we’d all been happy.

  I’d taken down all the photos of just Levi and I from around the house. The ones with the kids that included him stayed up. We were still a family, even though we’d become a broken one.

  “You’re married?” His eyes went from the photo to my ring free hand.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Divorced.”

  He nodded, and I might have imagined it, but some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. “Your kids are cute.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And they make me even more certain I made the right decision co
ming over here this morning. Malcolm is dangerous. He’s not safe for you to be around. I don’t know how long you’ve been with him. I can’t imagine it’s very long, or I would have seen you before yesterday. He’s not a person you should be involved with, and you most especially don’t want him anywhere near your kids.”

  I’d never gone to a regular high school or junior high. Living in the van with my parents, I’d only interacted with other teens on occasion when we got together with other families that were like our own. I had, however, seen lots of teen movies over the years. We were grown-ups, and yet Chase seemed straight out of a movie where one kid told another one who they should and should not hang out with.

  I didn’t need any of this crap.

  “Chase.” I pointed my finger at him like I did to Dex when he’d done something I didn’t like. “I don’t know who you think you are. You don’t know me. You don’t know my kids. You have no idea what my relationship with Malcolm is, why I’m working with him, or even what my background happens to be. I don’t need a stranger—some private detective with a chip on his shoulder—coming over to my house while I am still in my pajamas and butting into my business like he has any right to do so. If this was the entire purpose of your visit, then I need you to get the hell out now.”

  I expected anger, annoyance, or hostility from him. I didn’t anticipate the dimples showing up while he grinned at me. “Bravo. I am being an asshat. I really am. I’m also trying to save your life. Can we start over?”

  He had my attention.

  Chapter Seven

  “Go on.” If my life was at risk, I had to pay attention. I had three kids whom I didn’t want featuring in the story of the week about their missing mother. The police would look at Levi first, and he’d tell them I was crazy, that I saw ghosts, and my former friends would talk about how I’d obviously become a drug addict … It would all be too awful for words.