by Dima Zales
Michael had stripped down to a white tank top, proof that he too felt a little hot under the collar. His eyes tracked my movement across the room, but he didn’t say anything. That was a first.
The television spouted information about the weather and current events, which didn’t surprise me. Michael would want to know what kind of environment we’d traveled into and if it was any better or worse than Albany. If we were lucky, though, we’d only be here for a few days. It all depended on whether the psychiatric hospital had held onto the full records of my mother’s stay. I had called ahead and requested patient information but they needed me to bring legal documentation—in my case, a copy of my birth certificate—to confirm that I was her daughter in order to access the files.
“Shower’s all yours,” I said unnecessarily. Some part of me enjoyed pushing Michael’s buttons and I couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing. He stood, tossed me the remote, and began searching through his duffel bag for clothing.
“What’s the plan for the rest of the night?”
I shrugged, eyes locked on the TV screen. Ooh, Castle rerun. Nice. “Order a pizza and sleep?”
His back was facing me but I could hear the smile in his voice. “Great. Something new and different for us.”
Wonder if I could set his head on fire with my mind. Nah. “What would you suggest then, Mr. O’Brien?”
“We’re in a new city. The least we can do is have dinner somewhere.”
I paused. “Why does that sound like a date?”
Michael turned and arched an eyebrow at me. “Is there something you need to tell me, Jordan?”
I spared him a cold look. “Ha-ha.”
He flashed me that million-dollar smile and I snorted, waving in the direction of the bathroom. “Stop flirting with me and go take a shower, pretty boy.”
His soft chuckle lingered even after he disappeared into the bathroom. Stupid sexy angel.
17
We ended up wandering around town on foot just to save on gas. The slow pace wasn’t as annoying as I thought it would be, now that the humidity had crept off into the night. This city had a relatively small population and it showed: the streets were busy with people, but the traffic and general noise was low. Music drifted through the air from a nearby club, punctuated by occasional cheering from whatever game was on inside the sports bars. Girls hung together in groups outside of the movie theater, giggling as cute boys walked past them. The environment felt comfortable, maybe because I’d become so used to the vibrant but sometimes impersonal city of Albany.
Plus, there was always the amusing pastime of people watching, which became especially fun when I went out with Michael. The archangel was somewhat aware of his effect on the opposite sex, but no more than that. He missed the longing glances sent at him from married women, the flirty smiles from single women, and the nervous snickers passed between teens and tweens. I found myself smirking at the hate-laden glances they sent me when we strolled by them. It was one of the unspoken benefits of being in the company of a good-looking guy.
“Hungry yet?”
Michael’s voice jolted me out of my petty thoughts. I shook my head. “Nah. Maybe in another hour or so. Besides, it seems like we’ve got company.”
I jerked a thumb backwards to the willowy blonde in a red sweater and black skirt who had been trailing us since we left the hotel.
Michael’s dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “When did you notice?”
“About a minute or two after we left the hotel.”
A slow smile touched his lips. “Would it be wrong to say I’m a little proud?”
I rolled my eyes. “I have been doing this whole ghost thing for two years, you know.”
“Point taken.”
The average person wouldn’t have noticed, but we did walk a little faster. The back of my neck tingled as if I could feel her stare from here. The nasty business with Jacob taught me to be much more cautious around spirits. Fortunately, Michael had taught me a few chants that would hold an evil spirit at bay, but the potential danger still hung over me like mist—thick, almost palpable.
Crickets and frogs serenaded our entrance into the park. Like the main streets, there were people, but the place wasn’t crowded. Most of the visitors had gathered at the shore of the placid lake. The cuter couples were skipping stones on the silver water and watching the ripples fragment the moon’s reflection. Nice date spot.
Michael and I headed for a more secluded area along the winding trail lit by the occasional lamppost. Thick foliage enclosed us on both sides of the path, making the place seem much more private than public.
We stopped in front of a park bench and turned towards the specter. She continued towards us with a calm expression, her pale but pretty face betraying nothing.
I casually slipped my hands into the pockets of my grey duster, checking that the blessed rosary was still in place, before speaking up.
“Can I help you?”
She jumped, shock evident in her voice even through the light British accent. “You can see me?”
“We both can. My name is Jordan and this is Michael. We noticed you’ve been following us for a while.”
The woman winced. “Sorry, it’s just that…something told me to follow you.”
“It’s an instinct that all human souls have. You’re drawn to people who can see ghosts. That’s what Jordan is,” Michael said.
The woman’s shoulders relaxed and she let out a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. I’ve felt so lost and alone.”
“It’s alright. We’re here to help. What’s the last thing you remember?” As I spoke, I rummaged through the inner pocket of my duster for the ever-present notepad and pen. Michael had a better memory than me, so he didn’t need one. Higher brain capacity, I supposed.
“Well, I was standing outside of a restaurant. I think it was an Applebee’s or something. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there or how long I’d been there. Someone walked right through me and that’s when I realized I wasn’t alive.”
“Do you remember your name?”
“Marianne.”
I began my list.
Marianne
Appears to be in her mid-to-late twenties
Red sweater, black skirt
Blonde hair
Blue eyes
British accent
Woke up in front of Applebee’s
“Anything else? Can you think of your last name or your address?”
She shook her head. “But there is this.”
Marianne reached inside the sweater and pulled off a gold necklace, holding it out. Michael and I stepped forward, though not close enough for her to touch us, and examined the oval locket. On one side, there were the initials M.R. and below them, the initials J.A. On the other, there was a photograph of a very young Marianne and a Middle Eastern boy. They couldn’t have been older than six or seven.
I wrote down a few more thoughts on the paper. “Alright. We’ll start working on your case tonight and see what we can come up with. If we’re lucky, it won’t take long.”
“What about them?”
“Them who?”
Marianne pointed behind us. Michael and I turned. My mouth dropped open.
There were at least ten ghosts standing behind us.
Holy shit.
They didn’t seemed organized or menacing. There were six men, three women, and one child all dressed differently, but each with the same needy look in their eyes.
I cleared my throat, my gaze traveling from one specter to the next. “This isn’t normal, is it?”
“Not in the least,” Michael replied, his green eyes wide. Ghosts never tended to appear all at once. On average, I encountered one every two to three weeks in Albany. The odds that ten of them would gather in New Jersey around Michael and I were incredibly improbable. Then again, no one ever said my job made any sense.
“What should we do?” I asked.
Michael ran a hand through his hair—a ne
rvous habit of his. “I don’t think we have much of a choice but to try and help them.”
A sigh escaped me. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
To them, I said: “Alright, folks, single file line. I need names and anything else you remember.”
Fifteen minutes later, a third of my notepad was filled with the personal information of nearly a dozen ghosts. We wouldn’t be able to help them tonight, so I sent all of them but Marianne away. Once they had gone, we walked back towards the front of the park.
“Well, that wasn’t weird,” I said, stuffing my notepad in my pocket. It was then that I noticed the rosary wasn’t in there. I paused, patting myself down but it was nowhere to be found.
Michael stopped walking when he noticed what I was doing. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I dropped the rosary back there. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” I jogged back up the trail, searching the gravel in the dim light of the lamps above me. When I reached the park bench a couple minutes later, I found it on the ground. Just as I stooped to pick it up, someone appeared in front of me.
I caught a look at his face and felt the blood drain out of mine.
“Terrell?”
My ex-boyfriend’s dark brown eyes widened to nearly epic proportions. “Jordan? What are you doing here?”
“I…I’m here for family issues. What are you doing here?” I asked, hating that my heartbeat had tripled in the last five seconds. Unfortunately, his good looks hadn’t faded in the least. His skin was a rich mahogany, teeth perfect and white, full lips softening his square jaw darkened by the presence of a goatee. His six-foot frame was encased in a navy suit jacket over a black shirt and blue jeans. I felt woefully unattractive in my comfortable, but unimpressive get up.
“Doctor’s conference,” Terrell said, the shock melting into a pleasant expression. “I’m here until Wednesday. Man. It’s crazy seeing you like this. How long’s it been?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Two and half years or so.”
“Sounds about right. Looks like they’ve been good to you.” A sly smile tugged at the edge of his lips. The blood in my cheeks heated up.
I shuffled momentarily, trying to regain composure. “I was just heading out of the park so…it was good seeing you.”
“Oh, come on, you’re not using that weak line on me, are you?” he said, arching an eyebrow.
I winced. “What do you want me to say?”
“Jordan, it’s been almost three years. The least you can do is let me buy you dinner so we can catch up.”
Deep inside, I felt my resolve beginning to crumble. Damn him. This man was the only person on Earth I couldn’t say no to.
“I dunno if that’s a good idea…”
He paused. “Oh, wait. Are you seeing someone…?”
I shook my head. “No, but I don’t want to make things complicated.”
“It’s dinner, not a week in Hawaii. Tomorrow night, the Dynasty, eight o’clock. Don’t be late.” With that, he flashed me another brilliant smile and kept walking. I stared after him for a long moment before turning around and returning to Michael and Marianne waiting for me. When I reached them, Michael was scanning the crowd with a slight frown on his face.
“Something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, I just got an odd feeling all of the sudden. Ready?”
I thought about pressing him to explain what he’d felt, but decided to do it later. “Yeah. Let’s head for the Applebee’s and see if anything rings a bell for Marianne.”
It didn’t take long to get there, but luck still wasn’t on our side. The staff didn’t recall seeing anyone with her friend’s description, but they let me have all the last names that started with A. We headed back to the hotel to begin the tedious search process to see if anything turned up.
Twenty minutes on Google proved fruitless until I managed to get lucky with the eighth name on my list of potentials. The guy in the photo’s name was Jameson Micah Arlo. He’d used his middle name for the reservation. He worked at an orphanage outside the city limits. We couldn’t call to meet with him because it was after visiting hours and all the kiddies would be asleep, so we’d have to arrange a meeting tomorrow. I gave Marianne instructions to meet us tomorrow in the afternoon. Like most ghosts, she felt worried about leaving our presence while we slept, but I assured her a walk the city might help her memory return.
With a groan, I toppled over backwards on my bed, eyes dropping closed. The cool cotton of the comforter felt great. Peace at last. Not that I’d keep it that way.
“So what was with the ghost party in the park?”
“That I don’t know,” Michael said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. I left Gabriel a voicemail asking if he’d encountered something similar.”
“I don’t suppose it’s Christ’s Return, is it?”
He let out a small chuckle. “Ah, no. Trust me, you’ll know when that happens.”
A grin touched my lips. Well, he had a point. Revelation painted a much more vivid picture of the Rapture, after all. I wasn’t the best Christian, but I did know the basics.
“Is there anything that could cause such a large collection of souls?”
Michael paused before replying. “Perhaps a holy item being discovered? Not something like the Spear—something that has more of a connection to mankind. The spear represented man’s sin. It would have to be something…purer.”
I sat up, the grin evaporating as a thought occurred to me. “And what are the odds it would appear the same time we’re in New Jersey?”
His green eyes radiated the same concern as my brown ones. “Impossible.”
A sigh escaped me. “For once, can I just have a normal week?”
Michael spared me a faint smile. “Apparently not. How ‘bout I pick out somewhere nice to go tomorrow night to make up for it?”
“Can’t. I have plans.”
Up went the angel’s eyebrows. “With whom?”
I pointedly did not look at him as I answered, choosing to sift through my suitcase for my nightclothes. “Terrell.”
“Terrell? You mean ex-boyfriend, white-picket-fence Terrell?”
“The same.”
“When’d you run into him?”
“When I went to grab the rosary in the park.”
“Oh.”
An awkward silence fell. I ignored it.
Michael took a moment before speaking again. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Funny how he echoed me having not been there when it happened. “It’s dinner, not a honeymoon in the Bahamas. Wasn’t my idea in the first place.”
“But you still agreed to go.”
I shot him a sarcastic look. “Yes, I did, Captain Obvious. Is there a problem?”
He stared back at me for a second before adopting the phoniest smile I’d ever been graced to see on this Earth. “Nothing would make me happier than to see you two together.”
I shook my head. “You’re an awful liar, Michael.”
The angel cleared his throat, seeming a bit embarrassed. “In all seriousness, I am actually thinking about your welfare. You two do have a pretty rough past.”
I gathered my clothes up, heading for the bathroom. “I’ll be fine, trust me. If I were impressed by knights in shining armor, I would have fallen for you.”
He frowned at me. “Ouch.”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “Sticks and stones, Michael. Sticks and stones.”
18
Something tickled down my chest. I couldn’t see it. There was cloth over my eyes—a blindfold. I should have panicked, but I felt oddly calm. I was lying on silken sheets that cradled my body as if they were alive. Weird.
The mysterious object brushed over my throat. I shivered, reaching up to undo the blindfold, but a soothing male voice stopped me.
“Not yet.”
I felt compelled to listen to him, so I lowered my arms and lay motionless. The air stirre
d over my face and then I felt it again—across my forehead, over my nose, past my lips. I realized after a moment that it was a feather. Its delicate ridges dipped past my collarbone and caressed the scarred flesh on my chest; a soothing gesture. Moments later, I felt the warm breath of someone’s mouth and then soft lips. The kiss lasted only seconds, but it felt longer. My mind was spinning from the simple pleasure of it.
The man withdrew. I reached up to undo the blindfold as he cupped my chin, stroking my skin. My eyes opened, focusing slowly. As they adjusted, I could see the silhouette of wings stretching wide from the man’s bare back. But there was something wrong. His wings weren’t silver but midnight black, and the tips were singed as if they had been held over a flame. The man’s face faded into view and it was one I knew very well: alabaster skin, long jet black hair, serpentine smile, and eyes so pale blue that they were almost white, making the thin pupils at the center seem even more reptilian.
Belial smiled that cold smile as he closed the inches between us. “Did you miss me, my pet?”
My lungs filled with air and I screamed.
I awoke with a jolt, panting, cold sweat dripping down my spine like icy fingers, reaching for my mouth as if I could still feel the demon’s lips. Shit.
I heard Michael stir in his bed, awakened by my gasping. It took him only seconds to notice I was not in good shape. He tossed back the covers and hurried to my side, his voice still gravelly from slumber.
“Jordan, what’s wrong?”
I just shook my head, still not coherent enough to talk. He reached out to touch my shoulder.
“Geez, you’re shaking.”
I swatted his hand away just as his fingertips brushed my skin. “Don’t! Don’t…touch me.”
“Alright, I won’t. Just tell me what you saw.”
I kicked the covers off my legs and walked over to the mini-fridge on the floor, wordlessly opening it. Michael spoke from behind me.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting a drink. What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped, slamming the door shut after I found a comically small bottle of alcohol.
