He made me jump as if we were doing something elicit, though his tone was laughing.
“That’s our next trial from her, Gid. Test the waters.” Adam leaned on the archway. “That’ll be why she’s having a go curling up with the fox and the albino in one night.”
“What?” Stunned, I faced him. “I—what are you talking about?”
“We’ve noses.” Adam shrugged.
“It’s no concern of ours,” Gideon said pleasantly. “Told her I’m no jealous soloist.”
“Nah,” Adam agreed. “What’d I say?” Asking me. “Gideon gets on with all sorts. Foreigners from up north and worms from the backcountry with accents so thick you need a bridge to walk across. One flea nips his ass and he’s ready to burn down the chair he was sitting on, but mighty fine getting on with folks.”
“Anyway…” Gideon offered his hand. “I’ll make up last night to you. Unless you decide there’s nothing to make up?” Cocking his head.
I gave him my hand, uncertain, still thrown for a loop that they knew what had happened with Vel. Wade, okay, they’d probably heard that. But how, and when, had they known about Vel? They really could smell him on me?
Gideon bent in, head near mine, drawing up my hand to kiss.
“No, of course there’s nothing to make up for,” I said.
“You enjoyed it?” He rolled his eyes up to mine while his face was bent over my hand.
“We were all being messed with. It wasn’t just you.”
“Then, if you hadn’t been under the influence of vampiric manipulation you would not have enjoyed it?”
“How am I supposed to know what would have—?”
He kissed me, mouth covering mine, lips moist and feverishly hot. I lifted both hands to his face to stop him where he was as I stepped back. What had broken down in communication? I’d said no worries, but there was Wade now, so I was spoken for. He’d said … what? That he wasn’t jealous and he worked well with others?
Oh … shit. I finally understood what he’d been saying as he stepped into me, leaning in, his hand between my shoulder blades. Oh … kay…
What about Wade being the jealous or not jealous type? What about me being good or otherwise?
It wasn’t like I’d made some sort of commitment. Besides that, Wade had been there in the room, knowing that there was something with Gideon and me already.
So much happening in the past twenty hours. So much exploding like this explosion in my mouth, traveling along my tongue and down my spine, through my blood—and it was so, so hot in this damn kitchen.
I eased away. Gideon turned, moving so he was pushing me into the side of the island. No longer needing to hold my back, his hands also ran up to my face, palms on my cheeks, fingers sliding into my hair and back, holding me in, pushing and pulling at the same time.
Why does everything happen at once? I’d been aching to meet this guy, like this exact Hollywood hunk, for a couple of years. Then, wham-O, here he is! Boo! And, guess what? Last night, I had the best sex of my life and kind of decided I was no longer searching. Only that particular white man wasn’t here right now, and Mr. Hollywood was.
The island dug painfully into my back, sharp and unyielding—a bit like Gideon’s fly. His hands held me in with the strength of the counter edge behind me. His tongue tasted like rich, smoky bacon. I was way too full to be into this. A few minutes ago I’d been ready for a nap. No idea how that turned like lightning on a clear day into a vision of Gideon jerking down my shorts and taking me there against the counter. I’d never had standing sex, never imagined being with a guy so ripped he could do that whole lifting me in the air and my long legs around him thing. My size-nines could stand on his bare feet.
I bent my head back, struggling to breathe and overheating, making Gideon free his tongue from my mouth. He bit my throat, licking away the sweat at the base of my jaw.
What if Wade walked in? I’d hear the front door first, right? Even over the beating of my pulse and Gideon’s fast motions and breath and kisses? Would it be for the best if Wade did walk in? Gideon’s approach of asking directly if I was into him was a serious turn-on, not to mention being cool with Wade. Could I be as direct and Wade be as cool with this? Adam was right about needing tests.
Gideon kissed my ear, my neck, my shoulder, running his hands up under the sleeveless blouse. He raised it easily with my arms already lifted to his face. His hands reached my breasts, pressing in while I thought of Wade’s mouth last night, imagining Gideon’s teeth on my nipple.
Why hadn’t we had this conversation in the family room? Comfortable couch and cushions and rug for that matter?
Was Gideon prepared to use protection? I wasn’t. But hadn’t Vel said it didn’t matter? Different species?
Surely Wade wasn’t the jealous type. Surely he didn’t think just because we’d been on a few dates and slept together that meant what I’d thought it meant—which was that we were both involved with someone specific now. Such a narrow, judgmental viewpoint. Not old-fashioned, we were modern Americans. Modern wolf licking, biting, digging in, moving over my face, neck, and breasts, finding my mouth with his tongue. This was what it felt like to be eaten by wolves.
I think Gideon had been waiting for me to proclaim a dividing line of what worked or where I was comfortable taking things for now. I was waiting for something to happen to indicate this moment as well. Front door opening? Adam irritated with us making out in front of him and telling us to get a room? Trip on a cat? Counter pressure becoming unbearably painful? Full stomach rebelling at the idea of sex, switching off the hormones? Something? Anything…?
Instead, that kitchen got hotter and hotter.
38
Gideon opened the fly on my shorts. Room in the vampire house all over again, burning for him, wrapped up in him. Only Wade was missing this time. How much better had it been to have one front and one back?
I returned Gideon’s pressure as he kissed me, crushing me into the island.
Maybe Wade would walk in. He wouldn’t be upset. He would join us. After last night, the high he gave me, anything seemed possible, desirable. The idea of having them both made me swoon. I felt dizzy, unable to catch my breath, head spinning for a second as I leaned back, forced effortlessly upright between two opposing walls of wood.
He started to push my shorts down but changed to get his own fly open. I reached for him, a fresh wave of arousal mixing with the fevered desire to feel what came next—how this experience would measure up to those before.
Almost holding my breath, hand on his as he tugged at his own zipper, one more second and I could wrap my hands around him.
The front door opened.
Gideon didn’t flinch.
I clutched his hand, digging my nails in to stop him with a flicker of uncertainty. What had I just decided? That I wanted Wade to see us together. Was I such a chicken liver I’d back down now? Pretend nothing was happening? Even though Wade knew he had competition? Surely not.
But I did.
I wrenched myself along the counter, body ablaze, panting, pushing back Gideon’s hands for him to keep to himself. I zipped up my own fly and smoothed down the blouse in a flash, then grabbed the glass.
Gideon’s mouth was wide open as he stared at me. He appeared too bewildered by my actions even to move or curse me out.
Adam, on the other hand, leaning into the archway on one foot, the other bent over the first on his toes, was grinning at Gideon like a crocodile. Had he known? Heard the car? Better nose and ears?
“Why didn’t you warn us?” I snapped.
His eyes sparkled. “Hadn’t known I was invited to the barn raising.”
“You jerk. You could’ve said something.”
Wade walked into the room, with a bouquet of red roses and yellow carnations, beaming at me.
I thought of throwing my drink in Adam’s face, took a quick swallow instead. “Wade, hi.”
“Morning. Smells great. Or afternoon? Are you okay?”
“I am wonderful.” Another drink. “It’s flaming in here. Let’s go into the family room. We were playing games.”
“Yeah…” Wade looked from me to Gideon.
I stepped up to Wade, blocking his view and taking the flowers. “Thank you.” Kissing his cheek so he wouldn’t taste my lips. “Is that what you’ve been out doing?”
His smile returned. “I thought they might brighten the place up. Your house is a little, well…”
“It’s freaking depressing and a total mess. I know. And yes, they do. Could we split them up? Some in here and some on the table? Gideon? There are vases on top of the refrigerator. Could you grab a couple?”
Adam was laughing as he walked away.
39
We spent the afternoon flipping through notebooks of my parents’ or actual books on the topic of cleansing. They hardly had any. Over the years, they’d become the authorities on the subject and had moved so much they didn’t keep stuff around. There were some logs and records and a couple old books that it would probably help to read cover-to-cover, plus my mom’s laptop that I sat with on the couch for hours but, at the end of the day—literally—it just wasn’t much use.
I knew enough already that notes like, Order camphor before next spirit house, didn’t help. Yes, she used camphor with certain hauntings, but no, I didn’t know how. One thing that should have been useful on the laptop was their Midway City document listing addresses, owners, and sometimes a stray detail like, Holdover spirits, or, Bring ropes. Occasionally I knew what these meant. But how could ropes be put to any use against either ghosts or undead?
There were three basic types when it came to these troubled houses. I did know that much.
Undead: inhabited by one or more vampires, usually hidden in a basement or in any way underground during daylight hours. An undead was a human who had died and their body had been spawned into a vampire existence.
Spirit holdover: inhabited by one or more “ghosts” which can happen when someone dies and the body is put to rest but the spirit refuses to disconnect from this realm of existence. Maybe they haven’t finished something, have a message for someone, or even don’t understand and need a guide to help them fully cross over. These spirits come in as many temperaments as their physical counterparts. However, house-cleaners don’t get called in for the happy ones. Holdover accounted for the majority of what people called haunted houses and were generally not taken seriously, including inside the community. Most casters have no more awareness of disembodied spirit issues than do mundanes.
Demon: inhabited by the same as above—not true demons in the mythological sense, but devilish nonetheless. Simply a slang word like ghost is a slang word for a bodiless spirit. Calling a spirit a demon is a distinguisher rather like calling a man a monster—serial killer or war criminal, for example. A demon is just another spirit except that a demon is seriously fucked up. This can lead to power growth, such as consuming the energy of other spirits or humans, and abilities that set the demon apart from regular spirits—infiltrating minds, manifesting as physical for short times, and so on. Demons happen when evil doesn’t die with a body, enlightenment fails, and basically everything goes bat-shit wrong. They can be incredibly dangerous, even to living beings, even to professionals. On the plus side, they are really rare. On the minus side, my parents had come to Midway City because it was rumored to be the most demon-infested town in the country.
Their work had been so specialized that even inside the community most people weren’t aware of it. When I looked at it like that, it felt stupid to be their only child and never have tried to learn alongside them. Ever since I’d known about my curse and put it together with their work I’d wanted out. Which was since I was a little kid.
They had referred to my curse as my gift and tried in all sorts of ways, for years, to get me on board and interested. I would have none of it. I’m sure that them eventually giving up on me and letting me get on with my own life and interests was the greatest disappointment in their lives. Something like raising Doctor Dolittle only to watch him become a math teacher.
I couldn’t help it. Even feeling bad for them about the rift that we’d all gradually learned to ignore and move through these last few years, I’d never regretted my choice. Until now.
Skimming documents on the laptop I got the feeling I could read for weeks and still not be any wiser. They’d kept no more than rough logs. Mom had said for years she would write a book about their adventures once they retired. In the meantime, dated notes like, Bad one with the child spirits in the fire, might have jogged her memory to write a gripping chapter about children who had died in the fire, but it didn’t mean a thing to someone who wanted to know how to help the next round of spirits to move on.
I hadn’t wanted to go through their things like this. It was too soon, too fresh, I couldn’t face it. Now, it seemed like another stupid choice to not at least try. With help, three guys around me who I already cared about without being real sure why, it wasn’t bad. When it had just been me it was all about the loss. With them, it was all about trying to gain something.
I kept reading.
Wade sat in an end chair, feet on the ottoman—Blue sprawled on his lap despite the heat—and read in the only books I could find. After his haunting workshop maybe Wade would come away knowing as much about this as I did.
Adam stacked the games and flipped through notebooks, lying on his back on the floor until he fell asleep, snored, and Gideon kicked him, launching an argument that I tried to ignore.
Gideon paced or sat on the other chair while he read, flicking felt balls across the floor for Pickles when they crossed paths. I thought he was only restless, changing my mind after Adam had fallen asleep. Gideon was struggling not to do the same.
Wade and I weren’t exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed either. I told them to take a nap. Gideon said he would take me to supper later. Upon which Wade said no, he would, so Adam said he would, just for giggles.
I had my leftover wings for later. They could do whatever they wanted. Gideon looked frustrated at this and Wade visibly drooped.
“Oh, my God, what difference does it make? We’ll go out to a meal some other time if it’s that important to everyone. We have tons of food here.” I suppressed a yawn. “Should all get some rest if we can. Then a meal and head out pre-sunset so I can feed the cats before we go to the next house.” I rubbed my eyes.
“What is the next house?” Wade asked.
“Rounding up geriatric vampires?” I shrugged. “We’ll start with the abandoned or empty ones. Things get more complicated with mundane inhabitants involved. Especially when they don’t actually want their house cleaned. No need to worry about that now. Midway City is coming apart. They haven’t even been able to drum up tourism and there are dozens of empty places, many with problems. We’ll see what Fulco has in mind.”
“Someone still owns them, though,” Wade said. “Do you know who to call to go in?”
I looked up. Apparently he was under the impression that we’d had permission to be on the property last night. Just like they all thought I was going to pay them.
After a pause, I said, “Sure, don’t worry about it,” and returned my attention to the screen.
I mean, I would pay them at some point. Some of the jobs, those with concerned homeowners who were desperate enough to seek help from “psychics”—how Mom and Dad billed themselves to the mundane community—actually did pay. The thing was, I didn’t have any paying jobs lined up. Everyone in town knew the psychics had died, so there wouldn’t be anything too odd about their daughter knocking on the door of all these addresses and saying she was trying to follow-up—and had my parents been working with this residence?
Time-consuming but a start, and maybe slight compensation for all involved. At least it didn’t seem like Gideon or Adam were concerned about being away from home and work for a while. I wasn’t so sure about Wade’s situation. Job? School? Living with his parents?
What was his deal? I hadn’t asked and now decided I’d better not. It would draw attention to the fact that I wasn’t handing out cash at the end of a hard night’s cleaning.
Wade somehow followed the subject switch in my mind, frowning at his book. “Hadn’t your parents already been working on Midway City? They must have made progress.”
“They spent so much time on this place. My dad had a day job with the larger of two banks in town and my mom was involved with multiple animal rescues. They didn’t just run around clearing houses all the time. They made progress, but it’s still Midway City we’re talking about. Not like the well is running dry.” I sighed and shut the laptop as Wade was starting to ask something else. “I’m going to grab a beer and go lie down. I’ll take this and read more—or sleep trying. See you later. And thanks for joining the treasure hunt.”
Wade started to stand up when I did, shifting Blue, but hesitated. I wanted him to come with me. Or Gideon. Gideon out of guilt about earlier—actually two incidents with him now. Wade because I wanted his company and arms around me and feeling safe going to sleep again.
But I’d remembered even as I’d said the words “go lie down” that I’d left a naked dude in my bed some hours before. Was he still up there?
What was I supposed to do if I walked into my room to find him in the same place and I happened to already be in company? Seemed like I better check. At least Wade had his phone. If I got up and found all clear—hopefully Vel would have hopped out the window or otherwise vamoosed—I’d text Wade and he could come up.
By the time I’d reached the stairs with laptop and beer can, I was sure this would be the case. Wade was the company I needed. Making up for those interruptions with Gideon would have to come later.
Turned out, both had to come later. When I quietly opened my bedroom door and slipped inside it was to find Vel unmoved, sleeping peacefully—which really irked me.
Where was I supposed to go? Parents’ room. No one had used it last night.
House of Darkness Page 19
