by Lori Drake
Joey swallowed and approached the ladder, but Adam scrambled up it ahead of her. The rickety thing creaked and groaned as he ascended, but it held together. When he reached the top, Adam flicked on a light and looked down at them through the hole.
“Come on up.”
Joey stepped forward and scampered up the ladder before she lost her nerve. Adam offered her a hand when she neared the top. She took it, but didn’t look around too closely until she was finished climbing. The creaking of the ladder as someone else ascended behind her wasn’t lost on her. No going back.
The space wasn’t as small as she’d feared, but it was stuffed full of boxes and trunks. Cramped, to say the least. The ceiling was high enough that Joey could stand upright, but the others had to stoop. Once they were all up the ladder, the space felt even tighter.
Joey breathed through her mouth in an effort to keep calm. “Where’s the spot?”
“This way,” Adam said. He led the way through a maze of junk, over to a small window some way from the ladder.
“What is all this stuff? It looks like it hasn’t been touched in years,” Joey said.
Adam and Lucy exchanged a glance and shrugged.
“Don’t look at me. I’ve never been up here,” Jessica said. She ran a fingertip along the top of a box and wrinkled her nose.
Joey snorted. “Please, like you’re in the running for the cover of Good Housekeeping.” She fished her phone out of her pocket. No signal. She moved closer to the window, having to crouch down on account of the sloping roofline overhead. One bar. She lowered herself to sit on the floor and made the call, trying not to focus on how little space there was over her head.
The line rang and rang, then rolled over to voicemail. Cursing, Joey hung up and called again. “Come on, come on… pick up, it’s not that late.”
She had to redial a third time, but this time he answered. “Hello?”
“Oh, thank god. Dean, I need your help.”
“Joey?” He sounded half-asleep. She heard sheets rustle on the other end. “It’s two-thirty in the morning.”
“I know, sorry. But it’s important. I need a spiritual consultation. I’ll PayPal you in the morning, if I survive the night.”
“What’s up?” He sounded more awake now.
“I’ve got a vengeful spirit on the loose out here, looking for revenge. What do I do?”
“You’re seeing ghosts?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Sort of. It’s been possessing people. And corpses. Did you know they could possess corpses?” She shot a belated but apologetic glance toward the others, mentally kicking herself for calling their recently deceased packmate a corpse.
“Only really fucking strong ones. Shit.” The telltale rasp of skin against stubble told her he was rubbing his face. “Where are you? I’ll come to you.”
“Seattle.”
“Oh.”
She gave him a moment to process that before asking again, “What do I do?”
“You know who it is?”
“Yeah. Well, sort of.”
“Do you know what they want?”
Joey hesitated. Telling him that the ghost wanted revenge for his own murder didn’t seem like a good idea. “Yes.”
He said something, but the line crackled. Joey shifted closer to the window.
“Shit, you’re breaking up. What was that?”
“I said give it to them,” he said.
“I can’t! He wants to kill people.”
“There’s something else. Even the ones that want to kill people have a reason behind it. Something left unfinished, some regret.”
Joey was pretty sure what this particular spirit had left unfinished: the rest of his life. But she couldn’t tell Dean that her friends had killed him. Not on the phone. “What if that doesn’t work?”
“Do you know where he’s buried?”
“Hold on.” Joey looked over at the others. “Do you know where he’s buried?”
“Yes,” Jessica said, then added after a pause, “Approximately.”
Joey’s eyes narrowed. “Approximately?”
Jessica shrugged. Adam and Lucy studied the floor, guilt written all over their faces.
“I don’t want to know,” Dean muttered in her ear. “Okay, this is a last resort, but what you need to do is find the grave and—“
Silence.
“Dean? Dean!” The phone beeped in her ear, signaling the end of the call. She lowered the phone to redial, but the phone’s display showed no signal again. “Fuck!”
She scrambled as close to the window as she could. “Does this open?”
“The window? No,” Adam said. “My phone’s got signal—here.”
Joey took the phone from him, but hers rang before she could look up Dean’s number and dial it manually. Manually. Like some sort of cavewoman. She dropped her phone in her haste to answer and scrambled to answer before the voicemail kicked in. “Dean! I’m here. What do we do once we find the grave?”
“Dig up the body, douse it with salt and—“ Crackle crackle. “That should take care of it, but—“ Crackle. “And be careful not to—“
“Dean! Dean, you’re breaking up.” Joey glanced around frantically, then made a split-second decision and slammed her elbow against the little window. Glass shattered and went everywhere as cold air rushed in. She ducked under the shards of glass clinging to the pane, stuck her head out the window, and pressed the phone to her ear once more.
“…I’m pretty sure it’s painful as hell for the spirit, though, so like I said, last resort.”
“Dean, I didn’t get any of that. Start over.” Joey pushed herself out the window a little farther, feet scrambling against the dusty, glass-strewn floor. Head and shoulders out, she took a deep breath of the crisp night air. Her elbow throbbed, but it was kind of nice to be out in the open air again.
He sighed. “Okay, so I was saying that this is a really shitty thing to do to a ghost, but—“
“Right now, I don’t give a flying fuck. Just tell me how to get rid of this son of a bitch before he kills someone else.” Maybe it was because she was hanging out a third-story window, freezing her nipples off, but her impatience was high. Mostly, she wanted to know what to do before the call broke up again.
“Okay, so dig up the body, douse it with salt, and burn it. Then divide the ashes into three parts and bury one, dump one in water, and—“
Joey didn’t hear whatever he said next, because at that moment, someone tried to shove her out the window. She emitted a startled yelp, dropped Adam’s phone, and grabbed for the window frame, but she was already halfway out the window and dangling precariously over the edge. Somewhere along the way, her phone slipped from her grasp and tumbled end over end, bouncing off parts of the house on the way down.
“Help!”
Footsteps rushed toward her. Glass bit into her palm, but she held on. It became difficult on account of the blood making her hand—not to mention the window frame—slippery as hell. The more she tightened her grip, the more damage the glass did to her hand. She heard footsteps rushing toward her, felt hands gripping her legs to pull her back. A ghostly laugh echoed through the room as the walls closed around her again. Her chest constricted. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest. She scrambled into a crouch and cast a frantic glance around the room. The light had gone out, and now the towering boxes loomed in the darkness.
“Are you okay?” Lucy asked.
Joey swallowed the “no” that wanted to escape. “I dropped my phone. Let’s get out of here.”
She scrambled for the exit like the hounds of hell were on her tail. The others followed close behind her. Despite her terror, instinct brought her feet to a halt at the top of the ladder, and she ushered the three other wolves down ahead of her. Lucy and Jessica went down right away, but Adam balked at the last moment.
“My phone!”
“Just leave it!” Joey called after him, but he was already halfway across the attic.
Joey
waited for him to return, dripping blood on the dusty floor from the stinging cuts across her palm. She glanced down the ladder to where Jessica and Lucy stood, worried faces turned up as they waited for her and Adam to come down.
Then, right before her eyes, the ladder folded itself up and the attic door slammed shut, plunging the space into darkness.
15
Eric was still in the bathtub, but he was awake. A murderous glare greeted them over the edge of said tub. Chris had to admire their resourcefulness: Eric’s wrists and ankles were bound with leather belts and he was gagged with a necktie. Chris wondered whose it was. Eric didn’t seem like a suit-and-tie kind of guy.
“What the hell?” Jessica rushed over and pulled the gag out of Eric’s mouth. “Shit, are you okay? She said you were out, not that you were bound and gagged.”
“Release me. Now,” Eric commanded, and Jessica sprang to obey. Old habits, and all that.
“No,” Chris said, and stepped forward with Joey at his side. “First, we need to talk.”
Jessica paused long enough for Eric to grow impatient. “I’m not talking to you, you piece of shit. This is all your fault.”
Smirking, Chris leaned against the counter and folded his arms. “How do you figure that?”
“Eric, we need to talk. Please,” Jessica said.
“This is mutiny, you know. Insurrection. I won’t forget this,” Eric spat, his eyes on Jessica. She cringed and reached for the belt that bound his feet again. It was smart, starting there. There was only so much he could do with his feet free. His hands were the more dangerous thing, by far.
“Get over yourself,” Joey said, rolling her eyes. “They’re wolves, not your personal army, and the way you’ve been acting, it’s a wonder they’ve put up with you this long.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eric said. “They’re my people. I take care of them. They owe me.”
Joey huffed. “We’ll see about that.”
Once Eric’s feet were free, Jessica helped him stand. His angry eyes shifted from one person to the next, never lingering long. He turned to present his wrists to Jessica, but she stepped back without releasing them. Growling, he turned back and stepped over the edge of the tub.
Joey stepped in front of him and put a hand on his chest. “Whoa there. Jessica needs to talk to you, and you’re gonna listen. Got it?”
A change came over Eric as he collected himself. Somehow, he managed to salvage some semblance of dignity as he stood there in front of the tub with his wrists bound behind his back. Ignoring Joey, he turned his focus to Jessica.
“I’m listening,” he said, and in that moment, he actually appeared genuinely patient and interested. Chris didn’t doubt it was a front, but he decided to watch and wait.
“It’s the Butcher, Eric,” Jessica said. “He’s back, and he wants revenge. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. He’s possessing people, making them do things. Hurt each other. Hurt themselves.”
“Did something else happen?”
“Yes.” She didn’t know the whole story, though. Her eyes flicked to Joey.
“He threatened me, made Adam slit his wrist, then jump out the window,” she said.
Eric frowned. “Is Adam…”
“Dead? No. I caught him, and we made it back inside. Ben’s tending to his wound, but it’s only a matter of time before—“
Jessica said, “It’s only a matter of time before someone else dies. Eric, we need to find a way to stop him, and we can’t do it if you’re fighting us. Please help us.”
Eric glanced between the three of them, but his eyes settled on Jessica again. “How do you know that’s what happened?”
“Because I was there,” Joey said testily. “I saw it happen, and I’m telling you that’s what happened. Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but we’ve got some experience with this kind of thing. It’s real. It can happen.”
Chris held his tongue, not wanting to say too much or reveal his own role in all this. He studied Eric while the other man considered what had been set in front of him.
“Fine,” Eric said eventually. “If you’re the experts, what do we do?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I’m not entirely sure,” Joey admitted.
Eric smirked and arched a brow. “Huh. I thought you knew everything,” he said, the words dripping with sarcasm.
Joey snorted, fixing him with a level glare. “How’d you like to spend the rest of the night in the tub?”
The Alpha’s lips twitched in a smile. “I thought you’d never ask.” He caught Chris’s eyes briefly, but Chris merely smirked. He felt no need to rise to that particular bait, not now that he knew the truth of things. It wasn’t even a blip on his radar.
Joey, on the other hand, was clearly annoyed. Her left eye twitched as she eyed Eric, as sure a sign as there ever was. “Are you on board or not? Because as little problem as I have leaving you here to fend for yourself if Bob the Butcher shows up, the rest of your people are another matter.”
Eric laughed. “Bob the Butcher?”
Joey stepped forward and punched him in the stomach, stealing him of the breath he needed to keep laughing. Jessica lunged for her and grabbed her arm, but Joey threw her off, sending her careening into the wall. “Don’t touch me.”
Doubled over, Eric wheezed a reedy laugh and sank onto the edge of the tub like he’d meant to do that all along. “Sorry, I just can’t help but picture him with a tool belt full of cleavers or something. But yeah, I’m on board. As much as I can be, when we don’t have a plan or any idea what to do.”
Jessica looked to Chris, a question in her eyes. He nodded to her, and she moved to unfasten the belt cinched around Eric’s wrists. Once he was free, he rubbed his wrists and stood again. “So, about that lack of plan…”
“Dean said we should try to find out what he wants—other than revenge killing—and see if we can get it to him. Bob said something about a wife and child, so maybe that’s the key. There was a Plan B, but I didn’t get all of it. I need to go find my phone and call him again.”
“Dean?” Eric asked.
“My spiritual advisor. He’s a medium.”
Eric snorted a laugh, but let it go. “What happened to your phone?”
“It fell out the attic window when Bob tried to shove me out it.”
Eric smiled, but the expression was at odds with his words. “A man after my own heart.”
Chris really didn’t like this guy. “We should get back to the others,” he suggested.
Joey nodded. “Agreed.”
“Do you know where he’s buried?” Jessica asked, looking to Eric.
Eric nodded. “Yeah, why?”
“Because Plan B starts with digging him up, so that’s going to become an important piece of information,” Joey said. Turning, she caught Chris’s eyes and lifted her brows. He shrugged and walked with her to the door, but froze when the sound of flesh smacking flesh echoed through the small room.
They turned as one to see Jessica turn her head back to center, recovering from a backhanded blow.
“Son of a bitch!” Seeing red, Chris surged forward and grabbed Eric by the front of the shirt. “What the fuck was that? Don’t you dare lay another hand on her. On any of them. Do you hear me?” The depths of his rage surprised even him. He wanted to smash the asshole’s face in, and the fact that Eric merely smirked just made that impulse stronger.
“It’s okay,” Jessica said. He felt the weight of her hand on his arm. “I’m fine.”
Chris growled. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about it was okay. He glared at Eric, willing him to speak. When he didn’t, Chris shook him by the shirt. “Do you hear me?”
“Sure, I hear you. I just don’t give a fuck. You have no authority over me, unless you want to make a challenge.” There was a dark, dangerous glint in his eyes. That, combined with Itsuo’s earlier warning, gave Chris pause.
“I don’t have to make a challenge to kick your ass, yo
u arrogant, self-righteous bully.”
“I’d love to see you try.”
Chris’s fists tightened on Eric’s T-shirt. He wanted to bash the man’s skull against the tiled wall until it ran red with blood. The only thing that stopped him was a hand on his other arm. Joey’s hand.
“Chris,” she said, pulling gently. “Let him go.”
She was like a lifeline pulling him back from the place where he was drowning in rage. He’d never felt so angry in his life. It was like he was back on the astral plane. Out of control. That thought finally made him release Eric, though he shoved him hard enough that Eric stumbled back, encountered the edge of the tub, and fell into it, arms and legs akimbo.
Chris looked down at him, contempt seeping in around the edges of the rage. He let Joey draw him away, out of the bathroom and into Eric’s opulent man cave. Jessica followed them. It was okay, she’d said, but apparently not okay enough that she wanted to be left alone with Eric.
“Hey, are you okay?” Joey reached up to take his face between her hands.
He pulled away, shaking his head, then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and took a deep breath. “Just give me a minute.”
She did, but she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him while she did it. After a few seconds passed in silence, he curled his arms around her and held her against his chest, burying his nose in her hair.
“Tell me he never did that to you,” he whispered.
“He never did that to me,” Joey said. The steel in her tone said that it wasn’t merely an appeasement. She wouldn’t have stood for it, acting or no.
“You two want the room? Come on, Jess. I’m sure it won’t be more than five minutes.”
Chris lifted his head, met Eric’s eyes over the top of Joey’s head, and gave him the finger. Eric smirked and sauntered for the door with Jessica in tow. Sighing, Chris held on to Joey for a little while longer, breathing in her familiar scent. It soothed him like a balm for the soul.
