A Deal with Death

by Carrie Pulkinen

  “Why doesn’t he leave?”

  He let out a dry chuckle. “He couldn’t if he wanted to. Werewolves mate for life. So I made a promise to myself when I was old enough to understand what was going on that I would never let that happen to me. I would never take a mate unless my wolf was one hundred percent on board. Unless I was certain she was my fate-bound.”

  “I see.” Her jaw tightened, and she inclined her chin. “Because you think you’ve inherited your mom’s wandering eye?”

  “I don’t want to be that way. I’m not, but…it’s the only explanation for…” He lowered his gaze. God, he didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t have a choice.

  She pulled from his grasp and folded her hands in her lap. “What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never met her.” He pleaded with his eyes, willing her to understand.

  She laughed, unbelieving. “What?”

  “About three months ago, I started having dreams about this woman. In my dreams, my wolf has claimed her. My wolf was convinced she was my fate-bound, that I would find her one day…until I knocked on your door. Now he wants you both, and that’s not possible. You can’t have two fate-bounds, but the stupid beast won’t let go of the dream lady.”

  Silence stretched between them as she processed his confession, her mouth screwing up on the side like she was chewing the inside of her cheek. He scrambled for something else to say, but she finally responded, “Where does that leave us then?”

  He took her hands. “Odette, if I were just a man, I’d get down on one knee right now. I do love you. My wolf loves you, but I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t take you as my mate while my wolf insists there’s another. What if I meet her? What if…?” He couldn’t finish the sentence. He’d be an idiot to leave Odette. She was meant to be his.

  “You can’t help him, Nicolas.” She shook her head. “Our ghost friend wants to talk to you, but…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He thinks I’m his lover…the one who murdered him, though he doesn’t know she did it.”

  He looked toward the empty space where she’d been speaking. “If he thinks he can help, I’d like to hear what he has to say.” He’d take anything he could get at the moment. Hell, it couldn’t hurt.

  “He can’t say much. He’s strong, but he’s so confused.” She narrowed her eyes. “I haven’t seen him act this way since the first time you came into the house. He’s so frantic.”

  “What’s he saying?”

  She shook her head. “‘He knows me.’” She looked at James. “He keeps repeating it. He thinks you know him.”

  “Damn it, I wish I could hear him. If he really can help…” If the ghost had even a sliver of information—a single piece of this massive jigsaw puzzle—James would do anything to learn it. He straightened and glanced from Odette to the place where she stared. “Can’t you help him? Give him some of that power you told me about? Be the conduit so he can show himself to me?”

  She stood and paced toward the bed. “No. I told you I don’t use my powers like that. No one should have that kind of control over the dead.”

  “You don’t have to control him. Just give him a little boost. Open up like when you were trying to scare me the other day.” As he rose and moved toward her, an icy emptiness enveloped him. A feeling of familiarity clawed through his chest, making his heart race. A tiny piece of an image flashed through his mind, the scene so recognizable it felt like it had happened yesterday. A woman…the dream woman…stepping out of a horse-drawn carriage.

  He jerked to the side, and the cold dissipated, taking the image with it. Warmth slowly returned to his skin, and he rubbed at the goose bumps on his arms.

  That image felt nothing like the ones he’d seen before. The recognition made it seem as though it hadn’t come from his own mind, but rather it had been waiting for him inside the pocket of cold as if the ghost had generated it. His wolf stirred, hovering near the surface, as anxious for answers as James was himself.

  “Did he try to jump me again?”

  Odette sank onto the edge of the bed. “No. You walked through him. He won’t jump you.”

  “He won’t or he can’t because you told him not to? He hasn’t bothered me again because you’re already controlling him, aren’t you?” And if she was controlling him, surely, she could find out what he knew.

  She lifted her hands in a show of innocence. “I had no choice. He knocked you out and was trying to get inside you. What was I supposed to do?”

  Sitting on the bed beside her, he took her hand and inhaled a slow, deep breath. “Thank you for that.” He had to stay calm despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The ghost could be the answer to his problems. If Nicolas knew something…anything about the dream woman or how he could get his wolf to forget about her, James needed to hear it.

  And Odette could make that happen.

  “Do you trust me?” He held her gaze, searching for signs of doubt.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Release him. Let him jump me. You don’t have to give him any more power, but you have to let him go. I need to know what he has to say.”

  “No.” Fear flashed in her dark-brown eyes. “It’s not safe. Ghosts that can get inside people like that…they can make you crazy.”

  James balanced on the edge of crazy on a daily basis. He’d take his chances. “He won’t hurt me.”

  Her mouth hung open in disbelief before she snapped it shut. “He’s already knocked you out. There’s no telling what else he might have done to you if I hadn’t ordered him to leave you alone.”

  James dropped to his knees on the floor and faced her. “Because I wasn’t ready. This time, I’ll be prepared for impact, and I know you won’t let him hurt me.” Resting his hands on her thighs, he gently squeezed them. “I trust you to keep me safe.”

  Pressing her lips together, she let out a slow breath through her nose. “You’re insane. You know that?”

  He rose to his feet. “I’ve never claimed otherwise.”

  Standing, she gestured to the bed. “Lie down. You’ll probably lose control of your muscles while he’s in you.”

  He crawled onto the bed and lay on his back, fisting his hands at his sides to stop them from trembling. She was right, he was nuts for trying this, especially after what happened the first time. But something deep inside him said he had to.

  She rested her fingertips on his shoulder. “The second you show any signs of distress, I’m pulling him out. Whether you’ve gotten the information you’re looking for or not.”

  He nodded in reply, afraid a tremble in his voice would betray his apprehension.

  Turning to face the empty room, Odette pushed her shoulders back. “You be gentle with him. Go ahead and tell him what you need to say.”

  In less than a second, the temperature around him plummeted. James gasped as the sensation of 220 volts surged through his veins, and his body stiffened like a corpse in rigor mortis before his limbs fell limp at his sides. He tried to move. To fist his hand or open his eyes, but his body was no longer his.

  The shock subsided to a mild tingle, and the spirit’s energy gathered in his mind, swirling and undulating like a storm on the sea. Emotions not his own rolled through his body—confusion, betrayal, despair—until an image took form behind his eyes.

  “Serafine.” His mouth formed the word before the thought registered, and her image grounded him, clearing his thoughts and allowing his mind and Nicolas’s to join. For that brief moment, for the first time in his life, he felt a sensation he’d never experienced before.

  He felt whole.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “James?” Odette rested a hand on his chest and patted his cheek. He didn’t move. “Wake up. Come back to me.”

  She shook his shoulder, and his head lolled to the side, his eyes darting back and forth beneath his lids. “Please wake up.” Her throat tightened, and she raked in a ragged breath as tears formed in her eyes.

  Wha
t had she done? Allowing Nicolas to jump James, even for a minute, was an idiotic move. She’d let the ghost linger too long. She should have pulled him out at the first twitch of James’s arm, but the way he’d said, “Serafine,” had frozen her.

  The name had rolled off his tongue like he’d said it a thousand times, and so much adoration had filled those three syllables, her breath had stilled in her chest. He’d sounded like a man in love.

  Now she was paying the price for her hesitation. No, James was paying the price.

  “James?” She shook him again, harder this time, but he still didn’t respond. The pressure of a hand on her shoulder startled her, and she snapped around to find Nicolas hovering next to the bed. “What did you do to him?” More venom laced her voice than she’d intended, but if James didn’t recover, she’d unleash her wrath on the spirit. How dare he harm her soulmate?

  “Well?” She shot to her feet, fisting her hands at her sides. “What did you show him? Why won’t he wake up?” Her voice hitched on the last word, and she covered her mouth as Nicolas faded away.

  “Oh, that’s perfect. Run away when things get heated.” She would fix this. Her powers had caused enough harm to last twenty lifetimes, and she never should have used them with James. She knew better. Please, Baron, I can’t do this alone.

  Hooking her arms through James’s, she tugged him off the bed and dragged him through the house. He was 190 pounds of pure muscle, but she had enough adrenaline coursing through her veins to give her the strength to get him out the door.

  Getting him down the back steps proved the problem. His weight shifted as she descended, and her foot missed the second step. She fell backward, taking him down with her, and he landed on her chest, her right arm barely keeping his head from smacking the concrete. Sharp pain shot through her spine, the impact of the slab on her back and the pressure of his weight on top of her making her rib cage feel like it would snap.

  She lay still, staring at the sky as the fluffy, white clouds drifted into the shape of a wolf head. Another puff of cumulus started to take the form of a person’s body beneath, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She had no time for delirium. As she opened her lids, the shapes her mind had formed vanished, leaving nothing but tufts of cotton candy in the sky.

  James moaned, sending her heart into a sprint. Sitting up, she wiggled from beneath him and held his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it from his forehead, and he shook his head, his brow furrowing as if he were in pain.

  “Come on, love, open your eyes for me.” Her insides quivered, her mouth going dry as her fear tipped to panic. He should’ve been okay by now.

  He continued shaking his head, his lids fluttering as if they might open, but he didn’t wake up.

  Scrambling to her feet, she dragged him to her car and opened the back door. Sliding herself in first, she pulled him onto the back seat and exited the other side. With both doors shut, she climbed into the driver’s seat and sped toward the French Quarter.

  She called Natasha on the way, and when she arrived at the temple, two vodouisants met her outside and carried James into the back room, laying him on the couch.

  The men left, and Odette knelt at James’s side, holding his hand and resting her other on his forehead, cursing herself for letting this happen. “Stay with me, James.” Her voice cracked.

  “What happened?” Natasha gathered an armful of herb jars from a cabinet and set them on the table by her mortar and pestle.

  Odette stared at his handsome face. “The ghost. Nicolas wanted to communicate with James, and James…” She sucked in a shaky breath. “He insisted, so I let the ghost jump him.” She looked at the Mambo. “James trusted me to keep him safe, and look at him. Look what I did.” The tears collecting on her lower lids spilled down her cheeks, her lip trembling as she watched Natasha work.

  Natasha ground a mix of herbs in the bowl, and the sharp scent of rosemary filled the air. “You said you let him? You were stopping him from doing it before?”

  Biting her bottom lip, Odette nodded. The Mambo didn’t say a word, but the expression on her face conveyed her thoughts: So, you are using your powers.

  “Can you help him?” Her voice sounded tiny, like the helpless little girl sitting in the road by her momma’s body.

  “Of course.” Natasha mixed the herbs with a light blue liquid and poured the concoction into a shot glass. “This will help get him out of his head and into the present.”

  Tugging on his chin, Odette trickled the potion into James’s mouth. As she emptied the container, he swallowed, and a deep moan rumbled from his chest.

  Natasha beat a rhythm on a small drum—two slow taps followed by a quick percussion—and chanted a prayer in Haitian Creole. Her magic filled the room, the buzzing electricity prickling across Odette’s skin, swirling around her and seeping into James.

  Odette pressed her lips to her soulmate’s cheek, and his eyes opened.

  James gasped as his lids flew open, the cool air raking down his throat like forty-grit sandpaper. “Serafine,” he croaked, his heart pounding relentlessly as his mind scrambled to comprehend what he’d seen. The sound of his own name swirled delicately in his ears, and familiar energy vibrated on his skin as soft hands cupped his face.

  He squinted through his blurred vision until a figure came into focus. “Odette?” He blinked and then stared into her dark eyes, her presence grounding him, bringing the world into focus.

  He glanced about the room, but nothing looked familiar. An old wood and glass cupboard lined one of the walls, and an array of hand-made burlap dolls sat upon one of the shelves. Colored glass jars filled the rest of the space, and as he swept his gaze over his surroundings, he took in an old tribal-looking drum set and an altar of some sort against the other wall. “Where are we?” He focused on Odette, and a look of relief smoothed the tight lines in her forehead.

  “We’re at the temple. Are you okay?”

  He stared at her for a moment, and the confusion clouding his thoughts dissipated like a fog burned away by the sun. “I’m fine.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the couch and resting his feet on the floor. The room tilted on its axis, and he closed his eyes until the dizzying sensation subsided.

  Odette sat next to him, taking his hands in a firm grip. “Do you remember anything?”

  He smiled, and his heart filled with joy, making his chest feel like it would explode. He remembered everything. “It all makes sense now.”

  “What makes sense?” Natasha put a bowl in a cabinet and closed the door. He hadn’t noticed her presence before.

  “Everything.” He looked at the Mambo. “The puzzle. The pieces fit. The woman from my dreams.” Turning to Odette, he cupped her cheek in his hand. “She’s you. That’s why Nicolas called you Serafine. You are Serafine.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not possible. You would have to be…” Her eyes widened.

  “I was Nicolas, and you were Serafine. It makes perfect sense. I’m connected to the ghost, and when you bought that house, that’s when I started seeing Serafine in my dreams. Because Nicolas saw you.”

  Her mouth hung open, but she didn’t speak.

  “When he got inside me, for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like a piece of me was missing. My wolf recognized it too. Nicolas is part of me. The logic doesn’t make sense, I know. But I feel it in my bones. How can a ghost of my former self be haunting your house when I’m here in the flesh?”

  The muscles of her throat worked as she swallowed and glanced at Natasha. “Did you see how you died?”

  “I didn’t really see anything, aside from her face. I felt his emotions: love, betrayal, desperation. As our minds connected, I knew things. Like how I know you’re Serafine.”

  “She killed him. That’s why he felt betrayal. If a person’s death is tragic enough, his soul can fracture.” She shook her head. “It’s so rare. I’ve heard of it happening, but I’ve never met a ghost who had a soul shar
d before. If you really are Nicolas, then a piece of him stayed behind when he died, and when you reincarnated… James, you’ve always felt incomplete because the ghost has a piece of your soul.”

  He stopped breathing mid-inhale as her words settled over him. He’d always felt like a piece of himself was missing, because it was. And that missing piece was the answer to it all. He didn’t heal as fast as a normal werewolf, not because his mother was human, but because he himself wasn’t complete. And his wolf didn’t want two mates. The beast had claimed Serafine because of Nicolas’s memories…and Odette was Serafine.

  Holy hell. He’d finally found his fate-bound.

  “James?”

  His name on Odette’s lips pulled him from his thoughts, and he finished a deep inhale. “This is fantastic.” He laughed and pulled her into a hug.

  “No, it’s not.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  “But it is.” Gripping her shoulders, he pushed her far enough away to look at her. “My wolf doesn’t want another woman. It’s always been you. You are my fate-bound.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” She trailed her fingers down the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his.

  Warm and soft, the gentle caress raised goose bumps on his skin and his heart thrummed in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. Her lips parted for him, and he drank her in, reveling in the overwhelming sensations of love. She was his now, and he would do everything in his power to protect her.

  She broke from the kiss, clearing her throat and straightening her shirt as she cast a glance to Natasha, who fought a smile.

  “Sorry about that,” he said to the Mambo. “Got a little carried away.”

  “No need to apologize.” Natasha’s smile faded as she glanced at Odette and gestured with her head to James.