“What is it?” Macklin strides over, grabbing my left hand and pulling it toward him. “When did you get a new tattoo?”
“I didn’t. This wasn’t here before.”
“She marked you?” Cole exclaims.
“I’m not sure what this is or who did it, but there’s only one person who might be able to give us some answers,” I respond thoughtfully. “Now we just have to convince her to show herself again.”
“We’ll need to find a way to communicate with her since she won’t be able to just answer the questions outright. Maybe we keep it simple for this first attempt. A yes or no interrogation,” Macklin rambles, already creating a list of questions in his head for the lovely little ghost.
“What, Mack, no Ouija board?”
“Hardy har har. Aren’t you hilarious,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Then he yawns. “I’m a tech genius, Knox. Not a teenage girl. I’ll figure something out.”
“Okay. We all need some sleep if we’re going to draw her out again. I want everyone ready and alert at all times,” Cole demands.
“You got it, boss.” What I don’t say is that my soul is already restless, wanting to reestablish the connection with her. The tug I felt earlier has nothing on the deep-seated need to see her again that courses through my veins like an unrelenting wildfire. Hot and dangerous. Ready to consume me if I’m not careful.
What the fuck has she done to me?
Figures. You sleep with a guy one time, and he gets all possessive and shit, marking his territory. Want to know the real kicker? We didn’t even have sex! No orgasms for this ghost girl. What the hell? Come on, universe…can’t a ghost girl get some action? I’ve got to say, I feel a little cheated. I mean, he got an orgasm thanks to my generosity. It’s only fair that he share the love, right? Sharing is caring after all.
The dark line broken by two small dots in the center is staring at me from my left bicep. This strange voodoo stuff has me all sorts of weirded out. My fingers trace over the line again and again as if it can tell me how it got there. Who knew ghost girls could get tattoos? I sure as hell didn’t, and something tells me this one isn’t your average ink. More mysteries to solve. Fantastic.
With my finger still trailing over the heavy black line, I’m suddenly hit with a sensation I barely recognize. Skin on skin contact. Touching my other hand, I hope for a miracle but sadly feel nothing. Yet when I touch the tattoo again, I feel it. It’s a warmth where there was only coldness for so long. It’s the most amazing feeling ever. Maybe this tattoo isn’t so bad after all. I may not know what’s happening to me, but it’s about time I get some perks.
When I cozied up next to Knox, I hadn’t intended on falling asleep. Honestly, I didn’t even know I could. I just wanted to be close to him, this man who’s the first to sense more than my mere haunted existence, the first to sense me in over ten years. Huh, ten years. How do I suddenly know that when time has always been an abstract concept for me? We have a connection, him and me. He gets me, which I know, I know, sounds like some cheesy rom-com cliché, but this is the real deal. He knows what I’m feeling almost before I do. And on some strange level, I get him too. A soul-deep familiarity touches the very core of my being every time he's near.
As I lounge on the covered, antique Chesterfield settee in my little attic hideaway, I wonder for the umpteenth time what it is about these guys that calls to me. Hundreds of people have passed through this house, and I haven’t spared them so much as a second glance. These guys though. There’s just something about them. As if they’re my first drink of water after being stranded in the desert...and no way am I going to share.
Then why the hell are you sitting up here when you should be down there? a little voice in my head asks. Honestly, I’m not sure how to answer that. Being near them soothes my soul, but it also freaks me the fuck out. These dueling emotions of want and wariness are driving me a little crazy, to be honest.
Just as I’m really getting introspective, the tattoo on my arm starts to burn, then itch. What the fuck? Did he give me some weird STD? Though I guess it couldn’t be an STD because again - no sex. Maybe GTD – ghostly transmitted disease? Ew!
My body goes hazy, or at least, hazier than usual, and I feel like I’m being sucked into a vortex. The next thing I know, I’m standing in the middle of the coffee table in the study, staring right into Knox’s beautiful hazel eyes. He doesn’t seem to see me at the moment, which I’m slightly grateful for considering he isn’t alone. The other four are with him, and that’s just a tad bit intimidating.
He’s rubbing his wrist like crazy, and I notice a dark line that looks suspiciously like mine. Oh! Matching couple’s tattoos. Isn’t that sweet? I mean, a little premature considering we just met, but hey...ghost girls can’t be picky, right?
Then I remember my tattoo burning like someone was trying to scrub it off with sandpaper. Coincidence? I think not.
Wait a damn minute! Is this some sort of ghostly summoning device? Can he force me to appear with a quick touch of his tattoo? Is that what his hand was doing when I woke up next to him? Here I was thinking he was trying to cop a feel, which I totally would’ve been okay with, but this? Oh hell no! I definitely didn’t agree to this shit, and he’s going to need to reverse it. Now.
I take a step out of the coffee table, because that’s just weird, throw my hands on my hips, and take in the room around me. The study has always been one of my favorite places in the house, with its window seat where I could watch the living world go by. Now, it’s even more homey. The covers are off the furniture, and a small fire is lighting up the room, plus the amount of eye candy doesn’t hurt either.
The clock on the wall shows that it’s barely past five in the morning. I do a quick scan over the guys, noting early mornings don’t look bad on any of them. Each is holding a mug, and I’m hella pissed that they get to enjoy coffee when I’m stuck here in the ether with nothing but some weird ghostly voodoo on my arm.
“Here we go again, guys,” I hear Knox murmur.
Oh yeah. He knows I’m pissed off. See? He gets me.
“Let me guess, the temperamental little ghost is gracing us with her presence?” questions the one with black hair and ice blue eyes - Cole, if I remember correctly.
He’s dressed all in black again, but damn does he make monochrome look good.
“Can you see if you can get her to appear for all of us? It’s time we get some answers.”
What is his problem, anyway? If he’s not making demands, he’s asking questions. Demands, questions, more demands. Is he conversationally illiterate or something? Are those the only two forms of speech he’s capable of?
When I stop staring at those pretty blues, because at least those eyes make up for his serious personality flaws, I realize everyone is quiet and looking around the room.
“All right, guys. I know you can’t hear a damn thing I’m saying, but we need to get a few things straight here.” I pause and take a deep breath, ready to go into a rant that will ultimately lead nowhere since, you know, invisibility is kind of my thing.
“Can anyone feel anything?” Macklin interrupts. “The EMF meter is showing some significant spikes and a temperature drop, but are there any physical manifestations?”
I can tell from the look on his face that this guy gets super excited about his research. His hair is still tousled, and his button-down baby blue dress shirt is misbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s an adorably hunky mess - from his glasses down to his bare feet. I didn’t know forearms could entice, but watching his muscles flex as he messes with his gadgets is seriously doing something for me.
“Come on! Seriously?” Knox asks the room, his arms thrown in the air like he’s exasperated with me. “Your sex drive is higher than the twins’, and that’s damn near impossible.”
Thank fuck they can’t see me because my blush has probably got me as red as a tomato. One word. Horny. I just can’t seem to help myself around these guys.
&
nbsp; “Our ghost woman is a little dirty, is she?” quips one of the twins.
“I can make her a little dirtier,” offers the other.
Oh yeah. These two are trouble with their matching white tees and jeans that fit just a little too well. The three of us together…
“For fuck’s sake. We’re never going to get anything accomplished here. Fate’s as easily distracted as they are,” mutters Knox.
I turn to glare in his direction. It’s not nearly as effective as I’d like considering he can’t see me, which pisses me off more.
“Fine. You want to get something accomplished? Then hell, let’s get something accomplished,” I sneer, really starting to get into this. I’m pacing in front of the window seat now, and I swear, if I could crack my knuckles, I sure as hell would. Arms start flailing around, hands gesturing wildly, let the rant begin.
“I’m here, living my best ghost girl life until the five of you come along and totally destroy my peace and quiet. Then you,” I point directly at Knox, “form some sort of connection with me - without my permission, I might add. Make me feel like I’m not alone for the first time in way too long. And when I come down later to find you, you’re lounging on the sofa looking all delectable and shit. How the hell am I supposed to pass that up? So what do I do? I give you an orgasm knowing damn well I won’t get one in return, but I’m generous like that. It was basically torture. You get the happy ending, and I get zilch. But do you give that a second thought? No. Then I accidentally fall asleep in your bed because I can’t help but be near you, and when I wake up, you can actually see me...” My voice trails off, though that’s lost on everyone but me.
Pausing just long enough to relive that moment, I continue on, softer now. “You can’t even begin to imagine what that felt like. To be seen. For the first time in years, I felt like I was alive again.”
I stop for a second, turning to stare out the window, trying to get a handle on my emotions. If I could cry, tears would be streaming down my cheeks. But I can’t, so I stand there and let the emotions roll through me. The room is silent, but they’re probably just waiting for Knox to give them the play-by-play. I take a deep breath and exhale. Then I do it again. I glance down and notice the tattoo, and suddenly I remember what pissed me off in the first place.
I spin around, pointing right at the dark line on my arm.
“And then I see this. What the fuck? You put some sort of goddamn summoning device on me? What am I? Some sort of suped up science experiment to you? Think you can play around with me and make me appear at your beck and call? Well, I’ve got news for you. I don’t jump for anyone. I’m my own damn woman, and you will reverse whatever the hell this is right the fuck now! Do you hear me?”
By this point my chest is heaving with anger, and I’ve managed to reappear right in front of Knox. I’m staring at him with my finger damn near poking through his chest, our noses just an inch apart.
And he’s staring right back with wide eyes.
I risk a glance around the room, suddenly realizing I’m the center of attention.
They. Can. All. See. Me.
Fuck!
My own eyes widen, and my mouth opens, but I close it quickly, not knowing what to do or say. My hand drops to my side, and I do a quick scan to make sure I’m not standing here naked. What can I say? Attire or lack thereof isn’t always a huge priority when one is invisible. Luckily, I’m in a pair of skinny jeans and another white slogan t-shirt. This one says Ghost Girls Don’t Get Mad. They Get Even.
One of the few perks of my current situation. I can manifest whatever clothing I want. It’s pretty cool, actually, but even that lost its excitement years ago.
They’re all still staring at me, so I take a small step back and do something completely embarrassing.
“Um...hi!” I say and give an awkward little wave. Like I’m a damn beauty queen in some sort of fucking pageant. I grimace slightly.
Quite the first impression, Fate.
And cue eye roll because I’m just hopeless. Socially inept. Eh, solitude does strange things to people.
Knox is the first to break the silence. He shoves his hands into the back pockets of his blue jeans, the move stretching his black long-sleeved shirt tight across his chest. And what a nice chest it is too. I kind of want to run my hands down it to feel up the eight pack I know is also hiding there after last night.
“Focus, little ghost,” he murmurs, a smirk tilting those full lips of his.
This time, all the guys chuckle because...they can see me, and they just watched me eye fuck Knox. Fabulous. All of them except Cole, that is. What’s his malfunction anyways? Do I even care?
“Brothers, this is Fate. Fate, my brothers,” Knox says as he begins to point to each one. “This fucker to my right is Cole. Self-proclaimed leader of our merry band of misfits.”
Cole nods his head, and I do another awkward hand wave because what else can I do?
“This hot mess to my left is Macklin, resident genius.”
“Hello! We have so many questions for you. Like how long have you…”
“Dude, we’re not going there yet. Hold your damn horses,” Knox mutters.
“Sorry,” Macklin apologizes, an adorable blush staining his cheeks.
”Nice to meet you,” I sound out slowly, hoping he can read my lips and understand what I’m saying. I’m graced with a small smile in return.
“And finally those two numbnuts next to Mack. Thing One and Thing Two - otherwise known as Thad and Levi. Since they’re almost impossible to tell apart, just look for the tats. Right arm, Thad. Left arm, Levi.”
“Damn, woman! You’re smokin’ hot. You and I could have some fun together for su—” He’s cut off by a smack to the back of the head. “What the hell? I didn’t do shit that time!”
“Nice to meet you, Fate! I apologize for my uncouth brother. We really do have manners. He just forgets his most of the time,” Levi says.
I laugh, because the twins are like my spirit animals. Lots of fun to be had there, I’m sure.
In the quiet that follows, Macklin looks at Cole, who gives him a small nod. The man really is in charge. Wonder if that applies in all circumstances...like the bedroom. Before I can let my mind wander down that rabbit hole, Macklin starts the inquiry.
“Fate, I’ve got to be honest and admit that we’ve never done this before - communicate with a spirit in real time, I mean. You’re a first for us. Most of the time, spirits can’t manifest enough to make talking a possibility. And of course, the twins have a tendency to act first and ask questions later.”
“Hey now, we always give them a chance to do things the easy way,” Thad grumbles.
“Most of the time,” Levi quips.
“Some of the time,” Thad retorts.
“None of the time, if it were up to you,” Levi chuckles.
“Seriously, what is wrong with you two? Ignore them. We’re going to do our best to help you. Since we can’t hear you, we’re going to stick to yes and no questions to make it easy, though I have a digital voice recorder on. It could pick up anything you try to say that falls outside our normal hearing range. Is that ok?”
I nod.
“Ok, good. I guess the first thing we’d like to know is if you know why you’re here?”
I shake my head since I have no idea.
“Ok. Do you know how long you’ve been here?”
I nod, holding up all ten fingers.
“Ten...months?” he asks.
Another shake of the head.
“Years?”
A nod.
“Wow. You’ve been here a long time.” He shares a quick look with Knox that I can’t decipher, before turning back to me. “Your level of awareness is extraordinary.”
Extraordinary is not the word I would use to describe my time here. Though I guess it’s pretty accurate when you consider the fact that I didn’t know it had been ten years until these guys showed up and my powers kicked up a notch.
I w
alk back through the coffee table, admittedly a little weird now that I have a whole room watching me, and plop my ass down on the window seat. My expression must give my thoughts away because he quickly back tracks.
“I’m sure it’s been hard for you. All that time alone. Hasn’t there been anyone else that’s come along? Other spirits, even?”
A quick shake of my head is all I can manage. The sadness inside me wells up, close to overflowing. My head drops, and I study the pattern of the cushion beneath me through my transparent legs. Anything to distract myself from the reality of being utterly alone.
“Easy, Mack,” Knox says softly. “This is hard for her. Her anguish is damn near drowning me.”
“I’m so sorry, Fate. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through. Is this place familiar?”
I shake my head.
“You just appeared here, ten years ago.”
I simply nod. He’s not asking. More like confirming the information he’s already piecing together.
One glance at my arm and my determination pushes aside my sorrow. I raise my hand, like I’m in school or something, needing answers to some questions myself.
“You have a question?” he asks, seemingly surprised.
Slowly, I say, “What. The. Fuck. Is. This?” I punctuate each word with a jab at my damn bicep.
“Bro, the way those lips say fuck is damn hot. Can I keep her?” Thad begs.
“Shut up, dipshit!” replies Levi, with a punch to Thad’s arm.
“So you have a mark as well,” ponders Macklin, apparently not noticing my rising temper.
“It’s his fault!” I growl, jumping to my feet and pointing at Knox angrily. Walking closer, I continue, “And he needs to fix it, right now!”
“Little ghost, we can’t hear you, so aim that righteous anger somewhere else. You did this to me,” Knox asserts, pointing first at me, then himself.
Staring up at those hazel eyes, I order myself not to be distracted and pulled into their depths, and quickly look to Macklin, willing him to understand.
I point to Knox. Point to the tattoo on my arm. Rub my wrist in an imitation of Knox’s gesture. Then fling both hands down toward the floor where I stand.
A Fate Unknown: A PNR, Why Choose Novel (The Ghost Girl Series Book 1) Page 5
