by David Green
I’ve acted like a schmuck with Rosa too many times, and I’m not about to repeat my mistakes if I can help it.
“I’ve blown it so many times with Rosa. Too fu— Too stubborn. Too much baggage, but she keeps giving me chances, you know? More than she should. All I do to repay her is let her down. I shoulda died the other night—again—but I’m gonna do better. Look forward. I’m living for a reason, and Rosa’s part of that. If she’d turned right that night when I was bleeding out in that alleyway…”
“You held that against her,” Diana says. She doesn’t need empathy to figure that out.
Yeah, I did hold it against her. And then, at the Wheelers’ place, I cost myself my own place in Heaven. Rosa didn’t do that. I did. It’s time to stop blaming her.
Instead, I glance around Tony’s and admire Rosa’s choice of restaurant. It’s busy. Swanky in a relaxed, low-key kind of way. The guys are all in shirtsleeves and slacks, the girls in fitted dresses or pantsuits. A pianist taps out some light jazz in the corner and, somehow, it’s almost ghost free, Diana aside.
You go anywhere in Haven city, you’ll see the dead. It’s just the way things are. Tony’s ain’t no exception, but the ones here fade into the background. There’s nothing horrific about them; there’s no pain. Most of them are Aware, but they’re taking in the sights, enjoying the music, living vicariously through the alive. It’s not the worst place to haunt.
Old Tony himself lingers here, ten years dead, sitting in an armchair in the corner that no one else dares to use, watching his empire persist. He used to be part of the Family. Mafioso. He ended up the way most of those types do—filled with lead. Of course, Tony had a place in Hell. They run a tight ship, like they know the boss is still watching, and the food’s delicious.
“Almost 8pm,” Diana says, nodding towards the massive, art deco clock on the wall. A small part of my brain asks how she sees.
It ain’t all that important, Nick.
“Did you always state the obvious, or is that how you’re Strengthening?” I ask. If in doubt, rely on smart-ass quips.
Diana sniffs, but her lips curl into a faint smile. “Momma always said I was a know-it-all.”
“You were the oldest. You had to be.”
I pull out my cell and bring up the camera, baring my teeth at it. I’ve checked they’re clean too many times already, but what’s the harm in one more? Not that I’ll admit it, but I made an effort tonight; my thick, blonde hair’s combed and styled to the side, and I shaved the scruff from my cheeks. Even wore my best black shirt, jacket and pants combo. No sneakers, either. Fine boots tonight.
Diana sniggered when I emerged from my bedroom, asked me if I knew Johnny Cash. On the way to the restaurant, she asked if Charon had left too much of an impression on me. All I needed was the cloak.
I’m starting to like the kid.
“Nick?”
Diana points at the window. My heart thuds and my stomach lurches, but it ain’t Rosa. No. Kid’s gesturing outside, to a thin mist oozing across the street, tendrils curling against the wide windows. Just like the fog in Meadow Park.
“Coincidence?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
Diana shakes her head. “I feel them out there. That rage. That fear. That hunger. It’s the same as the park. Do you think it’s Charon?”
“No,” I mutter. “Charon doesn’t have friends. He doesn’t travel with an entourage. I reckon he just picked his moment to appear. Maybe he thought he’d see ‘the Fateless’ meet his end. I’ve run into Charon before, and that mist, that smell… Well, I’ve never seen it before.”
“Should we leave?”
I hesitate. I chew my lip, lean my elbows on the table so I can think straight. We took a cab over here. Now I wish I’d brought the Mustang. I’d be happier to have a quick getaway if something’s hunting us. I’m carrying my Ruger, but that’s all. Bullets ain’t even doused in holy water. Rookie mistake, but I’ve not had the chance to take stock of my supplies. Guess I relied on Harry and Maeve too much in keeping me prepared for Hell. I’m vulnerable without them in so many ways.
I frown at the table, as if the tasteful silk cloth will reveal a way out to me. Those creatures in the mist, they want us alone. We escaped Meadow Park, and they didn’t follow. God knows where the fucking Amarok ended up. Logic says it’s safer to stay at Tony’s, at least for now. Though me and logic don’t often see eye-to-eye.
I open my mouth to tell Diana the plan.
“Half-expected to find an empty table waiting for me. You scrub up good, Nick.”
My elbow slips, bouncing my chin off the edge of the table. I scramble to my feet, shrugging it off, pretending it never happened. I plaster the lopsided, disarming smile onto my face.
It’s her.
Rosa Riberio—Head Tech at the Library of Haven City and the woman who brought me back from death—smiles at me. Laughter dances in her eyes. Too many months have passed since I saw her last. She’s wearing her wavy, dark hair loose over the shoulder of her red-and-blue plaid shirt. Her hands are in the pockets of her jeans, though she’s wearing heels so she’s almost the same height as me. It’s been too long…
Something wells in my chest. This warm, fuzzy thing that makes my eyes water, just a little.
Happiness? Well, sonofabitch. The smile plastered on my old face ain’t fake.
“You gonna say anything, Nick?” Diana whispers. Not sure why; Rosa won’t hear her. “Or you just gonna stare at her all night?”
I cough. “Hey, I try. Thought I’d get here early for once. Make a good first impression.”
“First?” Rosa raises her eyebrows. “We’re a ways past first impressions at this point, Nick.”
“Pull out her chair,” Diana hisses.
I throw her a look—butt outta this—but I do as she says. Manners don’t cost a dime, after all. Rosa sits down with a laugh, her eyes wide in sham surprise. At least, I think she’s mocking me. She smiles at a passing waiter, and orders a bottle of red wine. It sounds expensive.
“You’re paying, remember?” Rosa says, with a wink.
“Is that what I said?” I shrug. “Can’t remember. Maybe I’m getting old.”
“You wouldn’t be planning to renege on your promise of a free meal, would you?”
“Ain’t the pleasure of my company enough for you?”
Rosa shrugs and turns to her menu, though she’s still smiling when she glances up at me.
“So, Nick Holleran,” she says, glancing around. “How many unseen friends do we have with us tonight?”
I catch Diana in the corner of my eye. Her head’s tilting back and forth between us, like she’s watching a tennis match. I pour a little water into my glass and let out a long-suffering sigh.
“Thought you said no ghost talk tonight.”
“There’s always going to be ghosts, Nick. There’s always going to be cases. Did you think I expected that to all disappear? I’m here, aren’t I? I know what I’m getting into.”
She doesn’t. Things have escalated since we were last together. And maybe there will always be ghosts, but there don’t have to be tonight.
“Actually, things are pretty quiet. I guess Tony’s is just for the living.”
Diana sighs rolls her eyes—at least, I think she does—but I ignore her. I’m lying, yes, but Rosa deserves better than to be surrounded by the dead without ever knowing it. I turned her world upside down when I told her about Hell, whether she admits it or not. Tonight is the start of something different and I’m going to do a better job protecting her this time.
She reaches out, takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m sorry about Harry and Maeve. I know what they meant to you. How have you been? It must still be pretty raw, right?”
I stare at our hands, clasped together, and squeeze back.
“Guess it ain’t sunk in yet,”
I reply, before staring into those dark eyes of hers and smiling. “But…we don’t need to talk about it tonight. They’d want me to try and act natural and normal. Lord knows they told me often enough. Truth’s a gift, not a burden. I want to know about you. How’ve you been?”
Rosa squeezes my hand once more, then lets go. The warmth of her hand ebbs away, leaving my palm cool and uncomfortable.
“I’ll tell you all about it,” she says, getting to her feet, “but first, I gotta pee!”
With a laugh, she heads to the restroom. I feel Diana watching me.
“How am I doing, kid?”
“She likes you. But she’s frustrated. She wants this to work, but she’s afraid of what might happen.”
Frustration. Makes sense. I’ve shut myself away from her too much in the past. Every time we grow close, I pull away. I’ve tried being open with her, but it’s instinct to curl up tight, and I’m terrible at explaining that to her.
Last time we spoke, Rosa told me I had a fear of commitment and maybe she’s right, to a degree. But it’s not just that. Like the kid said earlier, Rosa saved me, but in doing so, she opened my eyes to Hell and kept me from Heaven. I had trouble unpacking all that, but I won’t use it as an excuse any longer, even if I have to rewire my brain to make it work.
Still, the kid’s report is promising.
“She just likes me?” I ask Diana, falling silent when the waiter brings our wine over.
“That’s not for me to say. But you’re lucky she stuck around for you. She’s nice.”
I watch the waiter pour and find it hard to disagree. Through the restaurant’s windows, the mist thickens, swirls and presses up against the window. No one else notices.
I’ll do my best to blend in with the folk enjoying their time in Hell, if only for an hour or so.
…
“Wait, wait, wait. You’ve got a boyfriend?”
The steak—rare, almost blue—hovers near my lips, skewered on the end of my fork. Here’s me thinking I’m succeeding at a first date, and Rosa drops this bombshell in the middle of the main course.
“Had,” Rosa clarifies, and I stick the meat in my mouth to hide the grin attempting to bloom on my face. I chew to keep my jaw busy. “What? You think just because Nick Holleran isn’t in the picture I’m sitting at home, leaping at my cell every time it vibrates, hoping it’s the mysterious Paranormal Investigator? I thought you knew me better than that, Nick.”
A trap. I glance at Diana, and she’s fixed on me with that stare of hers. Fifteen, but she knows one wrong syllable from me could spell catastrophe. So I bide my time. Grabbing the bottle of red—did I mention how expensive it is?—I refill her glass. Mine too. I even give my wrist a little twist at the end, making the rim neat, all professional-like. I catch Rosa’s eye and the grin makes its triumphant appearance.
“Don’t give me that look, Holleran.” She says it a little pouty, but her smile’s twinkling at me. “Still think you’re a charmer, huh?”
I shrug and spread my hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to be honest. And the fact is, you were never really one to pine. If I’m acting like a schmuck, why wouldn’t you live your life? No matter what happens, I know we’d still be friends. Eventually.”
Rosa considers me. I gulp down my steak and my ego.
“It’s hard, dating people who don’t know how the world really works, y’know?” she says, mimicking my voice. Yeah, I said that once or twice. A good excuse for acting like an ass.
“Not really. Only girl I dated, I told the truth. Figured I owed her that much for taking a chance on me.”
In the corner of my vision, Diana sighs and nods. Gotta admit, the kid’s real helpful.
Rosa leans her cheek into a fist and taps one finger on the table, frowning at me, like I’m a puzzle she hasn’t figured out how to solve yet. It’s just a matter of time.
“Who’s helping you?”
Shit.
I can only blink and give my head a confused wobble as my mind goes into a blind panic. I don’t even wanna look in Diana’s direction.
I rub at the back of my neck. “Well…”
“Let me guess. Some kind of fairy, right? A nymph? Or, like, a vampire maybe?” Rosa considers, then shakes her head. “No. Too toxic, right? Maybe you just started listening when Ruby speaks for a change.”
I hold my hands up. “You got me.”
“Hmm…” Rosa contemplates her nails. “My compliments to your instructor. I’d give this date a solid eight out of ten so far.”
I lean forward. “So, what did I lose points on?”
Rosa smiles, arches an eyebrow. Man, do I want to kiss her. “You want your feedback now? We’re not even at dessert yet. Sure you don’t want to try a little bit harder to see if you can make a perfect score?”
I join in with her laughter.
“How’s work?” I ask.
She used to hate how I never asked her about that. I didn’t do it out of spite or anything; I just forget to ask people. Maybe because I spend so much time dodging those kinds of questions myself.
Rosa’s eyes go wide, and she takes a sip of her wine. “Oh, you know, busy. Getting a lot of people coming in with flyers lately, pets going missing. You heard about that?”
“Yeah,” I reply, thinking of the posters behind the bar in The Styx. “Seen them about.”
“Weird, huh?”
The nerves I had melted away as soon as we polished off the first bottle of red, and me and Rosa got to yapping like no time had passed at all. With a little help from the kid, I steer the conversation away from ghosts and demons and my encounter with Michelle Wheeler. It’s difficult, because Rosa wants to know. She wants to be a part of it all. I’ll ease her into it. Just not tonight.
After two hours, and another bottle, I decide to throw caution to the goddamn wind.
“Rosa, I missed you.”
Silence. I take a quick glance at Diana, who’s so embarrassed she’s turned around and staring through Tony’s windows. Rosa just peers over her wine glass at me, and I wish I really had taken some advice from Ruby.
“Sorry, that’s not fair. Got no damned right to say that, all the times I’ve messed you around. Screwed things up.”
A touch on the forearm shakes me from my cringing. Rosa’s hand lies on my shirt cuff.
“You’re being honest with me. You know I prefer that.” She pulls away. “Since we’re being honest, I missed you too. But how’s this time going to be different from all the other times, huh? We can drink wine in a fancy restaurant, but what about tomorrow? Are you going to let me help? Are you going to let me in? You’ve pushed me away so many times.”
“Too many times?”
Rosa meets my eyes, breath caught somewhere between her lungs and my heart. “I don’t know.”
I can only nod. Look, maybe she shouldn’t give me another chance. We never fought, never screamed at one another. But she always said she could see me turning into a ghost, growing more distant, just when our relationship was getting serious. It’s like we were hiking a mountain together, and each time we neared the top, I’d quit on her. I’d let work pile up, tell her I was busy, cancel dates, stop taking calls. And then there was the way we met.
I brought that up a lot, used it as a barrier to stop us growing closer. You can only do that to a person so much before something’s gotta give, right?
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to doing this again. And soon,” Rosa murmurs, signaling a waiter, “but make me a promise, Nick.”
“What?”
“Don’t mess me around again. If you get cold feet, I don’t want any games. Just tell me straight.” I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off. “And don’t tell me you ain’t gonna mess me around. No empty promises. Just actions, Nick. Prove it to me. Deal?”
I give her the old, lopsided grin. “You wann
a shake on it?”
“Smart ass.”
It’s bold, but I take her hand. Hold it for a second, feel the warmth of it, the smoothness against my rough fingers, and meet her eyes. “I get it, and I’m serious. If I let you down this time, don’t answer my calls again, don’t give me another chance. I won’t deserve it. Hell, reckon I don’t really deserve this one.”
“You’re trying,” Rosa smiles, squeezing my fingers and easing her hand free. “And I want this if you want it, so let’s give it a shot, okay?”
We fall into a peaceful silence as Rosa waits for the waiter so she can order dessert. I guess she’ll order the chocolate fudge cake, and she does. With two spoons.
“Nick!”
I turn so fast in Diana’s direction that it looks weird, so I start coughing. Mist’s so thick outside that it’s pressed against the pane, a grey curtain blocking off the outside world but that’s not what the kid’s pointing at. By the window, lowering himself into a chair, is Marvin goddamn Clancy. He nods and gives me a small salute. The fog gathers against the window behind him like a cloak.
I feel my teeth grind. That sonofabitch. I warned him to stay away. He’s tailing me. For certain, he is. Naw, that ain’t happening.
I turn to Rosa. “Okay, in the interest of our new arrangement, I’m gonna tell you this straight…” I keep my voice light and low, like I’m about to whisper up some sweet nothings. She gives me a sharp look, anyway. “Don’t stare at him, but there’s a heavy-set guy sat by the window looking our way. You see him?”
Rosa dabs at her mouth with a napkin, flutters her eyes. I see `em dart in Marv’s direction before she gives me the slightest of nods. She’s good.
“Punk’s stuck to me like my shadow. His name’s Marvin Clancy and he’s bad news. I don’t want him causing trouble. Not for you, or anyone else here. I’m gonna head to the little boys’ room, and I’m guessing old Marv’s gonna follow. Me and him will have a quick chat, and he’s gonna leave, all in time for dessert.”
Rosa chews her lips, pensive. “Nick, is he an ordinary case or…a special one?”
