by Melody Raven
Angela blinked a few times in surprise. “I don’t think....”
“Please.” Claire tried to communicate with her eyes exactly how necessary this was, and Angela finally sighed.
“Fine. Please take good care of Bastian. I’m worried about him,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
Bastian let out a little grunt and Claire couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or amused. Either way, he didn’t seem like a talker. Good. The last thing she needed today was a Chatty Cathy.
Bastian hated drama. He’d been around long enough that he’d lived through enough live-action soap operas, including a few he’d participated in. He didn’t need to get in the middle of any of this shit.
But if Claire wanted to hide from her problems while being productive, he wouldn’t stop her. At least he didn’t have to go work with Dante. The loudmouth was just begging for a fist to the jaw sometimes. The problem with mind control was that you got used to people being okay with your shit.
Because of the circumstances of his gift, he had always been keenly aware of when he was using it and why he was messing with anyone’s mental capabilities. It was a violation that should only be used under the most dire circumstances. Especially considering he himself had been controlled by one person for too long.
At the thought of Claudia, he clenched his fists. Search. He needed to keep searching.
“So where should I start?” asked Claire, apparently having the same thought.
“We’re clearing the tables first. Then we’ll do the hostess station and register. Sam and Derek are taking care of the back office. Then we’ll move onto the next building.” The restaurant was easy because of all the wide-open spaces. Other places would prove more challenging.
He moved to the next table and stopped before he started to tip it over. He knew this table. He and Claudia had eaten here their first day. They’d stood out in the small, depressing town. It hadn’t always been depressing, but he and Claudia had gotten there long after the darkness had taken hold. And once they’d arrived, it spread with a newfound aggression. The beginning of the end....
He flipped the table over and verified there was nothing but gum hidden underneath. He kept an ear out for any hollow-sounding boards but didn’t bother trying too hard. One of the witches would be able to do a scan for hidden compartments much easier than him. If they were going to finish this search in one day, it was going to have to be magically assisted.
“I’ll take the eggplant parmesan,” said the serene voice right next to him. Bastian stiffened, every nerve ending in his body going on high alert as he turned to face the ghost. And there was no other word for the thing in front of him. At the chair, now with no table in front of it, sat Claudia. But not the Claudia he’d just lost. The Claudia who he had followed to this town in the first place. Younger. More innocent. Fresh-faced and ready to take on the world, no matter the consequences.
Eggplant parmesan. It had been her favorite food. Everywhere they went, no matter the menu, she’d ask for it.
After this place, she never did again.
“Thanks so much,” she said in response to the waiter who wasn’t there. “What do you want, honey?” The ghost looked right at him and smiled, sending a chill up his spine.
Bastian sat back on his heels and tried to figure out his next course of action. He knew it wasn’t real, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous. “Claire,” he said softly.
“Find something?”
“Maybe. Do you see anyone sitting on that chair?” He pointed to where Claudia was sitting, serenely looking at him.
“Silly,” she said, smiling down in his direction, for the first time breaking out of the memory loop. “I’m only here for you.”
“No. Why. Who do you see?”
He stood and reached for his sword. It might not kill a ghost, but it would make him feel better. “Stay there,” he warned.
Claudia also stood and softly approached him. Her hips swayed seductively with every step, and he was instantly transported to a time so long ago where he did everything she asked not because of some supernatural obligation, but because he simply would follow her to the ends of the earth, no questions asked.
“You’re not really here,” he said as she reached out and touched his arm. Definitely a solid presence. If it could touch him, maybe that meant he could kill it. He started to raise his sword when Claudia suddenly grabbed at his throat and squeezed. He choked and before he could push him off her, an ice-cold tendril seemed to snake through him, starting where she touched his neck and then racing down straight to his fingertips and feet. The sword clattered to the ground and Claudia pulled him down until she was looking right into his eyes.
“You never should’ve come back here,” she warned. “We want you back.”
Suddenly he could feel the life sucking out of him and there was nothing he could do. No fighting his way out of this. No mind control. Not even a shout for help. All he could do was sit there and watch as the love of his life killed him.
Then he heard someone calling his name, and all of a sudden he was dropped to the floor, slamming down, narrowly avoiding his sword as his muscles tried to remember how to work. He took in a few deep gulps of air as he got his bearings back. “What....”
Claire was sitting next to him and rubbed her hands up and down his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
He frowned and looked around for any sign of Claudia, or whatever the hell that thing had been. But it was gone.
“What are you sorry about?” He pulled away from her and tried to get his bearings back. His head was spinning and he felt as if he could barely stand. He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt this... vulnerable. He didn’t like it, damn it.
“I had to do the soul sucky thing. You were just standing there and then you started to go pale and I didn’t know how to break it out of you. So I did my thing.” She held up a hand.
“You.... That worked on me?”
“You have magic in you, even if it isn’t natural. I stopped as soon as I could, though. I hope you don’t mind.”
He blinked a few times and tried to make sense of that. This little waif of a girl could just touch him and... what? Could she kill him? Just hurt him? What were the limits of her power when it came to something like him?
For the first time, he got it. He wasn’t usually afraid of anything. From experience, he knew exactly how hard it was for someone to kill him.
“We should find the others,” he said. “They need to know that the town is starting to fight back.”
Angela pushed through the doors softly, but that effort was wasted because Dante slammed a drawer shut. She swallowed, not looking forward to getting between Claire and Dante once more, but here she was. Smack-dab stuck in the middle.
Damn. She’d rather be interviewing the most annoying crack addict right now than be here with him. “Hey there,” she said with fake cheerfulness.
He glanced in her direction but didn’t say anything as he kept looking through the many nooks and crannies of the kitchen.
Okay then. She didn’t need to talk. She opened up one of the cabinets only to hear Dante snap, “Claire already looked in that one.”
“Sorry. Must’ve missed that with my x-ray vision. Oh wait, I’m just a little human. I don’t have magical powers.”
She moved onto the next cabinet, not even asking him what Claire had gotten to, and a second later she heard him approach. She clenched her jaw as she waited to see which side of Dante she would get this time.
“What did she say?”
Angela narrowed her eyes and seriously considered how much she wanted to get involved in this. But he did have a right to know. “She didn’t say anything, Dante. She just asked to switch.”
“So I guess that’s it.”
“That’s it? Stop being so melodramatic. We have work to do.”
“Is it easy for you? You’re a cop. You probably compartmentalize all the time.”
She scoffed. “Do
n’t give me that. I know your history, Dante. A guy who’s been with as many women as you is probably pretty damn good at compartmentalizing too.”
“It’s easy to compartmentalize when you don’t feel anything.”
“Would it be easier to just be a robot? Don’t feel anything. That is probably why the mind control is so natural for you.”
His brows drew together. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means when you do that, you have to bite back things like guilt and empathy. Also emotions that make it harder to womanize. You’re so used to feeling nothing that anything at all seems like too much. That’s the trick, Dante. I don’t compartmentalize. I feel everything. That’s the only way you learn to deal with it. Otherwise when you do start to feel something, you break down. And that’s when shit goes down.”
Dante didn’t say anything as he seemed to think over her words. He opened his mouth, but then the doors swung open and Claire walked in. “Bastian was just attacked. He’s fine, but be careful.” She avoided looking at Dante before she left.
Angela pursed her lips together. Awkward.... “So, you afraid of ghosts?” she asked, trying to talk about anything except Claire.
“I don’t know what she’s waiting for,” said Dante, firmly abandoning any hope of leaving the subject of his failing relationship behind. “If she wants to break up with me, why doesn’t she just do it? If she’s waiting for me to make the move, she’s got another think coming.”
She let out a snort as she pulled open another drawer. “Stay with her out of spite. I’m sure that will work out great for you.”
“It’s not like you have the right to lecture me. I don’t see your dance card filled up.”
Angela slammed the next drawer shut a lot harder than necessary. “One, dance card is an incredibly dated reference. Two, I choose to be single. This way I don’t have to deal with all the emotional bullshit you’re entangled with. So don’t give me that single shaming crap, especially since you’ve spent almost your entire life single.”
“I meant—”
“And for your information, I’m not lacking for prospects, okay? Have you seen my body? I don’t spend my time running around this damn city and counting calories for nothing. I have plenty of people I can call if I want an itch scratched. So you, relationship boy, can deal with your own shit and then once you’re free and clear, we can talk.”
His brows drew together and he ran a hand through his green hair. “You want me to talk to you when I’m single? Are you interested?”
Her mouth fell open and she tried to figure out how she had gotten herself into this hole. “Wha— No, I just meant— I mean that I’m happily single and soon you’ll be happily single and then you’ll remember how much better it is.” There. That made sense. Kind of. Why had she told him to talk to her?
“But if, theoretically, I was single and you were single and you have an itch, would you....”
Angela considered herself a pretty open person, but the turn of the conversation had a blush creeping up her cheeks. She usually kept her, um, special friends limited to other guys on the force who also had a limited pool of understanding partners who didn’t want any attachments. But there was no reason Dante couldn’t be there when she needed something...extra. His alternative look was hardly her type, but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t hot in its own way. But his personality.... “I don’t actually like you,” she reminded him.
“I don’t have to talk.”
She caught her breath as the possibility suddenly became a hell of a lot more tempting. She blinked a few times to clear her mind. Now sure as hell wasn’t the time to be thinking any of these thoughts.
She continued the search and didn’t look at Dante. Maybe talking wasn’t a good idea. Keep her head down and work. That was a good idea. That was what she needed to do to finish this.
Except when she reached to open the last drawer on the island area of the kitchen, Dante was there, pushing it shut. Her breath caught in her throat. The action that should’ve been annoying was strangely erotic. Breathe, girl. Breathe. “We have work to do,” she said softly, still not looking at him. Because she didn’t trust herself to keep it together if she looked up into his bright-green eyes. But if she kept eye contact with the stainless-steel counter in front of her, maybe she could manage to beat whatever was taking over her....
“I don’t need to look anymore,” said Dante in a soft whisper. His breath caressed her neck and sent chills down her spine at the contact.
“I, um, I really think we do.” Damn it, she was so much more articulate than this. How was this stupid witch making her forget how to speak?
“I already see what I want.”
She could feel him get closer, and then something soft ran along the sensitive edge of her neck.
She swallowed as her nerve endings went on high alert. Little shocks raced through her entire body at the touch. This was.... They shouldn’t be doing this. Why shouldn’t they be doing this? Because they were looking for a diary that could stop... something. She twisted around. “Stop,” she whispered, finally looking up into his eyes. But instead of the green depths she was expecting, all she saw was black. And when Dante’s mouth crushed over hers, she didn’t see anything.
Sam held a hand over the safe and closed her eyes, letting the magic swirl through her. A second later, the safe popped open. There were a few wrapped bands of twenties, probably about four thousand dollars’ worth, and a few books. After flipping through them, she verified that it was just accounting ledgers. Nothing worthwhile. She let out a sigh as she shut the door.
“Any luck?”
Derek poked through some of the ceiling tiles to make sure there were no hiding spaces up higher. “None. I’m not sure how we’re going to do this.”
She’d been thinking the same thing, but she wasn’t about to admit it out loud. “We’ll figure it out,” she said stubbornly.
“This is just one building. There are dozens in the downtown, not to mention all the homes on the outskirts. Jackson could’ve planted the diary anywhere. If he really wanted us to know where it was, he would’ve told us. This is just a wild-goose chase right now.”
She was less worried about time. She was more worried about the town itself. In a strange way, she felt safe here. There was no darkness or families waiting to pop out at any moment to make her life hell. Back home in the city was where her true fears were. It was where her grandmother was still awaiting a funeral fit for the queen she was. It was where her sister lay in an unmarked grave. Where her mother was still taken over by a darkness that had seemingly no purpose but to make her life a living hell.
Here, in this strange ghost town, she had a momentary reprieve. As long as the ghost town didn’t fight back and try to kick her out. Hell, maybe she should check out the houses. This could be her new hideaway from life.
She smiled bitterly and shook her head at the thought. Hideaway.... Claudia would be rolling over in her grave. Claudia didn’t hide. Even when faced by the horde of darkness-controlled witches, she’d done what needed to be done. She hadn’t been afraid or scared as she’d faced death down. She’d just accepted.
“What’s wrong?” asked Derek.
Damn detective. He saw too much. “Nothing,” she lied.
“I don’t think now is the time to not be honest with me.” He narrowed his eyes at her, as though he could see right down to the core of her to diagnose what was bothering her.
“I just.... It’s nothing you can help with.”
“You won’t know until you try talking about it, will you?”
“No, I do know. Not everything is an afterschool special. You don’t just get to talk about things and solve all your problems. Sometimes talking about things just reminds you of everything you can’t fix. Sometimes talking about things just reminds you of how hopeless your situation is or how many people you’ve lost or how fucked everything is.”
Derek clenched his jaw and she immediately wish
ed she’d said even less than that.
“I mean—”
“That’s bullshit,” he said.
She blinked a few times at the unexpected words. “Huh?”
“I wouldn’t be here if everything was fucked. I wouldn’t be here if we couldn’t fix this. Claudia, for all her strengths, wasn’t a fan. If she brought me back, it was because I could help. We’re going to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing and put me to work. It’s not hopeless. We’re just trying to connect the dots. So stop wallowing in what you can’t do and think about what you can. Your grandmother sacrificed herself, but not without giving you one final order. I get—I mean, I don’t get but I can imagine—how overwhelming this all is. The idea that you’re supposed to be the next Claudia or whatever. But don’t think about that. Think of it as one last order from your boss. She tasked you with finding out how to use me and beat this darkness once and for all, right? So you can be some badass leader tomorrow. For right now, you’re just carrying out one more order. Got it?”
She blinked a few times and nodded. Strangely enough, that did make her feel better. One step at a time. She could do this. She would do this....
“Sam!” shouted Claire from the front.
She held Derek’s gaze for one more moment before she broke away and headed out of the office. “Yeah?” She glanced to where Bastian sat in a chair and held his head in his hands. “What happened?”
“A ghost thing,” said Claire.
“It wasn’t a ghost,” said Bastian in a half moan, half grunt. Ghost or not, whatever it was seemed to take a lot out of him.
“Where’s Angela?” asked Derek.
“I switched with her. She’s with Dante. But I warned her about the ghost stuff.”
Derek started for the kitchen area. Sam knew that since Angela was the most human of all of them and the newest to all this crazy, he was protective of her. Sam was less worried about Angela and more curious about the fact that Claire had decided she didn’t want to work with Dante. They’d only been in their pairs for half an hour or so. Hardly enough time to get sick of each other yet. What had happened to cause them to separate? Sam gave her a questioning look, but Claire shook her head. Whatever happened, it was something that they would have to discuss later.
