by Terri Garey
I hated to admit it, but whoever had done the decorating had done a good job—the old hardwood floors gleamed with polish, the walls had been painted a deep Oriental red, and white crown molding had been installed near the ceiling. Cool vintage rock posters from bands like The Velvet Underground, the Ramones and the Sex Pistols were set at overlapping angles all over the walls, filling the place with just the right atmosphere. Wooden crates filled with old vinyls, modern racks full of CDs, and an area full of sound equipment in one corner. There was even a sound booth in the back, full of speakers, turn-tables, and headphones.
Sammy was flipping through some old vinyls, his back to the door.
“I’ll be right over here in the CDs if you need me,” Joe muttered, eyeing him narrowly.
I gave him a grateful look, knowing how much it cost him to let me do this by myself. We’d talked about it in the car on the way over, and I seriously doubted I’d get much cooperation from Sammy with Joe listening to every word that was said.
Steeling myself, I walked toward the vinyl section. Even with the moral support, it was a lot harder to take the devil by the horns than I’d thought.
Godsmack’s “I Stand Alone” was playing on the store’s stereo system, which I found supremely ironic under the circumstances.
“How do you feel about the Talking Heads?” Sammy asked idly, over his shoulder, as I approached. “David Byrne was ahead of his time, I think. Still doing great work, by the way.”
Should’ve known there was no surprising him.
“I prefer David Bowie,” I answered, refusing to let him rattle me. “Or for older stuff, The Pixies.”
“Bah,” he answered, letting the album slip back down into the bin. “Mindless noise.”
“I would’ve taken you for a Generation X man, myself. Billy Idol seems to be a particular favorite of yours.”
Sammy turned, giving me a grin. It didn’t have nearly the wattage of Billy’s famous whiplash smile, though. “How very brave of you to face the demon in his den,” he said, flicking a glance toward Joe before ignoring him completely. “What do you want?”
I wasn’t going to waste my time on explanations. “You know what I want.”
“Oh, but I do so enjoy hearing you beg. Aren’t you going to plead for Crystal’s pitiful little soul?” He leaned a hip against the wooden crate that held the old records, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or didn’t today teach you to be careful what you wish for?”
“You didn’t have to kill him,” I murmured, glad there was no one in this part of the store to overhear us. I had a feeling I was going to carry guilt over Boyd’s death around for a long time.
He waved a hand as though brushing away a gnat. “He belonged to me anyway. I just claimed him a little early.” His gaze sharpened. “Aren’t you glad he won’t be raping any more children?”
His bluntness, delivered in such a calm tone, was designed to shock me, but I was beyond that. “Yes,” I answered, looking him in the eye, “I am.”
“Bravo, little Nicki,” he said softly. “I knew the kitten had claws.”
I couldn’t help the sour look he got for that one.
He chuckled. “Adorable. How I shall miss you.” Dropping his arms to his side, he turned away, heading toward the register.
“What? Where are you going?” And why did I care?
“Haven’t you heard? I’m very fickle. Resist the Devil and he shall flee from you, and all that.” Another negligent wave of the hand. “I’ve grown tired of this particular game.”
It was all I could do to keep from grabbing him by the sleeve. “What about Crystal?”
He stopped, turning to face me once again. “What about her?” A blond eyebrow arched.
He was going to make me beg after all, damn him. “Please release her from the bargain she made with you,” I said, as humbly as I could (which wasn’t very). “Please let her go into the Light.”
Silence for a moment, as he stared at me, considering. “I’ve asked you before, Nicki—what will you give me in return?”
Without thinking, my eyes went to Joe. He was watching every move we made, though he was too far away to hear what we were saying.
“A kiss,” I said. “One kiss. Freely given.”
I looked back to see both blond eyebrows raised.
“That’s it? I’m supposed to give up a soul I’ve gone to great trouble to harvest for something as paltry as a kiss?”
Setting my jaw, I persisted. “That’s it. That’s all I’ll give you.” In case he didn’t know it by now, I could be one very stubborn kitten.
Sammy gave another amused chuckle, shaking his head. “All right.”
For a moment I doubted my ears.
“On two conditions.”
Should’ve known.
“Three, actually.”
“What are they?” I blurted, before he could add a fourth.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he took a very no-nonsense stance.
“One: if you look at your boyfriend one more time while I’m talking to you, the deal is off. I find beta males very annoying. Yours, in particular. I want your full attention.”
I wasn’t going to argue whether Joe was alpha, beta, or gamma, for that matter—because to me he was perfect, whatever Greek letter of the alphabet he was assigned. Of course, I now wanted to look over at him more than ever, but I studiously avoided it. “Okay.”
“Two: if he comes over here and interrupts our kiss, the deal is off.”
This condition made me nervous. How many guys would stand idly by while their girlfriends kissed someone? Particularly when that someone was Satan himself? If I had a chance to warn him first, it would probably be okay, but without it…
“Either he trusts you, or he doesn’t.” The smile that played about Sammy’s lips told me he was enjoying my nervousness. “Are you willing to take that chance?”
My stomach was now officially in knots. “Yes.” What choice did I have? Don’t look, don’t look…
“Three”—he took a step closer, lowering his voice—“this kiss is under my control. I control the length, the depth, and the duration.” The way he drew out those three words sounded distinctly sexual. “There’ll be no quick pecks involved.”
“And then you’ll let Crystal go free?” I wanted it clarified. “One kiss, and your bargain with Crystal is over? Finished? Finito? You’ll let her go into the Light?”
Tilting his head to the side, he gave me a quizzical look. “Would you like a written contract? In blood, perhaps?”
I had the feeling he wasn’t kidding.
“No.” I shook my head hastily. “No need for that.”
He shrugged, dropping his hands. “Ah, well. Some people like that sort of thing.”
“To each his own.” I was babbling now, and knew it.
“Of course, we could call the whole thing off,” Sammy said, hopefully. “You give in, leave that nasty Light for the glorious Dark, we join forces, mingle juices…”
“Not gonna happen. Kiss me and get it over with.” Before I ran screaming from the shop, with my tail tucked between my legs. Because, damn it all, a teeny, tiny part of me was still tempted, in spite of everything.
He shook his head. “Uh, uh, uh.” There was a devilish gleam in his eye. “That wasn’t the deal. You kiss me, remember?”
Oh, this was not going to be easy. Joe was standing right there—don’t look!—and Sammy was giving me his best smoldering, I’d-like-to-eat-you-for-breakfast, lunch, and dinner stare. If this was going to be over anytime soon, I’d have to dig deep, find some courage, and make my move.
Unconsciously, I wet my lips—I knew I’d done it because his eyes snapped to my mouth, and lingered there. With a deep breath, I took a step closer to him. And then another, praying that Joe would stay back, stay quiet and most of all, stay mine.
Another step, and my nose filled with the scent of forbidden fruit: warm, spicy, and infinitely male. Steeling myself, I lifted a hand and placed it on his shoulder,
right where it met the strong column of his neck. I could see the pulse beating there, for all the world as if he were a flesh-and-blood man, not a devil.
The Devil. If I’d ever had any doubt of it, it was gone now; no one could devise a more diabolical torture than this.
He wasn’t going to help me, either. His hands stayed by his sides, and though he was gazing down at me, I was going to have to rise on tiptoe to reach his lips, because he wasn’t bending. “You smell good,” he whispered.
“Shut up,” I whispered back, and then I kissed him.
I wasn’t sure what I expected: heat, passion, stars, fireworks, lightheadedness; all of that paled in the reality of the moment.
Sammy’s lips were firm, yet curiously soft, clinging to mine with the lightest of pressures. His hands came up to touch my waist, but there was no urgency in his grip. My body leaned into his of its own accord, while he kissed me as if we were all alone in the universe, just he and I.
It was overwhelming, but not in the way I’d imagined. Gentle, so gentle. Breathless, expectant, like that moment on a roller coaster when you’ve reached the crest, just before it plunges toward the earth. The faintest brush of his tongue against the tip of mine, and then—shockingly—it was over. He drew back, and I opened my eyes to see his blue eyes soft. For an instant—just an instant—he looked as he had when I’d seen him in my dream, in the garden. A younger, gentler, kinder version of himself.
And then he ruined it by speaking.
“She’s already gone, you know.”
For a moment, I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Crystal. She’s already gone.”
I pulled away, frowning, doing my best to focus.
“It seems you were right, after all, little Nicki.” He grinned at the look on my face. “I have only enough power over human souls—whether living or dead—as they give me. Once Crystal’s issues with Jimmy Boyd were resolved, and her little sister safe, she had nothing left to keep her here.” He was chuckling now, enjoying my confusion. “And no reason left to listen to me, particularly since you’d already shown her”—he lifted a finger toward the ceiling, mockingly—“the proverbial Light.”
“Oh, my God,” I said slowly.
His lip curled with distaste. “That’s right—your God. Not mine.” He turned away, leaving me standing there like an idiot. “At least not anymore.”
“Wait.” I couldn’t help it. I had to know. “Will I—will I see you again?”
The tiniest of smiles lifted one corner of his lip, a mere shadow of the devilish grin I’d come to know. “Do you want to?”
I didn’t know what to think at this point, much less what to say, so I said nothing. I just watched as he turned and walked away, disappearing down the hallway that led to the back of the store.
“Nicki.” Joe’s voice at my elbow got my attention. “Are we done here?” His face was set, white lines of tension around his mouth.
“We’re done,” I answered, hoping very much that it was the truth. I searched his face, not quite knowing what to say to him, either. “Joe, I—”
“‘Looking before you leap’ is a lot harder than I thought it would be,” he said, interrupting me. “Because I’d like nothing more than to leap down that guy’s throat.” He glanced toward the hallway where Sammy had disappeared, eyes hard. “But I figured if you could do it, so could I.” Then he looked back at me. “Still, you better have a damn good explanation for that.”
“Only the truth, which is that you’re the one I want.” I put my hand on his chest, feeling the tenseness that vibrated through every muscle in his body. “I’ll tell you everything in the car. Let’s go.”
It was true what they said about funerals; they’re for the living, not the dead. And as much as I hated them, Crystal’s funeral was one I would have liked to go to, just to make sure she wasn’t still hanging around. But I was out of luck, because Crystal wasn’t having a funeral.
Cremation, Joe had said, and he should know, because he’d been the one to sign the papers that had ultimately released Crystal’s body to the crematory. No service, according to the family’s wishes.
It had been six days since I’d kissed Sammy; four days since Joe had met with his lawyer, who’d wasted no time in getting Joe off suspension and back to work. Divinyls was locked up and silent, with closed signs on the front doors. And I was left wondering whether Sammy had told me the truth about Crystal going into the Light, or whether he’d tricked me again with yet another lie.
Lies were his stock in trade, after all.
I was sitting on the couch in my living room. In front of me was the white basket I’d found on my doorstep. The yellow flowers were wilted and faded, the bottles full of powders still there. I picked up one of the little scrolls and unrolled it, already knowing what it said.
SPELL TO SUMMON A SPIRIT
Based on recent experience, I knew there was a chance the spell might really work, but did I want to take that chance? If Crystal was at peace, why should I disturb her? And if she wasn’t, would summoning up her spirit start up even more trouble?
Shaking my head, I tossed the scroll into the basket, picked up the whole thing, and walked out the back door, dumping basket, flowers, powders, spells, and all into the garbage can.
The lessons I’d learned from the Savannah Garden Club were interesting, but despite what I’d said to Sally Starhawk and her friend, I wasn’t really all that into Helen Damnation.
About the Author
A Southern girl with an overactive imagination, TERRI GAREY grew up in Florida, always wondering why tropical prints and socks with sandals were considered a fashion statement. A former computer analyst, this RITA® Award winner now spends her time writing demented tales from the dark side.
Please visit her on the web at www.tgarey.com or www.harpercollins.com/terrigarey.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
By Terri Garey
YOU’RE THE ONE THAT I HAUNT
A MATCH MADE IN HELL
DEAD GIRLS ARE EASY
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
YOU’RE THE ONE THAT I HAUNT. Copyright © 2009 by Terri Garey. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Microsoft Reader January 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-177367-9
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
About the Publisher
Australia
HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty. Ltd.
25 Ryde Road (PO Box 321)
Pymble, NSW 2073, Australia
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com.au
Canada
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
55 Avenue Road, Suite 2900
Toronto, ON, M5R, 3L2, Canada
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.ca
New Zealand
HarperCollinsPublishers (New Zealand) Limited
P.O. Box 1
Auckland, New Zealand
http://www.harpercollins.co.nz
United Kingdom
HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
77-85 Fulham Palace Road
London, W6 8JB, UK
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.co.uk
United States
HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
10 East 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
http://www.harpercollinsebooks.com
