The last time I saw my foster sister was the day I left Miami. She didn’t know I was there. She looked so lost, her once gorgeous hazel eyes empty, her flaxen hair greasy and stringy. Her psychiatrist kept her well medicated. It was the only way to keep her from killing herself or someone else.
She was classified psychotic for good reason.
I took my time walking down Goose’s street. Brooklyn Heights was a nice area and relatively safe to wander alone. It was quiet now, with only a few people walking across the street. I unwittingly drifted into Never-Never-Land, sorting through my past, present, and future. Things didn’t turn out the way I thought, and I wasn’t sure how I’d reached this point. Now I was here, I didn’t know what to do or expect.
I thought of Disco, and that wrenching sensation of being torn in two overwhelmed me—something that happened each time I pictured his face or those heavenly golden blue eyes. I had never been so conflicted in my life. Normally, I knew exactly where I stood in situations, but not so much anymore. The black and white areas that governed my decisions just took on a huge middle ground of grey.
My daftness proved to be my undoing yet again. I thwacked into an older woman with her mixed breed ankle biter, our shoulders knocking each other off course. I took the “watch where the fuck you’re going” in stride, nodding and muttering a half-assed apology, eager to get downwind of the Icy Hot wafting from her body and into my nose.
I closed my eyes and groaned when I heard chuckling. Disco was gentleman enough to laugh out loud instead of startling the piss out of me, but it didn’t erase the fact he was laughing.
Being humiliated always made me cranky.
“You do have a short attention span,” he teased.
I glanced up. He was waiting on the stairs, eyes sparkling in amusement. Dear God, would I always find ways to look like an asshole in his presence?
I was grateful I’d decided to make the extra effort with my appearance, because he had too. He was dressed in black, as usual, but in a different style, without the trench coat. The shirt was a nice long sleeve button down, the collar open around his throat. He’d also left his honey-blond hair unkempt, and I worried he might have read my mind that night I’d thought about just how amazing it made him look.
“Laugh it up,” I grumbled.
He was busy taking me in, starting at my feet and working his way up. He approved of my change of attire and wanted me to know it, taking his time and allowing his eyes to linger. I looked away, annoyed by my awkwardness.
“You look delectable.” He used his uncanny speed to close the distance between us. I gazed up into his eyes, utterly transfixed by the shifting colors. “I’m going to buy an entire wardrobe consisting of things just like this for you.”
How do you respond to a remark like that? I had no clue, and at the present moment, I didn’t care. His close proximity made me remember that heat I experienced on the couch in his foyer, and this time, I couldn’t completely fault the blood. I was attracted to Disco whether I wanted to be or not, and he knew it. The smart thing to do would have been to back away, but I didn’t want to. That grey area expanded, melding black and white together until there was no concept of right or wrong.
His right hand came up, fingers nestling against the back of my neck. He brushed his thumb down my throat, pushing aside the material obscuring my mark from view. The first graze of cool skin against his bite made my knees crumble. I dropped the duffel and sagged. He anticipated just that or he used his speed, pulling me close, keeping me upright. I braced myself with my hands, grasping his muscled bicep and waist, gazing into his face.
Disco’s eyes were mesmeric. The multilayered colors sparkled like vibrant jewels. The ocean blue base was darker, the vortex on top a beautiful array of violet, green, and teal. The black circle along the edge dipped inward, creating a pattern reminiscent of flower petals. Glowing on top were the dazzling flecks of gold, brilliant in the dark.
His face descended, lips coming toward my own. He wanted me to know what he intended, giving me the opportunity to push away. His eyes engulfed me, growing larger as he closed the distance. His lips lightly grazed mine, and I closed my eyes, the whisper of air leaving my mouth captured in his.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach and chest, a delicious heat spreading through my limbs. I opened my mouth and his tongue delved inside, gentle but insistent. The moment I reacted, caressing his tongue, he groaned and crushed me tightly to his chest.
He tasted addicting, and when he deepened the kiss, I mirrored his lapping, swirling my tongue in harmony with his. My heart pounded as my awareness heightened. Tracing the line of his jaw with my fingers, I skimmed over his throat, forging a path to his heart. The solid, steady beating helped bring me back to reality.
I opened my eyes and he lifted his head, my gaze caught once again in those enormous pools of blue. Suddenly, I knew what I’d missed, the most minor of details.
“No smoke,” I murmured.
“What’s that?” he chuckled. He enclosed my hand in his and held it against his chest.
“Did you quit smoking?”
“You finally noticed?” A broad grin spread across face. “I was beginning to wonder if it even mattered. I can forgive the oversight now, seeing as you have a tendency to over look things with that impressive attention span.”
“Why did you quit?”
“Don’t you know?” When I shook my head the breathtaking grin encompassed his features, and his eyes shimmered. “I felt drawn to you the first time I saw you, Rhiannon. I’ve tried to deny the complexities of my feelings, but every time I’m in your presence, they always return. Our kind experiences all things intensely, and emotions are equally difficult to suppress. As selfish as it makes me, I won’t hide the way I feel for you any longer. I couldn’t if I wanted to. The least I could do is put down the cigarettes you so obviously detest.”
I was flattered, taken aback, shocked, and totally scared out of my God damned mind. A gambit of emotions assembled in one huge helping, served on a tiny did-you-see-that-coming plate. Words escaped me. So many thoughts scattered through my mind that was unable to formulate a coherent response. Kissing someone because you felt an attraction, I could handle. But when you gave up a habit to impress—that meant something else all together.
“It doesn’t change what I am, does it?” His eyebrows drew together as he misinterpreted my silence.
“It’s not that,” I managed to say. I wasn’t good at emotional shit. Extending that fragile part of me was something I never allowed. It was my cardinal rule for staying safe. The deepest wounds are inflicted by those you care for. Anyone can kill you physically, but being brutalized emotionally was an entirely different matter.
“What is it, then?”
“As clichéd as it sounds, it’s me. I’m not… I don’t… damn!” I growled at myself in annoyance. I not only looked like a douche; I sounded like one too. “I haven’t had many boyfriends, Disco. I’m not saying that’s what you meant when you said…” I groaned in mortification.
Fucking hell, I couldn’t even do this right!
He waited while I tried again.
“I’m not good at relationships, or depending on other people. I’ve been on my own since I was fourteen. It’s how I’ve lived the last nine-years of my life.”
“Do you want to spend the next nine like this?”
The question hurt on several levels. Especially as it implied something was wrong or disturbing about how I lived. I knew I wasn’t normal. Most people thrived on some level of companionship. Me? I didn’t even own a Chia Pet.
“I don’t know.”
His lips pressed against mine, hard and demanding. The hand at my nape pulled my face closer, allowing him to devour my lips. I responded automatically, sexual instinct taking over. No matter what rules I had regarding my life, they couldn’t govern my reactions to him. I met each thrust of his tongue with my own, fingers clutching at his neck and shirt.
He placed h
is hands on each side of my face, pulling away, and forced me to look at him. “You can’t deny how you feel about me any more than I can about you,” he breathed the words against my face, that silky timbre seeping into his voice.
“This is completely insane,” I argued feebly, “and it would never work.”
“Why don’t we withhold our judgment until we know that for certain? I’m not asking for your soul, Rhiannon. I’m only asking you to take a chance. How long has it been since you’ve done that? Allow yourself to fall. I’ll catch you.”
His lips skimmed across my cheek and I closed my eyes, attempting to think rationally. “You could have any girl you wanted. Why can’t you pester them?”
It was a serious question that came out laughable. I realized subconsciously I wanted to do what he asked. I was in serious danger of pressing my luck.
He chuckled against my hair. “Sirah asked the same question.”
“Maybe you should listen to her.”
“When she said that, I knew I was making the right decision. None of us put stock into anything that woman says. Actually, we all agree if Sirah advises something, do the exact opposite. She inadvertently gave you her seal of approval.” He ran his hands down my arms, causing the skin to ripple.
“I’ll think about it.” I attempted to move away.
“No.” He shook his head, peering down. “If you think about it, you’ll find a million different reasons to say no.” He tugged me gently, closing the distance between us. “Have dinner with me.”
I squirmed anxiously. “You don’t eat food. And I don’t like eating alone.”
“If you don’t want to have dinner, tell me what you’d like to do, and we’ll do it.” His fingers squeezed my arms, gently massaging the sore muscles.
I smiled uncomfortably, words husky. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. This kind of thing doesn’t happen to girls like me. But don’t you think it’s best if we assess the situation and cut our losses beforehand? I’m not worth the headache you’re sure to have if we take this any further. And no offense, but I don’t see you as the going to the movies and taking a walk in the park kind of guy, which is what I assume normal people do when they date… if that’s what you’re asking for in the first place.”
“Girls like you?” he said in amusement, shaking his head. “A date is exactly what I’m asking for, and a movie and walk in the park is fine. What about tomorrow night?”
“With everything that’s going on, I don’t think now is the appropriate time.” I didn’t want to say no, but I had to try and wiggle out of this. I was holding a can of kerosene and standing next to a blazing pit of fire.
“We could both use a distraction and there is no better time than the present. What time should I pick you up?”
I had heard this tone before. It was the same one used when I declined his offer to escort me home. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, even if I argued.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea—”
“What time?” Again, he forced me to meet those incredibly beautiful blue eyes, which was cheating.
I tried to glare at him but my eyes betrayed me. “You really want to do this? The first time wasn’t incredibly successful, if you recall.”
“First time?” he looked and sounded confused, two things I never encountered from Disco simultaneously.
I guess that first meeting wasn’t a date after all.
His face lifted into a mischievous smile. “That wasn’t a date. Not in the slightest.”
“No? Just an opportunity to let your family watch me squirm.” This time, my glare was genuine. Envisioning all of them observing us that night pissed me off.
“I can’t deny Paine was there. It is his bar after all. Now, stop avoiding the question. If you don’t give me an answer, I’ll simply wager a guess. Either way, I’ll be knocking on your door tomorrow night.”
“Fine.” I scowled but I was equal parts annoyed, flattered and excited. Damn my hormones to hell and me right along with them. I was sealing my own fate. I could only blame myself. “How does seven o’clock sound?”
“It sounds perfect.” He smiled at me; eyes vivid and bright, the blue impossibly clear. “I’ll be there.”
He kissed me again, and I figured to hell with it. I already had one foot in the door. I slid my hands under his arms, gripping his back through his shirt. This time, Disco was different. His full lips were gentle, bestowing a multitude of soft kisses that were both endearing and sweet. Something I hadn’t experienced in years came to life, the tiniest fluttering inside my chest, and I pulled away before the emotion could intensify.
“I should go inside, I’m already late.” I looked past him to the door. I was going to be grilled by Goose, reamed and teased mercilessly. I returned my focus to Disco, suspicion creeping over me. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Joseph and I accepted Ethan’s invitation to observe tonight. I wanted to wait out here for you, away from prying eyes.”
“Great,” I muttered, palming my forehead and groaning at Disco’s soft laughter. Everyone would get to witness my utter lack of knowledge when it came to my ability firsthand.
I sighed and braced myself.
What was one more humiliation?
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Disco and I arrived, everything was set. Goose moved the rug from the center of the living room to reveal a large intricate pattern painted into the wood. It wasn’t like those depicted in the movies. This circle consisted of three interlocking patterns. The first design was a normal red circle, which formed the base. The second pattern, above the red, was painted white. The final design was painted black.
I was to sit outside the circle, as were Goose and Sonja. Disco and Joseph were told to stay completely out of the room and watched from the entranceway.
Goose informed us we would attempt to contact Jacob first. If we got lucky, Sonja would work as a medium, offering to channel his voice to answer crucial questions. If everything went according to plan, this would be easy.
Naturally, I knew it was too good to be true.
Goose pulled a tiny vial from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and put a finger on top. He flipped it over in a fast motion, down and back up, and placed the finger on his forehead, drawing a cross with the shiny liquid on his finger. He said something in a foreign language and walked to Sonja, who did the same thing. She returned the tiny bottle to Goose, and he walked to me.
“Take some of the oil on your finger and make the sign of the cross on your forehead.”
Goose extended the vial to me. Inside, there were sprigs of what I distinguished immediately as mint. I took a sniff and wrinkled my nose at the potent aroma. The liquid was thick and clear with a gold tint. I made the sign of a cross on my forehead as instructed.
“The words you speak need to carry conviction so you’ll need to say this in English. Repeat after me—protect me and keep me, thus no harm shall befall me.”
“Protect me and keep me, thus no harm shall befall me,” I repeated dutifully.
Nodding, he took the vial and screwed on the tiny black lid. “No matter what happens, stay outside of the circle. Understand?”
I frowned at him. “If it’s Jacob, what’s the worry? Isn’t he a good guy?”
“Not all spirits can resist the pull that comes from body snatching. If he communicates through Sonja, his soul will remember what it was like to live. He’ll see through her eyes, smell what she smells, and feel everything she touches. That’s why we light the candle in the center of the circle. It acts as a tether. If he refuses to withdraw after our questions, we will force him out and back to the flame. But if you cross the circle, you become the tether, and his spirit will remain until we can exorcise it.”
He narrowed his eyes at me in a clear reprimand. “Just stay out of the circle.”
“No problem.” He didn’t need to worry. I wouldn’t enter that circle if Ed McMahon was holding my million dollar Publisher’s Cl
earinghouse check inside.
Goose walked past the circle and lit the candle in the center. It was a large, black pillar with a dark, well-used wick. He watched until the flame was strong, and then took his seat at the edge of the circle. I thought he would hit the lights and do this wacky shit in the dark, but he left both floor lamps as they were, and I could see everything clearly.
Goose and Sonja closed their eyes, and I mimicked them. I read the pages from the journal that spoke about this, so I wasn’t totally unprepared. An incantation was sometimes necessary, but not always. You started out by singling out the spirit, forming a mental picture of the person, and calling to them with your mind and necromancy. I drew on my past memory of Jacob, which was crap. All I could remember was dark hair and shooting off at the mouth.
Nothing happened. The minutes slowly ticked by.
As with anything, being in a position that required silence and concentration made me doubly aware. A trickle of cool air breezed across my skin, carrying a mild electrical current. I opened my eyes and gasped. Jacob’s face was inches from my own. His eyes were blue but looked opaque. His face was blank, as all spirits’ faces were, and being up close and personal helped me appreciate just how scary that was.
“Jacob Newman,” Goose said the name evenly, without emotion. “We summoned you here in an effort to bring your killer to justice. Aid us in this, so that you might rest peacefully.”
Jacob stood, and the motion brought his empty chest cavity directly into my line of sight. Even without the truest clarity, it was revolting. His black shirt was cut down the middle and parted like a vest, skin peeled back and ripped away. I could see that some of his ribs were cracked in half and few were missing. The sternum was shattered, the lower portion completely gone. I could see his spine—the pink meat of muscle and cartilage infused together. The heart was missing, leaving behind a clumpy mess of veins and arteries mashed into a goopy blob of thick and thin strings dangling from the mass. His wound extended to the gut below, revealing the sausage-like strands of his intestines mixed with shards of white bone that flashed starkly against the pink tissue.