Something Wanton (Mystics & Mayhem) (42 page)

Wait.  Energy.  Lots and lots of different energies.  Like, maybe, the kind of energy
ghosts
put off.  Okay, so my ghosts had been MIA since I woke up dead, but that was easy enough to fix. 

“I know what to do,” I whispered, a happy smile stretching across my face.  “For once, I actually
know what to do
!”

“Where are we going?” Skippy asked when I grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hall and into the
elevator. 

“We’re going to call up some old friends,” I told him when he looked like he was starting to doubt my sanity.

As soon as the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, I hauled Skippy outside into the snowstorm that was starting to look more and more like a blizzard by the second.  Raising my arms to the sky, I ignored both his doubting look and the stinging snow that felt like it was slicing my skin to ribbons.  There was nothing whatsoever beautiful about what I did next.  There was no fabulous incantation, no awesome ritual.  I had never needed those things to attract the dead. 

Skippy dissolved in a fit of laughter when I yelled my orders to the heavens with my usual lack of respect for the dearly departed.

“Hey!  Dead people!  Vacation’s over, slackers!  Show yourselves!  We have work to do!”

The icy bite of the wind blowing around me didn’t have anything on the frigid air that descended on me as one spirit after another took shape around me.  Skippy, who wasn’t able to see the dead the way I could, just looked confused as I turned around in a circle, smiling at the apparitions that were still arriving.  There had to be hundreds of them, ghosts of every size, shape, color, and nationality.

“It’s about damn time!” Snake crowed, appearing right next to me, his hair an outlandish shade of purple.  “We were beginning to think you were going to wallow in self pity forever!”

“Oh.  Is that why I couldn’t see you?” I asked, feeling really small and selfish.

“It might have been one of the reasons,” another ghost, this one a young man I didn’t remember ever seeing before, said kindly.  He reminded me painfully of my friend Charles with his soulful eyes and geeky-handsome face.  “Mostly, I think maybe you just had too much to deal with so your mind selectively blocked us out until you could work through some of it.  It happens.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I mumbled, giving them a sheepish smile.  “But we’re back in action now.  I’m willing to help each and every one of you, but I need your help, too.”

“Yes, we know,” the ghost of a woman wearing a long cocktail gown said, rolling her heavily-lashed eyes.  “We have to hide you from the scary hunters.  You might not have been listening lately, but we’ve been keeping up.”

“Who are you talking to, Ember?” Skippy asked, looking like he was ready to call in the guys with the nice little happy drug drips and the straightjackets.

“Skippy, meet my friends,” I said, gesturing around at the ghosts surrounding me.  “Ghostly companions, meet Skippy.”

They all turned and looked at him, then back at me, then at him again.  A couple of the faces I saw looked friendly, a few unsure whether they wanted to be unfriendly or not, and a few just looked downright disgusted.  The rest, including Snake, just kind of dismissed him like he was part of the door he was leaning against.  I didn’t comment on that.  Skippy had a bit of an ego.  Being dismissed as if he were insignificant wouldn’t go over real well with him, no matter how dead the people dismissing him were.

My ghosts
had served a similar purpose when I was having so much trouble with Bastian, so I didn’t have to go into too much detail about what I needed from them.  The energy my ghosts put off was massive.  If they couldn’t hide me, nothing could.

“Your power is pretty spectacular,” a thin, sickly-looking man who reminded me of Ichabod Crane said, floating to the front of the crowd.  “Even with all of us, it’s going to be hard to hide it if you lose your control.  Might I make a suggestion?”

“Shoot,” I told him through chattering teeth, hugging my arms around my stomach like that would keep me warm.  Yeah, and the sun would rise in the west come morning.

“Perhaps a bind,” he mumbled, casting a look around at the others like he was afraid they were all going to jump him at once for suggesting such a thing.  “I’m not suggesting you bind all of your powers, mind you, only
certain
abilities.  It will make you much easier to mask from the view of the ones you wish to hide from.”

I mulled that over while I wondered if my lips had started to turn blue.  Just standing in the near blizzard would have been bad enough.  But being surrounded by the
dead in the middle of a near blizzard was worse than being locked in a freezer.  Before I could decide whether the idea had merit or not, the door behind Skippy swung open and most of my entourage came sprinting out, looking frantic.

They stopped when they saw me standing there, half-frozen but smiling.  The looks on their faces…well, you would have had to be there.  It wasn’t until their eyes started darting around wildly that I noticed the strange phenomenon taking place.

My ghosts must have been putting off some
serious
energy.  The snow was rising up from the ground in spirals, like little mini snow tornadoes.  It was, without a doubt, the coolest damn thing I had ever seen.  Maybe Ichabod had been wrong.  Maybe I didn’t need to be bound, after all.  The ghosts surrounding me, being joined by more spirits every second, were generating enough power to light a skyscraper for a month.

“We have
guests
, gentlemen!” Skippy snapped, straightening his suit and glaring at Tyler and Nathan since they had been the first two out of the door.  “Our enchanting little genius here has found a way to shield herself from detection.  I have been trying to sense her power for the last ten minutes, and I cannot sense a thing.”

“We couldn’t either,” Tyler mumbled, looking embarrassed.  “That’s why we ran out here like the cavalry.  And when I say we couldn’t sense her, I mean
none
of us could.  Even her scent was gone.”

That was just
too
great.  For the first time in days, I was actually getting some good news.  Tyler couldn’t sense me.  Nathan couldn’t trace me by my scent.  That meant no one would be able to pierce through my ectoplasmic bubble of ghosts.  If they couldn’t, the hunters couldn’t either.

I really love my dead people sometimes.

“We’re ready to leave when you are, Skipper,” Zan said, clearing his throat to get our attention.  “I think we should leave
soon
.  I don’t relish the thought of hanging around and hoping for the best, if you get my drift.”

“Huh?” I said, trying to make sense of the nonsense coming out of his mouth.

“We’ll explain later, baby,” Nathan murmured, coming to wrap his arms around me when my teeth started clacking together.

I was shivering so hard my body was starting to ache, and Nathan wasn’t exactly warm.  Being pressed up against something cold—no matter how hot it looked or how delicious it smelled—wasn’t doing a lot to regulate my body temp.  Nathan must have realized it, too, because he let go of me reluctantly and backed off a little.  Tyler immediately rushed forward, like he was going to take his place, but Kim saved the day by beating him to it.

“Come on, Em, let’s get you inside before your friends freeze you to death.”  I gave her a grateful smile and she winked.  She led me toward the door, completely surrounded by the ghosts, and yelled over her shoulder, “Don’t you boys have something to do?  Move it!”

When she slammed the door shut behind her, I stopped mid-step and stared back at it.  What had she just said?  That they had something to do?  Oh,
hell
no!  They were not making plans without me!  Unh-uh!  No way!  I turned to look at her and Kim held up her hands and took a few steps back, grinning like a loon.

“Wh-where did y-you s-send th-them?” I stammered out, trying to make my teeth stop chattering so I could yell at her.

“They’re on a mission.”  Her grin suddenly turned kind of evil, making me
really
wonder what Nathan and Tyler were up to.  “Let’s just say they’re going to fetch us some insurance.”

∞§∞§∞§∞

“Are there always that many of them?” Kim asked, tucking another blanket around me as Grams handed me a huge mug of steaming-hot coffee—laced with some kind of bourbon she had gotten from God knows where.  “I mean, there had to be a lot of them out there to keep me from finding you.”

“Yeah, unfortunately there are always going to be that many of them,” I told her, sighing as the warm liquid and the blankets started to warm my frozen body.  Muscles I didn’t even know I’d had started to relax…and ache like crazy.

It took me a little while to explain and Grams kept the coffee coming while Mrs. Val found me some dry clothes in the boxes that someone, probably Skippy, had stacked neatly against the wall in
my room.  I didn’t blame Kim for being curious.  It had taken me years to figure it all out, questioning the ghosts that came my way looking for a road home.  Apparently, death, like life, comes in stages.

Stage 1:  Denial.  Those are the really sad ghosts, the ones who don’t know they’re dead.  I’ve met a few of them, and they all made a very lasting impression.  The worst had been the little girl
I’d had to break the bad news to when I was eleven.  She had only been five years old when she died, and she didn’t understand no matter how hard I tried.  She eventually wandered away, as most of that kind do.  I had always hoped she would come back someday, but she never had.

Stage 2:  Anger.  Once these souls realize they’re dead, they get a little upset.  Those are the ones I typically refuse to acknowledge.  Not only are they highly unpleasant, they can actually be dangerous.  They operate under the ‘I’m dead so I’m taking you with me’ mentality.  Not exactly Casper material, that bunch.  I’ve toted more than my share of bruises and scratches, even a few bite
marks, because I was unlucky enough to be able to see them.

Stage 3:  Depression.  You know the stories about ghosts moaning and rattling chains and all that crap?  Well, if ghosts actually
did
that kind of thing you can guarantee it would be this group waking you up in the middle of the night with haunting wails.  After the anger fades, they become depressed.  At that point, they’re only dangerous to themselves.  Some actually become so despondent they simply fade away.  I always wondered where those lost souls ended up, wondered and shuddered.

Stage 4:  The Purpose.  Those who make it through stage three suddenly become driven to discover some hidden purpose in the whole death thing.  They are the most hopeful and the most annoying at the same time.  They become convinced that the living have the answer they seek—yeah, they’ve conveniently forgotten
they
didn’t have it when
they
were alive—and they ask more questions than a toddler.  The only thing that makes them bearable is that once they figure out there is no answer, no higher purpose, they reach the final stage of ghosthood.

Stage 5: Acceptance.  This is the stage when a ghost is truly ready for my help.  They have come to the end of a long, hard journey, and all they want is to go on.  They usually have a request, something small like a family member they want to say goodbye to or a deed they desperately wanted to accomplish that they never got to complete.  Then they fade away in a burst of glowing light.  It’s beautiful, and, for those I’ve helped find their way, a very emotional experience.

Some ghosts make the journey from stage one to stage five in a matter of days or even weeks.  Others it may take years to reach that level of enlightenment that finally allows them to let go and move on.  I’ve gotten more of the hard cases than the fast learners, but I think that may have more to do with me than the ghosts.  Maybe I attract them because, to be honest, I’m kind of a hard case myself.

Some, like my friend, Charles, and Nathan’s friend, Gabriella, I had even hated to see go.  The dead are still people and you can become attached to people.  Gabriella taught me that.  Before her, I tried to distance myself from the poor souls who would seek out my help.  Once I lost the ability to see them, I missed them.  Now, I wanted to be the one to help them.  I had been given my gift for a reason, and I fully intended to make the best of it.

“So they just…disappear?” Kim asked, looking disappointed.  When I arched an eyebrow at her, she grinned sheepishly.  “Well, you have to admit that it’s kind of lame after all the buildup.  Kind of like fireworks with no boom.”

“That’s just because you’ve never seen the light show,” I told her, grinning back.  “Trust me, you would get it then.  You know how people joke about not going into the light?  Well, I really don’t see how you could help it.  It’s beautiful.”

She was quiet for a long time, twisting her fingers in her lap.  When she did speak, the question she asked made me choke on my coffee.  “Did you ever see Daddy, Em?  Was he like one of those other ghosts?”

I put my mug down on the table next to the
bed and pulled her up beside me.  She laid her head on my shoulder, hiding her eyes from me, but I saw the tears dewing up on her lashes anyway.  Throwing my arm around her shoulders, I laid my head against hers and sighed sadly.

“No, Kim, I never saw Mr. Evan.  And do you know why?”

“No,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Because he wasn’t ever a ghost.”  I squeezed her shoulders when she sniffled and tried to ignore the way my own eyes were burning.  “Do you know why most of the people I deal with become ghosts?  It’s because they loved
too much or didn’t love enough.  They die with regrets, Kim.  They have so much regret that they can’t let go.  Mr. Evan loved you and Riley and your mom just enough.  The way he died was awful, Kim, but he died with his soul ready to move on.”

“Or maybe the idea of having to deal with you in death, too, was just more than the old man could stand,” a laughing voice said, coming from the doorway. 

My head snapped up to find Riley lounging against the frame, smiling at me. Mrs. Val loves to torment me with the story of how, at seven years old, I climbed in her lap and told her I was going to marry Riley when I grew up.  What?  I was
seven
!  I also thought I was going to live in my Barbie dream house, but that didn’t happen, either.  Don’t get me wrong, Riley is really cute—his last name
is
Robbins—but somewhere along the line, he became as much my brother as he was Kim’s.