Talking Bones (Psychic Vision Book 21), page 9
“You must have the most interesting stories to share,” he murmured.
“Yeah, too bad I’m not really the social kind,” she stated bluntly.
And again he grinned. “Maybe not the social kind, but I do think that what you do comes from the heart.”
“It comes from the heart, but that doesn’t mean it’ll get me any brownie points,” she murmured.
“And yet that isn’t what you’re after, is it?”
“No. It’s a good thing though,” she said. “Just being after brownie points won’t do it for you.”
He smiled. “Fascinating. It’s all really fascinating.”
And that’s when she stopped. “Here’s your hotel.”
He looked up in surprise. “I didn’t realize we were here already. You sure you don’t want to have a drink down on Bourbon Street? It sounded like it might be fun.”
“You go for it. I’m tired, and I need to head home and get some rest.”
“And will your ghosts let you?”
“I hope so,” she replied on a yawn. “It all depends on what’s stirring on the ethers.”
And, on that cryptic note, she turned and walked rapidly away.
*
Gage watched Skylar go, wishing that she were the kind who would open up and share, but she’d obviously been hurt by doing just that, because she was certainly against it. And he could understand if she’d tried it with bad results. People like him, struggling to find answers, looking for anything to somehow provide clarity, were desperate without someone like her to help. He also knew that when you were a specialist in any field, people were always out there trying to grab information from you to increase their own specialty.
He hoped she knew he wasn’t trying to pull one over on her or to use this information for anything other than his own healing. But he wasn’t exactly sure that was even something she would understand. It was a sad world when it came down to not wanting to help people because you’d been burned so badly that you couldn’t trust anyone.
Yet was he any different? He’d had a couple deals go sour because of business partners screwing him over, and a couple other deals he had reluctantly made because he wasn’t comfortable with the people involved, getting out as soon as he could. People would be people. It was disheartening to think the world had gone to hell in a handbasket.
He looked around his hotel lobby, before calling for an elevator, recalling the moment Skylar had asked if he was hoping to connect with his friend. It had been a direct hit that neither had discussed further. He wasn’t sure he’d thought of it consciously in that context, but he knew she was right.
Alone in the elevator now, he whispered, “I don’t know where you are, Linden, but anytime you want to talk to me, I’m here, and I’m listening.”
Of course he had to learn exactly how to be here and to listen, but he could only hope that maybe one day his buddy would show up, and they could actually talk. Skylar had also hit the nail on the head asking if the accident had been intentional. Gage really hoped that his friend hadn’t been trying to kill both of them and that maybe he had just been terribly upset and had missed the corner accidentally.
But … maybe Linden had done it on purpose. Gage just wanted clarity from his buddy, and, because Gage had survived, he also wanted to tell his friend that it was okay, that he forgave him. Right or wrong, that stage of Gage’s life had come and gone, and Linden was no longer part of it. His friend had been in such a messed-up state prior to the accident. Linden had no desire to be a part of the sale of the business, so Gage figured he’d buy out Linden early, so he could avoid the headache of these negotiations. And, when Linden wanted out, Gage had let him go easily enough.
Yet Linden had been upset about that too. It showed his mental state, and it bothered Gage that he hadn’t been aware of it in a close enough way to have done something to help his friend of all these years. Gage hadn’t realized just how unstable Linden had been.
Until it was too late.
Shaking his head, Gage quickly walked up to his room and inside. He studied the bed. Sleep might be impossible tonight because of all that had gone on earlier. He still wasn’t sure about that black presence he had felt over his chest and had seen behind her when he woke up. He really wanted to ask her about it but knew she wouldn’t be happy about it. Which was a pain in the ass because she was literally the only one who could answer these questions. He looked down at his phone, wondering if he should call her.
He hemmed and hawed and then finally mustered the guts and said, “Screw it. I need to know.”
And he dialed the phone number he had for her.
When she answered, her voice distant and not exactly friendly, he jumped right in. “I didn’t have the guts to ask you this earlier, but I really need to know,” he began. “In the hotel room, I sensed a huge dark presence atop me, before I went under. It was something new to me. Then I woke up again and saw it was behind you. Do you know what that was?”
There was shock in her voice when she replied, “No, I don’t, but I sure as hell wish you would have said something about it earlier.”
“Why?”
“Because that kind of shit,” she snapped, “it’s not good. And you need to nip it in the bud right off the bat, just as soon as you can.”
“And do what?” he asked her in bewilderment.
“Disarm it, for one thing,” she stated firmly, “or dissipate the energy. The fact of the matter is that something knocked you out, and it was likely that dark presence.”
“But then wouldn’t you have noticed it yourself?”
“No,” she said, “I was totally preoccupied trying to gather enough energy to keep you alive.”
He winced. “Right, and of course you don’t have answers to everything anyway.”
“No,” she snapped, “I don’t. But I do know that, right now, if you have done any kind of research, you know you need to keep a protection spell on you, particularly in that room. I’m hoping that the dark energy is not connected to something that might have gone on in that room beforehand. You might need to ask or do some subtle research for some time period in history, then try and get some sleep.”
“I do know about protection spells,” he noted, a little dazed that she would bring up something like that. “I just didn’t think they were for real.”
Her voice was harsh when she snapped, “Damn right, they’re for real. So when you go to bed tonight, make sure you put one on.” With that, she hung up.
He stared down at the phone, wondering if he should call her back to apologize for not being forthright from the start, but realized that she probably wouldn’t answer a second time. She could only put up with so much from him, and she had been generous with her time so far and hadn’t even lost it when he had followed her to the graveyard. But he’d probably exhausted her goodwill, … for tonight at least.
He smiled, as he thought about his brother’s suggestion and realized that it did make sense to try again in the morning, with food. At least it seemed to work today, so he’d do it again tomorrow.
Chapter 7
Skylar sat down on her balcony, with a glass of white wine, relaxing in the warm, humid New Orleans air. She was dreaming if she thought she wouldn’t see Gage again tomorrow. Elena, one of the ghosts that she let into her upstairs apartment, walked out and sat down beside her. Decades and decades and decades ago, Elena had been a beautiful light-skinned ex-slave and mistress of a plantation owner. She hadn’t survived her first childbirth. Her voice was musical and soft, and she was more hooked on this location.
Having had such a short life, she was content to sit around and to have an extension of that life in this ghostly form. No matter how much Skylar tried to convince her to go to the light, which was there and available to her, she refused. Even when Skylar told her that maybe she would then come back and live this existence all over again.
“He’s nice,” Elena noted.
“He is, and he’s also in a tough spot,” she murmured, taking a sip from the wineglass, before leaning back and closing her eyes.
“No, I hear you. He is in a tough spot. I could see his energy, but I couldn’t actually appear before him.”
“That would shock him,” she noted, with a laugh. “He hasn’t been able to see anybody really clearly yet.”
“But, as he works at it, he might though, right?”
“Maybe,” she agreed, turning to look at this ghost that she would have called a friend, if they were both in physical form.
Elena looked at her, smiled, and stated, “You know we’re friends now.”
“We are, except that you’re supposed to be off on your own journey,” she murmured, “not sitting here, keeping me company.”
“I thought it was the other way around,” Elena teased, with a light tinkling laugh that filled the balcony. “I was here first.”
Skylar grinned. “Point taken,” she murmured. Then she added, “And who knows? I could have been here at the same time you were here. Maybe we were friends in physical form before.”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Elena agreed thoughtfully. “You should check your Akashic records, which with your skills I’m assuming you can, and see where and when your other lifetimes appeared.”
“We’ve talked about the existence of those records before but I’ve yet to try to access them,” she stated, “but my hands are a little full at the moment.”
Elena nodded complacently, as she rocked gently on the rocking chair. And, yes, the rocking chair did move and was just one more of the nuances of a ghostly life, where there was really no rhyme or reason or answers because Elena had no physical form and no weight to make the rocker move. Yet it did. And whether it was just a push of a rocker that she managed to make from a certain specific corner, it was the one trick that Elena could do.
Skylar had had physical company over early on, when she had first moved to this area. But taking one look at the rocking chair seemingly moving itself, her guest had freaked out and had abruptly left, never to return.
Elena had laughed and laughed. “I guess they weren’t cut out to be the kind of person you need in your life.”
“Well, I could have used any kind of friend,” Skylar murmured.
“Nope,” Elena had argued. “That’s not quite true. You need people like you.”
“There aren’t many people like me,” she muttered.
“No, but you need that tribe.”
“Tribe,” she repeated softly.
That was one of the current catch words that always got her, because how did you know who your tribe was from the outside?
“You have to trust,” Elena answered her thought.
“I’m not really good at trusting.”
“Nope, you’re not,” she agreed, “but I love you anyway.” She spoke in such a breezy tone that in no way could Skylar be mad at her. Besides, Skylar had discovered early on that it was completely a waste of energy to be mad at ghosts. They had their own way of doing things, their own way of looking at things, and you could try to argue with them until you were blue in the face, and it didn’t make the tiniest bit of difference. They still thought they had the answers—or at least knew more than you did.
And sure, Elena had been around a long time. She had been part of the New Orleans scene for a very long time, but that didn’t mean that she had actually been as active as she was now. Because, in reality, she couldn’t have been very much of a part of it. Only as Skylar had come and had opened up more energy, as it became more available, did a lot of this actually open up for Elena, who was loving every bit of it. She didn’t want Skylar to leave, but, at the same time, Skylar would do whatever she needed to do for her own security and peace of mind, and Elena knew that. Yet, at the same time, she didn’t want to hear it.
Skylar smiled at that because, once again, it was all about doing what you needed to do and hoping that everybody around you would either understand or, if they didn’t, that they would stay out of your life enough that you could do what you wanted to do regardless. And, in this case, it was more about Elena understanding that, when she left to go into the light—if and when she left—that increased energy that Skylar provided to Elena may fade with her crossing over. Skylar just didn’t know. They had discussed it a couple times but with no answers. Elena wasn’t prepared to argue about it. She was just enjoying life as it was for her right now.
“It really is nice to see everybody so happy out here.”
“What about when you see the brawls?”
“That’s just a part of it,” Elena admitted, with an airy wave of her hand. “When you think about it, there were always brawls and fights, particularly with men … and always over the ladies.” Elena smiled at that.
Skylar got the impression that Elena had seen more than a few such conflicts, perhaps over herself. “Well, you are beautiful in this form,” Skylar noted, “so I imagine you must have been a stunner when you were in your full physical form.”
“I was,” she agreed, with a complete lack of guile. “And my master was very proud to have me on his arm.”
“Did he treat you well?”
“Yes, absolutely,” she replied, with a smile.
“Would it have lasted?”
“Not likely, not when I became old and gray with ten babies at my feet.”
“So, he would have moved onto somebody younger, slimmer, less occupied, I presume.”
Elena nodded. “The good thing,” she explained, “was that I didn’t have to live through that stage of being discarded.”
“No, and I can’t imagine that would have been very much fun for anybody.”
“No,” she replied, “and I am very happy now that men don’t have quite the same options”—she paused—“or maybe women have more options now.”
“Women have a lot more options,” Skylar agreed, “and women of color have far more options.”
She nodded. “We never thought we’d see that day come.”
“Well, I’m sure a large part of the population would say there are still a lot of problems, and it’s not come anywhere nearly as far as it could be, but at least it’s progress.”
“A hell of a lot of progress,” she murmured. “But you’re right. I don’t think it’s enough.” She looked down at the street and pointed. “Look. An awful lot of partying down on that corner.”
As Skylar looked over the rail, she saw a group of twenty or so. But the energy around them was gentle and fun-loving. “I think they’re just having fun.”
“And that,” Elena agreed, “is really good to see.”
“You didn’t get to have a lot of fun, did you?” she asked Elena.
“We sang a lot,” she replied, “and I was treated well enough, but my own people didn’t particularly appreciate the favors that I was given.”
“Of course not,” Skylar noted. “Every society has its own microsocieties, and, within them, there will always be jealousy and anger.”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“But you died in childbirth, correct?”
“Yes, as did my baby daughter.”
“I’m so sorry about that,” she murmured.
“I’m not,” she stated, with surprising force. “She would have been born into slavery—and likely would have been beautiful and become the property of a man.”
“Born to a slave, she already was,” Skylar noted quietly.
Elena looked at her, glared, and held up her hand. “I’m just saying that’s what the life was like. I know I shouldn’t get mad at you, but, if I could live now,” she snapped, “I think I would be a force for men to contend with.”
“I’m sure you would,” Skylar declared, with brilliant laughter. “If nothing else you’d break hearts with every step you took.”
“Because I’m beautiful, right?”
“Yes, absolutely because you’re beautiful.” Skylar chuckled.
“And yet you laugh,” Elena noted, with a frown.
“Not at you,” she explained, “just at the thought of how the men would be overwhelmed by your beauty, which is only the half of it,” she murmured.
“It would be easier for them if they were,” she stated. “Men are simple creatures.”
At that, Skylar burst out laughing. “I won’t argue with that.”
“You really should be nicer to him, you know?” Elena noted.
“Why?” Skylar asked bluntly.
“He needs your help.”
“He does need help, but that doesn’t mean that I’m the right person to help him.”
“You’re just afraid of getting hurt again,” Elena murmured.
“Maybe that’s one of my lessons to learn though, right?”
It was really hard to turn off the ghosts when they got to know you because they really thought that, once they did, they then had the right to make judgments about your life and share how they thought you should lead it. Sometimes Skylar would tune them out; sometimes she would tell them to keep it to themselves, but Elena generally stayed within the boundaries. Yet tonight she seemed to really want to discuss Gage.
“I like him,” she stated.
“He’s male,” Skylar said in a dry tone, “of course you do.”
Elena burst out laughing. “I’m not so simple as that.”
“Yes, you are.” Skylar looked over at her ghostly friend.
Elena shrugged. “Maybe so, but still he is very good-looking.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Then Skylar rolled her eyes at Elena’s laughter because, of course, it was really hard to hide any of those kinds of reactions. “Okay, fine,” Skylar agreed. “I’ll give you that. He is good-looking. Big deal. That’s on the outside, and it doesn’t mean it’s all good on the inside.”
“He’s good-looking on the inside too,” Elena stated, with a nod.
“Maybe, but then I’ve been wrong about that before,” she muttered.
“That’s why you’re scared to move in that direction again.”
“Maybe I’m just not ready. I don’t like the way this all went down today, and I don’t like anything to do with his uncle.” She looked over at Elena. “Now, if only you could tell me if Jonesy were alive.”
