Medium Rare, page 18
“I don’t know, apparently we weren’t as quiet as we thought.”
“Ha!” Jay had started to pour himself a cup of coffee, and almost spilled it. “Well, at least I don’t have to explain that part to her.”
I instantly went red with embarrassment. “She knows though. Right? About — you know — you’re dating guys?” I asked, suddenly worried that Jay sleeping with another man would have been a shock. I flushed a little harder, thinking about that potential scenario, and me being the one standing in front of his ex, smelling like sex.
“Oh, ha! No, she knows. Again, she’ll make it tough for you at the beginning. You succeed and pass in her books, you’ll be part of the family. Stick around. It’s gonna get all kinds of fun.”
I relaxed a little with that, but still, Sharon was not someone to trifle with. “Well, the fun is only going to ramp up for you too, I think. We’re not done with the dead quite yet. Shall we go search for a book?”
“Ugh, do we have to?”
“Yes.” I gave him a wink, then waved him to come with me as I walked down the hall toward the primary bedroom and the secret witch room. Sam, being the good kid he was, continued to ignore us, while watching his cartoons. But out of my periphery, I spied him tracking us, and I suspected he had listened to every word we’d said.
“Oh my God, how many damn books did this woman own?” Jay opened yet another box filled to the brim with tomes, scrolls, and assorted diaries. There were at least another half-dozen boxes left. The floor of the secret room was littered with the box contents we had already pilfered.
“It’s a witch thing.” Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I flipped through the pages of one of Shirley’s many notebooks. I wasn’t finding anything that looked like it would help us locate a reaper. The musty smell from the books was making my nose itch. I knew most liked the smell of old books. I did not.
“Some of these things are creepy as fuck.” I glanced over at Jay, who had made colourful commentary on his discoveries from the treasure trove of witchy items. He held, between a pinched forefinger and thumb, a small wire-bound book. It’s outside cover appeared to be black leather. There were glyphs etched into the skin. The minute I laid eyes on it, I wondered.
“Jay, toss that over here.”
“Gladly.” He pitched it over to me, and I caught it, but the minute my hands touched it, my skin crawled. The room seemed darker. The air heavier. This book held nothing good between its pages. “If I were a betting man—”
Very cautiously, I opened the book, only to be greeted by an exhalation of breath, not from me, or from Jay.
The room became very cold, and very dark.
“Jay, am I seeing things?”
“Nope. I’m freezing, and we need lights in here.” Jay cocked an eyebrow as he stared at the tiny black book. “Is that thing safe?”
“Absolutely not.” I didn’t want to pursue this. Dread filled my every thought as doomsday scenarios played out in my head.
With trepidation, I flipped to the next page.
La Livre de la Morte
“This is the book!” I exclaimed.
“Great. I just knew it. It couldn’t have a little glittery unicorn on it or be a nice shade of pastel pink. It just had to be something made out of human skin and breathe on its own.” Jay paled slightly.
“We are trying to find a reaper. I can’t imagine they’d take interest and show up by offering cupcakes and teddy bears.” My fingers were ice cold from holding the book. Jay wasn’t wrong though: this shit was dark.
I flipped through the notebook, looking for something that would give us what we wanted. After studying several pages, I chanced upon a sole paragraph – something I had been looking for – at least we’d found one piece of useful information. A description of reapers, and it was in English.
Reapers: Also generically called Death. Solitary creatures that are neither dead nor alive, they are the bridge between life and death. Extraordinary long lives with the sole purpose of ensuring the departed are escorted to their next destination. They do not show the doorway, they are the doorway. Can only be exterminated by decapitation or complete destruction of the physical form. NOTE: Killing a reaper has serious consequences. Do not attempt.
I continued to peruse the book. A lot of the contents were in French, not surprising, given the title, but there were Latin, Italian, and what I thought might be Welsh languages in here too.
“How many languages did Shirley speak?” I asked Jay, shocked at the variety I saw.
“Ah, English as far as I know.”
“Huh, wild.” I continued to peruse the pages; Jay looked over my shoulder.
With every turn of a page the room seemed to get colder, darker. We were damn near at the end of the contents when finally…
“Invocation de la mort,” I said, brutalizing the accent. “I’m pretty sure this is what we want. But it’s all in French, and my knowledge isn’t that good.”
“That’s easy.” Jay whipped out his phone, tapped a few buttons and held his phone over the page. The camera captured the words written and immediately translated the spell.
As Jay and I read it together, my blood went cold.
“We’re not doing this,” Jay whispered.
“We don’t have much of a choice.” I swallowed, hard. Knowing what I had to do. “This is my responsibility.”
“No one is doing this. Period.” Jay’s mouth turned downward, not quite a frown, nor a grimace, but somewhere halfway between. “Absolutely not.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Besides, where the hell are we going to get ‘the heart of someone recently passed over’, or ‘the essence of the dead’? He was deliberately missing out the biggest component.
The touch turned into a tight grip, as if holding me in place. As much as he attempted to forbid what needed to come next with that gesture, I knew that he knew it had to be done. And not speaking the most heinous piece of the summoning meant he was trying to ignore the reality.
The only way to get a reaper to show up, was to die.
21
JAY
“Iwill not ask Sharon to do this.” I put my arms across my chest — partly in defence of my statement but more as a hidden hug, trying to comfort myself. The necessity of dealing with the violent onslaught of ghosts and being held captive in a safe house meant we needed to find out why we were missing a reaper.
That meant we had to summon one.
Summon something that wasn’t even present in our immediate vicinity, which explained why the ghosts were so damn angry.
But there was absolutely no way I was going through with this. I was not going to ask my ex-wife, and mother of our gifted child, to kill the psychic medium I now had my sights on.
“But, Jay, she’ll have access to the right drugs and can reverse the effects and, if nothing else, can perform CPR on me afterwards if that doesn’t work.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Fuck, no, we are not doing this.” I was trying my hardest to keep my voice down, knowing Sam was in the other room.
“I don’t know if we really have a choice.” Cade didn’t look good. He’d gone sombre. “Admittedly there are risks.”
“Yeah, like — oh, I don’t know — you die! Dude, you just walked into my life and turned it upside down, in a whole lotta good ways, but some kinda terrifying ones too. I’m not letting you do this.”
“Think of Sam.”
That stopped me cold. “Damn you.”
“Jay, this ghost thing isn’t going to stop. In fact, it’s going to get a whole lot worse. This is the only thing I know how to do, and I’d like to think I do it well. Let’s at least chat with Sharon first. Maybe she’ll have a better solution for the dead part.”
A small voice came from behind us. “Dad, I don’t want anyone to die.”
I spun around and standing at the entrance to the secret witch room stood Sam. His eyes were glassy, like he was about to cry. The kid had been through so much.
“I think it’s time to have a chat with Sam.” Cade said.
My head swung back toward my bear. I glared at Cade. I wanted to be angry with him, but I knew he was right.
I tuned back toward my son. “Sam, I don’t want anyone to die either. And no one is going to. Isn’t that right, Cade?”
“Jay, can I explain this to Sam? I promise to be as gentle as possible.”
I glanced between them. Memories of the past week ran through my mind in terrifying visions: Olivia when she was nothing more than a depression on the mattress. Olivia attacking Sam in my house the first night Cade slept over. Pam. Poor Pam, Officer Hycha, and the rest of the bodies in the morgue at the hospital, and finally, rescuing Sharon and Sam last night.
And then there was Cade—a massive human being who was quite possibly the gentlest creature I’d ever met, caring of everyone around him, with a heart of gold and generous to a fault. Not to mention sexy as hell. But coupled with that was the creepy as fuck, ghost-seeing, death looming guy I had, as of this morning, agreed to be boyfriends with? Did I do that?
There was something in my gut, an instinct, a foreshadowing that Cade and I could have a future together. Possibly. Maybe. As long as he didn’t actually die fixing Sam’s predicament.
I didn’t know what to do. I was at complete odds with myself.
But one thing was absolutely certain. I knew Cade would treat Sam with respect and take his best interests to heart.
Cade would never hurt Sam, and if anything, would protect him from the beasts I couldn’t. What this man was willing to do to help my son, laying down his own life. This was something I could never repay. Something I positively could say I would never do for someone I had just met.
Cade was a superhero.
Staring at him, pleading with my eyes and heart, I relinquished. “Please, Cade. As tender as possible.”
Cade nodded.
“Sam, do you remember a while ago you told me that Olivia was your imaginary friend? And that you’d had others, and they had all gone away?”
A very small voice replied, “Yeah.”
“Do you know where they went?”
Sam pointed to his chest.
“That’s right. You showed them the doorway to where they needed to go. Which was really brave of you. No one likes to lose friends. But sometimes we have to learn how to let go and allow our friends to be free. Does that make sense?”
Sam shook his head.
“Hmmm, let’s try this another way.” Cade pondered for a minute. “Sam, how do you feel when you can’t get past a boss level in your video games?”
Sam brightened up at the mention of his games. “Angry. I should be able to beat them.”
“Exactly,” Cade continued. “What do you have to do sometimes to beat that big monster on each level?”
“Sometimes”—Sam rolled his eyes—“I have to go all the way back to the beginning of the level and do it again, and again, and again, to get enough experience and strength, and sometimes special weapons that I missed.”
“Right. Sometimes you have to go back and do the work, figure things out, and finish your business before you can move on to the next level. Good job.”
“It’s hard though.”
“It is, isn’t it? Frustrating too. You know, your imaginary friends are like that too. Sometimes they have to stick around and figure things out, maybe even help others before they can move on to the next level. And you know what? You’re the boss monster. Olivia doesn’t want to have to fight hard to go up a level. She just wants to go.”
“I didn’t want her to go at first. I liked her. Now I’m scared of her.” Sam said, pulling away a little.
“I’m scared of her too. She got real mean.” Cade said. “But, I don’t think she’d be so angry if she could go, you know, through there.” Cade pointed at Sam.
“I don’t understand.” Sam screwed up his face, trying to figure things out.
“Every now and then someone really special comes along, someone like you. And they have a really important job to do, like the boss monster in the video game. That special someone helps spirits like Olivia. They make sure she’s ready to move up a level.” Sam was looking confused again. Cade tried a different tactic. “Have you ever beaten a level, just barely, and then when you got only a little bit past the last challenge, you find you keep losing in the game?”
“Oh, yeah. I hate it when that happens.”
“Why do you think it goes like that?”
“Usually because I’m missing something, and—”
“And you have to go back and get it. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re like that, Sam. You help the spirits make sure they’ve got all the things they need, the strength, the power, the understanding to move on to the next level. But I think you need help to understand how to do that. I might know someone who can do that, but they are really tough to get a hold of.
“The person I want you to meet should be able to teach you all the things you need to do to help other people like Olivia. You want to help her, right?”
“Only if she stops being scary.”
“That’s fair. If I found someone who would help you, and Olivia started being nicer, would you want to help her?”
“Yeah. I liked Olivia.”
“Okay, well, your dad, your mom, and I are going to have to do something really unusual in order to find someone to help you.”
“Can I help?” Sam asked.
This was going better than I thought. And I was super impressed with Cade’s ability to rationalize this all with Sam, without making it scary, or weird. Bringing it down to the level of his video games was smart.
That’s my psychic, ghost-hunting bear!
“I think we might need your help.” Cade winked at Sam, and for the first time in days, Sam smiled.
“You want me to do what?” Sharon said over the phone. I couldn’t blame her. I was asking a lot.
“Help us get a heart, and then make Cade dead, but for only a couple of minutes,” I said.
“You’re nuts. I could lose my license,” she yelled. Cade sat across the kitchen island from me. Thankfully, we had waited until Sam went to bed. No issues getting him to go tonight, seeing as how Olivia hadn’t made any extra unwanted appearances, and thankfully, no other possessed bodies had waltzed in through the front door — which we now kept locked for that very reason.
“Sharon, it’s the only way,” I begged. She was a good woman, and sensible, if not too pragmatic. But she’d seen almost as much as I had over the last day or so. And knowing now that she had the sight inherited from her great-grandmother, I was willing to bet there were many other instances throughout her life where she had encountered things she couldn’t understand and had never talked to me about them.
In all fairness, I probably would have thought she was crazy.
Not now.
“I’m still on shift. I can’t talk about this now.”
“Just think about it. Everything we found out has pointed us in this direction, and after all, you have some of the blame in this. I realize it wasn’t your fault, but…dammit, Sharon, we need your help.”
“I have to go.” The call ended as I glanced up at Cade. “She hung up.”
“I gathered.” Cade gave me a half-hearted smile.
From outside, a blinding swash of light flooded through the front windows.
“What the hell now?” I glanced toward the lights and then back at Cade.
He shrugged.
A moment later, we could hear voices and then a knock at the door.
I stiffened. I didn’t need another Billy Hycha incident.
Cade came around to me, placed a hand on my shoulder, stared at me, and winked. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone in who shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, well, how can you know?” I wasn’t convinced.
Cade looked out the window, then chuckled. He turned to look at me and said, “It’s okay. It’s the uncles.” Cade had a huge smile.
He opened the door, and three men came strolling in, each as big as the last.
“Hey, Jay!” Uncle Gally waved. “Looking after my nephew for us?” The smile he threw at me was nothing short of lascivious, and at that very moment, I thought I might crawl into my skin and die of embarrassment.
“Gally. Stop.” Cade admonished him. “Jay, come here, I want you to meet my two other uncles.” I slipped off the bar stool and stood beside Cade.
I was shorter than Cade, but these other three men were even bigger than him. I felt like a valley in between mountains. I was literally the hobbit amongst giants.
“Jay, this is my Uncle Kaven, and Uncle Andrei, but we just call them Kav and Andy.” There were handshakes all around. “I hope the roads weren’t too bad?”
“Nah, everything is ploughed out now. You didn’t have much in that wretched little studio of yours.” Uncle Gally said.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Well, we’re kind of held hostage here for the time being. I texted Gally and asked if he would mind driving down what few items I owned. If we’re going to be living here, we can’t do it on the bare bones and sparse rooms of this house.”
“Well,” Kav said, “your pathetic little apartment may not have had much in the way of furniture and…well, all the other things most adults need in a home, but as soon as Selina and Charity found out, they went shopping. And you know the girls love to shop.”
Cade turned to me. “Selina is Kav’s wife, and Charity is Andy’s very long-term girlfriend. The two of them are trouble together. But, like any other member of a Romani family, they jump in with both feet to help out the wayward soul.”
“Let me guess—”
“Oh, he’s most definitely the wayward soul,” Andy said. “So, who’s dead today?”
“Andy!” Gally admonished. “Harsh man. Harsh.”
“What?” Andy shrugged.
“Just, you know, unload the van. No more commentary,” Gally said.
The guys got to work hauling stuff in. I trundled on down the hallway to make sure Sam’s door was closed. It wouldn’t prevent all the noise of moving in the furniture, but it would reduce it, and I hoped he would sleep through it all. He had missed out on several nights worth of rest, and he was starting to show it.
“Ha!” Jay had started to pour himself a cup of coffee, and almost spilled it. “Well, at least I don’t have to explain that part to her.”
I instantly went red with embarrassment. “She knows though. Right? About — you know — you’re dating guys?” I asked, suddenly worried that Jay sleeping with another man would have been a shock. I flushed a little harder, thinking about that potential scenario, and me being the one standing in front of his ex, smelling like sex.
“Oh, ha! No, she knows. Again, she’ll make it tough for you at the beginning. You succeed and pass in her books, you’ll be part of the family. Stick around. It’s gonna get all kinds of fun.”
I relaxed a little with that, but still, Sharon was not someone to trifle with. “Well, the fun is only going to ramp up for you too, I think. We’re not done with the dead quite yet. Shall we go search for a book?”
“Ugh, do we have to?”
“Yes.” I gave him a wink, then waved him to come with me as I walked down the hall toward the primary bedroom and the secret witch room. Sam, being the good kid he was, continued to ignore us, while watching his cartoons. But out of my periphery, I spied him tracking us, and I suspected he had listened to every word we’d said.
“Oh my God, how many damn books did this woman own?” Jay opened yet another box filled to the brim with tomes, scrolls, and assorted diaries. There were at least another half-dozen boxes left. The floor of the secret room was littered with the box contents we had already pilfered.
“It’s a witch thing.” Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I flipped through the pages of one of Shirley’s many notebooks. I wasn’t finding anything that looked like it would help us locate a reaper. The musty smell from the books was making my nose itch. I knew most liked the smell of old books. I did not.
“Some of these things are creepy as fuck.” I glanced over at Jay, who had made colourful commentary on his discoveries from the treasure trove of witchy items. He held, between a pinched forefinger and thumb, a small wire-bound book. It’s outside cover appeared to be black leather. There were glyphs etched into the skin. The minute I laid eyes on it, I wondered.
“Jay, toss that over here.”
“Gladly.” He pitched it over to me, and I caught it, but the minute my hands touched it, my skin crawled. The room seemed darker. The air heavier. This book held nothing good between its pages. “If I were a betting man—”
Very cautiously, I opened the book, only to be greeted by an exhalation of breath, not from me, or from Jay.
The room became very cold, and very dark.
“Jay, am I seeing things?”
“Nope. I’m freezing, and we need lights in here.” Jay cocked an eyebrow as he stared at the tiny black book. “Is that thing safe?”
“Absolutely not.” I didn’t want to pursue this. Dread filled my every thought as doomsday scenarios played out in my head.
With trepidation, I flipped to the next page.
La Livre de la Morte
“This is the book!” I exclaimed.
“Great. I just knew it. It couldn’t have a little glittery unicorn on it or be a nice shade of pastel pink. It just had to be something made out of human skin and breathe on its own.” Jay paled slightly.
“We are trying to find a reaper. I can’t imagine they’d take interest and show up by offering cupcakes and teddy bears.” My fingers were ice cold from holding the book. Jay wasn’t wrong though: this shit was dark.
I flipped through the notebook, looking for something that would give us what we wanted. After studying several pages, I chanced upon a sole paragraph – something I had been looking for – at least we’d found one piece of useful information. A description of reapers, and it was in English.
Reapers: Also generically called Death. Solitary creatures that are neither dead nor alive, they are the bridge between life and death. Extraordinary long lives with the sole purpose of ensuring the departed are escorted to their next destination. They do not show the doorway, they are the doorway. Can only be exterminated by decapitation or complete destruction of the physical form. NOTE: Killing a reaper has serious consequences. Do not attempt.
I continued to peruse the book. A lot of the contents were in French, not surprising, given the title, but there were Latin, Italian, and what I thought might be Welsh languages in here too.
“How many languages did Shirley speak?” I asked Jay, shocked at the variety I saw.
“Ah, English as far as I know.”
“Huh, wild.” I continued to peruse the pages; Jay looked over my shoulder.
With every turn of a page the room seemed to get colder, darker. We were damn near at the end of the contents when finally…
“Invocation de la mort,” I said, brutalizing the accent. “I’m pretty sure this is what we want. But it’s all in French, and my knowledge isn’t that good.”
“That’s easy.” Jay whipped out his phone, tapped a few buttons and held his phone over the page. The camera captured the words written and immediately translated the spell.
As Jay and I read it together, my blood went cold.
“We’re not doing this,” Jay whispered.
“We don’t have much of a choice.” I swallowed, hard. Knowing what I had to do. “This is my responsibility.”
“No one is doing this. Period.” Jay’s mouth turned downward, not quite a frown, nor a grimace, but somewhere halfway between. “Absolutely not.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “Besides, where the hell are we going to get ‘the heart of someone recently passed over’, or ‘the essence of the dead’? He was deliberately missing out the biggest component.
The touch turned into a tight grip, as if holding me in place. As much as he attempted to forbid what needed to come next with that gesture, I knew that he knew it had to be done. And not speaking the most heinous piece of the summoning meant he was trying to ignore the reality.
The only way to get a reaper to show up, was to die.
21
JAY
“Iwill not ask Sharon to do this.” I put my arms across my chest — partly in defence of my statement but more as a hidden hug, trying to comfort myself. The necessity of dealing with the violent onslaught of ghosts and being held captive in a safe house meant we needed to find out why we were missing a reaper.
That meant we had to summon one.
Summon something that wasn’t even present in our immediate vicinity, which explained why the ghosts were so damn angry.
But there was absolutely no way I was going through with this. I was not going to ask my ex-wife, and mother of our gifted child, to kill the psychic medium I now had my sights on.
“But, Jay, she’ll have access to the right drugs and can reverse the effects and, if nothing else, can perform CPR on me afterwards if that doesn’t work.”
“Are you listening to yourself? Fuck, no, we are not doing this.” I was trying my hardest to keep my voice down, knowing Sam was in the other room.
“I don’t know if we really have a choice.” Cade didn’t look good. He’d gone sombre. “Admittedly there are risks.”
“Yeah, like — oh, I don’t know — you die! Dude, you just walked into my life and turned it upside down, in a whole lotta good ways, but some kinda terrifying ones too. I’m not letting you do this.”
“Think of Sam.”
That stopped me cold. “Damn you.”
“Jay, this ghost thing isn’t going to stop. In fact, it’s going to get a whole lot worse. This is the only thing I know how to do, and I’d like to think I do it well. Let’s at least chat with Sharon first. Maybe she’ll have a better solution for the dead part.”
A small voice came from behind us. “Dad, I don’t want anyone to die.”
I spun around and standing at the entrance to the secret witch room stood Sam. His eyes were glassy, like he was about to cry. The kid had been through so much.
“I think it’s time to have a chat with Sam.” Cade said.
My head swung back toward my bear. I glared at Cade. I wanted to be angry with him, but I knew he was right.
I tuned back toward my son. “Sam, I don’t want anyone to die either. And no one is going to. Isn’t that right, Cade?”
“Jay, can I explain this to Sam? I promise to be as gentle as possible.”
I glanced between them. Memories of the past week ran through my mind in terrifying visions: Olivia when she was nothing more than a depression on the mattress. Olivia attacking Sam in my house the first night Cade slept over. Pam. Poor Pam, Officer Hycha, and the rest of the bodies in the morgue at the hospital, and finally, rescuing Sharon and Sam last night.
And then there was Cade—a massive human being who was quite possibly the gentlest creature I’d ever met, caring of everyone around him, with a heart of gold and generous to a fault. Not to mention sexy as hell. But coupled with that was the creepy as fuck, ghost-seeing, death looming guy I had, as of this morning, agreed to be boyfriends with? Did I do that?
There was something in my gut, an instinct, a foreshadowing that Cade and I could have a future together. Possibly. Maybe. As long as he didn’t actually die fixing Sam’s predicament.
I didn’t know what to do. I was at complete odds with myself.
But one thing was absolutely certain. I knew Cade would treat Sam with respect and take his best interests to heart.
Cade would never hurt Sam, and if anything, would protect him from the beasts I couldn’t. What this man was willing to do to help my son, laying down his own life. This was something I could never repay. Something I positively could say I would never do for someone I had just met.
Cade was a superhero.
Staring at him, pleading with my eyes and heart, I relinquished. “Please, Cade. As tender as possible.”
Cade nodded.
“Sam, do you remember a while ago you told me that Olivia was your imaginary friend? And that you’d had others, and they had all gone away?”
A very small voice replied, “Yeah.”
“Do you know where they went?”
Sam pointed to his chest.
“That’s right. You showed them the doorway to where they needed to go. Which was really brave of you. No one likes to lose friends. But sometimes we have to learn how to let go and allow our friends to be free. Does that make sense?”
Sam shook his head.
“Hmmm, let’s try this another way.” Cade pondered for a minute. “Sam, how do you feel when you can’t get past a boss level in your video games?”
Sam brightened up at the mention of his games. “Angry. I should be able to beat them.”
“Exactly,” Cade continued. “What do you have to do sometimes to beat that big monster on each level?”
“Sometimes”—Sam rolled his eyes—“I have to go all the way back to the beginning of the level and do it again, and again, and again, to get enough experience and strength, and sometimes special weapons that I missed.”
“Right. Sometimes you have to go back and do the work, figure things out, and finish your business before you can move on to the next level. Good job.”
“It’s hard though.”
“It is, isn’t it? Frustrating too. You know, your imaginary friends are like that too. Sometimes they have to stick around and figure things out, maybe even help others before they can move on to the next level. And you know what? You’re the boss monster. Olivia doesn’t want to have to fight hard to go up a level. She just wants to go.”
“I didn’t want her to go at first. I liked her. Now I’m scared of her.” Sam said, pulling away a little.
“I’m scared of her too. She got real mean.” Cade said. “But, I don’t think she’d be so angry if she could go, you know, through there.” Cade pointed at Sam.
“I don’t understand.” Sam screwed up his face, trying to figure things out.
“Every now and then someone really special comes along, someone like you. And they have a really important job to do, like the boss monster in the video game. That special someone helps spirits like Olivia. They make sure she’s ready to move up a level.” Sam was looking confused again. Cade tried a different tactic. “Have you ever beaten a level, just barely, and then when you got only a little bit past the last challenge, you find you keep losing in the game?”
“Oh, yeah. I hate it when that happens.”
“Why do you think it goes like that?”
“Usually because I’m missing something, and—”
“And you have to go back and get it. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re like that, Sam. You help the spirits make sure they’ve got all the things they need, the strength, the power, the understanding to move on to the next level. But I think you need help to understand how to do that. I might know someone who can do that, but they are really tough to get a hold of.
“The person I want you to meet should be able to teach you all the things you need to do to help other people like Olivia. You want to help her, right?”
“Only if she stops being scary.”
“That’s fair. If I found someone who would help you, and Olivia started being nicer, would you want to help her?”
“Yeah. I liked Olivia.”
“Okay, well, your dad, your mom, and I are going to have to do something really unusual in order to find someone to help you.”
“Can I help?” Sam asked.
This was going better than I thought. And I was super impressed with Cade’s ability to rationalize this all with Sam, without making it scary, or weird. Bringing it down to the level of his video games was smart.
That’s my psychic, ghost-hunting bear!
“I think we might need your help.” Cade winked at Sam, and for the first time in days, Sam smiled.
“You want me to do what?” Sharon said over the phone. I couldn’t blame her. I was asking a lot.
“Help us get a heart, and then make Cade dead, but for only a couple of minutes,” I said.
“You’re nuts. I could lose my license,” she yelled. Cade sat across the kitchen island from me. Thankfully, we had waited until Sam went to bed. No issues getting him to go tonight, seeing as how Olivia hadn’t made any extra unwanted appearances, and thankfully, no other possessed bodies had waltzed in through the front door — which we now kept locked for that very reason.
“Sharon, it’s the only way,” I begged. She was a good woman, and sensible, if not too pragmatic. But she’d seen almost as much as I had over the last day or so. And knowing now that she had the sight inherited from her great-grandmother, I was willing to bet there were many other instances throughout her life where she had encountered things she couldn’t understand and had never talked to me about them.
In all fairness, I probably would have thought she was crazy.
Not now.
“I’m still on shift. I can’t talk about this now.”
“Just think about it. Everything we found out has pointed us in this direction, and after all, you have some of the blame in this. I realize it wasn’t your fault, but…dammit, Sharon, we need your help.”
“I have to go.” The call ended as I glanced up at Cade. “She hung up.”
“I gathered.” Cade gave me a half-hearted smile.
From outside, a blinding swash of light flooded through the front windows.
“What the hell now?” I glanced toward the lights and then back at Cade.
He shrugged.
A moment later, we could hear voices and then a knock at the door.
I stiffened. I didn’t need another Billy Hycha incident.
Cade came around to me, placed a hand on my shoulder, stared at me, and winked. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone in who shouldn’t be here.”
“Yeah, well, how can you know?” I wasn’t convinced.
Cade looked out the window, then chuckled. He turned to look at me and said, “It’s okay. It’s the uncles.” Cade had a huge smile.
He opened the door, and three men came strolling in, each as big as the last.
“Hey, Jay!” Uncle Gally waved. “Looking after my nephew for us?” The smile he threw at me was nothing short of lascivious, and at that very moment, I thought I might crawl into my skin and die of embarrassment.
“Gally. Stop.” Cade admonished him. “Jay, come here, I want you to meet my two other uncles.” I slipped off the bar stool and stood beside Cade.
I was shorter than Cade, but these other three men were even bigger than him. I felt like a valley in between mountains. I was literally the hobbit amongst giants.
“Jay, this is my Uncle Kaven, and Uncle Andrei, but we just call them Kav and Andy.” There were handshakes all around. “I hope the roads weren’t too bad?”
“Nah, everything is ploughed out now. You didn’t have much in that wretched little studio of yours.” Uncle Gally said.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Well, we’re kind of held hostage here for the time being. I texted Gally and asked if he would mind driving down what few items I owned. If we’re going to be living here, we can’t do it on the bare bones and sparse rooms of this house.”
“Well,” Kav said, “your pathetic little apartment may not have had much in the way of furniture and…well, all the other things most adults need in a home, but as soon as Selina and Charity found out, they went shopping. And you know the girls love to shop.”
Cade turned to me. “Selina is Kav’s wife, and Charity is Andy’s very long-term girlfriend. The two of them are trouble together. But, like any other member of a Romani family, they jump in with both feet to help out the wayward soul.”
“Let me guess—”
“Oh, he’s most definitely the wayward soul,” Andy said. “So, who’s dead today?”
“Andy!” Gally admonished. “Harsh man. Harsh.”
“What?” Andy shrugged.
“Just, you know, unload the van. No more commentary,” Gally said.
The guys got to work hauling stuff in. I trundled on down the hallway to make sure Sam’s door was closed. It wouldn’t prevent all the noise of moving in the furniture, but it would reduce it, and I hoped he would sleep through it all. He had missed out on several nights worth of rest, and he was starting to show it.
