Date: 2012-10-09 18:23:19+00:00
Keywords: Love & Romance; Juvenile Fiction; General; Romance; Ghosts; Paranormal Romance; Fantasy; Paranormal; Ireland; Paranormal; Occult & Supernatural; Young Adult; Vampires
Description: Empath and Pathcrosser to the dead, Lillian Hunt has finally come into her own as a Sentient being. All seems well in her brave new world...that is, until a tragic turn sends her tight-knit Sentient group on a rescue mission through lore-infested Europe. Their goal is to save the love of Lily's life-vampire Sentient, William Maddox-from both the prejudice of their own society and the dark intentions of ancient vampires. But how will they keep hope alive, even as time runs out? Circle of Light is a brilliant finale to The Light Series. DeLucy once again delivers gripping paranormal encounters,
Publisher: Simon and Schuster

Cover

Title Page

Circle of Light

The Light series book three

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Jennifer DeLucy

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Omnific Publishing

Los Angeles

Copyright Information

Circle of Light, Copyright © 2014 by Jennifer DeLucy

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

...

Omnific Publishing

1901 Avenue of the Stars, 2nd Floor

Los Angeles, California 90067
www.omnificpublishing.com

...

Circle of Light first published by Omnific Publishing, October 2012

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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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Library of Congress Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

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DeLucy, Jennifer.

Circle of Light / Jennifer DeLucy – 1st ed

ISBN: 978-1-936305-67-4

1. Love—Fiction. 2. Paranormal—Fiction. 3. Romance—Fiction. 4. Ghosts—Fiction. I. Title

...

Cover Designs by Micha Stone and Amy Brokaw
Interior Book Design by Coreen Montagna

Dedication

Dedicated to my greatest mystery.
I’ll know the sound of your voice.

Prologue

According to Thomas Ward

W HERE C ITIES W ERE C ONCERNED, I’d always preferred Edinburgh. It was quite an amicable place. The people seemed jolly, the pubs warm, and the hills rolled green in the backdrop of the city while age old buildings competed for lure. All in all, a trip to Edinburgh was usually quite pleasant for me, but I was dubious of its charms today. This had little to do with the misty rain, the chill that clung to my clothes and soaked through my rain coat, and more to do with the occasion than anything else.

The Grand Masonic Lodge of Edinburgh was built of strong, gray stone, its walls thick and handsome as any proud Scottish structure should be. For generations, the location had served as a lodge of Freemasonry, but also, and much more secretively, the meeting place of the Worldwide Society of Seers.

No one bothered to question the yearly meetings of the Council of Seers for two reasons. Firstly, they took place on a Sunday when, to the public’s knowledge, the building was closed to all but the Masons, who could come and go as they pleased, and secondly, a select tier of the Masonic organization knew of the existence of Sentient humans and had known for some time. So today, as they’d done at least once every year, the Society’s Council of Seers and their Sentient representatives would meet under little concealment. After all, it was always wise to hide in plain sight.

The guard at the door was a rather lean fellow, but that was just fine. He was not here for the showcase of brawn but rather to alert the Seers to any unexpected visitor or the rare misplaced tourist. He was, of course, a Sentient—and I recognized him from gatherings past.

“Guid morning, Mr. Ward!” He nodded to me.

“Hello, Leonard. How are you?”

“Oh, A’m fine. An ye?”

“Quite well, thank you,” I said, shaking my hat and umbrella free of rain as I entered the building.

The immediate room was formal, with deep woods and expensive floor coverings extending down corridor after corridor. A large, tarnished chandelier hung from the ceiling, adding to the regality of the entry space. It was just as any formal building should be, with the exception of the brightly glowing guests bustling around the main area just outside the meeting hall.

I knew every Seer and Council representative by name, and most of them were still outside the main hall, speaking guardedly in their own large circle. Samuel Urich of London, stooped over with cane in hand, was the eldest Seer and the spokesman, and Phyllis Stewart, Scotland born, was the youngest in her late forties. Vaclav Skala traveled from the Czech Republic and never missed a meeting. He was the sternest of the bunch, but if you asked me (and people frequently did), Judy Lynn Campbell, Council representative from Dallas, Texas, was the most cutthroat. She may not have been a Seer, but her years of observation and training with the Council had earned her a coveted spot among their representatives. Such a position had once been offered to me, in fact, but I couldn’t abide the idea of sitting still for so long.

My favorite Seer among them was Calliope Smith of Ireland, and of the representatives, Yoji Sato of Tokyo. They were mild mannered and jovial, rarely cross or quick to judge, and I was relieved to see them in attendance. The two of them, at least, would be a support to my favorite Seer of all—Abram Saru, South African by ancestry and utterly lovable by nature.

My dearest friend must have been inside the meeting hall, as I couldn’t find him in the crowd. Heaven help Abram—he was about to take part in a controversial inquiry, and though the other Seers, being psychically gifted and privy to certain information, should’ve had an inkling of the end result, they were continuing with this charade, this stroking of egos, just the same.

You see, Abram Saru had committed an act that many of the Seers considered quite perilous, an act that would have been acceptable enough if bestowed upon a human, but that hadn’t been the case. Abram had returned a human soul to a vampire, and worse, he’d done it without the express knowledge and consent of the Society. Then, as if he hadn’t already shaken them up enough, my friend wished the vampire to join his Sentient group, and the adoption of a vampire was a bit more than they could handle. No matter what value or wisdom could be found in Abram’s intentions, the other Seers were holding a grudge, and they wouldn’t bend easily.

“Thomas!” Calliope spotted me through the gathering of Seers and motioned for me to join them. “I was beginning to wonder if we’d see you here,” she said, hugging me.

“The train was late. Hello, Yoji…everyone,” I offered.

“Hello, Thomas.” Yoji smiled. “How are you? Still in London?”

“No, Manchester for six months now.”

“Ah, yes. It’s good that you’re here,” Yoji said. “Will you offer your thoughts today?”

“Quite right,” I said. “Happy to do it.”

Yoji nodded, his eyes shifting subtly to gauge the group’s reaction. The Seers were prone to seek my intermediacy with their causes. They had often called upon me in matters needing arbitration, as I’d been trained in the ways of British law, and so, should some dispute arise within a Sentient group or amongst the Seers themselves, the Council was confident in my abilities to advise them as an attorney and a fellow Sentient. But this occasion presented a conflict of interests. Abram was my oldest friend, my greatest friend, and since he couldn’t sit upon the Council in this case, I would align with his cause as best as I was able.

“We’d better move along now,” Samuel Urich said.

Lagging behind, I waited for the others to proceed before entering the hall myself.

At the head of the room, behind three levels of wooden chairs, was a pipe organ. The Seers took their respective places in front of it while I searched for Abram and his people and found them seated in the center front, directly before the Council. On the right side of the room, between two Sentient guards who were likely Combatants, was the whole reason for this particular event—one William Maddox. The youthful looking vampire sat with his hands clasped in his lap and his eyes on his feet. He wore the expression of someone ashamed and bound for defeat. You had to take pity on him. He was no longer fully vampire, nor was he fully human, and as I’d sensed from my initial meeting with him, he was as contrite as anyone could be. Whatever his body had been capable of as a vampire, surely his soul should not be held responsible.

Abram saw me and smiled, and I neared him, taking a seat in the row of chairs behind his party. “My friend,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.

“Good morning to you, Thomas.” Abram looked back, still smiling.

“Abram, do you know the agenda for this meeting? How will it be held?” I asked him.

“I suppose it will be the same as any Sentient hearing,” Abram said.

As I had feared. It was simply ludicrous to try a Seer over such a thing as this. Abram had committed no crime. He had harmed no one. In light of this, it seemed that most of the Council was present for comeuppance, and only that.

“Eh hem.” Samuel cleared his throat, and we looked toward the front. “Good morning, we are here…” he began, his voice withering before he wheezed and began again. “We’re here to discuss the matter of Abram Saru, fellow Seer, and his actions with regard to William Maddox, vampire Sentient in question.

“Furthermore, we’re here to determine the suitability of said vampire Sentient, being untested and, in the opinion of many, untrustworthy for the time being, for inclusion in a Sentient group. Am I making myself clear?” He directed the question toward Abram.

Abram nodded and Samuel continued. “Now, first item of concern—the channeling of a human spirit into a vampire. What have you to say about this?”

Abram stood. “Council, I can only say that William obviously wished for restoration, as his spirit was present with his body for the act.”

“As you say,” Vaclav spoke up. “But this was a circumstance of tremendous risk. The action could have ended with dire consequences. Had you any way to guarantee the outcome?”

“Vaclav, I was certain enough that—”

“Certain enough?” Vaclav questioned. “That’s hardly grounds to exclude the guidance of your Council.”

“You must forgive me, Vaclav, but I didn’t think, at the time, that you would be offended. I only wished to save him, you see. Mr. Maddox’s body was near to dying, and taking time for deliberation would only have ended in tragedy.”

“It could have ended in tragedy either way!” Judy Lynn Campbell responded, her western American accent in stark contrast to the others.

“Doubtful,” Abram said. “I was convinced otherwise.”

“But what of his mind control?” Vaclav added. “You had no concerns that he was manipulating you?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Well, aren’t you confident,” Judy Lynn spoke flatly. “And the entirety of your group has voted to keep Mr. Maddox around?”

“The majority of us, yes.”

“The majority?”

“All but one,” Abram said.

“And who would that be?”

“One of my Combatants. Christian Wright.”

Judy Lynn peered at Abram’s Sentients. “Christian Wright? That’s your son, isn’t it, Clara?”

Clara Wright, who had been seated in silence beside Abram until now, answered soberly. “Yes. Christian is my son.”

“And where is he today?”

“He chose not to attend. He’s…he’s traveling at the moment.”

“I see. And may I ask why your boy opposes his own mother’s vote?”

“Because he’s in pain. We’ve just lost my husband and Christian isn’t thinking properly.”

“Either that or he’s the only one of your group who is thinking properly.”

“Judy Lynn…” Samuel silenced her. “Abram, please address the previous question. Why did you feel justified in acting with such haste?”

“Because in my heart, I believed Mr. Maddox was intended for this life—for Sentience once again. He still has a purpose here. Can you not see this? Any of you?”

A few members shifted in their seats but said nothing. If the Council could imagine what Abram had said, they wouldn’t let on.

“Regardless,” Samuel said, “we must be cautious. It seems advisable to keep him under observation of some sort.”

“For how long?” Abram asked.

“I couldn’t say. Until we’re confident that he’s more human than anything else. Perhaps a few years, maybe longer. Though, this raises a new question. How will he live? How will he survive? He’ll certainly not be permitted to feed on humans.”

“Most certainly not,” Abram answered. “I’ve already arranged to have this taken care of in a way that’s mutually beneficial to all parties.”

“And what is that?”

“The ingestion of vampire blood,” Abram explained. “I’ve already tested the theory, and it has proven successful.”

“But that still doesn’t satisfy the matter of mind control. He should be held in confinement.”

“Samuel, he’s no criminal. He’s not dangerous and he’s suffered enough,” Abram said. “I can assure you that the torment his mind endures, the memory of what acts the body committed while—”

Judy Lynn interrupted, “To err on the side of safety, I’d advise we follow Samuel’s suggestion. Keep Mr. Maddox in confinement, away from other humans for a time, just to make sure. What do you say, Council?”

“I’d have to agree,” Vaclav said.

The other Seers exchanged looks, and Calliope sighed. “I just don’t know about this, Samuel. It seems like there should be a better way.”

“Yes,” Yoji agreed. “Surely there must.”

“Well, I can see no other,” Samuel concluded. Vaclav and Judy Lynn nodded their agreement, and I knew that, should the Council vote on the matter, Abram’s cause would be lost.

I stood up. “May I say something?”

Samuel lowered his head, peering at me from above his spectacles. “Of course.”

“Thank you, Samuel. I ask a favor. I’d like to hear from William himself, if this is permissible. I should like him to answer some questions in the presence of the Council.”

Judy Lynn bristled, sitting up straight and turning to Vaclav to share a disapproving look.

“For what purpose?” Samuel asked.

“Well, Calliope, you’re an Empath,” I said to her. “While remaining out of range of enthrallment, I’d like for you to tell me if you sense any lesser motives, any harmful emotions from Mr. Maddox. Would this be permissible?”

Samuel frowned, looking displeased with the direction of things, but he sat back, nodding curtly. “Fine, then.”

“Thank you. Now, William, would you please rise?”

William did as instructed, and Calliope left her seat to stand at a short distance in front of him.

“Mr. Maddox, I’d like for you to explain to us what possessed the vampire inhabiting your body to visit Abram Saru for help,” she asked.

William raised his face to her, his green eyes intense and purposeful. “From what I can piece together, this body—at the insistence of its mind—didn’t want to kill anymore. It wouldn’t kill. And it was weak.”

“I see. And so, a mind, without the conscience of a soul, was strong enough to combat its inhumanity and seek help, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And what happened after you were restored to your body?” Calliope asked.

“I…I felt the full weight of what the vampire had done for thirty years.”

“And the result?”

William swallowed, his jaw tightening for a moment before responding. “I decided that it would be best if I were dead.”

The Council remained unmoved, with the exception of Yoji and Calliope, who were clearly affected by this.

I asked a question of my own. “Abram informs me that you asked the late Daniel Wright to kill you. Is this correct?”

William paused, for surprise or regret I couldn’t say. “Yes.”

“And he refused?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Daniel Wright didn’t believe I was evil.”

“I see. And do you believe that you could effectively practice Sentience again? That you could serve the Society and live in peace among us?”

“Yes. I do.”

“And you wish for this?”

“Very much.”

I nodded. “In fact, you’ve already proven yourself quite useful, haven’t you? You served as a spy for Abram in Vancouver?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Mr. Maddox. That’s all. Calliope? What have you found?”

“Well, he certainly does give off human emotions,” she said in a sad voice. “I detect Sentient ability, I detect vampire ability, but his emotions—they’re very human.”

“And the sincerity of his claims?”

She held eyes with him just a moment more. “They’re true,” she said, nodding with finality.

“Thank you, Calliope. Council? Is it such a leap of faith, allowing Mr. Maddox to remain with Abram’s group?”

“Thomas, it’s hardly as easy as that,” Samuel stated. “It would be foolish, in my opinion, to allow Abram’s Sentients to return to the United States with a vampire Sentient, of all things, and no Council supervision.”

“And what if you sent a representative?” I asked.

“Who? It would have to be a Sentient that I trusted implicitly. There aren’t many of those alive today,” said Samuel.

“All right, then. I’ll go.”

“You’ll…What?”

“I’ll go with them.”

“But, Thomas, you have roots here. You’re a British Sentient.”

“Oh, pish tosh. I have no family left alive. No real close ties. If Abram would have me, I’d gladly join his group and keep an eye on things myself.”

“Are you serious? You would move to America? For this?”

“I would. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good travel.”

“And you would report to me often?”

“Religiously.”

“Even the most inane of suspicions?”

“The very merest.”

“Well…Council?” Samuel turned to his Seers once again.

Yoji agreed as did Calliope, and Vaclav muttered, “I’ll defer to your judgment.” But Judy Lynn wasn’t so convinced.

“My opinion still stands, though it’s clear I’m overruled,” she complained. “I think this is a dangerous decision, period. But, if you all insist on going along with this nonsense, then I’ll remind this Council that Abram still acted without permission, so I’d at least suggest a reduction of funding as consequence.”

“Yes. That does seem fair,” Samuel said. “I’m sorry, Abram, but your group will have to make do on a lesser stipend until we can be sure of its reliability.”

Abram nodded.

“Well, then. Meeting adjourned.”

quotation

Our life is not so much threatened as our perception.
Ghostlike we glide through nature
and should not know our place again.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter One

Five Years Later
According to Lillian Hunt

T HE M OON W AS N EW, and I could barely see a foot in front of me. It was irritating as hell, wandering around in the dark like this. I’d already smacked my hip into a water pump and tripped on an aboveground root. The universe was either trying to kill me or writing a great slapstick comedy at my expense. The night sounds—owls, crickets, frogs—were driving me to distraction as well, and though nature was lovely enough, I preferred when it didn’t crawl up my legs and bite me in the ass.

“Left center, Lily,” William whispered.

“What? There’s nothing left center.”

“Left center,” he said, chuckling. “I’m telling you.”

“How do you know? Would you let me handle this? I’m the Pathcrosser. I should at least be feeling an— ugh!”

Oh, I was feeling things now—mainly the wet grass against my back and the cold breath of a well-formed astral—that of a Revolutionary soldier—as he leaned over me. He pressed a surprisingly hard bayonet against my neck. Man, did he look pissed.

“Are you a liaison?” he asked. “Who are you working for? And why are you dressed so strangely?”

“Well, you first. Who are you working for?”

“Me?” He straightened. “General George Washington, of course. I’m Admiral Levi Ruth.”

“Uh, then, that’s who I’m working for.”

“Is that right? You think I’m a fool? There are no women in General Washington’s infantry. Who are you, really?” he asked, the cold mist of his bayonet brushing my chin again.

“Okay. Easy with the sharp stuff, there, soldier. William…” I turned to my fiancé. “Tell him. We work for General Washington.”

William shook his head. “I’m letting you handle it.”

“Are you serious?”

“What? You’re the Pathcrosser.”

“Are you serious?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll help on one condition.”

The Admiral peered down at me. “Who are you talking to?”

I ignored the soldier and spoke to William. “What condition?”

“Tell me why you’re not wearing your ring.”

“Oh, come on…”

“What?”

Admiral Ruth lost his patience. “I said who are you talking to?”

“You can’t see him?” I asked the soldier.

“See who?”

“I guess not.” Son of a bitch. “William, this isn’t the best time.”

“You’re absolutely right.” He nodded. “I’ll just shut up and let you do your job.”

Great. I returned my attention to the Admiral. “So, if I told you I was working for, like, God, would you believe me?”

“God? Are you a servant of the clergy? A nursemaid?”

“Eh, sure.”

“Oh. Well, we have several gravely wounded. We could use your tending.”

“Right. Okay. But I’d like to tend to you first.”

“Tend to me? I’m well.”

“No, you’re not. Take a look at your stomach.”

The soldier let his eyes fall to his middle, where a gaping red wound soaked his shirt with blood. He grabbed himself, doubling over. “What did you do to me?” he asked, convulsing. I leaned in and we locked eyes. Suddenly, the world jerked away, and I was drawn into the timeless hole of the In Between—the place that existed only in the interim of this life and the next. As the spinning settled, all was blackness.

“Levi, pay attention, because you’re going to see a light in a minute, okay?”

“Where—where are we?” he sputtered, choking on blood.

“We’re okay. I didn’t hurt you, Levi. The truth is that you were shot a very long time ago and you’ve been haunting this place for a few hundred years. You’re dead, do you understand me? You need to get going, Admiral. That light has been waiting for a while.”

“Dead?” he questioned, his eyes going wide, and then he stilled, moving his hand from his stomach to reveal that the wound was gone, the blood had disappeared. He stood up. “What are you?”

“I’m kind of a nursemaid for your soul, I guess,” I said, smiling.

“And that light.” He nodded behind me. “What does it do?”

“It takes you to the next leg of your mission,” I said. “You want your life to continue, Levi?”

He nodded.

“Then go.”

He stared at his light cautiously. “Am I dreaming?”

“You have been. But no, not anymore.”

He swallowed, squinting into his own personal gateway. I could imagine what it must have looked like, since I saw light energy all the time, but this was probably so much greater, so much more.

Levi took a few wary steps forward, then apparently liking whatever he saw or felt, he smiled and walked full stride into nothing, disappearing instantly. The world rushed back to me, and I took a huge breath.

“Done?” William asked.

I scowled. “You could’ve helped me out with the bayonet situation.”

“Hey, I didn’t want to interject my lesser abilities.” He held out a hand to help me up, but I refused it, grumbling that I didn’t appreciate being mocked. I pushed myself off the ground and walked away from him.

“Lily,” William said, stepping in front of me. “Where’s the ring?”

I stopped. “At home.”

“Why?”

“Because…don’t laugh.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Because I haven’t bought yours yet,” I explained.

“Mine?” he laughed. “Lil, you don’t have to do that. Men don’t wear engagement rings.”

“And why not?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with not wanting to look like a rap star or a nineteenth century monarch.”

“It doesn’t have to be a diamond. Just a band…a plain band.”

“A plain band?” He smiled patiently. “But I’ll have one of those when we’re married.”

“It’s not the same.”

“How so?”

“Well, that diamond that you want me to wear, it means I belong to you, right? It means everyone else should back off or you’ll shoot them in the nuts, yes?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t react quite so violently as that…”

“Details. So it works both ways. A one-sided ring situation is an antiquated notion.”

“Reasonable. And this means a lot to you?”

“Of course. It means equality. It means that I’m not the only one belonging to anybody. I’m not property.”

“As if I’d ever treat you like property. As if you’d let me.”

“That’s not the point. It’s a symbol.”

“A symbol.”

“Yes.”

“Of our equality.”

“Exactly.”

He grinned, clearly entertained, and took my arms to wrap around his shoulders. “If you want me to wear your ring, I’ll wear your ring. In fact, we can hex the thing so that any woman who ever looks at me is instantly repelled into a field of manure. It’ll be hilarious.”

“Shut up. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So you’re not mad anymore?”

“No.”

“Then why are you frowning?”

“I’m cold. And reduced temperatures make me grumpy.”

“I see. Well, here.” He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, kissing my cheek. “What if…” He let his mouth rest against my ear. “What if I raised your temperature?”

I stopped breathing. “Like how?”

“Well, we are alone.”

I gulped. “Are you suggesting that we play with your bayonet?”

“Call it whatever you want.”

“Where?”

He nodded toward the shadowed shape of a small building. Fort Washington State Park in Pennsylvania showcased these cabins to tourists year round. They were once temporary winter shelters for soldiers on the move during the Revolutionary War, but now they were relics. The tiny building that William had in mind was antique, indeed. The door was closed and locked at this hour, but we’d been here earlier, and I knew what the building contained. Behind a rope was an antique four poster bed, a wash basin, and a writing desk. All of them were ages old—probably worth thousands of dollars. I smirked and let William lead me onto the small porch. He stared at the door and something clicked, then it creaked open.

“Creepy.”

William held the door for me, and I ventured into the musty, dark space.

“Oh, sure, make me go in first. You know, William, if there’s anything in here for me to cross over, I’ll—” His lips found me in the dark and silenced my complaint. I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel his hands all over me, pressing my back against the rough logs of the inside walls.

“The dark,” he whispered along my neck. “It magnifies every feeling.”

I nodded, but that was about it. It was enough that I could breathe.

He slid a hand up my side and over a breast. “And I’d really like to magnify your feelings, Lily.” He feathered across the still-clothed skin.

“Okay,” I sighed. He was using his energy again, a practice I typically shunned for the sake of fair play.

“I’m wondering, have I ever done this?” he asked, raising my arms above my head and splaying them to the side so he could press himself flush against me. A swirling, static heat passed from his body into mine, causing my knees to buckle. He covered my mouth with his as I moaned, and finally, unable to stand it any longer, I broke away.

“Please…”

He didn’t answer, but released my arms and shifted in the dark. Then I heard the leathery sound of his belt pulling free and his jeans unzipping.

“Are we even going for the bed?” I asked.

He offered a throaty laugh, and I barely had time to get a leg around him before he was inside of me.

He was so right—total darkness was my new best friend.

The smell of his hair, the taste of his breath, and the electric tingling of his skin was doubly heightened in the blackness. And, of course, there was the pleasure of my name issuing from his lips in a groan and his whispered question, “Do you feel me?”

I was so screwed—literally—so completely oblivious, and I didn’t really care that he was moving me away from the wall, walking us across the room. I didn’t even bother to try to generate any of my own energy for light so that I could see where I was going. William was partly vampire. He could see perfectly in the dark, and if there was any threat of my falling over something, he’d have skirted it—maybe.

At the very least he’d offer me a hand as he laughed.

I squealed as he bounced me onto the bed. “Hey! Will you watch it? This thing is historical…and it has no springs.”

“Wah, wah, wah,” he teased and leaned over to kiss me deeply, lowering himself to have me again. Somewhere in the back of my head, the sounds of the rickety old mattress and the wooden frame popping and splitting registered as foreboding, but I certainly didn’t care enough to call off the party.

We moved together with a building pace that neared frantic, the sounds of our breathing in competition with the creaking mattress, and when we exploded, so did the bed, collapsing under our weight with a splintering thud. I clapped a hand over my mouth, laughing like crazy.

“Shame,” William said. “Maybe I can fix it. I’m glad it waited until we finished, though.”

Sure, we felt bad for breaking a minor piece of national history, but mostly, I wondered what the caretakers would think when they found the wreckage.

***

Abram had been on the phone a lot lately, and he really didn’t like phones much, so this was a point of concern. It seemed that the Society was keeping our Seer under a very heavy thumb lately, and while I wasn’t certain of the details, I’d learned that our recently deceased Sentient, Thomas Ward, had joined Abram’s group for the purpose of reassuring the Society of William’s credibility. He’d been here to keep the Council at bay. Now that Thomas was gone, everyone in our group had an eye on the Council of Seers, wondering how they’d react. So far, they hadn’t…and that was making us more nervous than anything else.

Meanwhile, our Seer was looking more and more tired these days. The wrinkles in his forehead were deeper set, and his smile, though always immensely comforting, was a fainter version of what it used to be. The dark brown skin of his hand spread thinly over old bones, which shook under the weight of his head.

He sat at the end of the kitchen table, speaking low into the phone. Abram had been talking to Hyde Ballinger, the registrar with the American Secretariat Branch of the Society, about finalizing the legal paperwork for my engagement to William. It seemed there was always some delay in the process, always a new form or new signature needed, and it meant that we’d been going in circles for months now. The registrar was usually pleasant enough over the phone, but there was no way to know for sure what sort of character we were dealing with unless I met him in person. Empath or not, I couldn’t sense people’s emotions from across the country.

I could sense Abram’s, though, and he was concerned.

The Seer had assured me it was simply a tricky process to clear a marriage through the Society, especially considering William and I were both Sentients and our union would limit the group’s ability to separate and reassign to new locations. I, however, wasn’t buying it.

I suspected there was more to the picture than that, and I worried that William’s past, his history as a vampire, was stalling the Society’s consent. But I wasn’t going to panic quite yet. William had met with a Society member named Yoji Sato in Cambridge just a few months earlier, and according to William, that meeting had gone well. Surely things would be okay. After all, what did the Society care who I married?

Abram hung up the phone and I sat beside him. “Any movement?”

He sighed, smiling. “None yet. Mr. Ballinger needed more information.”

“Of course. What was is this time? The sequence of my DNA? My eating habits after seven p.m.?”

“Ah, Lily. I fear this is much the same as an international marriage, my dear. Many hoops to jump through.”

I frowned. “I’ve held off on setting a date for so long, and now that I’ve chosen one, they’d better not mess things up! My grandmother is hounding me relentlessly, Abram. She claims she’s going to disown me if she dies before I’m married.”

“Oh, dear,” Abram laughed. “But, if she’s moved on to her next life, however will she know to disown you?”

“Try asking her that. She’d find a way.”

“Understood. And Hyde seems certain things will be in order by December.”

“They’d better be, or the Society is going to have to answer to me.”

“Indeed.”

And I meant it. But for now, I’d think positive. After all, Abram always said that whatever energy we gave out, we’d get back, so I’d just hold off on the pessimism.

Things were nice in our group right now—peaceful, really. The dynamic of the house was balanced for the first time in a long while. William and I were no longer hiding our engagement from the others, though we’d had to at first, due to William being partly vampire. Not everyone would’ve taken issue with this, but there was a time when Christian Wright had.

Christian had retrieved me from my former life. He’d saved me from a near fatal run-in with a vampire before I even knew what a vampire was. I would always be grateful to him for that, but he’d also been a total asshole for a while—mainly in matters regarding my love life. Still, if one could imagine a dramatic shift in character, his was a prime example.

When I’d first announced my engagement, Christian had lost his head because he’d passionately hated William—and the reasons were complex. In part, my Combatant friend had believed that he loved me, but he’d moved on from that, thankfully. I couldn’t be too hard on Christian, though. He’d seen and lost so much. It would take him a long time to get over the way his father had died—drained and changing at the hands of vampires.

Overall, things had gotten much better for everyone, and a good part of that was owed to William. My fiancé had saved Christian’s life, after all. But there was another major factor in Christian’s turnaround: he’d found his own source of happiness via his non-Sentient girlfriend, Nicole Abbot.

In a lot of ways, Nicole complemented our rather high maintenance Combatant. She was quiet most of the time, unassuming, humble. She spent her days teaching children to play the piano, and while she had quite the marvelous way with them, she tended to be far less social otherwise. Christian, however, was outgoing. and much more hot-headed—a lot like me, really. Nicole tempered him. She calmed his nerves. Her reservation was kind of a virtue, in my mind. She didn’t just burst with instinctive emotion, as I tended to do. She seemed to contemplate things all the time, and Sentient or not, she came out with some insightful ideas. I liked her very much and trusted her completely. By now I was hoping she felt the same about me.

I left Abram in the kitchen and went outside, crossing the porch to enter my half of the old Victorian home in Philadelphia that we’d occupied for the last eight months. The owner had split the mansion into, essentially, a duplex, and the most sedate of our group populated one half, while the rest of our people took the other side. This housing setup was pretty unusual, even for us. Sentient groups were used to traveling around all the time, staying in hotels and motels or the homes of patrons and friends until they were needed someplace else. But as far as I could tell—though I’d only been living this life for a few years—Abram’s group had never been divided before. We’d left our sprawling, wide-open Georgian farm house to squash a vampire cell in Pennsylvania, and in the midst of a crisis like that, you take what you can get.

We had passed a cold season in this state and it was early summer now, so every window we could open was cracked to let the breeze circulate. Old houses like these weren’t usually equipped with central air—God help us—so Paul, our second Combatant, had installed ceiling fans and some window units.

“Are you still at it?” I smiled at the blond girl seated in the middle of the living room.

Anna Wright was working out a jigsaw puzzle that took up most of the floor.

“Absolutely,” she said.

I slid around her craft area, nearly pressing against the wall to avoid stepping on any puzzle parts. “Have you eaten anything today?”

Trina, Anna’s girlfriend, shouted from the other room, “I fed her a donut. But she wouldn’t stop for a full meal.”

“Found it! Yay!” Anna snapped a puzzle piece in place.

I laughed. “Anna Wright, you didn’t seriously make Trina feed you the donut.”

“What? I can’t risk taking my eyes off things. If I did, I’d lose my place, and the whole puzzle would be wrecked.” Her British accent made the spiel sound more reasonable than it was.

Trina added from the kitchen, “And the world would come to an end and we’d all have to eat worms!”

“Precisely. See? She understands,” Anna said, her concentration unbroken.

“Glad somebody does,” I mumbled.

Anna had an Emotions endowment. She could be a charismatic handful, well-intentioned or not, and she wasn’t afraid to use said endowment to finagle information or rope you into things you wouldn’t normally agree to. The girl was quite the vixen compared to her more traditional brother. In fact, she made Christian Wright look like a saint.

“Lily? Would you mind lending me your hair tie? My hair’s getting in my eyes,” she asked.

“Oh, for the love of—”

“Don’t argue, Lil,” Trina called. “It’s pointless. You know it as well as me.”

“Right.” I took two handfuls of Anna’s lovely blond locks to arrange into a ponytail.

“You always were my favorite,” she cooed.

“Nice try. And just so we’re clear, I’m not feeding you anything.”

“Not even a cookie?”

I smirked. “Good-bye, Anna.” I left the main living space for the kitchen where Clara Wright—Anna and Christian’s mother—sat clipping coupons with Trina.

“Nice. She’s got you two on domestic detail while she has a recreational marathon?” I observed.

“Yes,” Clara sighed. “She’s a brat, that one. I don’t know how it happened, either. She used to be such a lovely child.”

“Still am! Just smarter!” was Anna’s response.

“This is a private conversation!” Clara spoke loudly.

Trina snorted immediately. “As if such a thing exists in this house.”

“Hrmph,” I agreed. And Trina was just as much of a hassle most the time. She was a Mind Reader, for the love of Pete.

“You know, I’ve always wondered…just who exactly is this Pete guy everybody seems to love so much?” Trina asked, questioning the contents of my head.

“Katrina…” I warned.

“Hey, you thought too strongly!”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the scissors from the counter and started cutting into coupon flyers with abandon. I needed a vacation. “So what’s next on the agenda? Abram ruled out Gettysburg, right?”

“Yes,” Clara said. “For now, anyway. He spoke to one of the groundskeepers there and learned that the historical society probably wants the ghosts to stick around. They’re part of the attraction. Sorry, dear.”

“Well, that’s kind of messed up, don’t you think? All those poor guys stuck wandering around some fields for ages just because it brings in more tourism?”

“I suppose. But do remember that these souls can choose to cross over any time they like. They aren’t trapped. They’re just stubborn.”

“Or confused.”

“Yes. But eventually we’ll all end up in the right place. They’ll be fine. Besides, we’re going to Rhode Island in a few days. That should keep us busy.”

“I guess.”

It was frustrating for me to ignore these spirits, knowing that I could do something to help them. Though, if I was being honest with myself, ignoring them wasn’t exactly easy. Just imagine perusing the dry goods section of your local grocery store and suddenly it becomes the frozen section because the ghost of a butcher who died there fifty years earlier was stalking you and your Lucky Charms. That had become my life—the lot of a Pathcrosser. Plus the Empath endowment, which just cinched it for me. If I wasn’t paging heaven for lost astrals, I was trying not to cry at the drop of a hat from the overwhelming emotions of others.

“How long do you think we’re going to be gone?” I asked.

“I’m not certain. It depends on how complicated things get.”

I’d never been to Rhode Island before, let alone a seaside cottage. This could almost be the vacation I’d been longing for, though something told me I’d jinxed myself just thinking it.

“Done!” The resounding cry of triumph came from the living room. “Done, done, done!” Anna sang, skidding into the kitchen. “You must all come and bear witness to my masterpiece!”

We didn’t dare argue. Instead, we filed into the arching doorway and stared down at Anna’s finished product. “What…what is it?” I asked, cocking my head to study the twisting shapes and colors that refused to meld into any sensible form.

“It’s a Roman orgy!” Anna exclaimed, and Clara gasped, covering her eyes.

“Oh, my…” Trina sputtered, staring more intently at the puzzle. “Nobody can bend like that…you’d have to be, like, triple-jointed.”

“You think?” Anna considered. “We should try it and see.”

“Anna!” Trina muttered, blushing. “Not in front of your mom.”

“Yes, dear. Not in front of your mother,” Clara pleaded.

“Er, sorry, Mum!” Anna offered.

“And not in front of me, either,” I said.

“Oh, Lily, suck it up,” Anna ordered. “You know you’d enjoy a good orgy.”

“Did someone say orgy?” All three of us looked up at the sound of Paul DePrimo’s voice at the front door.

“You would pick up on that,” Anna said.

“No kidding. And whoa.” Paul neared the puzzle and gawked in wonder. “What do we have here? Now I know what you ladies do when the guys are away. This is beautiful. It’s Nirvana.”

Anna scoffed. “As if you’d know what Nirvana even means aside from a band with Kurt Cobain.”

I laughed loudly. Of course Paul would love this. He was our group’s testosterone-pumped-Italian-Stallion, and like most Combatants, Paul was prone to working out, so he was quite muscular and a bit on the aggressive side. Combatants were biologically geared to be so, since it was their job to capture and kill our enemy. And let me tell you, they could use all the muscle they could get, because snapping a neck psychically was no easy task. It required equal parts brawn and mental discipline.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked Paul, but he seemed oblivious to my query, instead studying dedicatedly the intricacies of mass Roman lovemaking. “DePrimo!”

“Wha? Yeah?” he mumbled.

“William, Christian, Nicole, Demetre—where are they?”

“Oh. Coming. Demetre wanted to stop and get some cigars from Holt’s. The old man loves those things.”

“Yes,” Clara agreed, “and the whole of our side of the house smells like cherry-scented tobacco now. I swear, if you lot didn’t stay up till all hours I’d be forced to claim space on your side.”

“Sorry, Mum,” Anna said, frowning. “Though, I think it’s probably best that you don’t sleep here. You know, what with the orgies and all.”

“Yes, well, I’ve had about enough of that,” Clara said. “What do you say to dismantling your…your creation and taking up some nice paint by numbers, instead?”

Paul tore his face from the floor to protest. “No! Let me have one more day with it.”

“Dear Lord.” I shook my head. “Clearly we need to find you a woman or a blow up doll, or something.”

“Nix on the latter. I popped one, once, and it sounded like a generator blew up.”

“I’ve clipped enough coupons for one day.” Clara cringed, clapping her hands over her ears and heading for the door.

“Aw, Clara, don’t leave!” Paul followed after her. “We’ll be good.”

“Goodbye,” she proclaimed. “See you at dinner.”

“And another one bites the dust,” I said.

Trina giggled. “Poor Clara.”

“Yes. We’ve gone a little crazy, having space to ourselves,” Anna admitted.

“Really. You eliminate the senior element and we turn into a bunch of degenerates,” I said.

“No need to be insulting,” Anna said. “Some of us were already degenerates.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“All’s forgiven.”

Admittedly, my cohorts avoided acting their age quite a bit nowadays. We’d been temporarily granted more privacy than was typical for Sentients, so I couldn’t blame them for taking advantage of it. The only exception to the loud behavior was William, who tended to observe it all with bemusement. He was, in reality, old enough to be my father, though the man didn’t look a day over thirty thanks to the years his body had spent as pure vampire. William was beautiful to look at, if you asked me. He was tall and lean, with a pale complexion that held the slightest blue undertone. His eyes were a deep moss green, with black hair in dramatic contrast to his skin.

Now that he had a soul, it appeared William was aging in a human way, but we’d have to wait a bit to determine that fully. No matter what, he was the most handsome man in the world to me and always would be.

Nicole and Christian preceded William into the house, the three of them smelling of tobacco, and Anna didn’t waste a moment showing off the perverted fruits of her labor.

“Bloody hell, Anna…that’s not right,” Christian said, looking sternly away from the puzzle.

“Well, Nicole likes it. Don’t you, Nick?”

Poor Nicole blushed furiously, but smiled anyway. “It’s great. It’s…yeah.”

“We’ve all agreed that the Romans were rockin’ some jelly-limbs, because I don’t know who can move like that,” I said.

William smiled, ever so slightly, and wrapped an arm around my waist, bending in to kiss my cheek. “That would be me,” he whispered.

Chapter Two

I T W AS A BOUT A S P ERFECT as a Thursday afternoon could get as we entered the town of North Kingdom, Rhode Island. The temperatures weren’t slated to rise above eighty degrees today, and the sun was out, showcasing old lobster boats tied up to slippery docks and peeling wooden fences, painted again and again against the wind and salty air. I’d seen pictures of our destination. We were on our way to twelve Sea Grass Road, a private drive that ran along the coast with a rough sand beach right off the side of the street. It looked just like something you’d find in a Better Homes and Gardens or Coastal Living magazines. Charmingly old, relaxed, full of character—I couldn’t wait. But first, we were going to dinner.

“Fresh lobster!” Trina bobbed in place, causing the rickety wooden seat to shift and snap.

“Careful there, missy. You’ll break your chair,” Demetre said.

“How old is this fabulous dump?” she asked, looking around at everything.

“Old. I can smell it.” Demetre had a point. The air was musty, like mildewed walls and wet wood, and there were objects hanging around everywhere—an anchor, rusted completely, a set of buoys caked with green, and a dozen lobster traps filled with plastic crustaceans. A fishing net hung over the bar area, and the entire place was dimly lit.

“Like my headdress?” Anna asked, glancing up to where a stuffed sea bass was mounted low enough on the wall that she could reach up and touch its gills.

“You never looked better,” I said. “And I like this place. It’s got character.”

“Well, I’m just hoping the food doesn’t have as much character, if you catch my drift,” Anna said.

Our waitress was a young girl, probably on summer break from college, with straight blond hair pulled back into a bun. She looked like a lot of sorority types, but I could tell that underneath all that makeup and plastic and pretense she was really quite pretty.

“Your biscuits,” she said, setting a basket of delicious smelling rolls in the center of the table.

“Wow, those smell freakin’ awesome,” Paul commented.

“They do kind of smell good,” William said, chuckling.

I stared at him. “To you?”

“Mhm.”

This took me by surprise since William had no need or desire for food. He survived on the blood Abram acquired from vampires in battle, which was as close to the components of human blood as William felt ethically able to consume. I always felt bad for him, sitting there fiddling with an eternally full glass of water while the rest of us stuffed ourselves silly on tasty food.

Once the meal was over, we took a while to digest and recover while we talked about the cottage on Sea Grass Road. Before we left Pennsylvania, Clara had said the owners were so freaked out they wouldn’t even sleep there anymore.

“I guess they’re a young couple,” Trina started. “They’re staying with family elsewhere and only meeting us at the house to let us in. They won’t even stay through the night.”

“And we don’t know if this is poltergeist or human or dark astral or what?” Demetre asked.

“Nope.”

“Well, we’ve got both Combatants and a Pathcrosser here, so whatever it is, I’m sure we can lick it,” he said.

“Clara thought so.”

“Are you sure you’re up for this, Nicole?” Christian questioned, and his girlfriend gave him a look that forbade him from asking again. You had to admire someone who knew the power of a good death glare. “I guess you are,” he corrected, then brushed her cheek with his hand. Immediately her face flushed and she smiled into her napkin. The gesture left my own heart pounding as I picked up the rush of their emotions. They were completely and desperately in love. I smiled at the familiar feeling, relieved once again that they’d found each other.

After our brainstorming session ended, we split into two parties, hauling our biscuit-filled selves out of the restaurant. We arrived at the cottage with a good two hours of daylight to spare.

“Aw, how cute is this!” I motioned toward the house. It had a four sided, barn house style roof covered in tan shingles, and the outside was pale blue. Everything was trimmed in creamy white, including the large bay window. The front porch was small to match the house itself, but it held four reclining Adirondack chairs that looked absolutely inviting.

William put the car into park and turned off the ignition. “Picturesque.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll just bet,” Demetre added darkly. “Don’t care if it’s a castle or a trailer park, you never can tell what’s what with these places.”

“Truth,” Paul said.

Christian pulled up behind us and we exited our vehicles. This must have served as a cue for the couple in the car across the street because they left it and crossed to greet us immediately.

“Hi! You’re the folks from Philadelphia? I’m Shane Yetson!” said an eager young man in khakis and a dark purple golf shirt. He was well-kept, just like his wife beside him, and neither of them could’ve been a day older than twenty-five.

“I’m Leslie,” his wife said, offering her hand in greeting.

“I’m Demetre, kinda the grandpa of today’s group, and this here’s Paul and Christian, Nicole, Lily and William, Trina and Anna.”

“Oh my God, I’m so happy to meet you guys!” Leslie said with grateful sincerity. “I mean, are you kind of like…what’s that show… TAPS, right? Paranormal investigators?”

“I happen to like paranormal exterminators better,” Paul said, his chest jutting a little.

“Well, at this point, so do we!” said Shane, laughing as he took hold of his hair in a clump and shook his head. “Honestly, guys, we don’t know what to do. We just bought this house six months ago. It was our dream—a cottage on the beach, right?”

“Yeah, more like a nightmare,” Leslie said. “I’m terrified to even look at it now. I’m afraid I’ll see something through the windows again.” She shivered.

“Again?” I asked them.

“Mhm. That’s why I don’t even go in there anymore. Last time we came to pick up some stuff I looked in the bay window and there was…one of them was there.”

“One of them? What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure. God, we don’t know what they are. But I don’t get the feeling they’re friendly—not after some of the things that have happened.”

“Like the hovering?” I asked. Clara had gotten a brief rundown from the Yetsons over the phone, so we knew a few of the major occurrences.

“Yeah, like that. I swear it was choking me in my own bed, holding me down. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t breathe. It was terrifying. And the whispering…God.” Leslie shivered again, and her husband pulled her close against him.

“It’s all right, baby. We won’t go back in there till it’s taken care of,” he assured her.

She nodded, her face sober. “We put a lot of love into that house. Built a bathroom upstairs, sanded and stained every floor board. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears. I don’t want to lose it,” she pleaded. “I hope to God you can help.”

“Oh, I think we can,” Demetre said. Few people would argue with Demetre Phelps. The guy was built as tall and sturdy as a backwoodsman with a beard to match, and his country accent was the icing on the cake. It figured that his wife, Ophelia, was soft spoken, with a short, round stature. This world was full of such counterpoints.

Demetre’s gift was pretty rare. In fact, it was such that we didn’t usually drag him along for simple house visits. He had a Memory endowment, and in minutes he could absorb the contents of an entire map, an entire manual, the ins and outs of mind-blowing passageways and the like. No one ever got lost with Demetre, and if an alternate route was needed, he was your man. Naturally, this came in handy while fighting off vampire hordes in sewers and coal mines and pitch black forests, but we wouldn’t likely be getting lost today. Demetre had simply volunteered to serve as a more mature representative of the group, since outsiders seemed to react better in that case. Plus, it was a good excuse for him to leave the house now that the weather had warmed. Demetre had been a farmer in his earlier years. He got cabin fever easily.

“I hope you don’t mind if we skip the house tour,” Shane apologized. “We’ve had about as much of that place as we can handle right now.”

“Not a problem,” Demetre said.

Shane handed over the keys, explaining that we might want to use the side door for now. It was closer to the stairs so we’d have less of a trudge through the house with our bags. As soon as we opened the door it was evident that this house was horribly off. Something was wrong with the atmosphere. I’d been in plenty of haunted places, both supposedly and actually, and I’d never felt anything like this. The air was weighed down with thick energy, enough to make me lightheaded, and it wafted out of the entrance like a heat wave. I immediately lost my balance, but William gripped me by the arm before I could fall. “Careful, there, sweetheart.”

“This should be a blast,” I said.

“Feels like an influx,” Paul added, touching the outside doorframe.

“Great,” I muttered. “What the hell is that?”

William explained, “It’s a large infestation of entities. And you haven’t experienced one yet, so you should probably steel yourself, considering what you are.”

“Okay,” I said warily.

I noticed that nobody dared enter the house yet, and I certainly wasn’t eager to make the first move.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be staying here,” Christian said to Nicole. “I don’t know how safe this house is for the rest of us, let alone you.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

“Just as long as we’re in the same room, it should be okay, I guess,” he conceded.

Katrina spoke up. “We should probably go in, now.”

Several of us nodded…none of us moved.

“Come on,” Demetre intervened. “Let’s yank this bull by the balls.” He took the first step indoors. The rest of us followed with senses on high alert. Before I’d even reached the stairs, I had to stop where I was and rest a hand on the wall, adjusting to the pressure of the air. The lights were all off, but there was plenty of sunshine and the house appeared bright and open, even if it felt like I was trying to breathe under water.

The steps were right-center, with a cheerful living room to the right and the kitchen area to the left. Everything had been painted in sand and mint tones, relaxing…like a day at a beach, I suppose. But along with the suffocating energy, there was also an odd smell in the air—a hot, sharp smell, like an excess of static, and I doubted the Yetsons used electromagnetic room spray.

The staircase looked very old, and it may have been whitewashed to have a fresher charm, but it still creaked just as wooden steps should, protesting our intrusion loudly.

Upstairs, the setup was simple. A narrow hall ran down the center with rooms on either side, and it ended in a broad-silled window. Running the length of the floor was a cream-colored rug with blue trim that had clearly not seen much wear. Everything in the Yetson’s home seemed clean and fresh and new. So, of course, the place was haunted. It never failed.

There were two bedrooms to the right and another, along with a bathroom, to the left. William moved first and cracked a door open to have a look. Most everyone did the same, pulling open doors to feel out their options, but Paul stood still, observing with a pout.

“What’s the matter? You feeling something?” Demetre questioned, glancing behind him.

“No,” Paul muttered. “It’s just…the injustice of it all. You guys pair off and choose rooms, and I’m stuck with Leo the Logger, here.”

“Listen, Rico Suave,” Demetre started, “show some respect. I’m pleasant company.”

“You snore,” Paul complained.

“How would you know?”

“Ask anyone. It’s like a semi truck is purring.”

Demetre crossed his arms and addressed the group. “Am I that loud?”

“Eh…” Anna wavered. “Well, perhaps…just a bit.”

“Hmph.” He looked at Paul. “Well, then poke me and tell me to roll over, kid. Or you could take the couch.”

“Hey, why should I take the couch?”

“Cuz I’m old and I’ve got a bad back.”

“Boo hoo.”

“And I fart in my sleep.”

“Bed’s yours,” Paul said, trudging downstairs again.

“Nicely played,” William complimented Demetre from a bedroom door.

“Nothing to it.” Demetre winked.

William smiled at me and nudged his head to the side, indicating that I should follow him into the bedroom to the left. I did so, noting that he’d already moved our suitcases onto the bed and also that this room was the master suite, complete with a view of the ocean.

“I didn’t even notice you taking our things inside!” I laughed.

He shrugged, his eyes glinting playfully with a suppressed smile as he closed the bedroom door.

“Quite cunning, Mr. Maddox,” I said. “Claim your territory while the enemy is engaged in a minor skirmish.”

“Well, you know how that old saying goes. The early bird gets the oceanfront bedroom.”

“I don’t believe you’re quoting that accurately.” I smiled.

“Of course I am. Come take a look.”

I was headed for the window when he said, “Wait…” and held out a hand to stop me. Then he gripped the bar of the window latch and turned it upward, opening it enough to let in the smell and sounds of the sea. Oh, it was magnificent. Nothing but sky and water.

Circling around me, William held me from behind and spoke softly. “There, you approve?”

“Yeah. I approve,” I said, my eyes misting. “I wonder a few things about this room, though.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“Well, for one, is it terribly haunted? I don’t prefer the company of strangers when I sleep.”

“Understandable.”

“And for another, I wonder how thick these walls are.”

I felt him chuckling quietly. “Do you? And does this curiosity stem from concern about our safety?”

“Of course not. Merely our dignity.”

His lips brushed my shoulder. “Dignity is for boring people,” he said.

***

Anna, Katrina, and I sat on island stools, devouring a box of Hawaiian pizza. We’d hardly managed to rescue some food from the men, and in an effort to eat without threat of thievery, we sent them to watch TV. I frowned, not only because my mind had been so occupied that I’d burned my tongue something fierce, but also because this house was truly suffocating, especially in certain areas, like the kitchen, for instance.

We’d spent the day feeling around the house, and though it was dark outside at the moment, there was only one place left to snoop around—specifically, the door beside the fridge. It was probably a basement of some sort, and Anna and I had tried to open it earlier, but the knob wouldn’t budge. I’d told her I’d recruit Paul but forgot to mention it, and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t too eager to open the thing. My gut said I wouldn’t like what I found there. Then again, it was my job…Steadying my nerves, I dropped my pizza onto a plate and crossed the kitchen.

“What are you off to?” Anna asked.

“Checking to see what’s behind curtain number three.”

“Mmph,” she said through a bite of pizza. “I thought you—”

“Forgot. Sorry.”

I grabbed the door knob and then pulled my hand away in surprise. This time it was ice cold and covered in frost—a suspect thing in the middle of summer. Daring to touch it again, I turned it firmly, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Uh…can I get a guy in here?” I called out. “I need some muscle!”

I watched as Paul jumped over the couch and rushed from the living room, rubbing his hands together as he neared me. “You need some buff? I got your buff.”

“Thanks, my friend. Can you get this thing to budge? I don’t think it’s locked. Just feels stuck…maybe frozen.”

He reached for the knob and gave it a hard twist and the door whooshed open. Somehow, despite the fact that the kitchen and house lights were all on and should’ve illuminated the stairs at least a bit, we were greeted with an inky black. And the stench of age was so thick I choked on it. I supposed the Yetsons didn’t use their basement for much.

Staring down into the dark, I sensed there was now a crowd behind me doing the same.

“It’s so cold. And quiet,” Katrina remarked. We all strained in silence to hear a sound, but there was nothing. It was like a vacuum.

“Is it just me,” I said, my voice wavering, “or are we being observed?”

“I believe we are,” Christian answered quietly.

Yes. One got the feeling there was definitely something—scratch that—some things waiting wherever the blackened stairs ended. This much was certain—none of us were about to venture down there tonight, and I wasn’t going to explore any more of this house alone if I could help it. We were being watched, but the spirits that claimed this place weren’t giving up their presence easily, even to us. Obviously, there were some dead giveaways (no pun intended) for a Sentient, like the odors and weight of the air, but identifying what sort of astrals were here, let alone how many and where they’d originated, was extremely difficult without interacting.

“All I can say is, I’m glad I’m not sleeping alone,” Katrina said.

“Same here,” Anna agreed. “And I really feel bad for you, Lily. I can’t imagine what sort of trouble you’ll have during the night.”

I shivered. “Thanks for that.”

“Well, better to put it all out there. You’ll probably be visited by something.” She looked at William. “Hope you’re a light sleeper.”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“Hm. Well, scream loudly, then,” she advised me.

“Will do,” I said, snickering at her bluntness. How had this become my life? I’d been working in my grandparents’ corner store, ignorant of the existence of such people as Sentients, and now, here I was, surrounded by the most supernaturally gifted human beings one could ever imagine and they considered me to be one of them. Life sure was full of surprises.

“Let’s close this, huh?” I said. “I’m starting to feel a little sick. I’m going to sit on the porch and take a breather.”

Just exiting the front door was a huge relief. Suddenly surrounded by lighter air, I inhaled with gratification, heading for an Adirondack chair and sitting back. The sky was cloudy, so the moon was only visible as a misshapen blob of light behind dark gray streaks, but the ocean was wide and dark below it, and the sound of the waves was wonderful. I could get through the next few days as long as this chair and view were around to make it all better.

I turned toward the sound of the screen door opening, and Nicole poked her head outside. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I smiled.

“Do you mind company or are you all peopled out?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d mind company at all. This chair has your name on it.” I nodded to my side.

“Thanks.” She let the door close behind her and slipped discreetly into her seat. Then she sighed deeply. “I miss this.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you do. Lucky duck. Must have been nice to live in a beach house.”

“It was. But, there are other things that trump even an ocean view.”

Nodding, I rolled my head to the side to look at her. “Christian is the lucky bastard, Nicole. You’re incredibly good for him.”

She laughed, shaking her head.

Clearly the girl didn’t get the full impact of that idea. She wasn’t a Sentient, and I could tell Nicole struggled to accept her role in our lives, though we considered her a miracle worker and a godsend for Christian. But she rarely spoke of her discomfort. It was only my Empath endowment that had clued me into her feelings from our very first encounter. Nick had been a roller coaster of emotions then, and it’d made us both dizzy. In the beginning, she’d resented me, but that had quickly changed to a feeling of deep inferiority, which had evolved—thank God—into more of a sisterly admiration. Maybe she’d move past that to just plain affection soon.

“You know, it’s funny to me how we never see ourselves the way others see us,” I said.

“I guess you’re right.”

“It’s true,” I said. “But honestly, people think their lives are of little impact, but I believe they all fit together significantly. Abram says that every single person you meet, you were meant to meet, and you put a mark on their lives. Soul mate, sister, cashier, milkman and so on…you help shape their reality into whatever the universe wants it to be. And you seriously cleaned up Christian’s reality.”

She smirked. “Well, he cleaned mine up, too.”

“Yeah, I guess it works both ways. I’m glad he’s good to you—or I’d seriously kick him in the ass. You have no idea.”

“Oh, I know a few things.” She giggled. “I can imagine.”

“Hm. Well, in my defense, any prior instances of ass-kicking were totally necessary.”

“No doubt. I trust your judgment.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, thanks. And I’m so glad you’re here. Not just for Christian’s sake, Nicole. You’re my family, too.”

“I’m…” She paused, then finished. “Ditto.”

I was amused at the complex emotion she exuded in that one final word. If I had to describe it, I’d say it closely resembled, “How the hell did that happen?”

***

“Your hair always smells good,” William said, his face buried against my head. I shifted in bed, reaching across his waist to pull him closer in the dark. He kissed my cheek, then my forehead. “You’re amazing. And brave,” he whispered, lowering his lips to my hair again. “And kind, and I love you, Lily.” His voice was a deep vibration against my ear, giving me goose bumps.

“Hey. You just said I smell good,” I pointed out with admirable composure.

“Mhm.”

“Well, it’s just that this is the second time in the last few days you’ve mentioned something smelling good. You never said that before.”

“Yeah. I know. Maybe it’s a side effect of falling for a devastatingly beautiful Pathcrosser.”

I grinned. “Maybe you should kiss me,” I said, and he obliged.

There’s no sufficient way I could think of to explain what it was like as an Empath to kiss William Maddox. It’s just that he didn’t simply kiss me—I felt him in my mind, under my skin, and I felt him in lots of other ways, too. His kiss was often relentless, and often a slow, deep progression. And then, somehow, he’d always pull back exactly when I thought he’d do the opposite. It was kind of a game he played…and he read me well enough to know that it drove me to distraction.

I bent to bite his lip and suddenly his hands were on my backside, running up and down in such a way that the whole thing was intensifying very quickly and—

“The walls!” I broke away to whisper urgently. “The thin walls, remember?”

“Walls? What walls?” he groaned.

“Tell you what, I’m going to go get some water, and when I come back, maybe we should sleep as chastely as possible.”

“That’s an awful plan. Why the hell would we do that?”

“Because Demetre is sleeping just on the other side of this headboard,” I whispered.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’re shy now?”

“Well? He’s like a grandfather to me.”

Smirking, he said, “I’m probably older than he is, you know.”

Huh. Well. That he was. “So? Does that bother you?”

“No, but I do worry that it bothers you.”

I sighed. “Well, it doesn’t. At all.” I leaned up to kiss him in a way that proved how very, extremely little it bothered me. Then I said, “Now I’m going for that water, thank you.”

The upstairs hallway was dim, but there was at least a corner lamp to illuminate things. We’d turned all the lights off downstairs, though, so it was pitch black there. I’d have to be careful.

Standing at the top of the steps, I gazed down into the shadowy first floor landing, all of a sudden hesitant to descend. I knew it was ill-advised for me to traverse the house alone, but there was a big Combatant sleeping just downstairs, so I figured I’d be okay. Plus, I was a big girl, and a beverage mission would take two minutes, tops, so I shook it off and crept down as quietly as possible.

Ugh. So noisy. The steps were terribly loud, and it seemed that the slower I went, the louder they were, so I took the last few in record time. Paul’s snoring was almost as bad as Demetre’s, but his sleeping presence on the couch in the living room made me feel safer. I purposely avoided glancing into the other rooms and headed straight for the kitchen as confidently as I could, even though I knew…simply knew something was behind me. I could hear it disturbing the air like a constant exhalation.

Slapping the light on in the kitchen, the sensation ceased at once, and I pushed out a breath in relief. Of course, then my eyes fell on the basement door and my heart sped up all over again. That thing just gave me the creeps, plain and simple.

I nabbed my used paper cup from the counter and filled it quickly with water, shutting off the tap in time to hear the television come on. Paul snorted loudly awake, and I turned slowly in the direction of the stairs and looked into the living room. The wide screen TV was rushing with white noise.

I did not have a good track record with TVs or white noise.

Attempting to transform the energy of my fear into anger, I stomped across the adjoining hall to the living room, water in hand, and snatched up the remote control from the entertainment center.

“Go back to sleep, Paul. It’s nothing. There,” I said out loud, turning the set off as boldly as possible. “Now knock it off.”

“Knock what off?” he asked, confused.

“Nothing. Not you. It’s okay. Just go back to sleep.”

“M’kay,” he grunted and dropped his head to the pillow again.

Back toward the kitchen I went to shut off the light but stopped in the doorway when the handle of the basement door moved. I peered at it. Don’t you dare , I thought, but wasn’t at all shocked when the door slipped dramatically open, groaning on its hinges all the way. Again there was blackness, and again, the smell of age, of old musty things, and time. Just breathe, I told myself. You’re a Sentient. Act like one.

Oh, I was a Sentient all right, which was causing half my problems to begin with. But I did as a good Pathcrosser should and walked right toward the basement, shutting the door soundly with little outward evidence of fear. Then I headed for the steps, turning off the light as I left. I even made it upstairs without an event, though I’d sped the whole way and refused to look back. But my luck ran out there. Only a few feet past the landing something very hard and very cold—and unnervingly similar to hands—grabbed hold of my shoulders from behind. I gasped, spilling my water all over the place. I flew around to face the astral at once, but the big chicken was gone.

My distress had woken or otherwise disturbed everyone except for Paul, and they came out of their rooms to see what the deal was.

“Coward,” I called down the steps.

“Uh oh.” Demetre rubbed his eyes, squinting into the darkness. “You havin’ problems there, Lil?”

“Oh, no problem. Just a big stupid astral too scared to stick around for introductions!” I shouted at the steps again.

William snickered, pulling me into a hug. My shaking lessened at once—which was funny, because I hadn’t even noticed I was shaking at all. “Sweetheart, insulting the spirits won’t win them over. Most astrals aren’t as masochistic as I am.”

I gave him a stern look, but he ignored it, holding me close and rubbing my arms.

“So, what happened?” Anna asked. “And what’s spilled all over?”

“Well, I went downstairs to get a drink and then the TV turned on. And so I shut it off, but then the cellar door opened. So I closed it and headed for the hills. Then something grabbed me…and I spilled my water,” I said, my voice fading into a pathetic whine.

“Ah, my poor baby,” William said. “And now your clothes are wet.”

“Yes,” I said, frowning. “And now my clothes are wet.”

“All right, guys, we’ll get this. You can head to sleep,” William told everyone.

“All right. Night, Lil,” Trina said over her shoulder. “Let us know if anything else happens.”

I nodded, bending to grab my now empty water cup.

“We really can’t take you anywhere, can’t we?” William teased, leading us back into the bedroom again.

“It’s not my fault,” I complained, stripping off my wet clothes and tossing the cup on a night stand. “This place is some kind of supernatural Disneyland.”

“Clearly. So we’ll just have to avoid leaving you alone in the dark.” He pulled me into bed. “Nobody is allowed to visit your attractions but me.”

I sighed, snuggling tightly into him. “Remind me to issue you an all-day pass.”

“No need. Four season membership.”

I snorted. “Good night, William.”

He kissed my shoulder. “Night.”

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