After Moonrise: Possessed / Haunted

“Your mother’s place?”

“Hell, no.” She looked straight at him then. “Anywhere but there.”

He only met her blue-gray eyes for a moment before making his decision. Raef grunted and turned right on Fifteenth, catching the green light and taking a quick left on Columbia, entering the quaint little neighborhood that was hidden between busy Fifteenth Street and kinda dicey Eleventh Street. He drove down a couple side streets, took another left and then pulled into the cobblestone driveway of the 1920s-era brick house he called home.

Raef turned off the car and looked at Lauren, who was gazing at him, an obvious question mark on her flushed face. He blew out a long, frustrated breath, got out of the car and opened her door for her. “It’s my place,” he explained. “I don’t take clients here.”

“Yet here I am,” she said as he closed the car door behind her.

“Yeah, well, that’s just part of a list of don’ts that I’ve broken today.” As they walked together up the curving sidewalk that led to his spacious front porch, he held up his hand and ticked off fingers like an umpire keeping count of strikes. “First, I don’t usually feel as fucking bizarre as I did right before I met you.” He paused when they were standing on the porch and added, “And your dead sister.” Another finger went up. “Then I don’t go to a murder scene—a documented scene of a death—and not pick up death emotions.”

“Death emotions?” she interrupted.

He bit back his annoyance and answered her with a sharp nod and a sharper tone of voice while he dug in his pocket for his house key. “Yeah, death emotions. Bad ones. Like fear and panic and agony and hatred. Being able to Track negative emotions is my Gift.”

“That sucks,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s the way it is—the way it’s been since I was nine.”

“Yeah, don’t take this the wrong way, but a Psy Gift is really pretty weird. I mean, it’s not like anyone can predict it.”

“You’re telling me?” He snorted, and then opened the door for Lauren and motioned for her to go inside, following her closely, still explaining but also watching how her eyes opened in surprise as she took in the sheen of the hardwoods and his antiques that were comfortable as well as expensive and tasteful. “Which leads to don’t number three.” He put up the last finger. “I don’t feel what I felt when your twin manifested—joy.” Raef paused again and shook his head, remembering. “I even felt her laughter. Her laughter.”

Lauren’s brow furrowed. “But you’re a psychic. Feeling emotions is what you guys do.”

“It’s not that simple. No one just gets a blanket ESP stamp, like, Hey, here ya go, buddy, now you’re a psychic so you can read everyone’s minds,” he said sarcastically.

“Look, you don’t have to sound like that. I don’t know about this psychic stuff. No one really does—or at least I don’t think anyone really does.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s not like your people are superopen with how the Gift works.”

“It’s not like your people really give a shit,” he countered.

“Well, I give a shit now!” Lauren shouted, surprising both of them. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Sorry. I’m not usually such a bitch.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m usually such a bastard.”

The air around them shimmered, and then, in the middle of Raef’s living room, Aubrey manifested, saying, “No wonder you don’t bring women home.”

This time her emotions were muted. Her sparkle wasn’t totally gone, but it had definitely dimmed. Still, she smiled at him, and as she did Raef felt a flutter of pleasure wash against his skin as, once again, he picked up her emotions. She’s pleased to see me, Raef realized. That’s what I’m feeling.

“He didn’t say he didn’t bring women home.” Lauren broke into his internal dialogue. She shook her head at her twin, speaking to her in a totally normal, if tired, voice. “He said he didn’t bring clients home. I’ve been telling you for years, if you’re gonna eavesdrop, get it right.”

“Touché,” Aubrey said, grinning at her sister.

Raef frowned at both women. “It’s not just about me not bringing clients here. I also don’t bring work home. Period.”

“You mean this cool old house is a no-ghost zone?” Aubrey said impishly.

Raef didn’t say anything because he was feeling her playful sense of humor, and that feeling had his voice lodged somewhere in his gut.

“I have to sit down,” Lauren said, glancing at him and then the wide leather couch. “Do you mind?”

“Yeah, I mean, no. Hell, I mean, yes, you may sit,” Raef stuttered like an idiot.

Aubrey giggled, obviously getting some of her sparkle back.

“You’re freaking him out,” Lauren said as she sat heavily. “And you’re exhausting me.”

Aubrey’s sparkled dimmed. “Sorry, sis,” she said. She didn’t move to sit beside her sister, whose face was back in her hands, but Raef watched her lift a semitransparent hand toward her, like she wanted to touch her. He felt her sadness then, and realized he hated it and had a ridiculous urge to do something, anything, to erase her sadness and bring back her joy—her joy he could feel.

And that was just fucking not normal.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said gruffly. Both women, alive and dead, turned their pretty faces to him. “I need to know what the hell is going on here.” He pointed at the ghost. “Were you murdered or not?” Raef watched the twins exchange a look.

Lauren spoke first. “Tell him. He’ll see, and it’ll make the explanation easier.”

“It’ll hurt,” Aubrey said.

“I know. Just do it fast and get it over with. I’ll see you again soon,” Lauren said.

Aubrey nodded and then faced him. She met his gaze for a long time—long enough for Raef to be struck by her beauty. Yeah, she looked a whole lot like her twin, that figured. But she was softer, curvier, shorter—and her hair was longer. Just then it was lifting around her in response to a nonexistent wind.

“I know you can help us. I believe in you, Kent.”

He knew she was telling the truth. He could feel her belief. It was warm and strong and very, very disconcerting—which left him utterly unprepared for her next words, and the flood of agony that followed them.

“My body was murdered by a man who has trapped my soul and the souls of a lot of other people. He’s feeding off our pain. His name is—” Aubrey’s words were sliced off as her ghost was ripped in half and Lauren shrieked with her twin in agony—an agony Raef felt all too well, an agony so great that it had his vision narrowing and his heart racing. The torn pieces of Aubrey’s ghost were burned away like morning mist before sunlight and she was gone. Again.

Raef realized he had staggered to the couch and was clutching the back of it to keep himself upright. He raised a shaking hand and wiped sweat from his brow. The sound of a body dropping to the floor had him struggling to refocus in time to see that Lauren had slumped, unconscious, from the couch.

“Shit!” Raef hurried to her, carefully lifting her back on the couch, laying her down and checking for a pulse. “Strong and steady,” he muttered. “Good—good. Hey, come on. Wake up. You’re fine. Everything’s fine,” he said, more for himself than for her.

Lauren’s eyelids fluttered and then opened. He started to breathe a long, relieved sigh, but then he realized how vacant those blue-gray eyes looked. Not only was the light not on, but nofuckingbody was home.

And that scared the shit out of him, so much so that he automatically fell back into what he knew best about dealing with while scared. His voice deepened, hardened, and MSgt Raef barked at her like the Special Forces NCOIC he’d once been. “Lauren! Get your ass back here on the fucking double! You haven’t been given permission to go any damn where!”

Lauren blinked, shook her head as if she’d just come in from the rain, and then her eyes animated and she focused on his face. “Raef.”

Even though the name wasn’t a question, he nodded. “You’re back. Good.”

“Feel bad, though,” she said weakly.

He grunted and nodded. “Bet you do. Your soul’s attached to Aubrey’s, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Always.” The two words were whispers.

“All right. Well, that explains a lot about this cluster fuck.” He stood.

“Are you leaving?”