Chapter Fourteen

 

It turned out Detective Monroe wasn’t at the station. I was informed he’d been called away and had canceled our interview. I was so relieved I wasn’t in trouble, as I walked out of the station I felt like skipping. Then I remembered the bizarre state of my life, and all joy drained away.

I called an Uber to drive me to the library so I could grab my car. I was admittedly nervous as the driver let me out at the library. But everything seemed peaceful, and Sableth or whatever the entity was didn’t make an appearance as I got in my car and drove home.

The things Irene and Julian had told me swirled in my head. It was impossible to believe everything they’d said, and it was impossible not to also consider it. The things I’d seen in just the last two days were difficult to explain away. Unless Julian had somehow set me up? I wasn’t sure how that would be possible, but so much of this scenario was impossible to accept. I’d definitely faced something terrifying in the library, and I’d sensed something evil in my home yesterday. I’d even tried to convince Ian of that, without success.

Julian didn’t seem to understand that I wasn’t denying there was an evil spirit hanging around. There definitely was something wicked hovering. It was the part about me being the only hope to save the world that I couldn’t swallow. There were people destined to be heroes, and then the rest of us. I was firmly in the latter camp.

How was I supposed to accept the idea of a multi-verse that included a far-off place called Virida on faith alone? Julian’s story had lacked details as if he’d come up with it on the spot. But that cabin was another story. All the warding and care that had been taken to make it a safe house hadn’t been rushed. It was those conflicting truths that had me going back and forth between believing Julian and definitely not believing him.

Since I was off the hook for now with Detective Monroe, I texted Claire and arranged to meet her at my house to start the cleanup. I was nervous as I pulled up to my house. I really hoped whatever negative spirit had been hanging around the previous day was gone. I hadn’t found anything useful at the library about being able to partially cleanse a home of spirits. It seemed to be all or nothing, and that wouldn’t work for my type of job. That meant, if the malevolent spirit I’d sensed yesterday was still in my home, I had no idea how to get it to leave.

I parked on the street in front of my house. As I exited my car, I was surprised to see Ian parking behind me. My pulse raced as he got out of his car. I hadn’t expected to see him again, especially after how we’d parted last night. His expression as he approached wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either. He stopped in front of me, and I swallowed nervously.

“Hi,” I said. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Or ever again.

Part of me wanted to blurt out everything I’d gone through from the library to being kidnapped by Julian and Irene. But after how dismissive he’d been last night, I didn’t want his judgment right now. I was shaken and confused enough.

He shrugged. “I wanted to be sure you were okay.”

My stomach warmed and tightened at the obvious concern in his voice. Even after how we’d left things last night, he cared about my safety? That both pleased and confused me. “I’m fine. Just here to clean up the mess from last night.”

“Right.” He studied me, his jaw tense. “Look, I wanted to say I’m sorry I didn’t believe you last night and that I made you feel bad.” He grimaced. “I’m sure it’s no surprise all this psychic stuff isn’t my thing.”

“No, it’s not a surprise,” I murmured. “But I’m not going to apologize that all this psychic stuff is my thing.”

“Nor should you.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. His crisp cologne floated on the breeze, bringing back many good memories of last night. I wanted to touch him but was too shy to do it in case he rejected me. I hated how things had ended between us the night before, but I wasn’t great at apologies. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know how to smooth things over.

He cleared his throat. “Can I help with the clean up?”

Shocked at the offer, I blinked at him. “You want to help?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Why not?” I repeated. Weren’t there so many reasons why not?

He frowned. “Do you not want my help?”

“It’s not that.” I took in his expensive suit and tie. “You’re not really dressed for menial labor.”

He laughed and tugged at his tie, loosening it. “I had a meeting with the hospital chief of staff. I’ll just take off the jacket and tie, and I’ll be good to go.”

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I actually have the rest of the day off.”

“And cleaning up my house is how you want to spend it?” I laughed because I suddenly felt happier. Ian’s energy seemed to be brightening my mood.

“I’m happy to help.”

“I believe you.” Without giving myself time to overthink it, I slipped my arms around him and kissed him. I didn’t care if neighbors or customers coming out of the nail salon saw us kissing. I’d had such a horrible day, and Ian was being so kind and warm, I was drawn to him for comfort.

He was obviously surprised by my actions. His body stiffened, and he took a second to respond, but then he was all in. He put his arms around me too, and the kiss deepened. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and lust curled in my gut. When the kiss ended, he grinned down at me, looking boyish in the afternoon sun.

“I guess you forgive me for being a clod last night?” he asked, smoothing his hands down my arms.

“You weren’t a clod. It was a weird night.” I grimaced. “I was a jerk to you.”

“Nah.”

“Yeah, I was. I said some things I shouldn’t have. If our positions were reversed, I . . . I wouldn’t have just bailed on you. I only said that so you’d go home without being guilty.”

A smile hovered on his full lips. “I’m glad to hear it. It kind of hurt to think you wouldn’t care if I needed help.”

“I’d care,” I said. “You’ve been really good to me. How could I not?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything.

A car horn honked next to us, and I jumped. Glancing over I found Claire grinning at us through her white Toyota’s window. Her blonde hair was cut in a pixie cut, and her dark eyes glittered with curiosity. She rolled the glass down and waved. “BFF reporting for cleanup up duty,” she called out merrily.

“You made it,” I said.

“I sure did.” Her curious gaze flicked to Ian. “Hello, I’m Claire.”

“Ian.” He smiled at her.

“Ooh, you’re the doctor.” She grinned and pulled forward to park against the curb.

My face warmed because her comment made it clear I’d talked about him with her. I guess that wasn’t really a bad thing, but I worried Claire might mention something about my pathetic track record with men. She tended to speak her mind a bit too freely.

Ian and I walked up to the porch and Claire joined us. While Claire and Ian introduced themselves more thoroughly, I concentrated on the building, putting out feelers for any negative energy. Whatever had been around last night seemed to be gone now. I unlocked the front door and we stepped inside.

Claire gasped as she took in the mess. To be honest, it was even worse than I remembered. It appeared that every item I owned was on the floor. Every shelf and table had been cleared, and the ground littered with books, candles, and tarot cards. The kitchen had a lot of broken dishes, and we had to be careful not to slip on the loose beads from the little curtain that had been shredded.

“Do the police know who did it yet?” she asked, surveying the mayhem.

Ian frowned. “I doubt it. Even if they were able to find any prints, it’s probably too soon for results to be back.”

Since I strongly suspected the culprit hadn’t been a human, I didn’t say anything. Claire was open-minded, but I didn’t want to get into a disagreement with Ian again. We’d just patched things up and I wanted to keep it like that for now.

Claire moved to the bedroom. Feathers covered the floor from the slashed comforter and pillows. She shivered and met my gaze. “This feels personal.”

“Yeah, it does,” Ian agreed, frowning.

Once more, I didn’t respond. They were right though. It did seem as if whoever or whatever had thrashed my house had a grudge against me. I shivered as I surveyed the room. The place hadn’t just been rifled through; it had been demolished.

Claire sighed. “Where’s the broom, in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Maybe a shovel would be better?”

Claire laughed. “Okay. I’ll start in here. This room needs some serious help.”

“All the rooms do.” I sighed, moving out into the front area again.

Ian followed me. “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere is fine. I’ll probably start on the kitchen.”

“Then I’ll start cleaning up in here.” Ian smiled encouragingly. “Between the three of us, we should have this done in no time.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.” I bent over and retrieved the green stone my brother had given me from under the couch. I held it in my palm, remembering how the Mossfire Stone had seemed to come alive against my skin. This stone sat still and lifeless, but it meant so much more to me because it was from Nico.

Ian looked over my shoulder. “Pretty.”

I glanced up. “It is, right? My brother gave it to me.”

His eyes warmed with sympathy. “He had good taste in gifts.”

I laughed. “I think this is the only gift he ever gave me.”

“That’s just how younger brothers are. They don’t realize once they’re adults, they’re supposed to start acting like it.” He sighed. “My brother is the same way. He expects gifts, but he’s horrible about giving them.”

I smiled and slipped the stone into my back pocket. “I’d give anything to have Nico back, gifts or no gifts.” The second the words left my mouth, I stiffened. That was an unusually emotional thing for me to say, and I was instantly embarrassed.

But Ian simply smiled and turned away.

Relieved he hadn’t immediately started pumping me for more info, I moved into the kitchen.

Anger built in me as I picked up the shards of broken dishes. I didn’t have expensive things, but the items I’d accumulated over the years had sentimental value. I growled with frustration as I discovered Nico’s favorite cereal bowl shattered. The bottle of whiskey from last night was smashed, and the kitchen smelled of the liquor. Dish after dish had been destroyed, leaving only a few unbroken plates and cups.

The things Julian and Irene had told me earlier today haunted me. I was positive no human had created this mess, but still balked at the idea I was supposed to play the hero in this situation. I knew that Julian believed with all his heart I was The Vessel, but the idea of that left me cold. Scared.

And vaguely disgusted, if was honest.

I didn’t want to be at the center of any battle, spiritual or otherwise. The very idea something as vile as Sableth could have its sights set on destroying me was terrifying. I just wanted to pretend none of this was happening.

There was a knock on the front door, which we’d left open. As I walked into the front room, I found Weston Bartholomew standing on the threshold. Shocked to see my arch nemesis on my doorstep, I scowled. He didn’t seem to notice my displeasure as he stepped inside, taking in the mess.

“Goodness. Looks like a bomb went off in here.” He laughed as he tiptoed over the items strewn on the floor. Weston was the same age as me, but taller and thinner. His face was pale and angular. He wore a long black wool coat, a paisley vest, and leather brown boots that came to his knees. He always dressed like a cross between Paul Revere and a wizard, but that was the thing that least annoyed me about the man.

“What do you want?” I asked, not even feigning politeness.

We’d clashed many times over the years. Weston had a habit of trying to steal my clients. We’d almost come to blows one summer when he’d stood out in front of my shop, handing out flyers for discounts at his place. I wasn’t sure why he did things like that to irk me. He had more business than me already. It was as if he simply enjoyed poking at me.

“No friendly hello?” Weston pouted, tucking a bright red strand of hair behind his ear. “I came by to see if you needed anything. I heard about what happened here last night. People dying in your shop isn’t going to be good for business.”

I frowned as the scent of star anise and nutmeg tobacco filled my nostrils. That’s where I’d smelled that scent before—Weston. He sometimes smoked skinny little hand-rolled cigarettes. Had he been in my house the other day when I was out? Why the hell and how the hell would that have happened?

Claire came out of the bedroom, her face flushed and her hair done up in a messy ponytail. “You can drop the act, Weston. You only came here to gloat over Lorenzo’s misfortune.”

Pressing a hand to his chest dramatically, Weston said, “What? Me gloat? Why, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ian had stopped working and was watching us with curiosity.

I said curtly, “Can you just say why you’re here, so we can get back to work? I don’t have time for you right now, Weston.”

Weston’s eyes flickered. “You don’t have to be rude. I stopped by to see if you needed anything, Lorenzo.”

I somehow stopped myself from blurting out, “Bullshit.” Instead, I gave a tight smile and snapped, “No. I’m fine. You can go.”

“You sure?” Weston pinned his beady black eyes on me. “I was thinking, maybe I could take over your clients while you sort things out?”

“Seriously?” I gave a humorless laugh. Weston had to be the most obtuse person I’d ever met. It was hard not to grab hold of him and shove him forcefully from the shop.

“Of course I’m serious.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You need a hand right now, so I’m here to help.”

“No, thanks,” I said harshly. “I’m not handing my clients over to you, Weston, but nice try.”

“You sure?” He sighed, looking around. “Seems to me the energy in here isn’t good. My shop has such a better vibe. I think your clients would enjoy it.”

“You brazen son of a bi—” Claire began.

“You wouldn’t know good energy if it smacked you in the face, Weston,” I mumbled, crossing my arms. “I’ll be just fine, so don’t worry about me. Run along back to your own shop. I don’t need your vulture-like presence around here.”

“No? well . . .” His eyes scanned the floor almost feverishly. “Perhaps I could help you clean.”

I laughed. “Why?”

“Oh, just because.” He walked around the room, eyes still pinned to the floor. “Was anything taken?”

“Hard to tell,” I said, wondering why he was asking that. Seemed like a bizarre thing to ask.

“We have a lot of work to do, Weston. Maybe you could shove off?” Claire said brightly. “Surely there are people to scam somewhere in town?”

He met her gaze, and his mouth thinned. “Always so protective of your friend, Lorenzo. How sweet.”

Ian had moved to stand behind me. He still hadn’t spoken, but I could feel the heat of his body and was oddly comforted by it.

Weston rubbed his stubbled jaw, meeting my gaze. “Lorenzo, I’ve been thinking . . .”

Claire snorted a laugh.

Ignoring her, he continued. “Wouldn’t it be wiser to combine our talents, instead of competing against each other?”

Shocked at the suggestion, I scowled. “What?”

Shrugging, Weston said, “It makes sense if you think about it.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one thing, I could bankroll a facelift for your shop.” Weston sniffed as he once more glanced around. “Customers these days like a more modern décor. This sort of retro thing went out with the traveling circus. Plus, I could advertise your store. I know you don’t have the budget for that. I heard you had surgery recently. Nothing like hospital bills to put a dent in the old wallet. Especially when you’re already struggling to pay your bills.”

His pitying tone made my face hot. “I’m doing fine. Besides, things will pick up in the summer. They always do.”

Ian didn’t speak up on my behalf, but he squeezed my shoulder in a silent, reassuring gesture that I appreciated.

“I know,” Weston cooed, “But even then, you don’t really make enough to save, do you? Plus, the way things are going for you this winter, will you even make it to the summer?”

I squinted at him. “Since when do you care how hard I have it?”

“I’ve always been rooting for you, Lorenzo. You just don’t like me.” He sighed. “I’m not sure why.”

“You know exactly why,” I said. Did he actually think I was buying his compassionate act? I wasn’t. Not even a little. He was a selfish, greedy person who only cared about his own business. I wasn’t sure why he’d dropped in, but it sure as hell wasn’t out of concern for me.

“Not really.” His boots crunched on broken glass as he moved slowly around the room. “Is it just jealousy?”

“I’m not jealous of you, Weston. I don’t approve of how you do business.”

“You mean successfully?” He smirked.

I shook my head. “Just tell me why you’re really here. We both know it isn’t to help me.”

“How can you say that? Didn’t I just offer to merge with you?”

“We both know your offer makes no sense. Seems to me that you’d prefer I fail and go out of business.”

“Not at all.” He bit his lip as if trying not to smile.

“God, you’re such a jerk, Weston,” Claire hissed.

Weston laughed but didn’t respond to her. He flicked his gaze suddenly to Ian who still stood behind me. Recognition seemed to flutter through his eyes. “Don’t I know you?”

“I don’t think so,” Ian said.

Weston tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “I’m sure I know you.”

I glanced at Ian, but there seemed to be no recognition in his eyes.

Ian said, “I work at the hospital. Perhaps you’ve been a patient of mine.”

“Oh, that could be.” Despite his words, Weston’s tone said he didn’t think that was it.

Claire said, “There’s no way Lorenzo will ever partner with you, Weston. No damn way. He’s a real psychic, and you’re a fake.”

Weston’s eyes glittered maliciously. “Careful, Claire, or I’ll sue you for slander.”

“Pffft.” Claire rolled her eyes.

“Nobody is suing anybody,” I said. “And I’m not interested in your offer.”

Irritation fluttered across Weston’s face. “Don’t be a fool, Lorenzo. I’m offering you a lifeline. Without me, you’ll be out of business in a few months.”

“Maybe so.” I lifted one shoulder. “But I still have no interest in partnering with you.”

Weston huffed. “You’re making a huge mistake.”

“I don’t think I am.”

Claire held up the broom she’d been using in the bedroom. “Run along, Weston, before I sweep you out with the rest of the trash.”

Instead of leaving, Weston moved closer to me, his eyes glittering with malice. “I’m destined for amazing things, Lorenzo. Join me and we can do them together.”

I stepped back because his energy was so intense. “No thanks. My guess is you’re destined for prison.”

He rumbled, “This is the last time I’ll ask nicely.” His facial features seemed to distort and flicker much like a television screen losing the signal. It was only for a split second, and then it was gone.

My heart raced as I tried to process what I’d just seen. Had it been a trick of the light? Uneasiness settled in my gut, and I rasped, “You should go, Weston. I’ll never work with you.”

Weston’s smile was cold and a chill ran through me. “We’ll see about that.”

As our eyes met, a horrible feeling of hopelessness seemed to shudder through me, but then Ian’s hands came down on my shoulders, and his light touch seemed to calm me. Weston flicked his gaze to Ian, and then took a step backward. A silent message seemed to pass between them, and Weston trembled and turned away.

“We can talk about this another time, Lorenzo,” Weston grated as he headed for the doorway. “This conversation isn’t over.”

Bewildered by his persistence, I said, “You’re wrong. I want nothing to do with you.”

“We’ll see.” As he left the house, he glanced back over his shoulder. I stiffened as something ugly slithered through his murky eyes.

A heavy silence fell once he was gone.

“Well, that wasn’t bizarre at all,” Claire muttered finally. “He was even weirder than usual.”

“He’s not usually so intense?” Ian asked, moving away from me.

I let out a shaky breath. “I’ve never seen him like that.”

“No,” Claire agreed. “Me neither.”

I wrinkled my brow. “Why would he want to work with me out of the blue? He’s done his best to drive me out of business in the past.”

“Whatever his reason, you know it isn’t to help you.” Claire shivered. “Oh, he just gives me the creeps.”

Ian looked thoughtful as he moved to the door and watched Weston drive away. I joined him, and he glanced at me. “What could he possibly want from you?”

I frowned. “I have no idea. He seemed almost desperate.”

In truth I had a lot of ideas but none that I wanted to share yet. Between finding out the kid from the nail salon was in cahoots with the dead professor, and the ransacking of my house-slash-shop by an evil entity, I already had a lot to process. Was Weston in on what was happening? It seemed he had to be because why else had he suddenly shown up on my doorstep? Was he on Team Sableth? I couldn’t imagine he was on the side of good. There was nothing inherently good about Weston.

“Perhaps he wants to merge because his business isn’t doing as well as he says?” Ian shrugged. “People tend to exaggerate that stuff.”

“But he does have a lot of customers,” Claire said. “I’ve seen the cars at his place. He advertises constantly, and his location is closer to the pier where the tourists come in.”

“Exactly,” I muttered. “He doesn’t need me, so why was he offering to work with me?”

Ian moved back into the room. “Maybe he really does just think you both could do more if you worked together.”

Claire shook her head. “No. Lorenzo helps people. That isn’t what Weston is interested in. He has no actual psychic powers. He’s a scam artist.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, a very successful one.”

I gave a humorless laugh. “It probably would be in my best interests to work with him. I’d make a lot more money.”

“Don’t you dare even say that,” Claire exclaimed. “If I have to hogtie you to stop you, I will.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Claire.”

She laughed, cheeks pink. “I feel very passionately about this.”

“You don’t say?” I smiled.

Ian nodded. “It’s good that Lorenzo has people to protect him.”

People like Julian and Irene?

They’d called themselves The Guardians but then called me the chosen one and tried to lock me up. And now Weston was acting weird as well. My stomach churned at the memory of Weston’s malicious gaze and the threat in his voice. I felt like the world had gone mad.

Was it possible I was at the center of some psychic battle? The very idea seemed too ridiculous. I couldn’t be the Chosen One, or The Vessel. It was far more believable that I was just a guy who was down on his luck, with a mess of a house to clean. If I didn’t engage in all the turmoil going on around me, hopefully it would just pass me by.