Chapter Twenty-Five

Jacob showed up half an hour later. His dark hair was a mess, half cowlicked to the side and full of errant curls. He was clearly un-showered, as if he’d been woken up in the middle of a nap. He’d slipped on a white T-shirt underneath his leather jacket and his worn jeans bore no belt. When Ethan opened the door to let him inside, Jacob grabbed Ethan by his chin.

“Look at me.”

“I am,” Ethan said. “It’s kind of hard not to.”

Jacob examined both his pupils. Jacob’s gaze passed through him to deep inside his psyche. For a moment, Ethan feared one of them had changed into another creature—except there was no face, no distinguishing features. Ethan reached out to touch Jacob’s scar to be sure he was real.

“Okay,” Jacob said with finality. He stepped away from the door. Ethan went to close it and noticed Trina, Aurora’s black cat, in the hallway. She hissed at him again, angry and violent. Other cats mewled from behind the door. A sickening sensation rolled through Ethan again. He wasn’t going to vomit, but he was petrified of the cats because they were petrified of him.

Is he gone? Ethan repeated the scene of himself tossing the hair in the river over and over again. Without the anchor object, Vinny was particles. Dust. He has to be gone.

“Tell me everything,” Jacob said. “What happened back there?”

Ethan couldn’t say anything for some time. The entirety of the experience rushed up against his throat, closing him off like someone going through anaphylaxis. Jacob brought him back to himself with a touch on his chin. And then Ethan noticed the sketchpad in the centre of his kitchen table, surrounded by torn newspapers and empty food cartons.

“Is this him?” Jacob asked, following Ethan’s line of sight. He picked up the sketchpad and flicked through the images. “Did you draw these? Or was it a side effect of possession?”

“Both. But I do know how to draw.”

The story came out in bits and pieces, bundles of smaller narratives built into a larger mosaic. Concentric circles, like those inside the flower the Crown used as a logo, emerged in front of Ethan’s eyes. Vinod’s and his story were the same in parts; the same unhappy families in their own unhappy ways, being defined by their names until they took control. When he was done, or as close to the ending as he could envision, Jacob shook his head.

“I knew this was fucked up. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“I signed off. There was nothing you could do. I said this was my choice and…” Ethan shuddered. Worry clenched at him. “Is Tessa okay with this? That I threw the anchor object away? It doesn’t violate the contract, does it?”

“Well, she’s going to have to be okay with it. You did your job, as far as I’m concerned. Vinod is the one who deceived everyone. He led both of you and the Crown to an empty building—an empty building that their team of researchers should have discovered.” Jacob shook his head, his scar a twisted frown. “The more I think about this the more I realize it’s their fault. I can’t even stand to talk to Tessa right now.”

“But the money,” Ethan said. “It’s been sent? Or it will be?”

“Yeah. I thought you were done so I told Tessa. And she sent it a day ago.”

Ethan breathed a sigh. Once Vinod was gone, he’d instantly worried about the Crown. They seemed like a peaceful organization—but so much about Vinod had seemed benign as well. Ethan had been bracing himself for every last bit of this operation to turn on him, but maybe things were okay. Jacob was right. They should have checked out the address. Ethan was only obligated to take him as far as he could. He’d done that—and beyond. Even if he’d directly violated the contract by throwing out the anchor object, it still wasn’t his fault.

“God, it feels like he lived in me for weeks,” Ethan said. “How long has it been?”

“About three days.” Jacob curled a hand around Ethan’s chin. Ethan couldn’t tell if he was examining him again or holding onto him. Jacob’s next words were softer. “I fucking missed you. I knew something was wrong.”

“So why didn’t you come?”

“I thought you were mad at me. Wanted space or something. I don’t know. Your voice sounded different on the phone, but I thought it was anger. Hormones, trans stuff. Something I shouldn’t be pointing out because I had no right to comment on it since it’s not my experience. But I should have. I’m sorry.”

Ethan moved closer to Jacob, and the two of them took up the same space on the couch. Ethan wanted to be wrapped up inside Jacob, devoured by his skin. Jacob shared the feeling as he scooped him up into his lap. When their mouths met, Jacob shivered. He never shivered when they kissed. Ethan liked it, and leaned into him, and suddenly, he was speaking in Hindi again.

“What?” Jacob pulled away. He held Ethan’s face in his hands, keeping him in place. His brows were fixed with worry. “What did you say, Ethan?”

Ethan opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Only the mewls from the cats across the apartment were present. Dread nailed him to the floor, mute and weak in Jacob’s arms. The Hindi was so familiar and yet so foreign. He shouldn’t know the words, yet there they were.

Which only meant one thing.

“Fuck,” Jacob said. “It’s not done. I knew it couldn’t be done.”

“For someone who knows so much, you sure fuck up a lot,” Ethan said—but it wasn’t his voice. Jacob flinched as if he recognized it, or he was wounded by the meaning. Ethan wanted to argue. He wanted to tell him these harsh words were spoken for all the reasons before—anger, hormones, something else. But it wasn’t. It could only be one other option.

“That’s not you, is it?” Jacob asked.

“I don’t know.”

“This is fucked.”

“I…I don’t sense him. He can’t be here.” Ethan’s chest tightened. He feared blinking in case the blinding golden light from before took him over, punctuated by his third eye hurting.

But when he braved the experience, nothing happened. Vinny wasn’t in control of his body anymore—not exactly. If Vinny was here, it meant he was so invisible even Ethan couldn’t see through him anymore.

“Check the car,” Ethan said. “Did the hair come back?”

They untangled themselves from the couch. Jacob tugged Ethan down the stairs, hands together. When they arrived at the vehicle, the radio was still on a low volume, crackling and hissing sibilant sounds. A window was rolled down. But there was no hair, nothing at all.

“I don’t understand.” Ethan’s body shifted. Not Vinny, not quite. But parts of Vinny remained. Was it a trace, like Tessa had talked about? The stuff that stayed inside him like a bruise? Or was the anchor object still close enough to provoke desire, a desire turned malicious?

“I don’t want this,” Ethan said. “I need him out of me. Can we get an exorcism or something?”

“That’s for demons. He’s not a demon.”

“What about your brother? How did he get out when he was so hostile? Can you call Mary?”

Jacob slammed his fists on the hood of the car. Another vehicle’s alarm went off in the commotion and was then promptly shut off. Jacob assessed the area for privacy, quickly realized there were too many windows facing the lot. He grabbed Ethan’s hands again and directed him inside. The cats screamed and hissed. Ethan wondered if Aurora could hear this—or if this was a reaction that was only inside his mind now. Reality was slippery like a leaky sponge. He didn’t know what sounds were real or echoes from another time, either part of him, or a lingering trace of Vinny’s life and inhabitation. Even the music that Jacob played to cover up the sounds of their panic became foreign, in another language.

They searched the apartment from head to toe, looking for another possible anchor object. All the shirts Ethan had put away while waiting for Jacob to arrive were tossed again. There was nothing.

“He’s here,” Ethan said. “I know he’s here. I can feel him.”

“Can’t you push him out?”

“Doesn’t work like that. I tried. I threw away the hair. And I said that Latin phrase a dozen times by myself. Nothing happened.”

“So what’s he anchoring to? He has to be anchoring to something. Even with strong emotion, hostile ghosts don’t hang around like a shitty roommate. They anchor. They have to anchor. And it has to be something meaningful, something they can grow attached to. Think.”

Ethan worried his pipe—his father’s fucking pipe—had been corrupted. He ran across the room to try to find it and save it—how he wasn’t sure—but he’d toss it in the river before anyone else touched his father’s legacy. Something thick, rooted inside his stomach, pulled him back.

Vinny. Somehow, Vinny’s ghost talons were on his muscles, pulling him back. Ethan gasped. He fell to the floor.

“What’s going on?” Jacob asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m here.” Vinny became a booming entity in Ethan’s mind. “Here with you again. Not gonna get rid of me now. I’m also not going to rot you from the inside out. Not really, anyway.”

“What are you doing?” Ethan groaned. “You need to leave! Go. Now. Go—”

Ethan rolled himself into a ball and tried to chant. Jacob said the Latin words like a back-up chorus. Nothing changed. Not even when he brought out the anointing liquid that they’d used in the past. Each time Ethan felt as if they were getting close, something rocked Vinny deeper into his body. Ethan tried to recall Hindi and Sanskrit and use it against Vinny, but his voice was too strong. Jacob watched in a panic from the corner of the room when he realized nothing he was doing was working. He wanted to reach out and hold Ethan, but Ethan only rolled away.

“I don’t understand,” Ethan moaned. “How are you even here?”

“I’m not on you. I’m on your baby.”

“What?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? Congratulations. You’re going to have a baby. It’s keeping me company. We’re not going anywhere.”