My chest sinks, feeling hollow, carved out. I pinch my eyes shut and the tears start spilling over my eyes. I can’t help it. There’s just been too much going on, too many changes, I’m so scared, and yet I’m so fucking grateful that I have this man by my side.
“Shhh,” he says to me, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. You know you’re stuck with me. For better or for worse.”
“Til death do us part,” I manage to say, shaking.
“No, baby, that vow never applied to us,” he says softly. “We know better than that.”
He brushes his lips against mine, tasting my tears, then adjusts himself, turning me over so that my back is against him. His arms wrap around me, so hard and strong, and despite my fear, I’ve never felt safer.
“Get some sleep,” he whispers to me, pressing his lips against the back of my head. “I’ll be right here.”
“Once again,” Dex says as he puts the Highlander into park and fixes his eyes on me. They glow orange from the reflected streetlight. “Are you sure you’re up for this? Because we can always call it quits and turn back now. Go home and forget about it.”
I stare out the rain-splattered window at the house. It’s only six, but it’s been dark for hours, and everything feels darker still, parked in front of this place.
After what happened to me the last time I was here, plus my sighting of the dead lady and her unseen monster at the restaurant, followed by my nightmare of Dex dying, you’d think I would have called the whole thing off. That’s what any sane person would do. Tell Dex that I don’t want to go through with it, that things are dicey enough as it is, that Mr. Cox can keep his money.
But apparently I’m not sane in the slightest.
Because when morning came and Dex told me he was having second thoughts about tonight, and about going back into this world in general, my first instinct was to get defensive. That I needed to, wanted to do this. I know, it surprised me too. I’m starting to think that even through the fear, some part of me feels strangely at home.
Either that or I’m being compelled by this fucking house, which isn’t much of a stretch either. Guess we’ll find out.
I give Dex a quick smile. “I’m fine. I promise. A little scared, but that’s normal.”
“It’s more than normal,” he says, reaching across and holding my hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it, his touch calming. “And the moment you feel it’s too much, then we stop. Okay?”
I nod, grateful for the easy out, if needed. “How about you? Are you scared?”
He leans over me to peer up at the house, eyes searching through the blurry glass. “Not yet,” he says after a moment. “Come on. I think I see Edgar Allan Fuck over there.”
I open the door and get out of the car, grabbing my crossbody purse and putting it on, twisting it forward. I have no idea what to expect, but Dex and I started cramming things in there that we might possibly need before we left. Flashlights, headlamps, extra batteries, a wireless mic, a spare, old iPhone (we’ve learned our lesson many times before), EMF meter, and an EVP recorder. To be honest, I was surprised when he pulled the recorder out of a storage box. I never expected to see the thing again, and yet the moment he handed it to me, it felt like I’d only used it just the other day.
Dex joins me by my side, locking the car with a loud beep that makes me jump (I’m on edge already), a camera bag slung over his shoulder.
Atlas Poe is standing at the base of the stairs, staring at us. I can’t really make out his features in the dark, but it’s enough to creep me out.
Dex takes my hand for a moment, giving it an encouraging squeeze, before pulling his newsboy cap down on his brow and walking toward Atlas.
I follow, my Chucks slapping against the rain on the pavement as I hurry along.
“You’re filming this?” Atlas asks as we approach. He’s not even under the shelter of the porch, just standing out in the rain and getting wet.
“Is that a problem?” Dex asks, placing a protective hand on the camera bag.
“Not at all,” he says. “Provided you’ll let me review what you’ve shot first.”
Dex stiffens, looks over his shoulder at me, brows raised. I know he’s not happy with that, but he also didn’t run this by Atlas either. He’s definitely one of those “better to ask for forgiveness than seek permission” kind of people.
I shrug. “Can we finish talking out of the rain?” I move past them and up the steps to the porch. My eyes focus on the door handle for a moment and I feel that strong, strange pull again. I have to force myself to look away, to put my back to the house while Dex and Atlas continue their dick-measuring contest or whatever the hell they’re doing staring each other down.
Finally, Dex finishes his glaring and walks up the stairs, stopping by my side.
“So, let me guess, you want to give us another tour?” he asks mildly.
Atlas remains where he is. “No. Just came here to unlock the door for you.”
I exchange a wary glance with Dex before looking back to him. “So that’s it? What about the messages?”
“I told you last time, there are no messages.”
“But your father said…”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. I feel a strange sense of relief at seeing Atlas bothered. “As I said last time,” he repeats, voice tired, “he doesn’t know what to believe.”
“So why the money?” Dex asks.
“Love?” he suggests, glancing at us warily. “He’s got a lot of money, always has. Always paid his way through this and that. He loved my mother to the point of…obsession. It makes sense he would feel this way after her death. He wants you to communicate with her. About anything. He lacks clarity right now. Hence why I’m here.”
He’s not the only one in that family who lacks clarity, I think.
“But you said it yourself last time, that you want us to give her a push through the Veil,” I tell him.
“Well, that was on Samhain, wasn’t it?” Atlas says. “You dicked around and didn’t even get the chance. So you lost the chance.”
“Dicked around?” Dex repeats, his tone like flint. “You were with us the whole time. If anyone dicked around it was you. And it wasn’t our chance, it was yours.”
“Guys,” I say quickly before this turns into an argument, even though Dex is totally right. “Can we stay on track? Okay, Atlas, you’re saying now that reaching your mother through the Veil can’t happen because we lost our chance two weeks ago?”
“It’s easier on Samhain.” He shrugs and looks off toward the street. “Maybe on the next full moon. But just because you can’t reach her, doesn’t mean you can’t talk to her.”
“This is really fucking confusing,” I tell him, rubbing my palm on my forehead. “So we can talk to her?”
He gives me a quick smile. “Yes. That’s why you’re here. Go inside and talk to her. But as for bringing her out of the Veil, I guess that will have to wait for another time.”
“Let’s back the fuck up here,” Dex says, crossing his arms, his legs in a wide stance. “Your father is paying us to communicate with your mother, about something, the weather, sports, I don’t know, he doesn’t seem too picky from how it sounds. You, however, her son, want us here to bring your mother…back from the dead?”