Chapter One
“OKAY, Mrs. Michaels. I have two pounds of tomatoes, a bunch of spinach, and some okra. You want anything else?” The heat was hanging on today, the sun beating down on the makeshift building that was the official King and Franks Farm Stand, named after his mom and dad’s families.
“No, Blaine, honey. That’s it. How’s your mom?”
“Good. Good. The chemo is done, and she’s recovering. She’s a stud.” And Dad was Dad—working his ass off on the organic farm that kept them in quarters. One day Blaine would go back to college, get a job that helped out, but for now they needed him here, working the stand, hawking veggies.
It was a good life, really. He hated being cooped up, hated being trapped under fluorescent lights, and the idea of a cubicle made him gag.
And this way he got to work with the Supers on the side. Well, at night really, as that’s when they tended to do their thing. They hadn’t had a gig in a few weeks, but then they hadn’t had anyone doing tech work since Jill left. She’d moved from Port Hope to BC with her girlfriend.
Jason had found someone new, though, had promised to bring him by today to meet Blaine.
His folks teased him about being a spirit chaser, but they indulged him. Hell, he was a grown-up; they didn’t have the right to tell him no, but still….
The guys were important to him. They believed him—mostly.
He hoped the new guy wasn’t too much of a skeptic. It was hard to find tech guys who believed that ghosts might be real. They’d discovered when they’d first banded together that most tech guys were there to prove that ghosts didn’t exist.
The huge van pulled up, Supernatural Explorers written on the side of it. The thing fit all their equipment, six people—though there were usually just four—and in a pinch a couple of them could sleep in there too.
Jason, who ran the group and got them gigs and stuff; Darnell, their cameraman; and Will, their, well, roadie for want of a better word, all spilled out, with another guy in tow. He had to be the new guy, and he was handsome. He didn’t look much like a scientist. More like a football player. Tall, broad-chested, with dark curls that spilled around his face in an unruly manner, the guy was quite handsome.
Blaine knew what he looked like—a dishwater-blond hippie with dirt under his fingernails and torn-up clothes. He was a child of the earth, after all.
Jason was skinny as a rail, had an acne-ridden face, and wore glasses. Darnell was a stud, milk-chocolate skin accompanied by the most amazing dreads, while Will looked like a biker and had the muscles to move any equipment they brought with them. They were a scruffy crew who didn’t quite look like they belonged together, but they were ghost hunters—they weren’t exactly hired for their matching attire, and not a one of them was interested in wearing a uniform.
Jason gave Blaine a wide grin and waved at the new guy. “This is Flynn Huntington, potential com tech. Flynn, this is Blaine, the guy who has the final say on whether or not you’ve got the job.”
Flynn held out his hand and gave him a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you. So you’re the leader of this motley crew?”
“Me?” He’d never led the guys anywhere but into trouble. “I’m not the leader. I’m just the flashlight guy.”
Blaine was the one who tended to see something if there was something to see. He heard them—the ghosts—talking to him, but it wasn’t clear. It was like a constant, crazy murmuring.
“Like I said, he who leads.” Flynn winked, and when he reached out and shook Blaine’s hand, a flash of something sparked between them. Flynn must have felt it too. His eyes widened, his mouth opening on a soft gasp.
A rush of heat and pleasure and a jolt of something dangerous, and this had never happened to Blaine, ever, so it couldn’t be real. Had to be the heat.
It wasn’t until Flynn dropped his hand that Blaine realized he’d still been holding it. Flynn’s smile seemed warmer this time.
“We all grilled him and gave him the okay, but now it’s your turn,” Jason informed him, looking around. “I’ll man the stand if you want to take him to the side or something. I don’t mean to press you, but we’ve got a gig this weekend.”
“Just watch the cash, okay?”
Jason gave him a hurt look. “Dude, how many summers did I work here?”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” This was the first summer, though, where it felt a little like life and death. They needed every penny they could scrape together to pay the fucking hospital bills.
Flynn followed Blaine to a quiet corner, and Blaine was overly conscious that as tall as he was, Flynn was taller. Seriously, he hadn’t known they built scientists in extrastudly.
“So, why us? Why this? Tell me everything.” He grabbed a plum from a basket and tossed it over.
Flynn grabbed it easily and rubbed it against his shirt. “Thanks.” He took a bite, the juice running down from one corner of his mouth.
Blaine was struck with the urge to lick it away. He forced himself to look into Flynn’s eyes instead.
“I want to prove that ghosts exist, and you guys had an opening in my area of expertise just as I graduated. Kind of seems like fate.”
“What’s your area?” Blaine liked Flynn’s attitude already, though. He wasn’t going into it predisposed to disbelief. He wanted to prove ghosts existed, like Blaine.
“Electromagnetism, biology, and computers. I’ve written a few programs to crunch the data for temperature changes, etc. And they can totally be tweaked as needed. Plus… well, I guess you guys are the ones for whom this is a pro not a con, but I’ve experienced ghosts before.”
“Yeah? When?” That wasn’t particularly unique. Ghosts were everywhere, and people also got spooked by things that weren’t ghosts all the time.
“Most of my life, actually.” Flynn held his gaze for a long moment, and Blaine felt like the guy was testing him. He must have passed because Flynn continued. “My parents died when I was five. Car accident. Every now and then, when I really need her, my mother comes to me.”
“I’m sorry, man. Honestly.” Blaine knew the fear of losing his folks. He lived in terror of losing his mom, especially now.
Flynn shook his head. “It was a long time ago, and like I said, I still have my mother when I really need her.” This time his grin was self-deprecating. “Of course I learned early not to tell people about it. I’ve experienced other phenomena too, that I know were from beyond, so I want to prove it.”
Prove I’m not crazy.
Though unsaid, Blaine was pretty sure he could hear that in Flynn’s thoughts.
“I get that. I don’t need proof. I know like I know chairs exist, but I’m the guy in the group the spirits seem to flock to.”
“That’s got to be scary sometimes. I mean when it’s a place where people were murdered. Or a prison or something.”
“Sometimes. Lots of times. Mostly it turns out to be nothing—creaking buildings or animals—but sometimes….” At least Blaine thought so. He was pretty sure.
“Yeah, I imagine there’s a lot of dead ends.” Flynn stopped for a moment. Then he laughed, the deep sound finding a place to settle in Blaine’s belly. “Pun not intended, but damn, it should have been.”
Blaine began to laugh along, and suddenly Darnell appeared. “So, he’s in, huh? Cool.”
“That quick?” Flynn asked.
Darnell nodded, his dreads flopping enthusiastically. “Dude, you made him laugh out loud. That’s a thing.”
“I didn’t even do it on purpose!” Flynn looked pleased, dark eyes lit up and twinkling.
“We’ll give it a try. I think we’ll manage,” Blaine said. And if they didn’t, who cared?
“That’s great!” Flynn grabbed Blaine’s hand and shook it, and again there was a jolt, a sharing almost of… spirit?
Lord, he was getting crazier as the day went on.
Flynn finished the plum as Darnell called the others over. They all shook hands, and nobody else seemed to feel anything special when they touched Flynn.
Huh. Well, maybe Blaine was imagining things. It happened. A guy could start reading into everything.
“We should go out to celebrate,” Darnell suggested. “Have supper, a couple of beers, and get to know each other before we go to work this weekend.”
“Sure. I’m free,” Flynn noted.
“I am too, unless something comes up with Mom,” Blaine agreed.
“Your mom?” Flynn asked.
“She’s battling breast cancer.”
Flynn winced. “I’m sorry, man. That sucks.” Flynn slid his hand over Blaine’s, squeezed.
“Thank you. She’s going to make it. I have faith.” And Dad needed her.
“That’s half the battle, isn’t it?” Flynn gave him a sympathetic smile.
“You ready to go now, or do we need to meet you at Bennie’s?” Darnell asked him.
“I have to close out, go home and change, shower. All that shit.”
“So we’ll meet you there. Promise I won’t let Jase and Will get too shit-faced before you show up.” Darnell winked and popped Flynn in the arm. “Let’s go, man. First drink is on the newbie.”
Flynn chuckled. “How come I feel like I’m being shaken down?”
“If they offer to buy you a cement mixer, say no!” Blaine called.
Flynn frowned, and the last thing Blaine heard was Flynn asking, “What’s a cement mixer?” followed by Darnell’s cackling laugh.
Oh man. He was going to have to hurry, or they were going to eat Mr. Flynn Huntington alive. He started closing out, trying not to get distracted by the memory of Flynn’s dancing eyes.