Chapter Thirty

Seth

Seth would have happily stayed in Dante’s arms, watching as cherry blossom petals fluttered around them. But he couldn’t. He had a task to finish and, once he had, he would have an eternity to spend with his lover.

It was strange. It had been a matter of days since he’d died. When he was alive, he would have scoffed at the notion of falling in love so fast. But now he was dead and knew that he could lose himself to darkness and despair in the blink of an eye, time felt too precious to let even one missed opportunity slip through his fingers. What would have been the point in delaying or holding back? Who would he have punished except himself and Dante, who had watched him from afar for ten years and maybe knew him better than he knew himself? Besides, with no physical sensations, except when Dante gave him a solid form, his emotions were heightened. He knew how deeply he felt for Dante and that he was happy he had fallen so hard, so fast.

“We have to go,” he murmured, snuggling harder against Dante.

“A few more minutes.”

“Tempting, but we can’t. We have to go back to New York and meet Cal.”

Seth was nervous as hell about the meeting. What if Cal hadn’t managed to secure approval to put a wiretap on Dante? He wanted to deal with the Doctor within the law, but if that fell through… He wasn’t sure to what lengths he was willing to go. All he knew was that the Doctor needed taking off the streets. For good.

“All right,” Dante said. “But we’d better get dressed first.” He flashed Seth a grin, his indecent stare slowly traveling down Seth’s body before he made any effort to move.

Once they were clothed, they traveled back to New York in the same way they’d reached Japan: via the crossroads. Seth hated that damn place. Every time they flitted through it, he felt a pull toward the white city. He knew it was where he was meant to go—it was his fate—but he clung to Dante’s belief that everyone could choose their own destiny. Because if that wasn’t true, he was fighting for nothing.

It was early morning, and the sky was still grey, though pink streaks sliced across it. They went back to the abandoned apartment block where they’d been meeting Cal and waited, holding onto each other in silence.

It didn’t take long for the undercover cop to show.

“We’re on,” he said. “Tell me when and where to have men set up, and we’ll be waiting. I brought the wire.”

Seth watched as Cal set Dante up with the wire, hiding it beneath his clothes. His thoughts were already racing ahead to what would happen next. They’d start at the hospital and hope the Doctor was there, but then he had to lure the man out. He didn’t understand the implications of the Doctor being a witch, but he doubted it meant anything good. If the Doctor was a witch. And if he wasn’t? Their plan would instantly be in tatters. No. He had to believe the Doctor was. He had been the one in charge. If he was a normal human, why would a magical being work for him? Even if the Doctor could see him, would he care, or would he shrug it off?

There were so many ways their plan could fall apart. And if the plan did disintegrate? Would the anger and frustration of his failure send him spiraling into oblivion? No. He wouldn’t let that happen. Dante wouldn’t let that happen.

Once Cal finished with him, Dante wandered over to Seth and placed his hands on his upper arms, instantly making Seth solid.

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows slightly raised as he rubbed Seth’s arms comfortingly.

“Yeah. Just anxious, I guess.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dante assured him. “Just get the Doctor to the warehouse, I’ll handle the rest.”

“And if I can’t?”

“I believe in you. I know you’ll find a way to make him follow you. And if you can’t, we’ll figure something else out together.” He kissed Seth’s forehead. “I promise.”

Dante’s confidence in him buoyed Seth. He pushed the doubt down. But it wasn’t enough for Dante to believe in him; he had to believe in himself. And he did. For the first time in his life, he felt like he could do anything he put his mind to. His mouth curled into a wry smile as he realized the sad truth: he’d had to die to find his self-belief. And love. He’d found love through his death, as well.

Dante kissed him again, this time on the lips. It was a light, brief touch, but it warmed Seth from within nonetheless.

Dante turned to Cal. “I’ll lead you to where we need to be.”

Cal shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Ghostly intervention aside, we need to make this operation look aboveboard. You should probably call me with the tip-off.”

“Can’t I just tell you where I’ll be meeting the Doctor?” Dante asked, eyebrows pinched. “I’m not sure what difference a phone call makes. You must meet your CIs face to face?”

Cal bobbed his head from side to side. “True, true. Fine. Tell me the location; we’ll be there, ready and waiting.”

“But not visible?” Seth asked.

“Give me some credit, kid. I’m not a useless TV cop. I do know how to run a sting.”

“Sorry.”

Cal laughed and reached out to ruffle Seth’s hair, but his connection to Dante had been broken, so the older man’s hand passed right through him, causing him to shiver.

“Now it’s my turn to apologize. Not sure I’ll ever get used to that.” Cal’s words and tone were jovial, but his eyes held apologetic sadness.

“Me neither,” Seth admitted.

He hoped he wouldn’t have much time to get used to being incorporeal. If things went to plan, he would not only complete his unfinished business, but ascend, too.

“Why Cal, you’re not so gruff after all.” Dante’s eyes sparkled as he ruffled Cal’s hair, in the same manner the cop had just tried to do to Seth.

“Hey!” Cal objected. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m not a kid.”

Dante grinned. “Well, you’re younger than me.” He winked at Seth, who couldn’t help but laugh loudly.

He guessed that was the point and loved Dante for helping him relax and feel less tense, if only for a few moments.

“I don’t look younger than you,” Cal grumbled.

Dante turned to Seth. “Ready?” he asked, his expression sobering a little.

Seth nodded. “Yes. Let’s do this.”

It didn’t take Seth long to reach the Metropolitan Hospital. It was a bustling place, with orderlies, nurses, doctors and families of patients traversing every hall. The Chief Physician’s office seemed like the best place to start. It was only just gone nine, so the chances were that the Doctor would be there, going through paperwork, rather than actively seeing patients. Seth pitied anyone placed under the care of Dr. Charles Cook. But at the same time, he realized the man must have had a brilliant career in order to be made Chief Physician of such a big hospital. Regardless of whether or not he’d killed his predecessor, he must have been a skilled doctor. How could someone capable of saving lives take them away so easily?

As he’d hoped, Seth found the Doctor in his office, barking orders at a flustered-looking secretary. The young man was furiously taking notes on a tablet, his shoulders hunched as the instructions flew at him.

Seth stood directly in front of the Doctor, yet the man showed no signs of having seen him. Panic set in. Either the man was an amazing actor, or he wasn’t a witch at all. Would he need to make his presence felt, like with Nelson? He couldn’t do that. He’d almost lost himself that time, and now, a couple of days further away from his death, he was pretty sure he would spiral out of control far more quickly.

The secretary left after a few frantic minutes.

“What do you want?” the Doctor asked.

It took Seth a moment to realize the question was directed at him, because the Doctor still wasn’t looking at him or acknowledging his presence in any way, save those words. At least, he thought the question was aimed at him.

“I want to talk to you.” He tried to make himself sound strong and impassioned, but the words quivered through the air instead.

The Doctor’s mouth curved into a cold smile. “Why?”

“Not here.”

The Doctor indicated his desk with his hand. “I’m working. You can’t expect me to simply get up and leave because you say so.”

Seth longed to lean forward onto the desk, but knew he’d just make an idiot of himself by passing through it. “Why not? I think you owe me that much at least.”

“Owe you?” The Doctor began to laugh. “I don’t owe you anything. Leave, before I make you.”

Seth felt himself grow cold. “How?”

Finally, the Doctor looked around and fixed his piercing gaze on Seth. Having the Doctor look directly at him made him shiver. He felt like he was pinned to the spot, like he’d be unable to move however hard he tried.

“I think you know how. I’m a witch, whereas you are merely a ghost. I have the power to obliterate your soul. Or maybe I’ll ensure you spiral into madness, doomed to wander the world forever without any sense of purpose.” He pursed his lips. “Yes. That would be a far more fitting fate for an irritating pest.”

Seth narrowed his eyes. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“I know where the photos I took are.”

The Doctor chuckled. “I knew you were lying to me that night. I found the memory card, Seth. It’s been destroyed.”

“Do you really think I didn’t make a copy?”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “I already know you’re a liar, Seth. Why should I believe you?”

Seth forced himself to smile. “You don’t have to believe me. But are you really going to take the chance that I can still expose you, even now I’m dead? I know Nelson destroyed the memory card. I watched him do it. I watched one of the only people I’d ever trusted betray me.” He spat the words out, channeling the anger he still felt toward Nelson into putting on a convincing act.

He wasn’t sure why he was spinning a lie that left Nelson in the clear. Perhaps because the man had a family, and Seth didn’t want to see them get hurt. Or maybe it was because, despite what Nelson had done, he understood that fear often overruled common sense. Hadn’t it been fear that had driven him into hiding ten years earlier, taking the memory card with him instead of turning it over to the cops?

“But it doesn’t matter,” he went on. “Because I had another copy of the photos and that angel you tried so hard to keep away from me the night you killed me is going to hand them over to the cops if you don’t come with me now.”

The Doctor folded his arms and simply stared at him. Seth wasn’t sure what was going through the man’s head. No doubt he was trying to gauge if Seth was lying to him or not. So Seth did the only thing he could; he stared back as coolly as possible.

“Fine,” the Doctor snapped, after several moments had passed. “Where do you want to talk?”

“Where you murdered me,” Seth said. “Where else?”

The Doctor clenched his teeth, making his cheek muscles twitch. He inhaled a slow breath and then exhaled it through his nose, creating a light whistling sound. “If this is a trap, I will destroy you.”

“You can try,” Seth hissed, moving closer, even though it meant gliding through the desk and hovering within it. His soul felt like it was turning to ice, but he held still, glaring right into the man’s eyes. “It probably is a trap. But if you don’t come with me, everyone will know what you did ten years ago. And then they’ll start looking into every aspect of your life.” He cocked his head to the side. “I wonder what the mob would do to you if they realized you’d been exposed. I’m sure you know lots of things that they wouldn’t want to get out.”

It was with those words that Seth realized his and Dante’s plan could very well end up being a death sentence for the Doctor. While New York didn’t hand out the death penalty, not all of the Doctor’s crimes had been committed in that state. Besides, the mob—or coven of witches, if that’s what they were—operated outside of the law and if they wanted the man dead, they would get to him no matter how securely he was incarcerated. Not that Seth could convince himself to feel a shred of guilt. The Doctor needed to be stopped. He deserved to be thrown in jail for the rest of his life. What happened to him after that was neither Seth’s fault, nor his concern.

“If you do come with me, my guardian will tell you where you can find the copy of the photos. After we’ve talked.”

The Doctor stood, his body tense. “I’ll meet you there.” He jabbed his finger through Seth. “I will make you pay for this.” Then he grabbed his coat and stalked out of the office.

Seth crumpled from the pain that tore through him at the Doctor’s touch. It was nothing like passing through normal people. For a second, it had almost been like he was flesh and blood again and the Doctor had driven an ice pick through his heart. He shuddered, realizing that, if a simple touch from a witch resulted in so much pain, the Doctor hadn’t been bluffing about being able to destroy him. Which meant he couldn’t afford to let the Doctor touch him again.

He straightened, knowing he couldn’t be weak, not now. He had to get to the warehouse. He had to get to Dante.