Rage and Ruin

I nodded as unease unfolded in the pit of my stomach, spreading like a poisonous weed. The Harbinger wasn’t just clever. I had a sinking suspicion that, even though we had no idea who or what it was, it knew exactly who and what Zayne and I were.

* * *

My entire body jerked upright as I gulped in air, blood pounding so fast, I could hear the rushing in my ears as disorientation swept through me. It took me a moment to realize I’d fallen asleep after showering.

Dammit, I hadn’t meant to pass out. I wanted to be up when Zayne returned. I had no idea how long I’d been asleep or if Zayne—

“Trinity!” Peanut’s ghostly face was suddenly mere inches from mine, illuminated by the glow of the bedside lamp I’d left on.

“Jesus,” I sputtered, pressing my hand against my chest. “Why would you do that?”

“Trin—”

“Sometimes I think you’re trying to give me a heart attack.” I twisted away from Peanut, irritation buzzing through my veins like a nest of hornets as my eyes adjusted. I realized that the bedroom door I’d left open so that I could hear Zayne return was closed, meaning Zayne most likely had returned and closed it, because I seriously doubted Peanut would’ve done that. “Peanut, I’m being serious. The next time you do this—”

“Listen to me, Trin, there’s—”

“—I’m going to exorcise your ass right into the afterlife,” I snapped. “It’s not okay, Peanut. Not at all.”

“I wasn’t watching you sleep or trying to scare you!” Peanut flickered.

“Whatever,” I muttered and reached for my phone to check the time.

“Listen to me!” Peanut shouted so loudly that if he could be heard by other people, he would’ve woken up half the apartment building.

I’d never heard him yell before. Ever. I focused on him, really looked at him, and for a ghost, he looked freaked-out. “What?”

Peanut drifted back a foot. “There’s something here—something in the apartment.”

12

I shot off the bed like a rocket was attached to my butt. “What?”

Peanut nodded. “There’s something here.”

“You need to give me more detail.” I snatched up a dagger from the nightstand. “Stat.”

“I saw it in the other room, near the kitchen island,” he said. “It doesn’t belong here.”

Oh my God, Zayne was out there.

What if the Harbinger had followed us? It was possible, especially if it had known we’d been in the Eastern Market. We hadn’t sensed it, so it could be here undetected. Racing forward, I threw open the door and stepped into the common room, which was lit by the moonlight and the soft glow of the under-cabinet kitchen lighting. My gaze darted over the kitchen island to the couch—Wait. Something was behind the island. It was blocking out a section of the light.

I took a step forward, my hand gripping the dagger as I squinted. The shape was that of a...person, but it wasn’t solid. Every other second, I saw the lights from the cabinet blinking through, as if the shape was flickering...

“You see him?” Peanut questioned from behind me. “He’s not supposed to be here.”

I saw him.

Slowly, I lowered my dagger.

“He was looking around and stuff, checking out Zayne,” Peanut continued, staying behind me as if I was his personal shield. I inched toward the couch. “I asked him what he was doing, but he wouldn’t answer. He ignored me like he can’t see me, but that’s totes not the case.”

I spared a glance down when I reached the couch, and relief punched me center in the chest. Zayne was there, asleep. One arm was thrust behind his head, the other resting across his stomach. His face was turned toward me, and a sliver of moonlight kissed his cheek.

I jerked my gaze back to the kitchen, blood pressure settling. Zayne was okay, but the shadowy shape was still in the kitchen, and it wasn’t the Harbinger or a demon that had somehow gotten through my internal radar system.

It was a ghost...or a spirit.

Which would’ve been good for Peanut to have mentioned when he’d woken me up, instead of giving me a minor heart attack.

Ghosts and spirits, for the most part, were benevolent, even the ones who could interact with their surroundings, like Peanut. There were a few who became stuck and unwilling to acknowledge that they were dead, and their anger festered, rotting their souls. They became wraiths. You had to watch out for them, as they could be dangerous and violent.

I guessed this ghost had seen me somewhere and followed me here. Wouldn’t be the first time a ghost had sensed me and then found me later.

“Make it leave,” whispered Peanut.

I shot him a look and then refocused on the unexpected visitor. I might be here to find the Harbinger, but helping ghosts and spirits was important to me. For many of them, I was their only chance to impart a message or to get aid in crossing over.

Out of everything I was capable of, helping the deceased move on or communicating a spirit’s message was the most amazing gift I had in my arsenal. At least, I thought so.

As I neared the island, the shape changed without warning. Clothing appeared. A black-and-white flannel shirt thrown over a T-shirt with words on it was suddenly filled out by a chest and arms. Features formed. A roundish, almost boyish face. Messy brown hair that looked slept on. Glasses perched on a straight nose. He was around my age, give or take a year or two.

And he was a spirit.

I knew this immediately, because his skin carried an ethereal glow that told me he’d seen the light and gone into it. But I’d never seen a spirit do what he had just done—change from a black, shadowy form into a full-bodied apparition.

“I don’t like him,” Peanut whispered. “I don’t want him here.”

The spirit focused on Peanut. “You’re not very friendly for a ghost.”

Peanut gasped. “I am not Casper, you insolent fool.”

“Funny you mention Casper,” the spirit replied, head tilted. “Did you know that when Casper was first created, he was a ghost of a little boy who died, but then the creators worried that a dead child was too dark, so they changed him to where he was always a ghost and gave him ghost parents, because in their minds, ghosts having ghost babies was less hard to explain?”

I blinked.

“What?” Peanut vocalized my confusion.

“Exactly.” The spirit nodded. “I mean, if you ask me, the idea that ghosts are born and capable of procreating is way more disturbing, but what do I know?”

Okay.

I had no idea what time it was, but I could safely say that it was way too late or too early for this nonsense. Holding up my hand, I waved the dagger. “Hi. How can I help you?”

The spirit’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “You can see me?”

“Dumb question,” Peanut muttered. “Because duh.”

If I could smack Peanut, I would have. “Uh. Yeah. I can see and hear you. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Holy crap,” the spirit whispered, and then flickered out.

My brows lifted as I lowered my dagger. The spirit didn’t blink back into existence.

Peanut drifted over to where the spirit had been standing. Hovering a few feet off the ground, he stared down. “He’s not hiding back here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

“Trin?” Zayne’s sleep-rough voice called out, and I spun around. He was sitting up and peering over the back of the couch. “Is everything okay?”

Two choices presented to me. Tell Zayne there’d been a spirit in his apartment, but not be able to tell him who the spirit was or why he’d been here. Or tell him nothing at all, because already having one ghost hanging out at his place was one dead person too many.

“I was waiting up for you, but I must’ve fallen asleep,” I blurted out, my mouth making up my mind for me as I deftly hid the dagger behind my thigh. “I came out to see if you were awake, and when I saw you weren’t, I got something to drink.”

“Liar,” Peanut retorted. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I added, stepping sideways.

“It’s okay.” He dragged a hand through his hair. The moment he lowered his arm, those thick strands fell back into place. “You get something to drink?”

“Uh-huh.” I also nodded, and when Peanut didn’t comment, I glanced behind me to see that he was gone.

“You were waiting up for me?” he asked, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Yeah. I wanted to see how you were doing.” I stepped closer, keeping my hands behind my back. “If you were okay.”

“Always.”

“Always?” I repeated. “Dez told me that Greene was with the clan for several years. You knew him, and he’s...”

“He’s dead.” He pushed the hair back from his face again. “There’s nothing more to say.”

“There’s a lot more to say.” I felt a tinge of grief through the bond. “You knew—”

“There’s really not, Trin.” He swiped a hand down his face. “It is what it is.”

He wasn’t being dismissive or heartless. He was avoiding the loss and the pain that followed. I could understand that. “I’m sorry, Zayne. I really am.” I swallowed the knot in my throat. “I wish I could do something.”

I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I thought I saw a brief smile. “You going back to bed?”

“I guess so.”

“Really? You sound wide-awake,” he said, and boy, wasn’t that the truth. “Are you really going back to sleep, or will you lie there, staring at the ceiling?”

“Are you psychic?” I joked. Kind of.

Zayne chuckled as he turned back around. “I’m awake now. We could keep each other company. You know? Until one or both of us passes back out.”     PrevNextTip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.

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