Rage and Ruin

“Can you do that?”

“Sadly no.” He sighed forlornly. “I haven’t figured out how to become a poltergeist and move stuff.”

Not many spirits or ghosts could interact with their surroundings, but I kept that to myself as I breathed through the obnoxiously horrid pain of a stubbed toe. “I think I just killed my foot.”

Sam drifted closer to me, trying to avoid going through an older lady in a trench coat. “You know why stubbed toes are so painful? It’s because they have a whole bundle of nerve endings that provide sensory feedback to your central nervous system. So, when you stub your toe, that pain gets sent to the brain quicker. Plus, there’s little tissue there to cushion the blow.”

“I cannot believe you know that.”

“Like I said, I know a lot of stuff. Not sure how useful that is now,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Being dead and all.”

“I have a piece of random knowledge for you.”

“Hit me up.”

A grin tugged at my lips. “I don’t think poltergeists are actually ghosts or spirits. There’s some evidence pointing to poltergeist activity being a buildup of energy from a live person.”

“Really?”

I nodded. “They’re manipulating things around them without knowing. It’s usually someone going through something pretty intense.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that.” Sam was quiet for a moment. “I actually did go to the light first, but I got...trapped and went someplace else.”

“Someplace else?”

Sam didn’t answer.

I looked at him and unease blossomed. “Hold on a second.”

He frowned. “What?”

I stopped alongside a pub, keeping my back close to the brick wall.

Sam stopped, too, his expression marked with confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Look, I want to make sure that whatever message you want to give this girl isn’t something mean or creepy. If you want to mess with her, I’m not doing this.”

“Why would you think—” His eyes widened as a man jogging cut right through him. He faded out like wisps of smoke before coming back together. “Let me try that again. Why would you think I’d seek someone out to say something horrible?”

“Because people are assholes, and some of them even more so when they’re dead,” I told him. “Some ghosts, even spirits, are just bored and like to scare people or mess with their heads.”

“For real?” The surprise in his tone was genuine, or at least I thought it was.

“And you said you went somewhere else first,” I tacked on. “There’s only one other place I can think of, and you don’t go there accidentally.”

“You’re talking about Hell? I didn’t go there accidentally. I was trapped there, and it wasn’t my fault. Obviously, I wouldn’t have a heavenly glow if I was supposed to be there,” he argued. He had a point, but I was beginning to have serious doubts about this. “It’s a long story, but I wasn’t that kind of person when I was alive and I’m not now. I’m not here to hurt anyone, especially not her. I’m trying to save her life and the lives of others.”

26

Chills swept across my skin. I hadn’t expected him to say something that freaking intense. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I need to get a message to them before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“Come on,” he said instead of answering, his jaw clenched with impatience. “We’re almost there.”

Inhaling the greasy scent of nearby fried food, I pushed away from the wall and followed Sam. I realized he’d said them instead of her, but he was gliding at a fast clip, and it was a struggle to keep up with him with all the people crowding the sidewalk.

Another block, and then Sam stopped outside an ice cream parlor, a super cute one from what I could tell from peering in through the large window. Black-and-white-checkered floors. Red booths and stools, and a line that nearly reached the door.

I wasn’t much of an ice cream fan, but when the door swung open and I smelled hot fudge and yummy waffle cones, I was suddenly craving a big old bowl of chocolate drowned in syrup.

“She’s here.” Sam walked right through the wall, leaving me outside.

Trying to shake the feeling of unease, I used the door like a normal living person and stepped into the store, surrounded by the scent of hot fudge and vanilla. I pushed my sunglasses up and looked around. There were booths lining the walls and framed pictures hanging everywhere. I couldn’t make out the details, but they seemed like pop art versions of some of the monuments in the city.

I stayed close to the door since the place was so busy. My heart started thumping heavily. There were so many people, some waiting in line, others hanging around the booths, digging into their ice cream, and as I scanned the faces, there were a few I wasn’t quite sure were alive. The lights of the shop made it hard to focus for any length of time.

For a few seconds, I lost track of Sam as I fiddled with the cord connected to my earbuds, but then he reappeared beside me, standing in front of the door.

“Is she here?” I asked.

“She’s right there.” Sam pointed to the area left of the ice cream bar. “In that booth.”

Following where he pointed, I saw a...girl with chin-length brown hair seated facing the entrance. Something about her was familiar. I inched closer, blinking rapidly like that would somehow soften the glare of the bright fluorescent lights. I took another step, and her blurred features came into some level of clarity. I recognized her pretty face and heavy bangs.

“Holy crap,” I whispered. “That’s Stacey. I know her—well, I’ve met her.” Understanding flooded me. “That’s what you meant when you said you didn’t follow me. You were following her.”

Sam was what I’d seen when Stacey came to the apartment with Roth and Layla. He was that strange shadow I’d seen behind her, and that meant—

“You know Zayne?” I asked.

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter. You need to talk to her.”

“Doesn’t matter? It totally matters.” A father and his daughter passed us, getting in line as I continued to pretend I was on my phone. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because I didn’t know who you were.” He was still staring at Stacey. “Or why you were in his apartment. When I realized you could see me, I didn’t know if I could trust you—not until I knew you’d help me.”

I stared at him, thunderstruck. His sudden appearance was no coincidence. He knew Zayne, and he was a friend of Stacey’s. He was—

Suddenly I remembered what Zayne had said about Stacey. That she had lost someone, just like he had. They’d bonded over it, and I now knew without a doubt that this spirit—Sam—was who she’d lost. I had no idea what had happened to him, but based on the minimal information he’d shared, I had a feeling it wasn’t a natural death.

Oh, man, all of this had bad life choice written all over it. If he’d told me who he was—who he was to Stacey and that he’d known Zayne, I would’ve demanded to know exactly what the message was before agreeing to help. I would’ve sure as Hell contacted Zayne first, not just to tell him that Sam’s spirit was hanging around but also to find out what had happened to Sam.

Come to think of it, why hadn’t Sam asked why I was living with Zayne? He hadn’t asked a single question about who I was or how I was involved.

“Dude...” I said.

“It’s okay.” Sam’s gaze swung back to mine. “Really. Let’s go up to her.”

“You need to tell me what’s going on.”

Sam turned to me. “This can’t wait. You don’t understand. I’m running out of time.”

I stared him down. “You’re not at all curious about who I am?” I whispered. “What I am?”

“I figured since you’re with Zayne, you’re good people.” His gaze bounced to where Stacey sat. “I know what he is.”

“But you said the reason you didn’t tell me who she was was because you didn’t know me. You didn’t trust me—”

“I lied. Okay?” He threw up his arms, one of them going through the chest of a man who walked past us. The man stopped, frowning, and then walked out, shaking his head. “I know what you are. The moment I realized you could see me, I knew what you are, and I knew if you were with Zayne, it had to mean something, but I didn’t know if you were...if you were one of the good ones.”

“What?” I gaped at him. “Okay. You need to tell me everything, and you need to make time—”

“Trinity?”

My head jerked up at the sound of Stacey’s voice. She was staring in my direction, starting to rise. Crap.

“Look.” Sam grabbed for my arm, but his hand went through it. “She’s seen you.”

Every instinct was telling me this was going to end badly, but it was too late to duck and run. Mentally cursing myself and Sam up and down the street, I shuffled over to the booth. As I drew closer, I saw Stacey’s fingers flying over the screen of her phone. I drew in a shallow breath as I glanced over the table—

Was that a...pack of Twizzlers next to the ice cream in front of Stacey?

It was.

Oh my God, who ate Twizzlers with ice cream? That was the grossest thing ever.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” A thick fringe of bangs fell over her forehead as she placed her phone down and looked around the parlor.

“Same,” I murmured, and Stacey’s brows disappeared under her bangs.

Exhaling loudly, I glanced at Sam, who was sitting next to Stacey. “This is going to sound really random, but—”

“I’m used to random. Are...are you okay? You look a little pale...” She trailed off, frowning as she looked at where Sam sat.     PrevNextTip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.

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