11. Evan

11

Evan

U nlike the first time I rode with Cary, he talked on and on about the friends I was going to stay with. I knew it was as much for him as it was for me.

He’d driven us back to his cottage to get a shirt, and to be honest, I hadn’t minded seeing the defined chest and very neat six-pack he sported underneath his clothes. Unfortunately, this was not the time to lust after some man—especially a man who may have tried to kill me had he remained possessed earlier. I had the door to the car open and was ready to bolt again when he got back. He knew instantly what I was doing and sighed. “Mr. Garland, it’s still me. I told you… well, never mind, I can’t blame you for being concerned.”

Confident he was still himself, I closed the door and put my seat belt back on. However, I kept my hand on the belt latch and close to the door handle the entire way to town. I didn’t blame Cary for what had happened with the ghost, not entirely anyway, but I didn’t trust him either. No one in their right mind would.

When we pulled up to a sweet midcentury modern home, I sighed in relief. We’d made it without incident, and it felt a little less likely this house would be haunted. Although, I didn’t know that for sure. Hell, I didn’t know anything anymore.

As I followed Cary up the front steps, I sighed again. I’d been a living skeptic of all things paranormal until now. Horror flicks never bothered me. Ghost stories didn’t scare me. Hell, I thought The Blair Witch Project was more of a comedy than scary. Now, I was rethinking everything. I was a terrified mouse in a world full of lions!

Cary gave a quick knock, and the most beautiful woman opened the door. She wore a white billowy dress that whipped around her, although I felt no wind. The white glowed against her luscious mahogany-colored skin. When she looked at me, her brown eyes seemed to turn green just before she smiled and introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Christie Jal, and you would be?” she asked, and suddenly I couldn’t remember my own name.

I stared at the woman for a long moment before my mind collected itself. “Evan Garland,” I said, and took the hand she offered.

I turned just in time to see Cary shake his head. “Christie, he’s been through a lot. Please, don’t mess with him right now.”

The tall goddess turned toward Cary and, for a moment, she looked like a lioness on the hunt. Then her face morphed into a glorious smile, and even my gay heart danced in my chest at her beauty.

“I see you’re in a mood, fine. Evan, come inside and meet my wife. Al, sweetheart,” she called out, “Come meet our guest.” I turned to see a short woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, enter the room. “Evan, this is my wife, Al.”

Wife? How could anyone be married to the Goddess Jal? I almost said something when Al looked at me, then over at her wife and sighed.

“It’s never-ending, truly never-ending,” she said. “I swear my entire coven, my wife included, is determined to give me gray hair.”

Al waved her hand between Christie and me, and said, “Enthralled no more!”

My head cleared immediately, and this time when I looked at Christie, I still saw a beautiful woman, but the intensity from before was gone.

“Ugh, you’re no fun, Al.”

I shook my head. “Wait, did you have me under a spell?” I asked, and Christie laughed.

“Well, of course I did, darling. What kind of witch would I be if I didn’t use my gifts to enthrall my guests?”

I looked over at Cary, then back at the two women, and simply walked out of the front door and back down the road. I’d had enough of all this. Evil spirits and now witches that could control my mind and make me question my sexuality? No, thank you.

When I heard Cary running to catch up, I ignored him. “I’m going to The Pink Palace. Please bring my things if and when you can fetch them from the manor.”

“Wait, please. Christie was just joking around, it wasn’t personal.”

“Yeah, having your mind controlled by a complete stranger is loads of fun. I’ll be at The Pink Palace if you need me.”