9. Sekani Aelor

Chapter 9

Sekani Aelor

T he suspicious husband got home early—thankfully—and I returned to my apartment, Isla in tow. She was babbling happily as she munched on a french fry when I knocked on Mrs. Taffett’s door.

She yanked it open, heaving for breath. For once, she wasn’t an utter mess. “Come in. I’m making dinner.”

I stepped inside and looked around. The whole place was spotless. The laundry had been washed. The dishes were put away. She’d picked up toys and organized the things that had been scattered everywhere. Compared to what I usually encountered when I ended up inside her apartment, this was . . . another planet.

“You can see the floor,” Callum said.

Mrs. Taffett lifted a steaming pot from the stove as I said, “It looks good in here.”

She laughed awkwardly. “Yeah. I got home this morning but you were already gone so I got some sleep and since you still weren’t back figured I could go grocery shopping and clean up without worrying about Isla. Thank you for keeping her.”

I set Isla down on the other side of the baby gate and she toddled towards her toy box. The house might be spotless now, but I gave it two point—nope.

Isla grasped the side of the toy box and the contents spilled at her feet. She flopped down, happily digging through them. Mrs. Taffett glanced at her as she tipped the pot and drained the water. It obviously didn’t bother her that Isla was making a mess already.

“It was no problem. She’s easy,” I told her.

“Yeah. Just a lot to stay on top of by myself. Thank you so much.” She squeezed a bag of cheese into the pot and grabbed a spoon, stirring it. “It’s not a lot but I had a little left over after I got food for the week—” She stopped mixing the macaroni and cheese and dug in her pocket, pulling out a wad of bills.

I shook my head as she extended them to me.

“It’s fine, Mrs. Taffett. I’ve got an appointment this afternoon so I’ve got to run. Also, you might wanna nix the toy box.” I pointed.

Isla was pushing it across the floor, right towards the baby gate. She was ready to make a break for it. If the kid ever ended up in prison, she was going to have the know-how to get out at the rate she was going.

“Shipyard!” Mrs. Taffett swore, abandoning the food. I turned the stove off as she picked Isla up and tucked her under her arm. She grabbed the toy box and dropped it on the other side of the baby gate so Isla couldn’t use it to climb.

“I’ll lock the door behind me,” I told her.

“Thanks,” she called as she fought to get Isla into a highchair. I shook my head, opening the door, turning the lock and closing the door behind me.

“She’s a mess but damn if I don’t admire her try-hard,” I told Callum.

She showed up, time and time again, even when Isla was doing her best to be difficult.

“She seems like she just needs a break and a good job,” Callum said.

“She at least needs a reliable babysitter,” I told him as I unlocked my apartment.

“You have two deadbeats freeloading off you for right now.” The deadbeats he mentioned were sprawled on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn between them. Oculus , a movie about a freaky ass mirror, was playing on the television as they stuffed their faces. “And a ghost.”

“I’m not sure I trust those two with a kid,” I said. River looked over his shoulder and grinned. His mouth was full of popcorn. There were crumbs on his chin. “Definitely not that one.”

He’d have Isla possessed in ten minutes, maybe five. Okay. More likely three.

“I’m great with kids,” River protested. I rolled my eyes.

“Uh huh,” Callum said, hot on my heels as I crossed towards the hallway. “You would introduce her to a ghost or worse—the internet.”

I turned to look at the two deadbeats and came to a dead stop as my eyes landed on Waylin’s chest. There was an occult tattoo there, but not just any old tattoo. Not like the stupid ones he had on his arms. Those were useless. They did jack shit. But the one on his chest— that one . . .

I was moving before I was aware of it. Waylin’s eyes widened as I jerked him to his feet and turned him into the light streaming through the window. “Wh?—”

“What the fuck is this?” I asked, poking at the intricate circle. “Why do you have it?”

When did he get it? Where? Had he lost his goddamn mind?

Waylin looked down at his chest. His face went a little pale, as if he’d just remembered it existed at all.

“It’s harmless,” he said. “Like the others.”

He was a shit liar. Always had been. “I swear to God, Waylin—” I gave him a shake so he knew I wasn’t fucking around, “—you’d better tell me if you’re using a Book of Shadows, right now. And don’t bother lying—even River can lie better than you and that’s saying something.”

“I’m not . . . anymore,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

My hand flexed around his arm. I shook him again. “Why? You know better. And this—” I poked him in the chest, over the tattoo, and he flinched. It was old—healed. “Trying to summon your own door? Do you have any idea how stupid that is?”

He had to know. He couldn’t be that stupid. It was one thing to walk through someone else’s door as a spirit medium but his own? Jesus, fuck! You walk through your own door, even before you’re supposed to, there’s no coming back.

“Even I know that’s stupid,” River muttered from the sofa, popcorn bowl in his hand.

“Where is the book, Waylin?” He shook his head. I jerked him back and forth as if he were a rag doll. “I’m gonna kill you. Then when you come back as a ghost, I’m gonna put you in someone else’s body just so I can kill you again. Where is the fucking book?”

“I burned it! Okay?” His voice dropped as he looked away. “It was . . . messing with me. So I burned it.” He tugged free and rubbed at the tattoo.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Why did it seem like bad things came in threes? Couldn’t I just deal with one problem at a time? “At least your stupidity has a limit.”

“If I may interject,” River said. I glanced at him. “Waylin would know better if you would teach us how to use the doors.”

I frowned as I looked from him to Waylin then back again.

“Fuck me. I don’t have time for this fight. But we’re having it as soon as I get back,” I told them both.

I had a meeting with Luke, who’d been fighting with Callum the night he was hit by a drunk driver. For the moment, that meeting was more important than this old disagreement.

“Why does everything have to be a fight?” River popped up from the sofa and followed me as I headed towards my bedroom, Waylin hot on his heels. “Even now you have two other spirit mediums, you still insist on going it alone.”

“One of you antagonizes ghosts for fun .” I glared at River. “Fuck if I know what the other one does but clearly it’s something just as stupid,” I said as I started yanking out of my clothes and jerking on a fresh set that wasn’t covered in baby drool, ketchup drippings, and one spilled sippy cup of milk.

“I’ve told you both a million times, the doors are not playthings. They’re dangerous.” I shoved my feet into my shoes and buttoned my pants.

“And they’re all around us,” River countered. “Don’t you think we should know how to defend ourselves? Maybe if you showed me more, I wouldn’t have to run to you every time I get possessed.” He crossed his arms over his chest. I glared at him.

Maybe he wouldn’t get possessed so damn much if I showed him.

And maybe that dumbass wouldn’t have a summoning circle tattooed on his chest.

“You want to learn about the doors?” I snapped as I shoved my arms through the sleeves of a shirt. “Fine. Just as soon as he gets that shit on his chest covered up. Every door for that idiot is his door. You better be glad I never showed you how to open them, Waylin. And you.” I looked at River. “Get a sigil of protection. There’s an artist on Eighth and Met that knows me. Just tell him I sent you and what you need done.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” River rubbed his hands together as he looked at Waylin with a grin. “You go have fun with your ghost boo. We’ll get our work done.”

They bounced out, chattering with open excitement.

“Ghost boo? He’s an idiot.” Callum said.

I shoved my fingers through my hair and stuffed my phone and keys in my pocket. “If you’re expecting me to disagree, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Are the doors really that dangerous?”

“The doors themselves—no. But the world beyond? Extremely.”

“What happens if a ghost never goes through their door?” he asked as we left my room.

“You get stuck doing the same thing over and over—like you were before, walking up and down the street. You turn into a poltergeist if you don’t go full-on crazy immediately.”

From there, things just got worse.

“That sounds awful,” Callum muttered, hugging himself.

I reached out and grasped the back of his neck before pulling him into my chest for no other reason than he seemed as if he needed the comfort. “I’m not going to let that happen to you,” I promised.

We were going to get him back in his meat suit.

He attempted a weak smile. “What happens if?—”

“No,” I cut him off. “I said what I said.”

“Sekani—”

I shook my head and tpped his head back with a finger under his chin. “Don’t make more problems for us. Alright.”

He searched my face for a long, silent moment before surging forward and pressing his mouth against mine. A shiver rolled down my spine and I frozen. Just as he went to pull back, I tightened my hold on the nape of his neck and licked into his mouth.

Callum went limp against my chest with a soft moan as our tongues slide together.

Kissing a ghost was . . . not that different from kissing a flesh and blood man. For me at least. Under my hand he was as solid and warm as any body. But he was a ghost.

I tore my mouth away from his and he stumbled forward before catching himself. “I . . . Sekani?—”

I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with this right now, not when I had so many other things to deal with first.“Let’s go see Luke.”