27. Damian

Chapter twenty-seven

Damian

T he night was glorious. Owen slept snugly in my arms, and although I didn't sleep, my heart overflowed having him there. Not just that, having had Cary here, as well as Molly, felt right too.

Molly rarely came to my apartment. Mostly because it was in a not-so-great part of town but also because so much of my father had been there, the place never felt like it belonged to me. I think even though my beloved witch-wannabe friend didn't have Cary's powers, she was intuitive enough to feel uncomfortable.

Tonight had been very different. She'd settled in like she'd been coming over for years. I had expected her to gasp about how quickly the rooms had changed. There was no way a renovation like this could occur in such a short time.

What struck me was she didn't even seem to notice. If she had, she would've known magic had to have been involved .

Cary was a totally different turn of events. I hadn't understood the significance of him coming over until he walked through the wards. That's when the alarms went off in my head. Witches are primarily guardians of the light but could change alliances easily enough.

Cary was, of course, no threat to me now or likely ever. He'd been allowed through the wards, but the ghosts had made it clear he wasn't allowed back into the home without a fight. Even if he came in alone, my wards were still in place and would resist him.

I had no doubt, however, the biggest deterrent to him or any witch entering my home was the incredible power of the spirits who kept my home running.

I knew all that, yet I also knew it wouldn't be the last time Cary would be invited over. Owen needed friends—more than I did. I could sense that. Cary was definitely a friend in the making for Owen, and if I was being honest, I preferred a strong guardian to be with him when he wasn't with me.

The dark forces had their own rules they followed, and that usually meant that they wouldn't come after an innocent. I also knew not all dark forces followed the rules, and from what Owen had told me about seeing the dark not once but twice… That deserved being wary over.

I could sense that something that wasn't right. Maybe if I wasn't so new at this, I'd be able to figure it out, but as of yet, I couldn't quite tell what we needed to fear .

Luckily, Cary and the witches at his law firm would be a significant deterrent. I understood that most dark entities preferred to hate in the shadows, not in the sunshine. That didn't mean he was completely safe. He couldn't be with me and ever be completely safe.

I made a mental note to talk to Orville and the rest tomorrow. Maybe if they understood why it was important, they wouldn't be quite as upset. I almost snickered out loud at how preposterous that was. They hated the witches, and if my understanding was correct, they had every right to.

I rolled over, causing Owen to do the same. He spooned up against me, and I kissed the sweet softness of his neck. I fell asleep with images of us together like this for years to come, and suddenly, my heart was bursting with happiness.

Of all the ways to fall asleep, this had to be one of the best.

When I woke the following morning, Owen was already gone. I thought it strange that I hadn't noticed him leave. Since I'd begun getting these powers, I was keenly aware of where everyone was, even the ghosts.

I could estimate how many entities were within my walls, and I guessed there were around two hundred at the moment. The basement appeared to be a hub for them. I considered talking to the parchment about that but realized if the old wizard had tolerated it, I could trust that he knew what he was doing.

I got up and showered, then wandered down to the kitchen, where I heard Owen speaking to someone. When I felt the other's presence, I was surprised. I entered the kitchen, and a very young-looking male ghost stood kneading dough on the counter.

When he saw me, he began to fade, but I held my hand up. "You have no reason to fear me," I quickly said. "Please, stay, I can tell you and Owen were enjoying each other's company."

The ghost flickered in and out a few times, then solidified. Then he nodded to me without speaking. I went over and kissed Owen. "What smells so good?" I asked.

Owen looked at the ghost and winked. "Lucious, why don't you tell him? I'm going to run to the restroom, but I'll be right back. Oh, and before you leave, I want you to show me how you did the cinnamon rolls."

He disappeared around the corner, and I looked at our shy cook. "If my nose is correct, those rolls are almost done?" I asked, and the ghost smiled.

"Yes," he said smiling his face showing how shy he must be, "they are almost done."

I could tell something significant had just happened. Orville had made it clear that Cook, as they'd called him, didn't like to be seen. Now Lucious, clearly the cook they'd been referring to, was not only being seen but communicating with us.

"I could use one or a thousand about now," I said, and my stomach growled.

Lucious chuckled. "There are rolls cooling in the basket behind you," he said, and I turned and saw the basket sitting on the butler's pantry shelf covered with a towel .

"Can I have three?" I asked when I pulled the towel off, and the amazing scent hit me harder.

Lucious laughed. "You're the boss. You can have as many as you want. I'm making more now," he said.

I plopped three on a plate and sat across the island from where Lucious was still kneading. When I bit into the cinnamon roll, my mouth burst with flavor. "Oh my God, I might be in love. Lucious, can ghosts marry the living?" I asked just as Owen came in behind me.

"Get in line. I've already proposed," he said but bent over and kissed my neck before sitting beside me, stealing one of my rolls, and stuffing it in his mouth.

"Oh, Damian, do you want coffee? Lucious said they get the beans from…what's the name of the place?" he asked.

Lucious, who was blushing, which I didn't know ghosts could do, answered, "Soratories Beanery."

"Yeah, please," I said as I continued devouring the amazing rolls while Owen poured coffee and the ghost in front of us continued working.

When I tasted the coffee, I moaned with pleasure. "Lucious, this is amazing. The best coffee in Seattle, which is saying a lot. Where is this beanery?" I asked.

Lucious shrugged. "Not where you can get to it. Okay, maybe you can, but Owen can't," he said without looking up.

"Oh, a ghostly establishment?" I said, and Lucious snickered.

"Yes, something like that. "

"I don't understand," Owen stated as he sat down. "How can ghosts make stuff that we can eat and drink? I mean, no offense, but I've never heard of all this happening anywhere else."

Images flowed through my mind with explanations of how things worked. I glanced over at Lucious, who made no attempt to explain, clearly leaving it to me.

"Essence," I told Owen. "Ghosts don't eat food or drink like we do. But all things have an essence. So, just like when they're alive, they can make food. They can also participate in our food rituals, correct?" I asked Lucious, who nodded.

"But that still doesn't explain how Lucious can cook for us, and have we even ever been shopping? Where do the ingredients come from?" he asked.

I laughed. "I think my predecessor is responsible. I can't see his actions, not like I can understand magic and the process of magical things, but Lucious, am I right to assume that the old wizard before me did something to make essence accessible to the living?"

"Yes, that's correct. Owen, I can show you how to make the rest of the rolls now if you wish."

Owen hopped up and went over to Lucious's side of the island. "We use butter here," he said, pointing at the bowl. "Smear it on really well."

I watched as Lucious had Owen do one step after another until the rolls were cut and put to one side to continue rising. "So, the wizard…opened up the possibility that ghosts can create in the realm of the living. Is that why so many ghosts reside here?" I asked.

Lucious didn't respond at first, but finally, he nodded. "You should ask Orville," he said, then sighed. "Are you going to kick us out or give us to the witches?" he suddenly asked, his ghostly face blooming red.

"Of course I'm not!" I replied, surprised at the question.

"You let a witch into your home, something the other wizard never did. Everyone is saying you aren't going to be the ally Elias was."

"Oh," I said and shook my head. "I…Lucious, I assure you, I will never allow the witches to come into my home and disrupt your lives. You have all been nothing but generous to us. Look at you. Even now, you've cooked us this amazing breakfast. Orville has been nothing less than helpful, as have Alice and Emma."

"Then why would you allow a witch into…into our safe space?" he asked.

I sighed, then shook my head. "First, because I didn't understand the significance of inviting him over until, well, until he came through the wards. Second, because Owen and Cary are friends. If Owen is to live here, he has the right to have friends, does he not?"

Lucious sighed. "I can't speak for the other residents of your home, but for me, having a witch here, knowing what they do to us, was like a slap in the face. "

I waved my finger, solidifying Lucious's hand and putting mine on his. "I assure you, Lucious, I didn't mean to offend you or the others. I am appreciative of all you've done for us."

Lucious seemed shocked by the touch; then he became a bit emotional. He stared at our hands and sighed before pulling back, his physical hand returning to spirit form.

"You should talk to them, not just Orville, but all of them. This has been a safe haven for us for a long time. None of us want to give that up."

"Is that why you let us see you?" I asked, and slowly, Lucious nodded.

"I-I was like you two," he said. "Seattle was growing so fast. World War I was over, and buildings were going up everywhere. It was an exciting time. I started going down to Skid Row right after the war ended. I was young, but I knew I liked other men. There was nowhere else to go. I had a boyfriend a lot older than me. I'd just had my twentieth birthday, and he was in his late thirties, but he was wealthy. He owned a few hotels, including the one I worked at. One night, I'd just come out of the casino, one of the few places you could go back then to dance with other guys when I was attacked. I fell, my life slowly pouring out of me, and I saw my lover. Apparently, I had become a liability to him."

Lucious sighed and shook his head. "I died at the hands of the man I thought I loved. I wasn't ready to cross over. I wanted to understand what had happened. Why he'd chosen to kill me. I haunted him for the rest of his life and watched, unable to stop him as he did the same thing to three other young men. Finally, I figured out it wasn't me or the other guys he hated, it was himself, and because the world was unforgiving and hated us because of who we were, he got away with it. The old fart died of old age, never held accountable for what he did."

Lucious gazed up at me then. "The changes in the world didn't help me. Nothing did until the wizard opened his home to us. I was able to feel alive again, to come to terms with myself as a homosexual man. Now, you are here, and you are just like me or like I was. I've never allowed myself to be seen by the living, not until now, not even with the old wizard. I came here today and am here now with you, allowing you to see me because you represent hope, and I can't stand the thought of that going away."

Lucious paused, and I could tell he was imploring me to understand. Owen came around the island, and when he went in for the hug, I did the spell required for Lucious to become physical enough for Owen to make contact.

Tears fell from the ghost's eyes as Owen pulled him tight. "I'm so sorry, Lucious. Please understand we would never hurt you. Not intentionally."

As before, when Lucious pulled back, his body reverted to ghost form. "Okay, enough of that, Owen," he said, pointing toward the tray of rolls. "Those are ready to go into the oven."

Owen smiled and quickly did as he asked. "Lucious," I said. "I will speak with the others. Thanks for letting me know. "

I kissed Owen's cheek, then walked over to the back room, where the stairs led down into the basement, the epicenter of the ghostly home. I felt the pressure build as I descended the steps. By the time I was at the bottom, I was surrounded. Orville stood before me, his face set.

"I've come to talk about yesterday," I said, and a mumble of frustration wafted around the room.

"I know you were upset, and for that, I apologize, but I don't apologize for inviting one of Owen's friends over. I spoke with Cook," I said, instinctively knowing that's how the ghosts referred to him. "He was afraid I was about to sever our relationship with you, and I will tell you now, nothing is further from the truth. I'm a new wizard. So new, I didn't understand the relationship between witches and ghosts. Had I understood, I would've approached the situation differently, but Owen…Owen lives here too, and he needs friends, relationships. My predecessor set much of this up. He put us in the hands of the witches to help keep us safe. I don't yet understand his reasoning, but I will," I said, looking at Orville, who had a better relationship with the old wizard.

He nodded. "You all see it's as I said, the young wizard is building alliances."

I was pleased to hear Orville had defended me. "I… I'm only beginning to glimpse the danger we are all in. The dark has been gathering. Elias told me it's been gathering since long before he departed. They are planning something, and none of us know what, not even him. Alliances are imperative, even with the witches. I disapprove of their ways. You should not be forced to cross over until you're ready." As images of nasty ghosts filled my mind, I quickly added, "I will only condone the forced removal of a ghost if they are actively disrupting the balance of light and dark or are hurting the living without cause. Like Elias, I will not judge unless I'm forced to."

I felt the wave of acceptance at my words. These were Elias's allies, more than any other. I was sure of that, even though I hadn't spoken to him yet. However, I most certainly would today.

"Okay, so are we forgiven?" I asked the room, although I was facing Orville.

I felt nods all around me, then sighed. "Okay, I'm going to get out of your hair, but from now on, please, let me know if you have concerns. You can go through Orville, or you know, set up a time to come sit with me. With the sheer number of you, I don't think I can handle you coming in and out without boundaries, but Orville, Emma, and Alice are all good resources. If you need to speak with me, and probably even Owen, just set up a time to do so."

Orville was smiling, so I figured I'd said the right thing. I waved and returned up the stairs, feeling like I had.

Lucious and Owen were still chatting in the kitchen, so I wandered up to the attic and pulled out the parchment. Time to have Elias fill me in on the ghosts of my home, even if it was a little late. Late was better than never.