A Strange There After (13 page)

“You’re doing it now?”

I squealed and spun, nearly bumping into
Boone. “What are you doing?” I hissed.

“Backup.” He grinned. “Remember? Do you need
a pep talk?”

“Go away. I don’t need an audience for
this.”

“What? I can’t come in?” I glared at him,
feeling time slipping from me. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait out
here.”

“Like that’s going to help,” I muttered.

With a deep breath, I pushed through the
thick wooden door, not letting the odd sensation distract me.
Luckily, we were the only occupants.

The absurd situation became even more so when
I realized she was in the stall, humming to herself. No chance like
the present, catching her with her pants down, literally. I stifled
a laugh and focused. As soon as I heard the toilet flush, I sucked
in a deep breath and threw myself into the stall door.

Catherine was smoothing out her dress when I
broke through the other side. Only a moment passed before I rushed
at her, but it lasted long enough to catch her shocked expression,
tinged by a flicker of fright. I leapt at her body, concentrating
on fitting where I belonged. Similar to the other night, I had to
find the correct position, matching hers perfectly. When I located
it, I felt a slight pinch, but some other force continued to buffer
me. Catherine. She must be fighting. I didn’t have a whole lot of
time until she regained the upper hand. I had to make the most of
the opportunity.

I burnt five precious seconds becoming
reacquainted with the beating of my heart, to air filling my lungs.
Yet, it wasn’t the only thing I wasn’t used to. I found that out
the hard way when I tried to lift my hand to open the door. My
knuckles slammed against the metal, causing me to curse. Except,
the curse came out slurred.

It took me three tries to work the handle of
the stall and pull it open. Then came the daunting task of putting
one foot in front of the other. The entire room tilted and pitched,
as if I was on a boat at sea. I lurched forward, slamming into the
granite vanity. Gripping the counter tight, I marveled at how
cumbersome and awkward it felt to be in my body. I would have sworn
it weighed a thousand pounds. It was like a stranger’s. I glanced
up, startled by the wild-eyed version of myself. With a trembling
hand I smoothed down my hair and snatched a paper towel to blot the
shiny sweat from my face.

“You can do it,” I told the reflection, happy
the words sounded coherent.

You won’t get away with this!

Catherine’s frantic voice startled me, and my
control slipped. It was as if my insides were engaged in a brutal
game of tug of war, and I had to constantly struggle to remain
locked inside my body. She poked through for a second, throwing me
into the vanity, the edge of the sink digging into my hip. I bit my
tongue, blood warm and salty on my tongue. Each movement I
attempted was the result of seconds of deliberation.

The door to the bathroom opened as I flailed
about, pushing against Catherine. A woman in her fifties stepped
in, clad in glittery sequins from head to toe, eyeing me
warily.

“You okay, sugar?”

I jerked upright, once again patting my hair,
and nodded. As I moved past her and out the door, my steps were
spastic, bringing to mind the saying, ‘ants in your pants’. I was
sure that was exactly how I looked. Well...or drunk out of my
mind.

She watched me exit, and I caught a glimpse
of her shaking her head. Great, she probably thought I was a
teenage lush. Granted, it was precisely how I felt, or imagined it
would, having never been drunk before. After this experience I
never wanted to not have control over my actions. Making my way
down the hall, I kept one palm flat on the wall for balance, aware
my head twitched on my shoulders like a decomposing zombie.

I found Boone, pacing, not far from the
entrance to the lounge. As I took a lurching step forward, his eyes
nearly popped out. He recovered quickly, but not before letting out
a wolf whistle.

“Evening, ma’am.”

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me!”

His brows shot up, and he gaped at me. Once
he got over his shock, he regarded me with newfound respect.

“You did it. Nice,” he said in awe. “I have
to say, I had my doubts.”

“You shouldn’t. This is right up your alley,”
I hissed.

I continued on my way, but he had to sneak in
the last word. “I’ll be nearby if this spirals out of your
control.”

Waving him off, I tried not to care about the
odd stares I drew. All I focused on was winning this fight with
Catherine and keeping her from ousting me before I had a chance to
find Jason.

Who was that guy?

I ignored her, focusing on my feet and
getting them to move.

I can already feel your strength
fading,
she said smugly.

“Stay out of my mind,” I grumbled.

A couple people nearby swiveled their heads,
assessing me with judgmental stares. One very pretty girl actually
laughed. Jeez, it was high school all over again. Distracted by the
attention, I tripped over my foot, uncomfortable as ever in heels,
and would have fallen face first had I not gripped the arm of a
waiter as he passed. He bobbled the glasses on his tray, but
miraculously managed to keep them from crashing to the floor. After
shrugging me off, I was rewarded with a glare. Once I regained my
balance I swept the room, searching.

Finally, I found Jason on the balcony,
thankfully alone, staring at the river. As I passed outside I
misjudged the doorway and slammed my shoulder into it. Pain shot
down my arm, and I lifted it in awe. Oh, I’d forgotten this!
Amazing how good hurting myself felt when it wasn’t being done by
vengeful spirits.

“Quinn? You okay?”

I snapped my head up, staring directly into
Jason’s eyes and luxuriated in the butterflies erupting in my
stomach. Now I was here words failed me, and laughter filled my
mind. I ignored Catherine’s glee, as well as her shoving, and
licked my lips. My mouth had gone completely dry.

“It’s not m—,” I started to say ‘me’ but lost
control. Catherine finished the sentence. “Monday.”

I groaned, noticing how Jason’s lips quirked.
“No, it’s Thursday.” His brows knitted together. “Is something
wrong?”

“Don’t trust her,” I blurted. Ha, she didn’t
interrupt that one.

“Who? Do you mean Madeline? I disagree. The
part is light years above anything I’ve done in the past, but you
know I want to get away from these ridiculous heartthrob roles. It
might be worth the risk.”

I shook my head frantically, unable to stop
my leg from shooting out and knocking aside a nearby chair. My
entire body trembled with exertion, of trying so hard to hold onto
myself. Any second, I was afraid my knees would give out.

I don’t know why I’m so worried. This is
amusing.

“Shut up!”

“Okay, Quinn, what is the matter?” He lowered
his voice and drew me into a dark corner. Concern settled across
his features as he reached up and brushed his knuckles across my
cheek.

The simple touch stole my concentration, and
my tenuous hold weakened. I felt Catherine coming through, pushing
and pulling me, the same way she did in the cemetery. Desperate,
feeling the seconds slipping, I used all of my remaining power to
grasp Jason’s jacket and pull him to me. My lips found his, and
suddenly nothing else mattered. Warmth pulsed through me, and a
tear slipped out of my eye. It’d been so long since I experienced
anything like this. The kiss ignited my blood, sent it singing.
Life coursed through my veins, the sweet exquisite agony of being
alive.

He drew me closer, gripping me tighter and
running a palm up my spine. Chills raced up my arms, bringing me
crashing into reality as my shaky hold vanished.

“No!” I cried out, breaking our connection.
“Save me!”

“What are you talking about? You’re scaring
me.”

Jason’s questions were drowned out by a moan,
my moan, and I became aware of people staring out at us. Then,
everything whirled as a painful pinch pulled me upward and out.
Next thing I knew, I stared at them, at Catherine and Jason. Her
cheeks were flushed, and he appeared confused, maybe a little
scared, but he kept his arms around her.

She flashed me a triumphant smirk before
frowning and adapting a shaky tone. “I’m sorry. I may have eaten
something bad. Take me home?”

He nodded, tucking her against his shoulder
and guiding her inside, in the direction of the elevator. “Let’s
get you out of here.”

Despair crashed into me as I remembered the
joy of the last few minutes, of being where I belonged. Having that
reminder made this form feel like even more of a nightmare. I
should be awash in pain, but there was only emptiness. I couldn’t
even celebrate the fact it worked, if only for a short time.

Before the elevator doors closed, shutting
off my view of them, I watched Jason kiss her temple, being so
gentle with her. It was more than I could take. Another tear
trickled down my cheek. I sensed Boone at my side.

“Don’t start,” I warned.

“Not a word, I promise. May I escort you
home?”

I nodded woodenly. Over the past couple weeks
I grew accustomed to being a ghost. The pain of being separated
from my life became something I thought I could live with. After
having a taste of living again, success felt farther away than
ever.

Boone walked beside me in silence, which I
appreciated. The further we got from the Bohemian Hotel the more I
concentrated on the positive. I’d done it, only for ten minutes,
but it was a start. With a little practice I’d find the answer to
controlling my body. I had to be stronger, but how did I do that?
Lift weights?

“You’re prettier than she is.”

I glanced sharply at my companion, positive
he’d been joking, but he returned my stare earnestly.

“Impossible. It’s my body.”

“Attractiveness is not based only on the
physical.”

I actually gaped at him, stunned the words
came from his lips.

“Beauty is about more than what is outside.
She’s fake, high-maintenance. Granted, I don’t know you very well,
but I can’t imagine you with heavy makeup or a dress that tight.
You are a lot more real, if that makes sense.”

It didn’t, not really, not in the way he
suggested. If this person, who was practically a stranger, noticed
it, why hadn’t Jason? I wanted to take the spotlight off myself,
and the disturbing answer to my question, so, since he obviously
felt talkative, I tried to find out more about him.

“When did you realize you were different?
That you could see things nobody else could?”

He ducked his head and adjusted his glasses,
giving me the impression he didn’t discuss it often, which
surprised me. Normally, he didn’t mind talking about his favorite
subject—himself.

“I grew up in Florida. As a kid, I was sick a
lot...heart condition. I spent a lot of time in and out of
hospitals, learning how to charm the nurses. I died twice.” He
paused. “I was eight the second time and woke up in the hospital
with a little girl standing next to my bed. No one acknowledged her
but me, and I couldn’t figure out why. When I went home I saw
people, some with pretty horrific wounds, at the most random
places.”

“You must have some leftover connection to
the spirit world,” I suggested. “Not unlike Catherine. I always
assumed that’s why she can torment me as successfully as she
does.”

“Well, it also might be because she’s setting
up shop in your body. You’re right, though. In all my research,
it’s the best explanation I’ve come up with. I crossed over and
came back. There must be some residual effects. It took me a long
time to accept it. As a kid, all you want is to be like everyone
else.”

This was a completely different side of him,
and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I never had anyone to
talk to about my sensitive ability or knew how to explain what I
went through on a daily basis without sounding loony. It was pretty
refreshing. So I opened up a little.

“I grew up in a haunted house. For as long as
I can remember, I’ve sensed spirits, but it kind of grows with me.
The older I get, the more I can control and understand it. I
inherited it from my mama. She used to chat with the ghost in my
house, or so he tells me now.”

He assessed me with admiration. “I kind of
wish mine came on steadily. Since day one, it’s been a hundred
percent, not gradual at all. Very few people understand.”

“Exactly.” We crossed a street and cut into
one of the many squares dotting Savannah. Green grass spread around
us, gas lamps the only illumination. I always loved how quiet they
were at night, when the tourists left, and the city went to
sleep.

“Is this the same one we came to the other
night?”

“No, that was Johnson Square, this is
Forsyth. Over there, beyond those trees, is the Forsyth Park
Fountain, one of the most photographed places in town.”

A shadow moved a few feet to our right, and
we both tracked it. The simple observation made me feel closer to
him.

“Why ghost hunting?” he asked.

Delaying my return home to face the music of
what I’d done tonight, I sank into the thick grass and lay back,
staring up at the stars. Plus, I wanted time to decide how to
answer Boone’s question. I closed my eyes and breathed deep. Fall
was coming, the nights had cooled off, but I didn’t really feel it.
My favorite season and I might miss it completely. No Halloween. No
caramel apples and pumpkins. No rainy days. Not even the promise of
starting college.

I sighed, determined to stay on topic. “My
mama died when I was younger, Daddy about five years ago. I figured
if I could see ghosts...”

“You should be able to find them,” he
finished, easing himself to the ground beside me. “Did it ever
work?”