Good Will Ghost Hunting: Demon Seed [Good Will Ghost Hunting 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (18 page)

The world didn’t stop spinning, lightning didn’t strike her dead.

Her father didn’t call.

She found Will in the edit room and closed the door behind her, sat in a nearby chair, and waited for him to finish. He turned to face her.

Her voice a whisper, she forced herself not to close her eyes as she looked into his gray eyes. “Okay.”

He didn’t make her say it again or ask her what she meant. He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Okay.”

“Tonight?” she asked.

He nodded. “Okay.”

They hadn’t told her what would happen if the wraith wasn’t out of her by the full moon, but from Ryan’s words she had a feeling she didn’t want to know. Even now, as the afternoon lengthened, she felt it roll inside her again, testing its power. A sudden wave of intense hatred rippled through her. She gripped the arms of her chair and waited for the feeling to pass, tried to force it back down inside her.

Will watched her, sensing something going on within her. “Are you okay?” he asked. The genuine concern in his voice made her want to cry.

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s just really nasty, that’s all.”

“I’m so sorry, Kal.”

“I know. It’s not your fault.”

When the guys showed up later, Will pulled them aside, and they left without further discussion. At five o’clock, Will left the edit room. “Can I take you out to dinner?” he quietly asked her.

Her stomach was bound in knots she knew weren’t entirely due to the wraith’s presence. “Do we have time?”

He nodded. “Moon’s not due up until almost nine.”

“Okay.”

He held the car door for her, and she realized the few times she’d rode with him he did that. Things like holding doors, waiting until she sat to sit. Will was a gentleman.

He was a gentle man.

He took her to the small, family-owned Cuban restaurant near Ybor City that the crew frequented. “Did you want something to drink, wine or sangria or something?” he asked her.

She forced a wan smile and shook her head. “I don’t drink. Just iced tea, please.”

He nodded and looked at the waitress. “Two, please.”

They made uncomfortable small talk, discussed the show, and by the time their entrees arrived, she almost felt normal. Except for the wraith occasionally struggling inside her and the knowledge that in a few hours she wouldn’t be a virgin anymore. She still couldn’t quite accept she would be bonded to Will permanently. She’d have to research it.

One thing at a time. She didn’t want to commit to being with someone for eternity if she wasn’t sure she loved him, even though her heart rapidly headed in that direction where Will Hellenboek was concerned. Even if Aidan hadn’t weighed in with his opinion, now knowing what she knew about Will’s past cemented in her mind and heart that he was a good man, a loving man. A man in pain who had been through more in his life than she could ever possibly imagine.

They discussed any and everything except the steaming pile of doo-doo they were immersed in. She couldn’t stand it anymore.

“What happens after…after tonight. What’s next?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “That’s up to you.” His gaze briefly flicked to hers, then back to the table. “Whatever you want to do.” He fidgeted with his napkin.

“Aren’t there rules or something? I got the impression from what Ryan said that we’ll be pretty much stuck together.” She regretted the word as soon as she used it. Will winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “It’s okay. You have no reason to apologize. You’re the one dragged into this.” She once again sensed his deep sadness.

“You don’t want to do this either, do you?” She already knew the answer, but she needed to talk about this.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing personal. I just had plans, that’s all. I thought I was finished with The Firm for good.”

“Why did you want to die?” she quietly asked.

He looked at his hands. She had to concentrate to hear his soft reply. “Losing a soul mate isn’t like losing a wife or husband. They’re part of you, part of your soul.” He took a long, shuddering breath. “It’s not just emotional pain. It’s physical. It’s an agonizing, physical pain that doesn’t go away. I don’t know how others have dealt with it. I didn’t know if I would have been with her again in another life, but I was ready to be out of pain.”

He frowned. “What’s worse is Ryan knowing how much I hurt and still not letting me go. He had no right to force me to stay here considering he’s been through it. Maybe he’s a better man than I am, I don’t know.” He took a sip of his drink. “All I know is that I don’t remember what it’s like to not feel pain,” he quietly said. “And now…I guess I’d better get used to it since I’m going to be here for a long time.”

Maybe time to redirect the conversation a little. “Why is it called The Firm?”

He shrugged. “It’s just what we call it. It’s always been called some variation of that.”

“There’s a lot I’ve got to learn, isn’t there?”

He nodded. “Don’t try to absorb it all at once.”

A silence settled over them and she felt the need to break it. “What have you done for them? What was your job?”

“Lots of things. Whatever was called for. Mostly I was a Protector. Taking care of innocents, going into combat as needed when something broke through. There’s a lot of things humans don’t know about. Shouldn’t ever know about. It makes life simpler for everyone if we quietly take care of things and life goes on.”

“I don’t think I can kill. Not even something evil.”

He shook his head. “You’ll never be asked to do that. Ryan will only use you as a go-between. He’ll never knowingly put you in harm’s way.” He looked at her. “It’s okay. I know Aidan told you a little about Abby.”

“Did…” She couldn’t speak Abby’s name. It didn’t feel right, like it would disrespect the memory of the woman Will loved for so long, even decades after her death. “Did she fight?”

He looked sad, wistful. “Yes. A long time ago. Not in modern times. She came from a totally different society. For all intents and purposes, it was a different world. She came from a warrior people, their survival depended on everyone’s ability to fight. The irony is back then, women were much stronger than today in many ways, allowed more freedoms. They could hold their own, they had to. Men couldn’t spend their time protecting them, they had to protect the villages and hunt. Women had to be able to fight.”

He looked lost in thought, lost in the past as he studied his hands again.

A question Kal couldn’t contain passed her lips, unstoppable. “How many women have you been with in your life?” she whispered.

He didn’t look at her. “One.”

She thought her heart would stop. “One?”

Eventually he lifted his head. She wasn’t sure, but she thought his eyes looked moist. “She was the only woman I’ve ever been with. The only one I’d ever wanted to be with.”

Kal struggled to process that. Here was a man, God only—literally—knew how old he was, and he had only been with one woman in his life, ever? Even after his wife died so many years earlier?

Despite her mind struggling to accept everything, Kal’s heart and soul slipped further and irretrievably toward love.

* * * *

Dinner lasted as long as it safely could before Will silently signaled for their check. Every action telegraphed his reluctance as clearly as if he’d spoken. It made Kal feel both better and worse, that he was willing to do this for her, yet he was being forced to do this for her.

Before he started the car, he sat for a moment, staring out the windshield, then turned to her. “I mean it,” he softly said. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I never meant to make you feel like I hated you but I…” He closed his eyes and softly swore. “I had plans. A plan. I’m sorry Ryan dragged you into this. I’m sorry he screwed with you and manipulated you into doing this. This isn’t fair to you. I’m so sorry.”

She hesitantly touched his hand. “Will, this isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“Thank you.” He gently squeezed her hand before starting the car and backing out of the parking lot.

She’d never been to Will’s place. She knew he lived a few miles from her, in a private, upscale gated condo community requiring a security code for entrance. She attempted more small talk to fill the silence. “Bet it helps keep the paparazzi away.”

“They stay away regardless. They have to.”

He didn’t elaborate, but she suspected she’d learn what he meant soon enough.
Well, if teleportation wasn’t an issue, what the heck, let’s go ahead and believe in some sort of force field, too.
Her grasp on sanity was loosened enough it couldn’t hurt to fling it into the wind without regard to reality, right?

Reality didn’t look so certain anymore, either.

They parked in front of a one-story condo that was part of a duplex. He walked around to open her door for her, his actions again reminding her that he was a good guy despite the whole crazy situation.

Kal took a deep, nervous breath and followed Will to his front door.

Will unlocked the front door and walked in. He left the lights off and dropped his keys on a table in the foyer. Kal made no move to follow.

He glanced over his shoulder. “You don’t have to stand out there.”

“It’s dark in there. Mind putting on a light?”

“Oh, sorry.” He snapped on a lamp and continued into the condo. “I’m used to it.”

“Yeah.” She closed the front door behind her and stood in the foyer.

He walked into the kitchen and turned on the light. She heard the fridge open and close. The condo looked tidy and sparse. A comfortable leather sofa, coffee table, two matching chairs. End tables on either side of the sofa. Not much in the way of decoration, just a few framed pictures on top of a small, half-full bookcase. Cream tile floors and white walls. It could have been a hotel room. In fact, she’d stayed in hotel rooms with more personality than Will’s home. It looked more like a short-term rental apartment, one a tourist would lease for a few weeks, than a permanent residence.

Her own apartment had been better decorated when she arrived.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked, assuming he must have recently moved.

“Fifteen years.” He appeared in the kitchen doorway and wouldn’t meet her gaze. He took a sip from a glass of ice water in his hand.

She finally spoke. “What do we do now?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He wouldn’t look at her, his slate gray eyes studying the floor. His expression screamed reluctance. She felt on edge, between her nerves and the wraith struggling for control.

She set her purse on the same table he’d placed his keys. “I’m not exactly the expert here.”

His jaw clenched, and she considered apologizing for the bite in her tone. Every movement, the set of his body, spoke volumes. He didn’t want to do this either.

She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

His eyes briefly lifted to her face, then away again. “Would you like something to drink—”

“I already told you, I don’t drink.”

She heard his deep intake of breath, as if trying to stop an impending comment. “I have water, iced tea, or orange juice. Or I can make you hot tea or coffee.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He fell silent for a moment. “Well?”

She shivered. “Well, what?”

“Would you like something to drink?”

Another pang of guilt pricked her. She wasn’t making this any easier on either of them. “Oh. Sorry. Yes, water’s fine. Thank you.”

He returned to the kitchen, and she heard him open the fridge, drop ice into a glass, and run the tap briefly. He returned and stopped halfway across the living room, a glass in his outstretched hand. “Here.”

She finally stepped across the dim room and took it from him, her fingers brushing his as she accepted the glass. Only then did his gaze rise to meet hers for the most fleeting of moments. She again felt that electric tingle of their first meeting.

This wouldn’t be bad. He was cute, he was sweet. He wasn’t a jerk. They’d just gotten off on the wrong foot. If she’d known about his history, she would have cut him a lot more slack early on.

Then again, she might have run screaming from the entire crazy situation.

She took a long swallow from the glass. “Thank you.”

He nodded and returned to the kitchen. “Feel free to help yourself to anything in the fridge or cabinets—”

“Like a knife to slit my throat?” She’d meant it as a snarky quip to break the tension, like she would normally joke around with Aidan, but realized after she’d said it how it sounded. Through the pass-through counter she watched Will freeze. She immediately regretted her words. “Will, I’m—”

“No. It’s okay,” he softly said.

It wasn’t okay. Kal couldn’t see his face, but she knew he struggled with this as much as she did.

The pictures on the bookcase caught her eye and she walked over. The largest on the top showed Will with a woman. The picture appeared old, not recent.

And he wore a broad, beaming smile.

Will was still in the kitchen. Kal picked up the picture frame and studied it in the dim light. He looked the same, unaged. They stood together, arms around each other, leaning against the Bayshore Drive balustrade. Tampa General Hospital was clearly visible in the background across the channel on Davis Island, but it looked nothing like it did now. There was no denying the picture must be at least several decades old. The woman stood a little shorter than him, with her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail. Their passionate gazes leapt from the picture. This couple was obviously deeply in love with each other—

The frame jerked out of her hands. “Don’t touch that. Please.” He carefully, lovingly set it back in its place. Kal hadn’t had time to feel startled by his stealthy approach, much less his rude manners.

“Sorry.”

He stared at the picture, caressed the glass, and finally glanced her way before his gaze once again dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I just…I don’t like people touching that.”