…I stop writing and pop another handful of candy corn in my mouth. It’s a dark and stormy evening. No, really it is. A cold front roared in from the north and it’s been raining for most of the day. Just as I notice the lack of wind, a knock on my front door nearly sends me off my bed and into the closet. I haven’t been in the closet since I graduated high school. I’ve no interest in going back in.

“Who’d be out in a night like this?” I mutter as I shove my feet into my Bugs Bunny slippers and trudge down the hall to the front door.
Probably some trick-or-treaters totally ignoring the fact I don’t have my porch light on. There is no way I’m sharing my candy with the bratty neighborhood kids. My hand pauses at the light switch. Christ! Twenty-five and I’m already a curmudgeon. I flip the light on and yank open the door. Whatever I mean to say disappears from my mind as I catch sight of the man standing on my front porch.
Holy honeysuckle, Batman! An angel stands there, soaked and shivering, but trust me when I tell you he is beautiful. Though with my luck, he isn’t one of the heavenly angels. He looks like I’ve always imagined one of the fallen types does. With blue-tinged lips and dripping blond hair, he looks like a five-mile stretch of bad road covered in mud and potholes, yet his underlying hotness shines through.
“Can I come in?” His teeth chatter, and I blink.
It’s the nice thing to do and I know for a fact my neighbors aren’t home, so I can’t even send him to them. With barely disguised annoyance, I step back and gesture for him to step in.
He flows into the front entryway like he owns the place, and somehow his confidence puts me more on edge. I never liked men who ooze arrogance and belonging from every pore. How could he manage it looking like a drowned rat?…

ALSO BY T. A. CHASE

Air And Dreams
Allergies
Bastet
Be The Air For You Bitter Creek’s Redemption Duncan’s World
Embrace My Reflection Freaks In Love
Kissed By God
Lift Your Voice
Nick Of Time
Nowhere Diner: Finding Love Revealing The Past Seduced
Seduced And Revealed Shades Of Dreams Soothe The Burn
Voice For The Silent Why I Love Geeks Wolf’s Survival

BY
T. A. CHASE

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com AN AMBER QUILL PRESS BOOK

This book is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.AmberQuill.com

All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

Copyright © 2011 by T. A. Chase ISBN 978-1-61124-142-6 Cover Art © 2011 Trace Edward Zaber

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Thank you to Cynthia for giving Tabor his name.

CHAPTER 1

At the ripe old age of six, I decided my mother hated me. I mean, why else would she saddle me with a name like Tabor Augustus? Seriously, that’s my name. Of course, no one figures it out when I challenge him or her to guess what T.A. stands for.

What person in her right mind would do that to her only child? Ah, but you see, there’s the rub. Mom was never in her right mind. She was—as my eloquent next-door neighbor says—bat shit crazy.

Whenever anyone asked her who my father was, she replied she didn’t know. That, in itself, didn’t make her crazy. It was her explanation for not knowing his name that landed her squarely in the insane department. One night on All Hallows’ Eve, she took a walk in the woods and met this guy. They had sex and, boom, nine months later I was born. She often described him as dressed in black with long, dark hair. She would tell anyone who listened that she felt compelled to lie with him like he’d cast a spell over her. Yeah, my mom believed in magic as well.

It was so much fun growing up as a bastard in a small town, but being the bastard son of the local crazy woman added an extra element to my formative years. Gave the bullies something else to beat me up over.

By the time I reached second grade, my teachers knew never to call me Tabor. My kindergarten teacher learned the lesson first and passed it on to the others. There’s nothing worse than being ignored by a six-year-old. By calling me T.A., they ensured I would be the best-behaved child in the class. In fact, they would forget about me. I had a knack of blending into the background, though to look at me when I was younger, you’d think no one would forget me.

I was “slightly”—meaning my ears were slightly too big for my head, my nose slightly too big for my face, and my teeth were slightly too big for my mouth. The only thing not too big was my height, causing me to be slightly too small for everything else.

Oh, how the bullies had a field day with all my weirdness. Needless to say, my school years were a torment for me. I didn’t have any friends because who would want to be friends with the kid everyone picked on. Normal children avoided me like the plague and bullies found me irresistible.

Here I sit, twenty-five years old, writing in my journal on All Hallows’ Eve, instead of out partying with friends. Oh yeah, I have friends now. People I met in college who knew nothing about my crazy mother or the fact my dad had horns. All they know about me was what I told them.

I could have gone to one of their places, hung out, and got drunk tonight. I didn’t feel like it. Halloween is a strange time for me. I always feel restless and nervous as October thirty-first approaches each year, like I’m waiting for something spectacular to happen. Nothing ever has and that’s the story of my life. The only thing that happens is me being tormented by ghosts from the past.

It often seems like the universe is setting me up to be the punch line in some cosmic joke, but it hasn’t seen fit to clue me in yet.
I stop writing and pop another handful of candy corn in my mouth. It’s a dark and stormy evening. No, really it is. A cold front roared in from the north and it’s been raining for most of the day. Just as I notice the lack of wind, a knock on my front door nearly sends me off my bed and into the closet. I haven’t been in the closet since I graduated high school. I’ve no interest in going back in.
“Who’d be out in a night like this?” I mutter as I shove my feet into my Bugs Bunny slippers and trudge down the hall to the front door.
Probably some trick-or-treaters totally ignoring the fact I don’t have my porch light on. There is no way I’m sharing my candy with the bratty neighborhood kids. My hand pauses at the light switch. Christ! Twenty-five and I’m already a curmudgeon. I flip the light on and yank open the door. Whatever I mean to say disappears from my mind as I catch sight of the man standing on my front porch.
Holy honeysuckle, Batman! An angel stands there, soaked and shivering, but trust me when I tell you he is beautiful. Though with my luck, he isn’t one of the heavenly angels. He looks like I’ve always imagined one of the fallen types does. With blue-tinged lips and dripping blond hair, he looks like a five-mile stretch of bad road covered in mud and potholes, yet his underlying hotness shines through.
“Can I come in?” His teeth chatter, and I blink.
It’s the nice thing to do and I know for a fact my neighbors aren’t home, so I can’t even send him to them. With barely disguised annoyance, I step back and gesture for him to step in.
He flows into the front entryway like he owns the place, and somehow his confidence puts me more on edge. I never liked men who ooze arrogance and belonging from every pore. How could he manage it looking like a drowned rat?
“Do you have a towel I could use?”
Damn, caught me daydreaming again. I grit my teeth and nod. “Stay there. I don’t want water and mud all over my floor.”
I stomp to my guest bathroom, which is hard to do in slippers, but I try to get across the fact I’m doing this under duress. I fight the urge to mutter under my breath, another bad habit of mine. I snatch three towels out of the closet and stalk back to him. He’d stayed right where I left him, earning him some points. So many people you invite into your house tend to believe it’s an open invitation to snoop, and trust me, I don’t want anyone wandering around my house unsupervised.
I hand him the first towel before sighing. “Why don’t you go and clean up in the bathroom?”
He glances down at his clothes. “I don’t have any clothes with me to change into.”
“For goodness sakes,” I mutter. “Fine. I probably have some clothes that’ll fit you.”
He eyed me skeptically.
“Trust me. I have some friends about your size and they’ve left clothes here.”
“I’m surprised you have friends.”
The hint of sarcasm in his tone earns him a few more points, and I incline my head slightly, acknowledging his barb. “Well, some people find me tolerable.”
“Sort of like Grumpy in Snow White,” he murmurs.
I shoot him a narrow-eyed glare. “Watch it, sweetheart. Unlike those dwarves, I’ll toss your ass back out in the rain.”
He laughs, seemingly unimpressed by my threat. He heads down the hallway toward the bathroom. I stand there for a moment, admiring his ass, lovingly displayed by those wet jeans. It’s only when he turns and catches me staring that I turn away.
Great, somehow I’ve ended up with a visitor on All Hallows’ Eve, and I hate it. No matter how good-looking the man is, I want him out of my house before midnight strikes. I go to the guest room and dig through the dresser, pulling out sweats, a long sleeve T-shirt and socks. There’s no underwear, so I guess he’ll have to go commando. My cock likes the idea of this man being totally naked under a single layer of clothes. My head tells me to get him out of the house before it’s too late.
The shower turns on, and I open the door, tossing the clothes on the counter. I didn’t look to see if I could make out his silhouette on the shower curtain. That would be bad manners, and while I might be a hermit, I’m not a peeping Tom. I shut the door and turn to frown at the tracks marring my clean floor.
::He can’t be here, Tabor Augustus. You know he needs to leave before the clock hits midnight.::
Nodding, I grasp the urgency of the voice in my head. There are other reasons why I don’t have guests over on Halloween or the night before. Very good reasons why I don’t go out and party with my friends. No one can ever find out what they are because I would find myself in the insane ward at the local hospital.
::You know tonight is ours. Yet there is an intruder. I shall go and scare him away.::
I snap out of my contemplation of the mud on the floor. “No, you won’t bother him. I’ll let him dry off and use the phone. I’m sure he’ll have some friend who can come and get him.”
::He better. This is our time and we’re not going to stop just because you have someone here.::
“Selfish pricks,” I grumble as I kneel to wipe up the mess all the way to the front door. “You can’t even give me one Halloween off.”
::It wasn’t the deal.::
“I don’t know anything about the deal, and since I didn’t make it with you, I shouldn’t have to be the one to suffer because of it.”
I hate the voices in my head. One or two of them I can deal with—and do on a daily basis throughout the year—but as Halloween approaches, they multiple, driving me closer to insanity.
“To whom are you talking?”
Jumping, I squeak and whirl around, landing on my ass in a puddle of muddy water. He stands in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against the frame and smirking down at me. I’d been so caught up in wiping up the floor and arguing with the voices, I didn’t hear the shower shut off or the door open.
“I’m talking to myself.” I climb to my feet and stroll toward my bedroom, trying to keep my dignity, but knowing it’s a losing battle with a soggy ass and bunny slippers.
“You spend too much time alone,” he comments, and I don’t dispute his words.
I shut the door quietly, not slamming it like I really want to. I toss the dirty towels in the laundry basket and soon my pajama pants follow. I pull a pair of jeans out of my closet. No more looking like a teenager. I’m an adult and should be afforded some respect, even if my visitor doesn’t think so. I change out of my Marilyn Monroe T-shirt into a dark blue henley and put on socks instead of slippers. When I finish, I go back out and find my guest standing in the living room, staring at the photographs on the mantel of my fireplace.
At least I didn’t find him in the kitchen or one of the other rooms. The living room is rather bland compared to my office. I step just inside the door. He turns to look at me, and I’m struck by the brilliance of his eyes. They sparkle like the purest sapphire, and I clench my hands to keep from adjusting the erection pressing against my zipper.
“I’m Gautier. Thanks for answering your door. I knocked on some other ones, but I guess no one was home.”
“They’re all gone to Halloween parties.” I struggle with being personable. “I’m T.A. Would you like something to drink?”
“T.A. What does that stand for?” Gautier faces me and raises his eyebrows.
“You can guess if you want, but I won’t be telling you. Do you want something to drink?”
My mother raised me to be polite, though my manners don’t extend to spilling anything about my name.
“Yes, I would. Do you have any hot chocolate? I need something warm to heat me up.” He looks me over from head to toe and winks. “Though I admit you would do nicely if you were so inclined.”
“Does that line usually work on people?” I shake my head and go to the kitchen.
“I don’t usually have to work so hard to get men to fall in bed with me.”
“God save me from a humble man,” I mutter under my breath as I take out the fixings for hot chocolate.
“You’re not going to make me homemade hot cocoa?” The pout in his voice grates on my nerves.
“The way things are going, you’re lucky I don’t toss your ass back out in the middle of this storm.” I fill the teakettle with water and set it on the stove. “The phone is over there. Don’t you need to call someone to come and pick you up?”
“Why would I do that? I’m right where I need to be.”
His enigmatic statement worries me. How could he be right where he needs to be? Not tonight. Not on Halloween eve, and not with me. God, I hope he doesn’t expect me to offer him a bed for the night or even take him to my bed. That isn’t going to happen any time soon.
“I don’t think you need to be here.” My trembling hand clanks the spoon against the mug as I scoop out the cocoa mix.
The warmth from his body sinks in through my skin, and I twitch slightly as I realize he’s standing right behind me. His breath dances along the nape of my neck, and I long to lean back against him. It would be nice to have someone to carry the weight of my troubles for a minute or two, but I know no such man exists.
::You need to get rid of him or I will.::
The threat is enough to drive me away from him. I ease to the side, mourning the absence of his freshly showered scent. He doesn’t say anything, though I feel his amused gaze follow me as I pour the hot water into the mugs. I set his mug on the counter next to him and move away. Not making contact will be best for both of us, since even though I have the most incredible urge to jump him and drag him to my bed, my other visitors remind me of why I can’t do that.
Sitting, Gautier wraps his hands around his mug and takes a sip. I reach for the cordless phone setting on the counter.
“Here. Why don’t you call someone to come and pick you up, so you don’t have to walk in the rain?”
He takes the phone, but doesn’t dial. I want to snatch it from him and smack him with it.
“What is your problem?” I fidget, itching like someone is glaring at me from the corner of the room. My shoulders slowly rise toward my ears as I anticipate the trouble happening if Gautier doesn’t leave soon.
“I don’t know anyone in this town. I just moved here a few days ago.”
“Then what were you doing walking around the neighborhood? Do you even live around here?”
Gautier shakes his head and drops his gaze to the table between us. “No. I actually live on the other side of the town. I went for a walk to check out Main Street and see if I could meet people. Ended up over here and got caught in the storm.”
“So you don’t know anyone here?”
“I know you.” Gautier’s grin flirts with me, but I can’t encourage him.
“I don’t count. I’ll call you a cab.” I grab the phone from him and begin to dial.
He reaches out and lays a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you take me home?”
I shake my head, electric shocks racing over my skin at the warm feel of his fingers and discomfort chasing them at the unfamiliar touch of another man. “My car is in the shop getting work done. Besides, I don’t leave the house on All Hallows’ Eve.”
Tilting his head, he stares at me. “Why not? Afraid you’re going to hit some little kid in a costume? Do all the scary costumes intimidate you?”
I understand he’s teasing me, but I have very little humor when it comes to this particular night. “It has nothing to do with the costumes. I’m not overly fond of children, which is why I chose to stay inside with the lights off tonight.”
::I told you to make him leave.::
Wincing, I close my eyes just as Gautier’s mug lifts from the table.
“Hey, what’s happening?”
An angry gasp alerts me to what might be going on across from me. I peer through my lashes to see hot chocolate dripping from Gautier’s nose. The mug is lying on the floor, empty of its contents.
“You have to leave now.” I push to my feet and yank him to his.
He doesn’t protest as I drag him down the hallway to the front door. He slips his bare feet into his shoes, while I grab a large jacket out of the closet. I toss it at him and open the door. He slips it on and stands, studying me. I shuffle my feet and nod toward the rainy outdoors.
“I’m sorry, but you really need to leave. If you don’t, it’s only going to get worse.”
“I know what’s happening here, Tabor Augustus, and while I’ll leave this time, next time will be a different story.”
His blue eyes gleam with an otherworldly light, and I shiver. How can he know about the spirits haunting me? No one knows about them. Not even my mother, and she’s the reason ghosts torment me all year around, though it gets worse on October thirtyfirst.
“How do you know my full name?” I frown, unease sweeping up my back.
He cups my face in his elegant hands and smiles gently at me. “I know many things about you, T.A. and I’m here to help, if you’ll let me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about and you really need to leave right now.”
The pressure in the house has been building since the hot chocolate incident. My visitors weren’t happy about Gautier’s presence. They want him out, so they can have their way with me.
Shock rips through me as he leans down and brushes a kiss over my lips. No one has kissed me in a very long time. I gasp as he steps back, every instinct in my body yearning to allow him to take me in his arms and kiss me again.
Movement behind Gautier catches my eye, and I wince.
“You can’t help me. Please leave now. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I shove him out the door and lock it after I shut it in his face. I slump against the door, hanging my head with a sigh. My life sucks, and I lay the blame totally on my mother. Oh, I’m not sure the whole spirit thing was her fault, but I’m pretty sure she had something to do with it. I mean, really? She had sex with some strange guy in the woods and somehow I caught all the fallout from it.
::It’s almost time. Go to your bed, Tabor Augustus, and wait for us.::
“Tabor.” Gautier’s voice drifts through the door somehow. “I’ll be back. And those of you who haunt him better be prepared to fight me for him.”
His footsteps echo faintly as he steps off the porch and into the rain. A chilling laugh rings through my house, and it’s time.
After making sure all the lights are off and the doors are locked, I shuffle my way down the hall to my bedroom. I shut and lock that barrier as well, conscious I need to insure no one can get to me before sunrise tomorrow.
I climb under the covers after stripping off my clothes and lie staring up at the ceiling. In my nakedness, I shiver, exposed to all the elements around me, along with all the energy building from the universe beyond my sight. I want to close my eyes, but my experience tells me it wouldn’t matter.
The spirits seep from under my bed, released from a box I’m forced to carry with me everywhere I move. I tried leaving it behind when I went to college, but my mother sent it to me, claiming I told her I needed it. It must be stored under my bed as well. My life goes to hell if I try keeping it somewhere else.
Shadows undulate from the corners of my room and chills creep along my fingers and toes. They are stealing my energy and my life force. Each one gets enough to manifest for a few minutes, whether to see loved ones or frighten others, I don’t know. I’ve never asked them what they do with what they take from me. I doubt they would tell me anyway.
I’m merely a vessel for them. Since I don’t believe my mother or father had anything to do with the ghosts torturing me, I have no idea how it happened. Yet I hate whoever cursed me with this and I’ve tried to break it, but to no avail.
Drifting as the spirits tempt me with dark thoughts, I focus on Gautier, trying not to fall into the abyss where I’m so often dragged during these moments. The bright blue of his eyes teases me in flashes, along with images of his smile. I struggle not to let go of all of me, but it’s difficult.
::No. We aren’t going to let you go.::
The pressure grows stronger after the statement echoes through my head. One of the reasons I have no serious relationship or friends in my life is because the ghosts won’t let me. They claim all of me and allow no other ties to me.
Tears form at the corners of my eyes and I grip the sheets as the pain builds. Soon blackness swallows my mind and I lose myself in the swirling, orbiting lights. No point in trying to fight or struggle anymore. They always win, and I always lose a piece of myself each time they do this.

* * *

I pry my eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. Blinking, I focus on the black concentric circles I painted above my bed when I first moved in. The continuous lines help me find my way back from wherever they drag me. Soon, I begin to feel my fingers and toes as the chill burns off them. My heartbeat speeds up until it’s practically beating out of my chest.

My lungs fill with air and I’m panting as fear rockets through me again. No matter how many times they do this to me, I never get used to it and I’m afraid some day I won’t wake up. I’ll be lost forever in the void. They’ll have somehow taken every atom and life force in me to create their own world.

Time means nothing when the spirits have me in their grip, so I’m unsure how long I’ve been gone this time. When strength returns to my muscles, I roll my head to the side and glance at my clock. I can see the faintest hint of light peeking around the window blinds. It’s early evening on All Saint’s Day and I’ve survived another Halloween. I slept most of the day away.

Creaking like I’m eighty instead of twenty-five, I climb out of bed and stumble to my bathroom. After a warm shower, I dress in comfy clothes and make my way to the kitchen. No one will stop by today. While I have friends now, they aren’t close ones and they give me warning before they show up on my doorstep.

I start the coffee brewing and throw some bread in the toaster. In a few minutes, I have coffee and toast, my usual breakfast. I settle at the table, contemplating what to do the rest of the day. Any thought of Gautier floats through my mind like a dream from the night before. An interesting dream, but not real nonetheless.

A wet and bedraggled angel showing up on my porch would never have happened. Maybe I fell asleep last night before the spirits came and imagined his presence in my house. Yet when I think of men, they aren’t usually blond and beautiful. They are ordinary like me.

Loud knocking on my front door distracts me from my thoughts.

CHAPTER 2

Pushing to my feet, I shuffle my way down the hall toward the front of the house. I stop at the open guest bathroom door and study the towels folded on the counter. I don’t remember having put towels in the room since no one ever comes to visit or stay. I reach out and touch the top one. It’s damp and the image of handing a dripping Gautier the towel last night races through my head.

Shit. Maybe it is true. Maybe Gautier is real and he did know about the ghosts who haunt me. At least, he seemed to know.
Another knock and I’m pulled from my intense deliberations of last night’s events. Someone calls my name, dragging me closer to the door. It’s not a voice I recognize and I wonder who would dare visit me today of all days.
“T.A., you better answer this door right now, or I’m going to break it down.”
::Don’t answer.::
I twitch as the head ghost commands me. Does he really think I’ll obey now that his power has waned? The spirits are the weakest on All Saint’s Day, and I can live my life without interference, for a short time anyway.
“Tabor Augustus, I know you’re in there. I need to make sure you’re all right.”
Only Gautier, a stranger, would dare call me that, for even my closest friends never guessed or learned my name. I stalk to the door and jerk it open, just as he raises his hand to knock again.
Holy smokes! The man looks like heaven when he’s dry. Dressed in tight faded jeans, a white T-shirt, and motorcycle boots, Gautier is a temptation for every living, breathing creature in the world. No one would be able to pass the man up, even if they were straight and had never looked at the same sex before.
“What the hell is your problem?” I glare up at him, forgetting how tall he is compared to me. “Maybe the reason you don’t have friends is because you irritate them like this.”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He doesn’t wait for me to ask him to come in.
He steps forward, forcing me to give ground. Usually I’d shove him out of my house, but for some reason, I yield. He strolls down the hall to the kitchen. I stumble behind him, opening and closing my mouth as I work out what to say to him.
“Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”
After pouring his own mug of coffee, Gautier sits at the table. He wraps his hands around the ceramic, holding it close and breathing in the steam. I stare at him from where I stand in the doorway. I fidget with the strings of my pajama pants and bite my lip, confounded by Gautier simply ignoring my question.
Finally, I snatch up my cup, pour out the cold liquid and refill it. I pour sugar and creamer in, stirring furiously as I glare at him. He continues to ignore me, and I wrinkle my nose, sitting across from him.
“Why wouldn’t I be all right?” I decide to force the issue. Gautier will answer me if I have to ask the question over and over until he acknowledges me.
His gaze meets mine, and I’m stunned by the darkness marring the blue of his eyes. I reach out, wanting to comfort him, even though I don’t know him or why he makes me feel like this.
Gautier’s mug slides off the table and into his lap. He jumps to his feet, swearing and swatting at the wet stain. “Shit. You know this isn’t going to make me leave. In fact, you’ve just given me a reason to stay longer.”
I frown. “Who are you talking to? I didn’t do that to you.”
“I know that.” Gautier glances at me. “I’m going to need another pair of pants and I want to wash these.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Really? You expect me to offer up clothes and the use of my washing machine to some stranger I just met last night. Also, you seem to think there’s something going on that isn’t happening.”
He grabs my arms and lifts me from the chair to shake me slightly. Stunned, I blink at him. No one has ever manhandled me since I was in high school and picked on by bullies. Yet his grip isn’t bruising or anything. He simply seems to want to get my attention.
My attention drops from his eyes to his mouth. Those plump lips move, but I lose track of what he’s saying. Desire to feel those lips on mine races through me and my pants begin to tent as my cock stiffens. He stops and looks down between us. A blush heats my face and I tug, trying to get away, but Gautier doesn’t let me.
He pulls me closer and lowers his head. I tilt up, offering myself like a willing sacrifice. Our lips meet and time stands still. I realize it’s silly to think in such a cliché, but it’s what happens. For the first time in my life, I lose myself in another man.
Our tongues stroke and play with each other, teasing and promising more intimate things to come. I entwine my fingers in Gautier’s curls, tugging him closer. His hands slip down my back to cup my ass and squeeze.
“Oh.” I moan into his mouth.
The kiss goes deeper and hotter. I press my groin into his and gasp as my pants soak up some of the wetness from Gautier’s jeans. The air around us chills, and I shiver. The crash behind us makes me jerk away from him. Turning, I spy one of our mugs shattered on the floor.
“They don’t want you to be happy,” Gautier murmurs.
I stiffen and step away from him. What had I been thinking? I don’t know this man. I’m not the type of guy who kisses strangers, even gorgeous ones who make me think of hot, sweaty sex. When I go to the clubs, I rarely go home with anyone. I’m not promiscuous or slutty. Yet here I am, standing in my pajamas, kissing a man I met the night before.
Should I thank the ghosts for bringing me to my senses? Or should I be angry at their interference again? Is my life always going to be ruled by dead people?
Hating myself for my lapse of control, I gesture toward the hallway. “You know where the bathroom is. I’ll try to find another pair of sweats for you. We can toss your jeans in the wash when you’re out of them.”
“Nice of you to do it.”
I shrug. “Guess it’s only right since it seems to be my fault you’re wearing your coffee.”
He goes to the bathroom, and I dig out sweats for him. I hang them on the doorknob before returning to the kitchen and cleaning up the mess.
“Why did you do that to him? He’s not hurting anything,” I mutter under my breath.
::He’s dangerous.::
“Dangerous? To whom? You or me? I’ve never known you to be concerned with my welfare before, but I guess if I’m gone, you won’t have anyone to torment.”
::We protect what’s ours.::
“I’m not a piece of land you can fight over. I’m a human with a life and maybe I’m tired of being lonely.”
“You’re not alone anymore.”
I squeak and whirl as Gautier speaks behind me. Pressing my hand to my chest, I stare at him. I really need to break the habit of talking out loud because at some point, I’ll be doing it in the grocery store, and people will be looking at me like I’m crazy. Gautier doesn’t seem to think I’m insane. He even acts like he knows what’s going on with me, which, of course, could mean he’s crazy as well.
“As I said before, I’m here to help you. I know what’s happening to you.”
For some reason, I didn’t want to discuss it in the house. “Maybe we should go get something to eat. Also, I’d like more coffee, but I’m all out at the moment.”
He gets the hint and nods. “Sounds like a good idea to me.” He waves a hand down at the sweats he wears. “You don’t mind going out with me dressed like this?”
I laugh. “Dude, the only thing they’re going to notice is how good your ass looks in those.”
“How do you know my ass looks good?” He winks.
“I might’ve caught a glimpse or two last night.” I try to act blasé about the whole thing.
“Ah.” He smiles. “Why don’t you go change while I finish cleaning up in here?”
Retreating sounds like the best idea at the moment. I toss him the rag and scurry to my room. The bastard might look good in sweats, but it’s not a look I can pull off. I dig out my favorite pair of jeans and a long-sleeved Henley. I dress as quickly as I can since I don’t trust the spirits who reside with me. I finish tying my shoes before grabbing my keys and wallet from the dresser.
“Gautier, I’m ready to go,” I call as I leave my room.
No noise comes from the kitchen. I wander back in to see where he might have gone. Horror ripples through me when I spot him kneeling in the middle of the floor, hands tight around his throat and a wild-eyed look of desperation in his eyes.
“Oh hell, no,” I shout, racing toward him. I fight with all my strength to pry his fingers off his neck. I know he’s not doing it on purpose. Our breath is visible in the room as the temperature drops.
“You don’t get to do this. Not to him or anyone else. If you don’t stop this instant, I’ll take the box out back and burn it, consequences be damned.”
I swear icicles threaten to form in the room as it grows colder. I brace myself because I know the spirits are preparing to express their displeasure in a physical way. Yet I’m not going to turn my back on Gautier. Whoever the man is, he doesn’t deserve to be punished because of my twisted life.
He manages to catch my gaze and he mouths, My wallet.
I follow the direction he looks and see his wallet sitting on the counter. Confused as to why he wants it, I grab it. I’m sure he has his reasons. He gestures with his elbow to open it. His hands tighten and his eyes widen in panic.
After flipping open the wallet, I go over it with a glance and can’t see anything that might help him with the problem choking him to death. I hold it up, and he points to one of the cards in the plastic photo sleeves. I jerk it out and drop the rest on the floor.
“Read it,” he chokes out.
Now I’m reciting poetry or something. I shake my head. “Shouldn’t I be trying to get your hands away from your throat?”
He glares at me and grunts. I take the noise as a “just do it” type of grunt.
“Okay. Fine.”
I bring the card closer to my face and read aloud the words typed there.
“You have no power over me as you are no longer of this world. You can’t harm me because you are dead and I’m alive. With my belief in light, I won’t allow the darkness to touch me any longer.”
I lift my gaze slightly to see Gautier’s knuckles aren’t quite as white as they had been. I continue with the reading. “I command you to leave me alone. As long as I believe, you have no recourse except to leave and never attempt to harm me again.”
Suddenly the room warms, and Gautier’s hands drop from his throat. He leans over, coughing and gagging as he breathes fresh air into his lungs. I stand, amazed his little incantation on a plastic card worked.
“How did you get it to work? Are they completely gone?” A cupboard door slams open and shut, filling me with disappointment. “Apparently not.”
Gautier shakes his head as he rubs his neck. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t work for anyone else except me.”
So many questions I wish to ask, but I don’t want to risk the spirits gearing up for something even worse than making Gautier try to choke himself.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I help him to his feet, and we stumble out the front door. As the door shuts behind us, I hear another crash in the kitchen. Something tells me I won’t have many dishes left when I get home. Oh well, I need new ones anyway.
“I’ll drive.” Gautier leads the way to his beat-up Camry.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” I ask, not convinced he’s regained the proper oxygen levels yet.
“Yes. I’m fine.” He unlocks the door for me and opens it before running around the front of the car.
We’re in and pulling out of the driveway before I even think to ask about where we’re going.
“To my place.” He shoots me a quick look, as if he knows I’m about to protest. “What I have to tell you shouldn’t be said in public. Not if you don’t want people to label you the neighborhood crazy man.”
I roll my eyes. “Most of the kids in the neighborhood already call me that.”
“And that’s sad when you’re only twenty-five. You’ve got at least forty more years before you can become a grumpy old man.” He chuckles.
“I think I’m already there…no waiting for another couple of decades.” I stare out my window as we drive through town. “I’ve always been older than my years.”
“All of those haunted by the dead are.”
Twisting in my seat, I look at his profile. He wears an expression I recognize because I’ve seen it when I look in the mirror at times. Gautier does know what is going on with me. Excitement skates through me. Maybe he can help me get rid of those spirits stealing precious life from me.
“How do you know I’m being haunted by anything?”
He shoots me an incredulous glance. “You’re kidding, right? I didn’t choke myself just to get your sympathy. Something took over my body and tried to hurt me.”
“Maybe you just imagined it.” Okay, so I realize it’s stupid to be arguing with him when he’s right. Plus he has a spell to keep them from hurting him. “How did you know I was being used as a ghost hotel?”
“I know the signs and I’d like to help you free yourself from their grip.” He pulls into the driveway of a small ranch-style house. The front walk leads up to the door, and though there are no longer any flowers, the lawn and flowerbeds look well maintained.
“Did you buy this place or are you renting it?”
“Just renting right now. I’m not sure if I’ll be staying or not.” He turns off the car and climbs out.
I follow him up to the house and nod. “I guess it depends on work, huh? What do you do?”
“I counsel people, mostly teenagers at the moment, but I’ve been known to help adults from time to time.” He unlocks the door and pushes it open, gesturing for me to step in. “Welcome to my house.”
Stepping in, I notice the small burst of cool air greeting me, but I discount it as air conditioning. It’s still a little on the warm side, especially for November. Gautier shuts the door behind us and drops his keys on the small table in the foyer. He takes my elbow in his hand and encourages me to move toward the back of the house.
“You’re probably hungry. I know I am and I’ve got some meatloaf we can reheat. Might not be quite as good as when it’s fresh, but I’m not in the mood to make anything right now.”
“Meatloaf’s fine with me.”
Considering I rarely cook anything for myself, a home-cooked meal did sound good, even if it was a day old. I sit at the oak dining table Gautier points to and watch while he bustles around the kitchen, gathering everything he needs to feed us.
In a few minutes, he has everything heated and on the table. I sip the water he brought me during one of his fly-bys as he makes sure I’m taken care of.
“So what do you do?” He smiles at me as he sits and waves a hand in the direction of my plate. “Eat before it gets cold.”
I’m not sure there’s any danger of it going cold. After the first bite, I inhale it without pause. It’s the best food I’ve had in a long time.
Setting his fork down, Gautier leans back in his chair and looks at me. He’s not as hungry as I am. More than likely because he hasn’t spent last night being drained by ghosts, so they could wander the earth in some more solid form. I never know where they go or even if they leave the house. Maybe my visitors just dance naked around the place, since I’m unconscious while they’re doing whatever they do.
“What do you do?”
I slow down a little and swallow. “I design video games.” “Really? What kind?” He sounds excited.
“All sorts. First-person shooters and sports games. Anything that needs to be created. I tend to work from home, though I do go in to the office when they need to see me face-to-face.”
“That has to be the best job ever.” He chuckles as he stands. “Would you like some more?”
I shake my head and cover my mouth as I burp. “I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a while. Ate more than I probably should have.”
We clean off the table and rinse the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. He pours us glasses of whiskey and we move to the living room. I flop down onto the couch, not sure if Gautier will sit next to me or if he’ll sit in the chair to the left of the couch. He sits next to me, our thighs touching, and heat swirls in me to pool in my groin.
My cock swells and presses against the zipper of my jeans. It’s been several months since I’ve been attracted to any man as much as I am to Gautier. I lean into his body, and he coughs like I surprise him. I take his glass from him and set it on the coffee table beside mine.
What the hell am I doing? All my insecurities scream at me not to move toward him. A man like him would never want a guy like me. Yet something else is drawing me closer to him. It’s like I’m a moth, and he’s a brightly burning flame. It might mean my death, figuratively, but I can’t resist kissing him.
The minute our mouths touch, he moans and turns toward me, his arm encircling my waist. He pulls me tight to his chest, and I’m dancing inside like a Pentecostal talking in tongues. I slide my hands into the blonde curls at the nape of his neck. I hold him still as I take his mouth like I’m invading a foreign country.
I taste the spice of the meatloaf and the burn of the whiskey as I run my tongue over his teeth. We duel and tease each other and only when my lungs burn for oxygen do I break away from him. We smile as I realize I’m straddling his legs. Our erections rub each other, and I’m hoping Gautier’s thinking what I’m thinking.
“Why don’t we take this to the bedroom?”
Oh hell, yes. I bounce to my feet and grab his hand, jerking him to his feet. He laughs as I push him down the hall toward his room, or at least I hope it’s his. I figure he won’t steer me wrong if he wants what I do, which is the two of us in the bed naked.
We enter the room, and he shuts the door behind us. I don’t care how the place is decorated or whether it’s clean or not. All I care about is how long it’ll take us to get in bed and Gautier to get inside me. I start unbuttoning my shirt, and he blushes.
I pause to ask, “You have slept with a man before, haven’t you?”
“Oh yes. I’m not a virgin,” he rushes to reassure me, and I smile.
“Good because while I’d be totally turned on if you were, I’m not sure how slow I can go our first time and I don’t want to freak you out.”
“Do you like to give or receive?” He seems so formal as he asks.
I leer at him and tug off my shirt, letting it drop to the floor at our feet. “It’s all good to me. I think I’d like to have you fuck me first. Then maybe next time I can take you.”
“Uh,” he stammers like I surprise him.
“Are you okay with that?”
Maybe this is a one-time thing with him. Maybe after we fuck, he’ll pack me up in his car and drive me home without worrying about the beings waiting there for me. He nods and hurriedly tears off his clothes. I’m right behind him, and soon we’re both naked. Gautier studies me, making me nervous as his gaze trails over my body.
Does he like what he’s looking at? I’m rarely worried about how my body looks. Maybe it’s because I don’t go out on dates very often or even hang out with friends. It’s simply easier to be alone than try to explain about the cold spots and noises in my house or apologizing for unseen beings attacking people.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers.
I blush and shake my head. Gautier’s nice. I’ve never been gorgeous or hot in my life. I grew into my features in college, but still I didn’t become a male model or anything like that. Once I accepted I would never be drop-dead hot, I learned not to worry overly much about how I look. As long as I don’t dress like a homeless person, I don’t mind.
He walks toward me, his hand held out, and I take it, letting him lead me to the bed. After sitting on its edge, I spread my legs and pull Gautier between them, resting my hands on his hips. He smiles down at me, and I wink before I lick his erection from base to head. Gautier gasps as he trembles.
“You like that, huh?”
Nodding, he runs his fingers through my hair, seeming at a loss for words. I don’t mind because I’m not a particularly vocal lover. I like to focus on the man in bed with me without having to think about what I say. Speaking of focusing, I turn my attention back to the leaking cock in front of me.
It’s a little thicker than mine, but we’re about the same length. My hole flutters at the thought of having him breaching it soon. I wrap one hand around Gautier’s shaft, while cupping his balls and rolling them in my other hand.
His grip tightens on my hair, making me wince slightly, but it doesn’t stop me from bringing my mouth to his cock and sucking on just the head. I swirl my spit around his heated flesh, bathing it while I press the tip of my tongue into the slit, his pre-cum coating my mouth. Tremors rock his body, and I pull off to look up at him.
“You can fuck my face. I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
I tilt my head and study him. “Have you ever gotten a blowjob before?”
Gautier shakes his head and drops his gaze. “No. It’s mostly been just hand jobs and a quick fuck in the alley or a bathroom.”
“How long have you been out?” I’m curious, but it doesn’t stop me from slowly jacking him off. I want him to stay hard.
“A little over a year, I guess.”
“What the hell did you do before that? Didn’t you realize you were gay?” I frown. How could any gay man go most of his adult life without getting a blowjob? “Have you given a blowjob before?”
“Ummm…yes.” He tugs away from me and searches through his nightstand. “Here.”
Turning back to me, he holds up a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. I take them from him and toss them on the bed. Crooking my finger at him, I climb on the mattress, moving as enticingly as I can to draw him with me. Gautier crawls onto the bed, crouching over me with a shy but sexy gleam in his eyes. He leans in and kisses me, taking my breath away with one swipe of his tongue across my lips.
I open to him, allowing him to do as he pleases with me. Hopefully, that means he’ll take some lube and start stretching my ass because I’m really wanting him to fuck me. Gautier encircles my wrists with his hands and presses them to the blankets over my head. I arch into him, rubbing my cock against his, leaving a trail of pre-cum over his stomach.
“What do you want, Tabor? What do you want me to do to you?” he whispers against my lips.
“Please, fuck me,” I beg. Yeah, I’m not proud when it comes to sex. I’m not embarrassed to say what I want, especially if it results in some hot guy sliding his cock into my ass.
“Okay. Why don’t you get yourself ready while I put the condom on?”
He lets go of my hands and shoves the lube into them. After popping the top, I squirt some onto my fingers, rubbing them together to slick up before reaching around and pressing two of them into my butt. The burn makes me groan, but I don’t stop. No point in worrying about it when his cock is thicker than three of my fingers combined.
“Take it easy, honey. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He places a hand over mine.
I roll my head from side to side. “No. I need you in me right now. It’s been a while for me and I’ve been thinking about your dick in my ass since the moment I saw you standing on my front porch.”
“You like that drowned rat look, huh?”
Prying open my eyes, I look at him as he chuckles. Who knew he’d be someone who can joke while having sex? Makes him more attractive.
“I must.” I shove a third finger in and my hips come off the bed. “Holy shit! This feels great, but it’s nothing compared to how I’m going to feel when you get off your lazy ass and take me.”
“You’re pretty demanding,” he acknowledges as he settles between my thighs and puts my legs over his arms.
I grunt when the head of his cock caresses my opening before pushing in until he’s buried to the root inside me. I wince, and he freezes, worry on his face. I trace the curve of his cheek and the slope of his nose.
“Did I hurt you?”
Shaking my head, I smile. “No. I’m good. Just give me a second.”
We hold our positions for a few seconds while I relax my muscles, accepting his fullness in a way I hadn’t done before. I angle my hips and give him a nod.
“You can move now.”
He stares at me like he’s unsure I’m telling the truth, but I roll my lower half, rocking against him in a very obvious attempt to turn him on. His bright smile shines and he begins to move, slow and steady to start with. As the pleasure builds and my need pools in my spine, our rhythm speeds up, until only harsh breathing fills the air along with the scent of sex and sweat.
I brace my hands against the headboard as he gains strength and each stroke threatens to send me head first into the wall. My cock swells and all the blood pooled there beats steadily to the pulse of my heart. He props himself up on his arms, hanging over me with his eyes scrunched up in a painful mask as he comes.
“Shit,” he shouts, filling the condom with his cum.
At the first thought of him coming, I climax, spilling my seed over my stomach and his abs. In the aftershocks of our mutual orgasms, I stare up at him. Even debauched and stinking of sex, he looks like an angel. How is that possible? How can anyone look so innocent and sweet after having fucked another man? I’m amazed.
Gautier rolls to the side, and I moan as his softened cock slides from me. He climbs to his feet and staggers to the bathroom. At least I assume that’s where he goes when he disappears for several minutes. He returns, clean, and carrying a washcloth that he uses to wipe up the mess I made of myself.
When he finishes, he leaves again, and I curl on my side, staring at the room around me. Somehow, Gautier has less stuff than I do. There are no photos or pictures hanging on the walls. All his clothes are neatly put away in the closet and dresser. The only thing is a beat-up Bible by his bed, the sight of which is making me a little uneasy.
It’s not that I don’t believe in God or anything as concrete as that. I’ve just been haunted by spirits I’ve been told shouldn’t be there by priests I’ve consulted. Not one of them believed me and they all thought I was crazy. While I might have some mental issues, being completely insane isn’t one of them. Just the thought of God existing wigs me out a little. Why would such a loving Higher Power create someone like me, then tell his followers to hate me? Seems cruel and twisted to me. It’s always been a conundrum for me. Along with the fact I’m much better at believing in things I can see.
Then why do I believe in ghosts? Because I’ve been dealing with them since I was ten and got the stupid box holding them. I fight the urge to reach out and run my fingers over the cracked leather cover of the Bible. What do I think I’ll absorb from it? Some way to keep myself safe from the anonymous bullies running my life?
Gautier comes back and slides under the covers to spoon with me. I sigh silently as his arm rests on my waist with his hand pressed over my heart. He kisses my shoulder.
“Why do you believe me about my ghosts?” I finally ask the question burning in my mind.
“I believe you because I’m being haunted by a spirit as well. Only mine doesn’t seem quite as violent as yours.”
“Really? Why didn’t you say anything when you showed up on my doorstep yesterday?” I start to roll over, but he stops me.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure we need to discuss it tonight. Why don’t you go to sleep? I’m sure you’re probably pretty tired from last night and all our extra-curricular activities earlier.” His warm breath bathes my ear, and I shiver.
“You’re right,” I murmur.
“We’ll talk about everything tomorrow.” He snuggles closer to me.
I let my mind drift as I think about the fact this is the first time in over a year I’ve shared a bed with anyone. I’m not a monk, but I don’t like to sleep in strange beds. I can’t invite my lovers home to my house. Usually this is where I sneak out after they’ve fallen asleep. Yet something in my soul won’t let me leave.

CHAPTER 3

We climb out of the car in front of the diner, and I glance over at Gautier. His bright smile helps reassure me I didn’t screw up by letting him fuck me last night. Yet just because his happiness touches me deeply doesn’t mean it’ll end up being a good thing for either of us. I blink as we walk in and someone squeals.

One of the waitresses rushes us, and I step back out of the way to avoid her running me over as she hurtles herself at Gautier. He catches her with a grunt, but hugs her back.

“Father Molyneux, it’s so good to have you back. Are you officiating at St. Joseph’s again?”
My mouth drops open and I stagger, stunned by the knowledge I’d slept with a priest. I have a list of reasons why I’m going to hell and now last night’s experience goes right to the top.
“You’re a fucking priest?”
The waitress turns to glare at me. “You shouldn’t use that language around Father Molyneux.”
I choke. “I shouldn’t use foul language around him? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
All the words I want to say crowd together and paralyze my tongue, which is something that hasn’t happened to me before. I open my mouth, and nothing comes out. I can’t think of anything to do except whirl around and stomp from the restaurant. I’m not sure how far away I get, though I don’t head for Gautier’s car. I’d wear holes in my shoes before I accept another ride from the lying bastard.
“T.A., wait. Don’t walk away from me. You need my help.”
I don’t wait for him to lay a hand on me. I whip around and shove my finger in his chest. “I need you? Don’t walk away from you? You don’t get to order me around.”
He winces as my finger digs into his chest. “Okay, I could’ve phrased it better, but still, you do need my help if you want to get rid of the ghosts haunting you.”
“You’re a fucking priest. A priest fucked me last night.” I slap my hand against my forehead.
“You really do need to watch your language, honey. We’re out in public now.” Gautier folds his arms over his chest and stares at me.
“Oh no, you didn’t just castigate me on swearing. How dare you call me honey? You’re a fucking priest, Gautier. Didn’t you think that was something I should’ve known before you shoved your dick up my ass?”
“T.A. shut the hell up and follow me. We aren’t having this conversation out in public.” Gautier spins around and heads back toward his car.
I pause for a second before, with an exasperated grunt, I chase after him, my curiosity getting the best of me. I need to know why he never mentioned he’s a priest and why he took me to his bed. I hate the idea I might have corrupted a man of the cloth, even if I don’t believe in organized religion.
“Shit. This is terrible. I think this is worse than me being haunted by ghosts. At least, I could convince myself I’m crazy to imagine them, but I can’t forget I saw you naked,” I mumble as I climb in the car next to him.
“Are you saying seeing me naked traumatized you so much?” Gautier shoots me a look.
I see the twinkle in his eyes and know he’s teasing me, but I’m still not happy with him.
“I’m not saying anything because I don’t want to encourage you. You’re going to explain why you didn’t mention your career choice, right?” I twist in my seat to look at him.
He nods, but keeps quiet. I focus on his hands gripping the steering wheel as he drives and my mind races back to last night. The way he touched me. The feel of his skin against mine. I shift uncomfortably as my cock stiffens to press against my zipper. I frown, not happy about the desire dancing through me.
I’m not about to tell Father Molyneux how much I’d like to have a repeat performance. Even if my lips yearn to touch his again, I can’t give in to the temptation. Yes, I’ve accepted the fact if there’s a hell, I’m more than likely going there, but I don’t want to pour gasoline on the flames burning my feet.
“We’re here. Let’s go inside and talk.”
Gautier puts the car in park and turns it off. I heave a silent sigh, but climb out. Who the hell am I trying to kid? I don’t care that he’s a priest. He’s an adult and could have told me at any point last night about his job and the vows he took. There was a large amount of time when we weren’t in bed together or on the couch making out.
We enter his house, and I head straight to the couch, dropping onto the cushions and setting my head back to look up at the ceiling.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Isn’t it a little early in the morning for alcohol?” I roll my head to the side and eye him.
He checks his watch. “It’s noon, so that’s close enough for me.”
Gautier isn’t going to get any argument from me. “Okay. I’m game for a drink.”
I strip off my jacket and toss it in the armchair across from me. After kicking off my shoes, I curl my legs under me and wedge myself in the corner of the couch. I wince at the soreness in my ass, causing some guilt to flare in me.
“Here’s a beer.”
Gautier holds out a bottle, and I take it. He sits close enough to me for me to feel the heat from his body as I fight the urge to lean into his embrace. Now isn’t the time to seek comfort. I take a swig from the bottle before looking at him.
“So spill it. Why didn’t you tell me you were a priest? Don’t you think that should’ve been the first thing you told me?” I nudge his hip with my knee.
He plucks at the label of the bottle and stares down at the floor for a moment. Is he ever going to say anything or should I start making shit up to make myself feel better?
“Okay. We’ll do this one question at a time. Are you really a priest?”
“Yes.”
I rear back, but he shakes his head and holds up his hand. “I mean no.”
“Yes or no? This is a simple question, Gautier. Not complicated at all.” I poke him in the arm. “Just tell me the truth.”
“I used to be a priest and I officiated here in town at St. Joseph’s Church.”
“You used to be a priest?” I blink. “I guess I didn’t know you could stop being one.”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t something I particularly wanted to do. I was happy being a priest. I enjoyed evangelizing to the congregation and helping them when they needed advice or something.”
“If you enjoyed yourself so much, why did you choose to leave? Why did you choose to be a priest in the first place?” I admit I’m confused why anyone would choose to be celibate and everything else a priest has to be.
He leans back against the cushions, resting one hand on my knee. I’m not sure if he realizes what he’s doing or if it’s an unconscious move for him. I’m not going to bring his attention to it. I enjoy the feel of his touch on my leg. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone touch me with such familiarity.
“My parents were devout Catholics while I was growing up. I learned to love the church and all of its teachings. I was the youngest boy, and my mother really wanted one of her sons to go into the priesthood. I thought I was called to serve God.”
“But you’re gay. Didn’t that make your decision difficult? I would think it would be a hard profession to choose, even if you were straight. Going without sex your entire life is a huge sacrifice.” I shake my head at the willpower it must take to deny oneself what the body craves. Definitely something I don’t have.
“By the time I truly figured out I was gay, I’d already taken my vows. I thought it wouldn’t matter and for several years it didn’t.” He rubs his hand over my knee, and my cock hardens.
Not the time for this. I frown down at my groin. Hardly appropriate behavior around a priest. Wait. He did say former priest. Something in my head latches on to those words.
“What happened? Did you meet some guy and fall madly in lust with him?” I leer at Gautier, but he’s not looking at me. He’s still staring at the ceiling.
He snorts. “Nothing that dramatic. I simply started thinking and then the episode with the ghost happened. I was being haunted by a spirit and that shook my faith.”
“Why would it?”
Gautier looks at me with a puzzled frown.
“Why would being haunted by a spirit throw you for a loop? I mean, dude, you believe we have a soul, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why can’t some souls stick around after their bodies die? What makes that so odd to imagine?”
Gautier returns his gaze above us. “Not sure why, but it was odd for me. I guess I always believed the good souls went to heaven, and the entities that haunt people were evil demonic spirits.”
I drink some more of my beer before saying, “There’s not a lot of gray in your world, is there? Everything’s pretty black and white with you.”
“Not any more. I learned about gray while dealing with the spirits and coming to terms with my being gay.”
“So when did you stop being a priest?”
He squeezes my knee. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop being a priest. It’s so deeply ingrained in my psyche. I’ll always believe in God.”
“Well, good for you. It’s hard to walk away from a lifetime of doing something.” I set my empty bottle on the floor next to the couch. “When did you officially become a former priest?”
Surprise rushes through me as he sets his bottle beside mine and reaches out to wrap his arm around my shoulders. Gautier tugs me into his embrace, holding me close in the same way he did last night after we recovered from the sex.
I inhale his intriguing scent, a mixture of cinnamon and clove. Even though I’m still wigged out by the fact he used to be a priest, something inside my heart settles as Gautier pulls me closer.
“A year ago. I officiated at St. Joseph’s here in town for five years and enjoyed it. I loved my congregation and all the issues that came with that. The ghost haunting me used to be one of my regulars, but he died. No one ever said how he died. The family kept quiet about it.”
I can hear the frown in his voice.
“Do you think he committed suicide and they just didn’t want to say anything because he couldn’t be buried in sanctified ground if he did?”
“I’m not sure how much that rule is enforced these days, but it wouldn’t have mattered to me. I still would’ve performed the service and everything for them. Yet to this day, I don’t know what happened to him.”
“And he’s the one who haunted you until you figured out how to make him leave you alone.”
“Yes.” He sighs and touches the cross hanging around his neck. “I never believed his spirit was evil, just looking for something. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help him find it.”
I stiffen slightly. “Do you think he’s hanging around here? Like listening and watching us? You might have got him to leave you alone, but you didn’t get him to go to the other side, did you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t feel his presence, not like I can feel your ghosts, but you’re right. It doesn’t mean he’s not around here somewhere.”
Shivers cascade down my back as icy spots appear on my skin. The hair stands up on my arms and I swear softly.
“I shouldn’t have acknowledged him,” I mutter.
Gautier runs his hands over my arms, trying to warm me as the temperature continues to drop around us. Shit! When will I learn to keep my mouth shut? Apparently, mentioning the ghost draws his attention to me, and I know what that means. He’ll be trying to use my energy to manifest in some way.
I snuggle closer to Gautier, absorbing his heat and longing for a normal life.
::Yes…::
Ducking my head into his shoulder, I choose to ignore the whispered words swirling around us. I focus on the rumble coming from Gautier’s chest and I realize he’s talking, but to whom? I’m not sure he’s saying anything I want to hear. Maybe he’s having a discussion with the spirit hanging around the room. I don’t care and can’t seem to gather the energy to ask.
Blackness dances around the edges of my vision. Closing my eyes, I grip Gautier, needing the solidity of his body to remind me of my reality. It would be too easy to slip under and let the ghost have his way with me.
“Let go, Tabor Augustus. I’m here and I won’t let you drift away. We’ll get rid of this entity once and for all. He needs to speak through you right now, though.”
Gautier’s voice drips into my ear one word at a time. I sense his excitement to have the opportunity to speak to the soul hanging around his house. Yet I’m not thrilled at being used as the gobetween for them. How would he feel if I brought him to my house and let the annoying hangers-on there suck him dry so I could talk to them?
After pulling away from him, I struggle to my feet and stumble toward the door.
“Wait…where are you going?” Gautier jumps up and follows me. He encircles my wrist with his fingers, easing me to a halt in front of the door.
I brace one hand against the wall, fighting the need to sink to the floor and curl up in a ball. “How would you feel if I brought you to my house and used you to have a discussion with the jerks following me around?”
“But I didn’t plan on it happening,” he protests, yet there is enough hesitation in his voice to make me wonder if he’s hedging the truth a little.
“How long did you follow me around before you approached me?” I lean one shoulder into the wall, not even trying to remove my arm from Gautier’s grip. Slowly, as I grow colder and weaker, I slide down to sit on the floor, knees drawn up to rest my chin on.
Gautier releases my arm, ensuring he doesn’t end up next to me. I stare at his feet encased in white socks. I snort as I study the pristine perfection of the fabric. Of course, his would look brand new, while mine have holes in them.
“About a month or so. I couldn’t be sure you really had the ability to channel spirits until I saw you last night.”
I jerk, turning my gaze upward to glare at him. “Did you stand outside my window, watching me?”
He shakes his head. “Of course not. I noticed you were talking to yourself while I was inside and you were in the kitchen. I studied you for a little bit. I did that before I found someone to free me from the haunting. I guess they didn’t actually get rid of the spirit. They just put a wall around me, so the ghost couldn’t touch or speak to me.”
“Great. You knew I could hear them, so you seduced me, thinking I’d help you get rid of whoever is haunting you because you’re such a good lay.”
My breath becomes visible as the temperature drops even further and I tremble, pushing myself to my feet. I face the direction of the door and, gathering my strength, I stumble to it. I concentrate on wrapping my hands around the knob and turning it.
“Where are you going?” Gautier keeps pace with me, but doesn’t touch or try to stop me.
“I’m going home. Thanks for last night, but I think I have to pass on another such wonderful time. I don’t like being used, unless it’s for my stunning body, and we both know that’s not why you dragged me to your bed.”
I make it outside before my legs give out and I trip down the front steps. Gautier catches me as I’m about to get up close and personal with the cement slabs. Getting out of the house helps me regain some coordination and energy. I jerk away from him.
“How are you going to get back to your place?”
“I’ve walked farther than that. Now that I’m out of your house, I’m feeling better. I can make it on my own.” I flash him as bright a smile as I can and I trail down the sidewalk. “It was nice meeting you and I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around town.”
“Tabor Augustus, don’t you dare run away from me.”
The annoyed tone in Gautier’s voice freezes me in place. I slowly turn to look at him and his expression is a trifle sheepish. I march back to him and poke him in the chest.
“You didn’t just use that tone of voice with me. I’m not a child to be yelled at or patronized. You were the one who wanted to use me and whatever ability you think I have to get rid of your personal spirit.” I wave my hand back in the direction of his house. “I have my own issues, man, and I don’t have enough energy to help you out.”
Gautier enfolds my finger with his hands, and I shiver at his touch, wishing he wasn’t an asshole because I really do want to have sex with him again. His blue eyes darken with desire as he pulls me closer to press his lips to mine.
I melt into his arms, moaning softly as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. One of his hands cups my ass, while he buries the other one into the curls at the nape of my neck. He trails kisses down my neck to where it meets my shoulder. I drop my head to the side, giving him more access. He scrapes his teeth over my skin and draws more shivers from me.
I try to entwine my leg around Gautier’s thigh, bringing us closer to each other. All thoughts fly from my head as he crushes our groins together. My erection leaks pre-cum, soaking a spot on my underwear.
A car door slamming breaks the haze of lust surrounding us. I jump away from him, tottering slightly as my knees threaten to buckle under me. I stiffen them, not wanting to act any weaker than I have in front of him.
“You’re doing that on purpose. You’re trying to cloud my judgment. Are you trying to get me back in your house? Once I’m asleep, I won’t be able to stop it from happening again. You’ll be able to use my energy to free yourself of whatever that thing is following you.” I shake my head. “I can’t do it. Not so close together.”
Nodding, he doesn’t try to persuade me to stay. “Let me drive you home. You have to be tired. I didn’t let you get a lot of rest last night.”
As much as I want to say it was worth it, I keep my mouth shut. Gautier might be a former priest, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to spill my guts to him. I need to stay strong, even though my cock protests not getting naked around him again.
We climb into Gautier’s car and head toward my house.
“After I started getting haunted by whoever he is, I really began to question so many things. Being gay wasn’t even an issue for me and it wasn’t even the biggest reason I chose to leave the priesthood. I just wasn’t happy anymore. While I enjoyed helping my parishioners, I didn’t like the rules and laws that always made me feel like religion hurts people more than it helps.”
Willing to listen while Gautier spills his guts, I keep my mouth shut. Maybe I’d learn something worthwhile. Why do I care? What does it matter why he does what he does?
“What do you do now?” I fight the urge to slap myself in the forehead. So much for keeping my mouth shut.
“I’m a counselor for a local youth center. I try to help them make good decisions, instead of turning toward drugs or alcohol. Or even running away from home.”
“I tried running away once.” I chuckle. “It didn’t work out well.”
“Why not?”
“I thought my mom would come after me and drag me home. Turns out she didn’t even know I was gone until I came back.” I try not to remember my disappointment when I realized she didn’t miss me. “Apparently, she was too busy studying the alignment of the stars and how the cards read.”
“Cards?” He glances at me while we idle at a stoplight.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, tarot. She was really big into the whole metaphysical shit.”
Gautier steps on the gas. “You’re haunted by how many ghosts, but you don’t believe in tarot cards?”
Shrugging, I rub my palms on my thighs. “Oh, I believe in them, but what kind of mother pays more attention to spirits or fate than to where her ten-year-old son is? Yet she wasn’t surprised the first time I told her I saw a ghost.”
“You can see them?”
“Can’t you? I guess I assumed you talk to them as well.”
Gautier shakes his head. “No. The only time I’ve ever talked to it was just a few minutes ago when it sapped your energy to try to manifest. I know it’s there because I can sense it around me. Like there’s another presence in the room while I’m there. What’s it like when they talk to you?”
I wrinkle my nose as I figure out how to describe it. “It’s just like they’re talking to me in my mind. There’s some pressure in my head, but for the most part, it’s not anything more than a mild headache usually. On nights when I know they’re going to take my energy, it gets worse. Almost like they’re pushing into me to take over my body.”
Goose bumps dance along my arms and the hair at the nape of my neck rises. I hate when they enter my body and sap my life force. I don’t like talking about it either. Admitting what happens to me doesn’t make me happy. Burying my head in the sand is an action I prefer instead of fighting them. Hell, I just close myself off on the nights I know they’re coming.
“There is something about your ghosts that’s different from mine. I’ve never had my spirit attack me or anyone else who comes into the house.” Gautier turns onto the main street. “Do you think they really attacked me because I wanted to take you away?”
“That was your thought, not mine.” I purse my lips. “I have no idea why they don’t like you. Maybe it’s because they know you used to be a priest.”
“How would they know?”
Gautier’s question makes me laugh. I stare at him with a wide grin.
“Are you kidding me? They’re spirits, dude. Of course, they know about you. Hell, they probably know shit about you that you’ve forgotten.” I shift in the seat, tugging on the seatbelt.
“You’re more than likely right.”
He pulls up in front of my house. As the car’s idles, I unhook my belt and twist to meet his gaze.
“Last night was fun, but I’m not willing to let you use me. Maybe if you had asked me, instead of tricking me, I’d have helped out. I’m not sure what you were thinking I could do.” I open the door and start to slide out.
He stops me with a hand on my arm. I turn back to look at his face, which has somehow become dear to me in the time we’ve spent together. My heart thuds in my chest, almost like it’s breaking at the thought of leaving him or never seeing him again. Yet how is that possible? I’ve only known him for two days, and I didn’t usually attach myself to people so quickly.
Having been haunted by ghosts for most of my life makes it difficult to open up to strangers. I don’t invite many friends over to my house either, since I never know for sure whether my houseguests will accept visitors or not. Gautier is apparently not on the approved guest list.
“I’m sorry, T.A. When I started following you, I did hope you could help me with my problem. As I watched you and learned more about you, I found I liked you.”
“Then you talked to me and discovered I’m really not your type,” I joke.
Gautier tightens his grip on my arm. “No. I figured out you were exactly the kind of guy I like to hang out with. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I didn’t like you. I don’t do one-night stands, and it never crossed my mind to seduce you into helping me. Not until you brought it up, but I wouldn’t have done it anyway.”
“Yet you do realize I can’t come to your house anymore? Not unless I’m willing to let Jacob channel through me again.”
“Jacob? Is that his name?” Gautier frowns. “I’m not sure if it’s the person I thought it was.”
“Not sure? You didn’t know his name?” I settle back into the seat, willing to talk to him instead of going inside where my own visitors threaten to torment me.
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the guy who committed suicide isn’t the one haunting me. The name isn’t the same.” His forehead wrinkles and he laughs. “God knows how I managed to pick up another spirit.”
“You might be like me and are just a magnet for that kind of thing. Of course, mine come with their very own box. I think it’s even the original box.”
“Box? What are you talking about? You have a haunted box?”
I rub my palms over my thighs and inhale sharply. “I guess you could call it haunted. I think the spirits use it as a portal to come through to take my energy. My mom gave me the box when I was ten and that’s when I started having nightmares. They might have been trying to use me, but since I was so young, I didn’t know how to let them. I fought them and ended up sick.”
He tilts his head and studies me. “Why did she give it to you?”
“She said it was my grandma’s and I was supposed to have it when I turned ten.”
“Do you know anything about your family? That might help you work out why they’ve come to you specifically.”
Admittedly, the thought has never occurred to me. I only have one aunt left to talk to about my family, and she wouldn’t be able to tell me anything about my father, though maybe she has an idea of who he might be.
“Would you let me look at the box?”
I scrunch up my nose, trying to decide if showing him the box is a smart or safe thing because my visitors don’t like him. They might hurt him if he touches it, and I don’t want him scared off since he’s turning out to be a man I could see spending time with.
“Let me think on it. I’m not sure it’s the best thing to do.”
Gautier leans over and brushes a kiss over my lips. After he sits back, he says, “Call me if you need help. They might not be happy about you spending the night with me.”
“They’ve never hurt me, just sucked me dry on All Hallows’ Eve.” I’m not particularly scared of them, just annoyed and tired of them being around me.
“Just do it.” He gives me his number, and I program it into my phone.
“All right. Maybe I’ll see you around town some time.”
“Oh, you’ll see me again, Tabor. I’m not going to let you get away that easily.”
I slip out of the car and head up the walk toward the front door. My heart sings a little at his promise of not letting me go.

CHAPTER 4

I unlock my door and step inside. I stagger as a wall of cold air hits me. Gritting my teeth, I shut the door behind me, after waving to Gautier as he sits in the driveway. I don’t want him to get a hint of things being wrong.

As soon as there is a barrier between us, I slide to the floor and curl into a ball, battered by the waves of anger and hatred. They’ve never reacted this way before. From my position on the floor, I pry my eyes open to stare into the living room. Shit! It looks like someone came in and ransacked the place.

Either someone broke into my house while I was gone, or for the first time they took their anger out on my stuff instead of me. Icy phantom fingers encircle my throat, and I gasp as a blurry image of a man appears in front of me.

“This can’t be happening,” I blurt around the barrier blocking my air.
::You went with him.::
“Are there rules about me getting some ass?”
Maybe it isn’t smart to taunt the being whose imaginary hand is wrapped around my throat, but I’ve never been accused of being the brightest bulb in the box. My body is shaken and I can’t do anything as my head hits the door hard enough for me to see stars.
::Not the priest. He can ruin everything.::
Ruin everything? How can a priest have any effect on the ghosts living in my house?
::He’s never to come here again. You are never to have anything to do with him again.::
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
Maybe it’s not the smartest thing to do, arguing with invisible beings, but I’m getting tired of everyone around me telling me what I can do. It doesn’t matter the voices in my head have already proven they could get violent if they want.
::You are our channel. Our portal back to the mortal world. They promised us.::
I want to protest, but my air supply is slowly disappearing. A whimper sticks in my throat, making me panic. I scramble to get to my feet and fight against the pressure leaning into me. I won’t let them defeat me. I have no voice, yet I have my mind.
::If you kill me, you won’t have a channel anymore.::
I might have been wrong. Maybe the stupid box can pass to anyone. Some poor, unsuspecting person cleaning out my house would come across it and be haunted the rest of his life. I’m not the nicest person in the world, but I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.
The grip on my neck loosens, and I gasp as oxygen rushes into my burning lungs. I stumble across the hallway, but make it to the couch before I collapse, coughing and sucking in air. The atmosphere seems warmer, yet I don’t believe my tormentor is gone. It’s almost like I can feel the ghosts standing in the corner, watching my every move. I sit still, not sure what will set them off.
“Wait. Who promised you I’d be your portal?” I tremble, not sure whether it’s from anger or fear.
My head begins to pound and I droop as more of my energy is sucked from me. They drain me, so they can make an appearance. Or it could be the strongest spirit wanting to be able to talk to me.
::Those who stuck us in the box. They promised there would always be someone whose energy we could use to stay in this world.::
“Who are they?” I’m frustrated by not having a name or names.
::The witches.::
Witches? I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact. Who else would trap spirits in a box? My eyes slip to half-mast as exhaustion whips through me. I slowly lie on the cushions, pressing my head to the arm of the couch and longing for the pain to stop.
I drift asleep, wishing deep inside for some way to get rid of everything weighing me down.
A crash brings me shooting up from where I lie on the couch.
“What the fuck?”
I shove my hand through my hair as more sounds come from the hallway. Is someone breaking in?
“Tabor? Where are you?”
Holy shit! Did Gautier not understand me earlier when I told him we couldn’t see each other again. Also, wasn’t he not going to come to my house again?
“Tabor Augustus, you better tell me where the hell you are, or I’ll tear this house apart looking for you.” His voice gets closer.
“You know if you’d just look in the stupid living room, you’d see I’m okay and you won’t have to tear apart my house,” I call out.
“What are you doing sitting in the dark?”
The overhead light floods the room and I slap my palms to my eyes to keep them from falling out. Most of my smaller lamps are in pieces on the floor. Peering at the shredded shades, I frown when the thought I’d need to go shopping for new things hit me. I hate shopping with every fiber in me.
“Tabor, what did you do?”
I drop my hands and snarl at him. “I didn’t do anything. It was like this when I got home. What time is it?”
“It’s evening.”
“Really? I’ve slept that long?” I push to my feet and brace against the chair across from me as my head whirls and my vision blurs.
“Are you okay?” Gautier takes my elbow and leads me toward the front door.
As much as I want to dig in my heels and balk at being carried off like a child, I can’t fight him. He carts me to his car and stuffs me in the passenger seat. I can’t hold my head up, so I let it roll to the side and watch Gautier enter my house. Usually, I fiercely protect my privacy and home, but I just don’t have the strength or energy to care what he’s doing.
I doze, losing track of time again. When the back car door opens, I glance over my shoulder to see Gautier place a suitcase on the seat behind me.
“What’re you doing?”
“You can’t stay there any more. They’ll drain you of all your energy and you’ll die. I’m not going to let that happen.” Gautier shuts the door and goes around to the driver’s side. He slides behind the wheel and starts the car.
“So you’re going to have me stay with you where I’ll be used by your ghost instead? Excuse me if that doesn’t sound like a fun time for me.”
“Can’t you shut up for once and let me do something for you? I’m sorry about Jacob or whoever the hell my ghost is. I didn’t know he’d do anything to you. Heck, he didn’t try anything until you came back the second time. Maybe he won’t do anything now. Can’t you block him or anything like that?”
I glare at Gautier. “If I could, I wouldn’t be sucked dry by my own invisible leeches.”
He purses his lips. “Point taken. I guess I can take you to the B&B in town.”
Resting my pounding head against the window, I sigh. “I don’t care. Take me to your house. I don’t think I have enough energy for Jacob to try to steal. I just want my headache to go away.”
He pats my shoulder before putting the car in drive and pulling away from my house. I close my eyes and pay no attention to where he’s taking me. Whether it’s the B&B or Gautier’s house, I don’t care. There’s no fight left in me. I simply want to curl up somewhere and hide for a while. Tomorrow, after I rest, I’ll be able to deal with all the shit pouring down on me.
“We’re here.”
I look up to see Gautier standing next to me, holding my door open. I must have fallen asleep as soon as he pulled out of my driveway because I don’t remember anything of the drive. My hands tremble as I undo my seatbelt and practically fall out of the car. Gautier catches me and sweeps me up into his arms.
“I can walk,” I protest.
His raised eyebrows tell me what he thinks, and I subside. I might be able to take a step or two, but any farther than that and I’d be planting myself face-first into his lawn. I don’t think I’d make a very attractive lawn ornament. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and bury my face in the crook of his neck.
Somehow he manages to get me inside and down the hall to his bed without dropping me. He sets me on the mattress and starts stripping me. I open my mouth to argue, but he presses a finger to my lips and shakes his head.
“Let me do this for you, Tabor. I’m the one who caused all of this to happen. If I hadn’t approached you, they wouldn’t have gotten angry at you and trashed your house.” He slips my shirt over my head and drops it to the floor.
I lean back on my elbows and lift my hips, so he can tug my jeans down and off. I fall back, staring up at his ceiling. Was it only last night I went to sleep staring at the walls of this room? He lifts my legs up on the bed, and I crawl under the blankets, grab his pillow, and curl around it. He brushes a kiss over my forehead before walking away.
“Aren’t you joining me?”
Yes, I’m indecisive. I’d told him earlier I didn’t want anything more to do with him. Now I’m going to beg him to stay with me. I don’t want to be alone, not with the ghost of Jacob. Of course, sleeping at my house is becoming impossible, especially since they attacked me.
“I need to do some housework, plus get some food cooking if you’re hungry.” He stands, hands tucked into his pockets and his head turned away from me.
I frown and roll over to push myself up, the blankets pooling at my waist. I see he cuts a look at my chest before returning his gaze to the floor. Smiling to myself, I run my hand over my stomach, up my chest, and pinch one of my nipples. I moan, and Gautier’s head pops up, his eyes widening as he spies me playing.
“Are you afraid to share a bed with me? Do you want me again, Gautier?”
“Don’t tease me, Tabor. You were the one who freaked out on me. I don’t want you to run screaming when you wake up and realize what you did. It’s probably just the exhaustion speaking.”
What can I say? I did tell him I didn’t want anything to do with him in bed anymore, and here I sit, trying to seduce him because I don’t want to sleep alone. I drop my hand and sigh.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do it. I’m usually not this way.” I pause for a moment before continuing, “Okay, so I’m usually grumpy and solitary, but I’m not a cock tease.”
He sits on the edge of the bed close enough for me to feel the heat from his body through the blankets. Resting a hand on my knee, he smiles at me.
“Things are getting worse for you, aren’t they? Don’t wig out, but since I’ve started watching you, I’ve noticed you’ve lost weight and haven’t been sleeping much.” He strokes a hand up and down my thigh absently, making me think he isn’t really paying attention to what he’s doing. “We need to figure out how to get rid of that box, honey. I’m not sure you can survive much more being drained by them.”
Not wanting to dislodge his hand, but still being tired, I slide back down and pull the covers up. I pat his hip with a slight smile to reassure him.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you go do what you have to do? Make some dinner. I’ll take a nap and when I get up, we’ll talk about what we should do. I’m going to call my aunt tomorrow. She might be able to help me with the history of the stupid box.”
Gautier leans forward and brushes a kiss over my forehead. I blink away tears welling at the tenderness of his touch. No one, not even my family, has treated me as lovingly as this man. Emotions are growing between us, and he seems to like me—ghosts, irritable attitude and all. I shouldn’t look a gift ex-priest in the mouth, right? Though he might change his mind if he sticks around after we take care of our spirits.
“I’ll let you sleep for a while, but I’ll get you up when dinner’s ready. We can plan our attack then.”
He stands and leaves, turning off the lights as he walks out of the room. I wiggle to find the perfect spot before I close my eyes and silently pray for a dreamless sleep.

* * * ::Do you really think you can help me find my way home?::

I jerk awake with blurry vision, yet I can make out a faint figure standing next to the bed. A cool breeze dances over my skin, drawing shivers from me.

“Who are you?” My voice squeaks, but I’m proud of being able to say anything at all.
::You know who I am. I tried to get your attention earlier. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare or hurt you in any way.::
Surprise races through me. None of my spirits ever apologize for anything they’ve done to me. It’s almost like they feel entitled to every part of me, whether it’s my energy or my life. I blink again and slowly push myself up to lean back against the pillows. I shove hair off my forehead with a shaking hand.
“What’s your name? Why are you haunting Gautier?” Another thought passes through my head. “Did you watch us last night?”
The idea of the ghost standing in the corner, spying on us while we had sex creeps me out even more than him stealing my life force or whatever to make himself appear. I’m not into exhibitionism.
::No.::
The very affront in the ghost’s voice explains how appalling he finds my question.
“Wait. Do you have a problem with two men having sex?”
Okay, so this isn’t the time for me to get huffy about a dead person being homophobic. Not like I can do anything to change his mind or if he does change his mind, it doesn’t matter anyway because he’s already dead.
“Never mind.” I wave my hand to distract him from the last question. “Who are you?”
::I’m Jacob. I used to be one of Father Gautier’s parishioners, but I committed suicide last year. I know I can’t go to heaven because I broke a commandment or something. The Catholic church considers suicide a sin.::
“Well, that sucks,” I mutter.
“Who are you talking to?”
Gautier walks into the room and right through Jacob’s transparent body. Jacob wavers and flickers like a TV screen receiving interference. Gautier shivers, but other than that, he doesn’t react. He sits on the bed next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I lean into his solid body, breathing deeply of his fresh scent.
“I’m talking to your ghost, Jacob. He says he was one of your parishioners, but he committed suicide and doesn’t believe he can go to heaven. He said the church looks down on it as a sin.”
He glances around the room, searching for the spirit. I chuckle before pointing to where Jacob stands, though I don’t believe Gautier will be able to see him. It takes a sensitive person to feel the presence of ghosts. Unfortunately, I’m cursed with the ability.
“He’s really here?” He doesn’t sound like he believes me.
“Yes, he is. Jacob, move something.” I gesture toward the pile of clothes folded on a chair next to the closet.
I watch as Jacob drifts over there, and, as the room becomes colder, the clothes slowly slide off the seat onto the floor. Gautier stiffens and he swears softly under his breath. I grab his hand in mine and squeeze.
“It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you or me, and while he might not be able to control the temperature dropping, I believe him. Jacob’s simply looking for a way to get to heaven.” I lift an eyebrow in question. “Do you think you know how to help him?”
“Shit! I wish I’d paid more attention to things like this while I was in seminary.” Gautier shakes his head. “I’m not completely sure how to go about helping him. I do know the church considers suicide a sin, but they look at it from the perspective that the person who commits suicide isn’t in his/her right mind. It’s a mental health issue.”
Jacob moves closer, and my skin tingles as the chill surrounds us. Gautier tugs me to him and tucks the blankets around my waist, doing his best to keep me warm.
::I’m not a sinner for committing suicide?::
“I’m not sure that’s completely right, but I do believe you’ll be allowed in heaven, even though you did it.” I shrug. “But we’ll do our best to help you.”

::That’s all I can ask for, I guess. I’m losing my ability to stay in this world and I don’t want to take any more of your energy. You’ve been used sorely today.::

“Wow, a polite ghost. I’m impressed, but I thank you for not draining me like my regular guests wish to do. We’ll do our best to figure out a solution to your problem,” I promise him, not liking the idea of the young spirit being trapped here on this plane forever, especially if it means him hanging around Gautier.

Jacob disappears from view as I let my head drop to Gautier’s shoulder with a sigh.
“Are you hungry?” His voice jerks me from my doze.
“Yes, and we need to discuss the possibilities of getting Jacob to cross over or whatever they do.” I toss the blankets off before climbing out of bed.
“Here.” Gautier holds out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. “They might be a little big on you, but they’re clean.”
I tug them on and step up to him, cupping his face in my hands. I kiss him quickly before easing back and smiling. “Let’s go eat. My stomach is trying to gnaw its way through my spine.”
Laughing, he takes my hand to lead me to the kitchen. “Sit and I’ll dish out the stew. Plus I made some biscuits as well. What would you like to drink?”
“Milk.”
It might sound strange, but I like milk and rarely drink alcohol since I don’t like how the liquor loosens my control. Not over the spirits, but over my own actions. He pours out a glass for me, setting it in front of me before grabbing a bowl and spooning out a steamy helping of the stew. After he places it on the table, I bend over and breathe deep, inhaling the drool-inducing aroma.
“Holy cow, this smells great. I’m impressed you managed to make something like this so fast.” I take a bite and moan.
He blushes and ducks his head. “I’d started it before I came back to see you.”
I frown. “Good point. Why did you come back to my house?”
“I kept calling you, and you wouldn’t answer. Something made me uneasy, so I said to hell with you telling me you didn’t want to see me again. I jumped in my car and drove over. I got worried when you didn’t come to the door, so I broke in.” He lifts one shoulder. “I kind of freaked when I saw the destruction of your place. I didn’t realize the beings in your house could do something like that.”
“I didn’t either. Of course, I didn’t know they could attack you either. Guess I never paid much attention to their abilities. I usually just let them use my energy without fighting them. I’d learned the hard way they could take what they wanted, even if I tried to deny it to them.”
I dip some of the biscuit in the bowl while Gautier stares at me.
“You mean they steal your energy whenever they want? Not only during Halloween?” He sounds surprised.
“Sure.” I nod. “Apparently, the witches who trapped them in the box told them they would always have a person to drain. I’m betting it has to be someone from my family, and it sucks for them since there’s only my aunt and me. Neither one of us is having children any time soon.”
Gautier eats half of his food before setting his spoon aside. He rocks back in his chair, balancing on the back legs. “Who told you all of this?”
“The boss.”
His puzzled frown alerts me he doesn’t understand what the hell I’m talking about.
“It’s what I call the strongest ghost. He’s the one who sort of runs things. I’m pretty sure he’s the one who takes most of my energy and makes the others listen to him. I don’t know how many there are. Maybe two or three others. At least that’s all I’ve felt around me.”
“Do you know their names?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I’m not sure they remember their names. I often get the feeling they’re old souls, like they were alive a long time ago. I don’t think they see themselves as people anymore. Well, maybe the boss does.”
“I still want to see the box. If the chant works to keep them from choking me, it might help us get it out of there. Do you think they might be less powerful if you’re not around?”
I purse my lips as I think. I’ve never tried to have someone else take the box and look at it. Of course, no one ever knew what I go through every day. It’s not dinner conversation for the most part.
“You can try to get it if you’d like. I’m not sure if it’ll work or not, but I’m willing to chance it. I want this all to be over with.” I push my bowl away and stand, wandering back into the living room and dropping onto the couch.
I hear the clink of bowls and silverware hitting the sink, along with the rush of water as Gautier rinses them. I can’t feel the presence of Jacob, so it’s possible he’s keeping his promise about staying away from us. Gautier joins me on the couch, his hand coming to rest on my thigh.
For someone like me who has always been a loner, I find odd comfort in the knowledge Gautier’s supporting me. Silence fills the room as we both let our minds drift over the situation.
“Would you let me go and grab the box? I could bring it over here and we can look it over together.”
Shaking my head, I suggest, “Would the priest at St. Joseph’s be upset if you graced the church’s threshold again?”
He shoots me a glance. “I don’t think so, but I’ll call him first. What are you thinking?”
“We drive to my house. You go in and grab the box. We take it to the church to look it over. I don’t want to risk the chance of those entities getting a foothold in your place. Jacob is a child compared to them.” I shudder. “Considering what they did to my house, they’d tear this place to the ground.”
Quiet drifts as he thinks about what I said for a few moments. He finally nods.
“You’re right. I don’t want to risk everything when we can go to the church and have built-in protection there.” He pushes to his feet and walks to his bedroom.
He returns with a small box of his own, but doesn’t tell me what it is. We head out on a mission to rid me of my spiritual leeches. Nothing’s said as we make our way across town. Once we’re in my driveway, he stops the car and turns to look at me.
“I called Father Robert while I was in my bedroom. He said to come over right away. What does the box look like?”
“It’s the only thing under my bed. You can’t miss it.” I slip my hand around the back of his head and pull him close enough for a kiss. I rub my tongue along the seam of his lips, and he opens for me.
Kissing Gautier is starting to become a religious experience for me. I ease back, licking my lips to imprint his taste in my mind.
“You need to go in before I forget what we’re doing here and fuck you in the backseat.”
Blushing, he climbs out of the car and strolls to the front door. I entwine my fingers to keep from popping off my seatbelt and rushing after Gautier. I don’t want to enter my house until we’ve taken care of the spirits. They’ve been slowly draining me for years, and I’ve had the feeling they’re getting ready to try something, a breakout so they’re no longer tied to just me. A deep instinct tells me we don’t want them loose on an unsuspecting public.
I jump as a soft breeze plays with the hair at the nape of my neck.
“What the hell?”
There isn’t an open window in the car, and I know there isn’t anyone alive in the back seat. I tighten my grip on my hands and bite my bottom lip.
::It’s all right, Tabor Augustus. It’s just me.::
“Just me? Who the hell are you?” I mutter under my breath, not recognizing the faint voice in my head.
::You don’t recognize your mother’s voice?::

CHAPTER 5

I straighten in my seat, wanting to look over my shoulder, but knowing it’s silly because I won’t be able to see her.
“What are you doing here?”
::I’m afraid I’ve done you a disservice, Tabor. I should’ve prepared you for your legacy, or even tried to break the hold they have on us.::
“Who are they? The strongest spirit said the witches promised them someone to feed off of after binding them in the box.” I stare out the window, hoping Gautier returns soon because I’m not sure I can deal with my mother’s spirit on my own.
::We’ll wait for your man.::
I want to protest that Gautier isn’t my man. At least not yet, and who’s to say he ever would be? We’re fellow travelers on a journey to rid ourselves of ghosts. He might disappear after everything is normal.
::Trust me, Tabor. A mother knows these things and I have no doubt Gautier likes you. Here he comes.::
I look out to see Gautier stumble from the house, holding the box in his arms. His shoulders are hunched like he’s protecting himself from blows.
::Tell him to set the box in the trunk. I’ll keep the spirits under control until we get to the church.::
I know better than to argue with my mother, even if she’s dead. I roll down the window.
“Gautier, put the box in the trunk,” I yell.
He waves at me in acknowledgement, and I pop the trunk for him. He dumps the box before climbing into the car. I gasp as he turns to face me.
“What the fuck happened?” I reach out, letting my fingers hover over the scratches on his left cheek.
“I guess they weren’t happy about me taking the box.” His smile is weak and painful. “Let’s get going.”
“Okay, but I have something to tell you.” I hesitate, not sure how he’s going to take the news.
“Spit it out, Tabor. I’m running short on patience, though it has nothing to do with you.”
How can it not be partly me trying his patience? Of course, he had to know what he was getting into by contacting me. It isn’t like my life is quiet and sedate.
“My mother’s spirit is here.” The words come in a rush and I drop my chin to my chest, staring at the floor between my feet.
“What?”
Lifting my head slightly, I say again, “My mother’s spirit is here.”
I hear a sound like someone hitting something. I peer through my lashes to see Gautier hitting his forehead against the steering wheel. I pat his knee gently.
“Don’t worry. She’s going to keep the spirits under control ’til we get to the church.”
He stops punishing himself and looks at me. “She’s what?”
Okay, I know he’s surprised by all of this, but his constant asking me questions is getting annoying. I fold my arms over my chest and sit back with a huff.
“She said she’d keep the spirits under control. I’m not sure how she can do that, but I’m not going to argue with her. It’s a little creepy to know she’s around,” I admit.
Gautier turns the key and the car roars to life. He backs out of my driveway and turns to make his way to St. Joseph’s. His silence causes me to shift in my seat, waiting for the breaking of the dam and all his irritation to pour forth. I watch as he taps his fingers on the wheel and his lips move as he talks silently to himself.
::Maybe you shouldn’t have told him I was around, dear.::
I jump as another caress to my neck startles me. Gautier glances at me, causing me to shake my head.
“Are you absolutely sure your mother’s here? Why would she be here and not in the house? Is she attached to you?”
Shrugging, I pluck at the threads of the hole in my jeans. “I’m not sure. I guess I could ask her, but are you sure you want to be having a discussion with my mother through me?”
::I can talk straight to him, if he’d like.::
“Or she can talk right to you without using me.” I speak slowly.
“Oh hell, no. I don’t want a dead person talking to me.”
I’m a little shocked by his vehement refusal. Twisting around to lean my back against the door, I purse my lips and say, “Really? What do you have against speaking with spirits?”
“It’s crazy.” He immediately stops talking and looks at me. “I mean…”
“Never mind. I know what you mean. Fine, if she decides to talk to you, it’ll be through me, but I don’t want it to be some long, drawn out conversation. I have enough to deal with on my own.” I glance out the window as we pull up in front of the church. “Is Father Robert going to help us with this?”
“No. While he doesn’t have a problem with us using the church, he doesn’t want to be involved.”
“Plausible deniability. Always good to have if something goes wrong.”
We climb out, and I stand at the bottom of the flight of stairs, waiting for Gautier to grab the box from the trunk. A chill drifts over my arms, alerting me to my mother’s presence. Is it weird I’m more comforted knowing her spirit is with me than I ever was when she was alive?
::I wasn’t much of a mother to you, Tabor Augustus, and I’m sorry for that. I hope you eventually come to understand why. I spent most of my time dealing with the ghosts haunting me. Not just the ones in the box. They took my attention away from you.::
Am I bitter? It’s possible I’ve held a little bit of a grudge or bitterness toward her for not being a June Cleaver type mother, yet she never beat me. I never went hungry and I had clothes that fit me. Most of the time, though, it was like she was never entirely there. Dealing with ghosts could take up most of her attention.
When I come home from work, there are times when it feels like my head will explode from the voices clamoring for me to acknowledge them.
“Was that how you felt while you were alive?” I keep my voice low, hoping not to upset Gautier by talking to my dead mother.
::Yes, in a way, though the ghosts I dealt with weren’t nearly as aggressive as those you live with. The entities in that box have been around for centuries and have built up strength all that time, making it hard to deal with them.::
“How many of members of the family dealt with them? I guess I should ask why they’re attached to me instead of someone else.”
“Are you talking to her?” Gautier joins me.
I nod as we climb the stairs to the elaborately carved wooden doors of the Catholic church. My hands shake as I open one of the doors, and we slide inside. Gautier juggles the box like it’s hot or something. I levitate as the box slams onto the floor and rattles around. We stare at each other for a moment before Gautier nudges it closer to one of the pews. He gestures for me to sit and he crouches next to the object of my ire.
For the catalyst of so much trouble, the box itself isn’t impressive or anything. It’s hand-carved black cherry wood. I’d taken a picture of it at one point when I first received it and looked the species up on the ’Net. Cherry was the logical choice since the trees were abundant in Massachusetts and that’s where the box and its contents started. At least I’m guessing it’s Massachusetts since the boss ghost mentioned witches.
“Not very interesting, is it?” Gautier pokes it with his toe again.
“Not really. Though I’m not sure what you thought it would look like.”
Gautier shrugs. “It should be carved with warnings or have huge locks on it to keep unsuspecting people from opening it and letting the spirits out.”
::It doesn’t work that way. The beings are connected to the energy source for the most part, not to the container they’re in.::
“Great. You mean even if we manage to destroy this thing, I’m still stuck with them,” I mutter, not happy with her information.
::Yes, dear. Our ancestors weren’t concerned with us. They wanted the spirits to leave them alone, which meant they had to sacrifice their descendants to get the magic to work. Since they weren’t going to be affected by the haunting, they were willing to cast the spell::
Energy drains from me suddenly, causing me to drop to my knees next to Gautier. I brace my hand on his shoulder to keep from falling prone to the floor. Our breath appears as we exhale, testifying to how cold the sanctuary has become.
“They’re here, aren’t they?”
Gautier takes my hand in his and squeezes, offering his strength, though I can’t take it like the spirits can. Yet my heart’s glad to know he isn’t going to run off at the first sign of trouble. Though I should have known that after he was almost choked to death in my kitchen and all he did was drag me out of there.
“How dare you bring us here!”
I stifle the urge to giggle like a manic. So fucking dramatic. Really? Did the boss ghost watch all the scary ghost shows to learn how he should talk?
The words, spoken aloud, are harsh, while the voice is weak. I know the tremendous amount of energy a spirit needs to say anything we can hear, so I figure that’s where all my strength went. “Do you really think you can get rid of us? It won’t be that easy.”
I snort, and Gautier shoots me a disgruntled look. I cover my mouth, but my laugh escapes.
“What’s so funny?” Gautier asks, as he shifts slightly to put himself between the open aisle and me.
“Just the way he’s talking. Sounds like a bad horror movie.”
My head whips forward from the force of the slap to the back of it. I nail Gautier’s chin with mine and my lip splits.
“Fuck.” I touch my fingers to the bleeding spot.
“Don’t swear in church, Tabor.” Gautier’s admonishment doesn’t sound sincere as he studies the box and ignores my injury.
“Well, excuse me for swearing. It’s not often I break open my lip on someone else’s chin. That hurt. What are we going to do? If they can physically harm us while we’re on holy ground, what’s to stop them from draining me dry right now?” I slap my hand over my mouth, wincing at the sharp pain it caused, but not happy about giving them ideas.
::If they were to do that, they’d lose out because there’s no one else for them to channel through.:: My mother speaks up.
“But that’s going to happen anyway. Aunt Tippie and I are the last two people in the family line. Neither one of us are going to have children. She’s too old, and I’m gay.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“My mother says they won’t drain me dry because there’s no one else for them to channel through. I pointed out it was going to happen anyway because I’m gay and my aunt is way too old to be having kids. This would be easier if you let her talk to you as well,” I grumble, lifting the hem of my shirt up to dab at my lip. I grimace at the dark red spots on the blue fabric. “Ugh! I hate blood, especially when it’s my own.”
“I don’t want your mother talking in my head and can you be quiet for a bit? I need to think about all of this for a few minutes and I think better in silence.”
I mime locking my lips and throwing away the key. If he doesn’t want me to speak, then I won’t chatter. If I could get to my feet, I’d stomp off, but I’m having a hard time just keeping upright and not face-planting on the church floor. I shudder as I think about what kind of dirt and germs call it home.
::It’s true. You are the last of our line, but if they keep you alive as long as possible, they think they’ll be able to build up enough power to break the spell that put them in their prison.::
::Do you know who they are and why they’re in there?:: I hate talking in my head, but since Gautier wants silence, I’ll give it to him.
Her silence speaks louder than words.
::You do!:: I accuse her.
As odd as it might seem, I can feel her sigh in my mind. ::Yes, Tabor. I do know who they are and why they were imprisoned. It’s been passed down as legend through our family since the witches put them in there.::
::And no one thought I should be told about this, especially when you gave me the fucking thing when I turned ten? You could’ve explained everything then. Why didn’t you?::
From some deep reservoir, I find enough strength to push to my feet and stalk toward the altar. As I get closer to the cross and pulpit, the feeling of there being more than just me inside my body eases. I flop down onto the steps leading up to the communion rail. I don’t have the urge to beat my head against the edge to release the pressure inside.
Maybe I should just set up a bed in the confessional. Maybe the close proximity of holy objects will keep them away from me.
::Only for a little while. They’ll overcome the pain eventually to get to you.::
“Yet you’re not bothered by them at all. Why is that?” I’m far enough away from Gautier, I won’t bother him with my talking aloud.
::Maybe I wasn’t as powerful as you are, or as strong as you are. Maybe that’s why they are focused on you to steal your energy.
“So they were evil?”
::Depends on who you talked to at the time about them. They were men just doing what they and society thought was right. Those they persecuted thought they were evil.::
“While they thought the witches were evil. Well, there were witches involved, so I’m thinking this is during the Salem trials.” A thought hits me. “Yet most of the people killed there were innocent.”
::True, but some of them really did practice witchcraft. Those who did, have long memories and when their persecutors died, they trapped their spirits in the box to torment them forever.::
“Yet the witches used their own descendants to feed them. It doesn’t seem fair.” I shove my hand through my hair, tugging on the ends as I think.
::Oh, the people who cast the spell to trap the spirits weren’t our ancestors. Our forefathers are the ones in the box. Our energy is tied to them, so we have to find a way to break the ties and send those spirits to where they belong.::
Scraping on the floor causes me to look up in time to spot Gautier walking toward me. The box, seeming to vibrate, remains in the back of the church. He sits next to me and leans against me.
“Have you figured out how to fix the situation?” I slip my arm around his waist, letting him rest his head on my shoulder.
“Yes, but we’re going to have to leave the church and take a short road trip.”
“Okay. I’m up for whatever you think will work.” I press my lips to his temple. “I want this to be over with. After which, we’ll take care of your ghost and see where our relationship leads.”
Sure, I’m putting myself out there because Gautier never really said he wanted a serious relationship with me. It could be he’s just looking for a simple hook-up, though I’m thinking an ex-priest wouldn’t do casual. What do I know? I haven’t met too many former priests.
“Sounds good to me.” He turns in my embrace and brings our lips together in a promise kiss.
::We should go and get this taken care of. It’s time for you to live your life the way you should have been able to from the beginning.::
“Right.”
Gautier gives me a puzzled look, and I stand, holding out my hand to him.
“Mother suggests we get the show on the road. I was agreeing with her.”
He takes my hand and allows me to pull him to his feet. We wander back to where the box sits, a rather unassuming square holding the ability to ruin whatever future I might have left. For the first time since I received the stupid thing, I feel the possibility of ending this chapter of my life and beginning my future.
Picking it up, he hisses in discomfort. I don’t touch the box, but I can feel the heat emanating from it as I stand next to him. Without saying anything, I lead the way out of St. Joseph’s to Gautier’s car. He dumps the box in the trunk, while I get in the vehicle. We take off, heading out of town.
I hold out as long as I can. “Where are we going?”
“To the person I got the incantation from.” He’s driving as fast as he can without breaking the speed limit.
“Will they be willing to help?”
Not everyone wants to be involved in things considered paranormal or scary.
“She helped me with Jacob to keep him from bothering me. I think she’d help get rid of the spirits haunting you.”
“Who is she?” A small spark of jealousy hits me and I’m not happy about it.
It’s silly to feel this way when he’s told me he left the priesthood because he’s gay. Yet I can’t help hear the smile in his voice as he speaks of the mysterious woman.
::Child, you’re silly to worry about Gautier’s feelings. I can sense he really likes you. He might have even fallen in love with you already.::
I snort silently. ::There’s no such thing as love at first sight, Mother. I think you’re doing a little wishful thinking.::
A soft burst of air brushes my ear and I hear her chuckle in my head.
::It’s real for our family, Tabor. It might be a gift from the witches for the trouble they saddled us with. The first time I saw your father, I fell head-over-heels with him.::
I stiffen, and Gautier shoots me a look, but I shake my head, hoping he doesn’t ask me anything. I wish my mother could be here in person because I’d love to wrap my hands around her arms and shake her silly.
::Why didn’t you say anything about my father while you were alive? Every time I asked you about him, you gave me some kind of idiotic explanation about him having horns and meeting him on All Hallows’ Eve.::
::I know, but I did it to keep anyone from finding out who he really was. Your father was a prominent person in our town and he was also married. I couldn’t do that to him, plus I loved him.::
“Fuck me,” I whisper, not sure I’m happy to hear my father committed adultery with my mother.
“What’s wrong?” Gautier pats my knee while keeping his eyes on the road.
“Nothing, just my mother divulging family secrets. Not sure what took her so long.” I entwine our fingers, relishing the warmth of his skin against mine.
::I couldn’t risk you doing something like trying to talk to him. I promised him his identity would remain a secret until we were both dead.::
“I guess you did a good job keeping that promise, Mother. So my father’s dead, and I’ll never be able to get to know him because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.” I toss my hands in the air, frustrated and hurt she chose my father over me.
The inside of the car becomes colder, and I realize she’s angry with me. Yet I can’t find it in me to apologize. All my life, I was teased and bullied for being strange and a bastard. Maybe if I had known I did have a real father, and not some imaginary lover she made up, I would’ve been able to deal with all the shit. I breathe deep, calming down because whining won’t change anything.
“Are you arguing with your mother?”
I smile at him and nod. “Of course, I am. Apparently my father is dead, so she thinks it’s good to tell me about him now, though she still won’t tell me his name.”
“Is it important to know his name?”
I think about it for a while, staring out the window as we drive through the dark woods. I’m not sure where he’s taking me, yet I’m not nervous or anything. My instincts tell me Gautier isn’t interested in hurting me.
Finally, I sigh. “No, it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to pout for a little bit. Sorry, Mother.”
A gentle breeze rushes over my cheek.
“Who is this woman we’re going to see?” I decide to take my mind off the past.
“I believe she considers herself a witch as well.”
“You believe?” My eyebrows shoot up. “You aren’t sure? Or you don’t believe her? That amazes me because you use the incantation she gave you, and you have to believe for those to work.”
Gautier tilts his head to the left, wearing a slightly embarrassed grimace. “Okay. I’ll admit I believe she knows what she’s doing. Whether it’s because she’s a witch or something else, I don’t care or know. The incantation works and it’s the only thing I care about.”
“Could another witch break the spell, Mother?” I ask as I turn to look in the back seat, though I know she isn’t visible.
::Depending on her power. If she’s stronger than the spirits in the box, then yes, she can break the spell and you’ll all be free.::
“Do you really think those entities haunting you want to be free? Our freedom means they have to go to wherever they are supposed to go, whether that’s hell or heaven. I wouldn’t be surprised if they fight us because they exist in this world. Once they are sent to whichever place they’re sent to, they don’t have any hold on our reality,” Gautier points out.
“We’re not going to give them a choice. I’m not going to continue dealing with them until they drain me of all my energy.” I fold my arms over my chest and stick out my bottom lip. “I refuse to sit around and do nothing. If your friend can’t help us, I won’t rest until they’re gone. I didn’t agree to this and it’s not fair I have to deal with it.”
::Pouting is never attractive, child.::
I give a huff of annoyance, but smooth out my expression. She’s right. I don’t want Gautier to think I’m a whiner, though he probably already has a clue I’m a bit temperamental.
“Don’t worry, T.A. We’ll get you free of the spirits as soon as we can. I’m pretty sure Elissa can and will help us. She doesn’t like trapped entities, good or evil. Also, I don’t think she’ll like the fact your family has been forced into keeping the ghosts earthbound.”
To take my mind off the upcoming showdown, which I’m sure will be quite entertaining, I ask, “Where did you meet Elissa?”
Gautier shifts in his seat. “I might have dated her brother a few times.”
“You might have? You’re not sure.” I poke him in the side.
“Of course I’m sure. We went out three times, but decided we made better acquaintances than boyfriends. Elissa and I met on the second date and figured out we could be friends. After I explained to her about being an ex-priest, she told me she was a witch.”
Before I say anything, we turn into a driveway and bump our way down an overgrown lane toward a small cottage. One light shone in the front window, but no one came out to greet us as we stopped the car and got out.
“Let’s go. Elissa’s waiting for us.”
I turn to glare at Gautier with a growing suspicion in my mind.

CHAPTER 6

I follow Gautier up to the front door, and when he walks right in, I glare at him.
“At what point did you call her to let her know we were coming?” I stop inside the door, not wanting to walk in, even if Elissa knows we’re there.
Gautier’s jaw tightens like he’s clenching his teeth. Am I annoying him so much he’s biting his tongue to keep from saying anything to me? I place my hand on his shoulder and turn him around to look at me.
“Forgive me if I’m not happy you’ve been telling everyone my business. I’m not used to anyone else knowing what’s going on in my private life except me. I’ve kept it all quiet because it sounds crazy.”
“If I wasn’t a witch and hadn’t dealt with spirits most of my life, I’d think you were crazy, Mr. Gilles.”
I look around Gautier to where a tall, thin woman stands, her arms wrapped around her waist like she’s hugging herself. Her skin gleams like the most expensive mahogany I’ve ever seen, yet it looks soft. My fingers itch to stroke over the sweep of her cheekbones.
“I’m Elissa Montague. Father Molyneux is a friend of mine.” She holds out her elegant hand, and I rub my hand on my jeans before shaking it.
“Please don’t call me that, Elissa. I’m not a priest anymore.” Gautier kisses her cheek before gesturing for her to lead us farther into the house.
“You might not serve a church, but you’re still a holy man. God doesn’t care who you love here on earth as long as you honor him.” Elissa smiles at me.
Wonderful sentiment, though I’m not sure it’s true. She rests her hand in the crook of my arm and escorts me to the back of the house where Gautier has disappeared. Candles illuminate the room we walk into, softening the edges with flickering shadows. Elissa senses my hesitation, but she doesn’t allow me to back away. Her grip remains firm as she ushers me into the room and pushes me to a seat on the couch. Gautier joins me.
“What about the box?”
“We don’t need it yet,” she answers my question.
“Okay. What are we doing right now?” I tap my fingers against my thigh until Gautier takes my hand in his.
“I’m looking into your aura, Mr. Gilles. I’m seeing what kind of connection you have to the spirits haunting you and how I can go about cutting those cords.”
Elissa uses a small scoop to pour some herbs on the fire burning on the hearth. I contemplate holding my breath, but blue doesn’t look good on me, so I continue to inhale normally. I hope those herbs don’t get us too high because Gautier has to drive us back home later on, and I don’t fancy him doing it while he’s drugged.
“They aren’t hallucinogens, Mr. Gilles. I use them to protect us from the entities that wish us harm. I can see the ghosts clearly without any help. When I’ve found the bindings, I’ll ask Father Gautier to bring the box in, and we’ll go about freeing all of you from this curse.”
The assurance in her voice encourages me to believe Elissa might be able to help.
::She’s very powerful. I can see her gift surrounding her like a white light.::
“Breathe and relax. Nothing can happen to you in this room.”
Trusting doesn’t come easy to me, but Gautier believes in her, and for some strange reason, I’m willing to take his advice. Not sure if it’s because he’s a former priest or if it’s simply because my heart tells me Gautier will come to mean everything to me. That particular thought doesn’t scare the shit out of me anymore.
I inhale, filling my lungs with the musky scent of the herbs burning in the fire. The room becomes stifling hot. Sweat beads between my shoulder blades and runs down my spine, soaking the waistband of my jeans. I struggle with the need to strip my clothes off. Elissa isn’t running a sweat lodge, so I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be happy if I sit here naked.
My head swirls, like I’ve been drinking several shots of whiskey or something. I lean harder against Gautier, glad he’s there to hold me up. Her voice drifts over me, teasing and tugging on my soul, trying to convince something in me to show itself.
“You can go get the box now, Father Gautier.”
I jerk as Elissa speaks from right beside me. When had she moved closer? Blinking, I focus when Gautier stands, taking my support with him. I start to push to my feet, but she keeps me sitting.
“He shouldn’t be carrying it by himself,” I mutter. “They don’t like him.”
“The priest is safe, Mr. Gilles. They can’t hurt him in my house.”
“Please call me T.A. Seems silly to be so formal when you’re hopefully going to save my life.” I smile at her.
She stares at me with solemn eyes for a moment before she nods. “We’ll be seeing a great deal of each other if you and Father Gautier continue to grow closer.”
I shudder. “I wish you wouldn’t call him Father. It makes me feel so guilty, like I’m corrupting him from his service or something.”
Her smile is bright and happy as she pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’ll not be going back to the priesthood, but he’ll always serve his God. Gautier has made peace with his choice to leave. You can’t corrupt him now that he’s honest with himself about whom he loves here on earth.”
A door slams in the distance, and we listen to the footsteps coming in our direction.
“Your mother’s spirit hangs around you. Do you think she will help if I need her?”
::Tell her I will do what I can.::
“She says she’ll help if she can.”
I look up as Gautier enters the room. I’m on my feet and moving across the room before he’s taken a couple of steps through the doorway. I barely touch the wicked red welt rising up across Gautier’s face.
“What happened?”
Gautier gives me a small smile and leans forward to press a light kiss on my lips. “Just a little dispute getting the box out of the trunk. I’m fine.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry, Gautier. I certainly didn’t plan on you getting hurt.” I cup his unmarred cheek.
“I involved myself in your life, Tabor. I had an idea of the danger before I even thought about approaching you. It might have started out as trying to find a way to free myself of my own ghost, but now I want you free as well.” Gautier nuzzles into my palm. “We need to get rid of the baggage before we move on with our relationship.”
“Do we have a relationship? What’s going on between us?”
A discreet cough draws us apart. Turning, we face Elissa, who purses her lips and holds out her hands.
“You can discuss everything afterward. I’ve built up my power and I’d like to use it before it disappears.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gautier turns the box over to Elissa.
She hisses as her skin touches it for the first time. “So much contained power and anger. I’m surprised you haven’t been drained completely already. It must’ve been the presence of your mother’s spirit that kept them from killing you.”
I ease close to Gautier, sighing silently as the man wraps his arms around my waist. Standing together, we absorb strength from each other while we watch Elissa set the box in the middle of a circle of salt. She crooks a finger at me, beckoning me to her.
“I need you to strip and lay down in the circle next to the box.”
Blushing, I do as she says. I’ve never been naked in front of a woman before, except when I was little and it didn’t count because the woman was my mother. You would think because I’m gay it wouldn’t matter, but I don’t like being nude with anyone else in the room. It will take me a little while to be comfortable letting Gautier see me without clothes.
“Gautier, I need you to kneel outside the circle, but as close as you can to T.A.”
The room seems to have gotten darker once the box entered. I drop to my back, staring up at the ceiling. Heat emanates from the box at my hip, and I want to push it away, but I keep my hands pressed to the wood under me. Turning my head slightly, I see Gautier kneeling next to me just outside the circle. Our eyes meet, and caring shines in his. I relax, somehow knowing Gautier will be beside me through all of it. Elissa moves around us as she sprinkles a bigger circle to surround us all.
::Are you still here?:: I send the question out to my mother.
::Yes, honey. I’ve always been with you, even when you didn’t think I was.::
Guilt eats at me for a second. ::I’m sorry. I guess I never realized what you were going through.::
::And I always thought I’d have more time to tell you everything you should know. Of course, I should’ve told you when you left for college, but I guess I didn’t want to ruin your fun. I know you didn’t enjoy growing up in our little town.::
::Maybe if you hadn’t told everyone you were a witch and were bespelled the night you conceived me, they might have looked at me differently. I was the crazy lady’s bastard son.:: My bitterness laces my words.
The sigh in my head makes my guilt spike again.

::I’m sorry, Mother. You did the best you could with what you had. I should be glad you didn’t give me up. I’m not sure I’d have done well in foster care.::

Elissa returns to stand next to Gautier. Her eyes glow from the power she’s been drawing into her core.
“I can see the ties binding you and the spirits together, T.A. Be prepared for a fight after I cut the first one. They aren’t going to give you up easily. Gautier, I want you to do what you do best— pray. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”
I roll my eyes, understanding what she says, but wishing she didn’t have to be so dramatic. Of course, it is an issue of life and death. If the ghosts aren’t sent on to their afterlife reward, I’ll be drained of energy and die myself. Even though my life has kind of sucked up until now, I’m not ready to die. Hell, things are looking up since Gautier’s arrived.
“All right. I’m going to start the casting. Please, don’t talk. It’s going to take a great deal of concentration for me to break the ties. I can’t be distracted.”
I almost suggest putting a gag on me, but doubt anyone would find it funny. Wiggling around to find the most comfortable spot, I feel a hand on my shoulder. After settling, I roll my head to the side and see Gautier smiling at me.
“We’ll get through this without a problem, Tabor. Then we’ll figure out what’s going on between us.”
There isn’t anything I can say to his statement, so I simply nod my head. I close my eyes and try to breath normally. I don’t like not seeing what’s going on, but I decide it might be better for me if I don’t know. This way I can refrain from commenting.
Elissa’s chanting starts soft and gains in volume, but I can’t make out what she’s saying because of the rushing in my head. Too many voices talking at once, almost like they’re arguing. Pressure builds and my back arches off the floor as something takes hold of my arms and legs to pull like they are playing tug-ofwar with my body. I bite my lip, remembering Elissa’s order not to say anything just in time. I really don’t want her to lose concentration because something tells me if she did so, I’d be scattered in little pieces all over her room.
“No!”
I jerk and open my eyes to look around the room. Who shouted? Gautier stares at me, horror gleaming in his gaze. Am I the one who yelled? My face contorts in ways I know it shouldn’t and pain shoots through me.
“You can’t make us leave. We were promised this body and spirit. It is our right to use it as we wish. That is the vow made by the witches who placed us in the box.”
“It was wrong of them to punish you for the pain you caused.” Elissa’s voice echoes with power and authority. “You must be released to face your judgment from God, not from those who suffered here by your hand.”
“They proved us right when they used their evil magic to bind us to this box. We were right to accuse them of fraternizing with the devil. Why should we release our hold on this one? He is the sacrifice we demanded when we were cursed.”
I want to scream from the fiery pain coursing just under my skin, but the boss spirit has my mouth firmly under his control. My hands clench and unclench in rhythm with the pounding of my heart. My vision blurs as I whimper, swallowing back the vomit as my skin splits along a long, thin line over my heart.
“Stop,” Elissa commands. “You’ve done enough damage to him. No more harm shall come to this one. He’s under my protection now.”
“Fuck!” I cry out when my arms are yanked again like someone is trying to pull me apart.
Gautier’s eyes fill with tears, and I see him tremble, somehow finding the strength not to break the circle and touch me. Liquid spills from my eyes and metallic flavor fills my mouth from biting my tongue to keep from screaming more.
Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, my right arm drops to the floor as she cuts the invisible ties binding it to the spirits in the box. An inhuman cry ricochets around the room before fading.
“You are released. Go to your eternal reward or damnation. It’s not for us earthly beings to determine what will be meted out to you.” Elissa holds a pair of scissors that she uses to metaphorically cut the second tie, allowing my other arm to hit the floor.
You would think the pain would lessen with each spirit leaving me, yet as they leave, the others struggle more and fight harder to stay with me.
“Tabor, fight them. Don’t allow them to take more of you than they already have. Think of things to hold you to this earth. Your job and friends. Your lover.”
I’m not sure I want to open Gautier up for attack from the spirits since they’ve proven they have no problem hurting him when they think he threatens their existence. Yet I can feel them dragging me under. They’re draining me, and my eyelids grew heavy.
“Don’t you let them win, Tabor Augustus. I love you and I’m not going to let you go without a fight.”
My eyes pop open and I meet Gautier’s fierce gaze. He’s glaring at me like he knows what I’m thinking.
“It doesn’t matter if they try to hurt me. I’ll do anything, endure anything to keep them from killing you.”
Shivers skate down my spine and I nod, hearing the truth in Gautier’s words. My words stick in my throat and before I can force anything out, my mind splinters. Pain shoots over my nerves, and I whimper. The remaining entities aren’t going quietly. They drain my energy until it’s all I can do to stay conscious. Yet I’m slowly slipping into the blackness. I hear Gautier yelling at me, but there’s no way I can acknowledge him or even think about moving. All sound disappears as I sink under the wave of darkness.
“Open your eyes.”
I shake my head, not wanting to see what might be in front of me.
“Tabor Augustus, you listen to your mother. Open your eyes.”
My mother? My eyes pop open and I see her standing above me, staring down at me with a frown on her face.
“Mother?”
“Yes. Sit up and take my hand.”
I do as she says, sitting and taking the hand she offers me. Surge after surge of energy ripple through me. She begins to fade, and I try to yank my hand away, but she’s got a grip on me like a vise.
“This is the only way I can help you, Tabor. I’ll give you all I have to help you survive this. I won’t be able to stay after this. I love you, Tabor. I’m sorry I never told you enough while I was alive.” Her voice is full of regret.
“You did the best you could. I’ll admit I was a little bitter, but I’ve gotten over it. You don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to leave me.”
“I’m already gone, Tabor. This is the only way I can help you. You have a chance at love. Something I never did. Don’t let him get away, but don’t make the same mistake I did. Don’t accept being someone’s little secret.”
Giving in, I don’t fight the transfer of her spirit into me. “Gautier loves me and he’d never deny me or what I mean to him.”
I believe those words in my heart. We had some more talking to do, and we need to spend more time getting to know each other, but I know I’m falling in love with him. Crazy, considering we just met two days ago. Yet I can’t imagine my life without him anymore.
“I’m glad I could get to see the man you love.”
She leans forward and brushes a faint kiss over my forehead. I swallow hard, but don’t protest as she slowly fades away. I blink as my vision blurs. When it clears, I’m looking into the blue eyes of Gautier.
“Tabor, are you okay?”
Shrugging, I inventory all my aches and pains. “I think so.”
“Good.”
Elissa shifts, catching my attention. “Tabor, I need your help. I’ve released all of the spirits, but one. He’s the strongest and he isn’t going to go without a fight. While we engage him from this plane, I need you to look inside and try to shove him out. I assume he was the most powerful in life, so he’s going to be difficult to get rid of.”
“Okay. I’ll do what I can to help out.” I breathe in deeply and meet Gautier’s gaze. “I love you. Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe not, but I can’t keep quiet about it. In case something happens to me, I wanted you to know how I feel.”
Gautier reaches out, but he doesn’t break the circle or touch me, seeming to remember Elissa’s warning. “I love you, Tabor Augustus, and when this is all over, I’ll show you just how much.”
I nod and close my eyes, focusing on the presence I can feel in my mind. I slowly apply pressure, visualizing my hands on his chest, shoving him back.
::No, you won’t make me leave. You were promised to me.::
::Don’t you want to go to heaven or see those you loved again? Why cling to a world you can’t be a part of again? I’m the last one of my family. Even if you take all my energy, there’ll be nothing after I’m gone.::
The wall I’m pushing against wavers slightly, but I’m not sure if it’s my words or the sudden appearance of Elissa and Gautier’s efforts from the outside weakening him. Could their combined effort work on getting rid of the stubborn spirit? For the first time, I begin to believe we can end it.
::Do you really think there is forgiveness for what I did? It’s why your ancestors sought revenge on me. To be honest, my tie to you isn’t a promise. It’s a curse to ensure I never go to the after life, just in case I am allowed into heaven.::
::It wasn’t their place to pass judgment on you. Only one person can do that and I want you to go face Him. You never know what might happen. No matter what, I don’t want you here with me anymore.::
I use a little more force and there’s a little more give in his stance. I’m finished talking. I simply want him out of my life and our connection severed. I don’t care what happens to him as long as he’s gone.
Each small movement takes more of my strength and I’m worried I’ll use up too much of it before he’s gone. Yet I feel Elissa and Gautier working as well. As the last bit of my strength disappears and I sink into oblivion, I hear a heartrending screech. * * *

“Tabor. Tabor, are you okay?”

Hands grip my shoulders and shake me. I wave my hands, trying to stop the movement. My head pounds and my stomach roils as nausea crashes through me. I cough and moan.

“Gautier, take him into the other room and put him in bed. I’ll clean up here. Be gentle with him. He’ll be very tired for a day or two. Tabor used up a great deal of energy to exorcise his spirits.”

Gautier? Is that who’s holding me gently in his arms? Burying my face in the base of this throat, I breathe in his sweaty scent and every inch of me relaxes. He carries me into another room and lays me on a soft surface. I roll over as he sits next to me and snuggle closer to him.

“Tabor, are you awake?”
I force open my eyes and meet his gaze. “What happened?” “You passed out while we were fighting the spirit. I think you

used all your energy getting rid of him, so you lost consciousness.” “How long was I out?”
“Only a few minutes, so I’m not too worried about it.” I push up to lean against the pillows. “Did it work? Did Elissa

release the spirits? Am I free?”

Gautier smiles and the joy in his expression rocks me. I reach for him, wrapping my hands around his arms, and yank him to me. Our lips crash together, and he moans. Soon our tongues duel and stroke, building the passion flaring between us. I break away from him when my lungs burn. Dropping back, my chest heaving, I let my hand rest on his chest to feel his racing heartbeat.

“I no longer have to worry about spirits draining me dry for my energy. I don’t have to hide any more. I won’t hear voices and worry about talking out loud to them.”

His laughter warms me, and I join in, leaning toward him again. He embraces me and we lie on the bed, kissing and touching.

I let Gautier lead the way, savoring his hands on my body. Thank God, I’m still naked, and he strips quickly, proving how eager he is to explore me. He spreads my legs before settling between them. I run my fingers through his hair, shivering as he nuzzles my erection. Gautier winks up at me as he wraps his lips around my cock and swallows me.

“Holy shit!” I arch off the bed, overwhelmed by the moist warmth surrounding me.
He pins me to the bed, not allowing me to move while he treats me like his very own personal Popsicle. All I can do is groan and twist my hands in the sheets. Each suck tugs me closer to my climax, but I want to him to fuck me. I need to come, yet not without him being inside me. He swirls his tongue around my head, dipping inside the slit with each pass, drinking from me without hesitation or worry.
When Gautier reaches up and places his fingers on my lips, I know what he wants. We didn’t come prepared for this and we have to use what we’ve got. Pulling my lips from his fingers, I say, “Wait. We don’t have a condom.”
“I have one in my pocket.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Were you a Boy Scout as well as a priest?”
“Never know when it might be needed.” Gautier leers at me as he presses his fingers against my hole.
I let my head drop back on the pillow as I tilt my hips slightly to give him better access to my opening. He eases in, drawing a low groan from me and his fingers sink in deep. With a twist of his hand, he rubs his knuckles over my gland and electricity shoots through me.
The burn turns into pleasure and I begin to ride his fingers, letting them stretch me until I need more.
“Please, Gautier, take me now. I need more.”
He pulls away, and I whimper from the loss. Rustling dances in my ear until he returns and positions his cock at my hole. Gautier meets my gaze as he pushes in.
“I love you, Tabor Augustus. Together, we can take on the world.”
I sit up, burying him deep inside me as I bring our lips together. After a fierce embrace, I break away and fall back, clenching my muscles to encourage him to move.
“I love you as well, Gautier Molyneux. Fuck me until I feel you for days.”
He takes me at my word and begins slamming into me. Our grunts fill the air, along with the scent of sweat and sex. My climax tingles along my spine and pools in my balls, bringing them tighter to my body. Spots swim before my eyes as I come hard. Hot ropes of cum paint my stomach as I spill. Gautier rocks and rides me until he thrusts deep and freezes as he floods his condom.
Gautier collapses on me, and I encircle him with my arms, tugging him closer. We rest and wait until our heartbeats calm down. When he finally moves, he climbs off and stumbles to the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth to wipe me down. He takes the cloth back to the other room and returns, snuggling with me under the blankets.
I close my eyes, absorbing his presence and, for the first time, I’m not worried about voices in my head or ghosts…because they’re gone. I’m free to live my life the way I choose and maybe next Halloween I’ll hand out candy to the kids instead of locking myself inside.
We fall asleep, accepting this night as the first of thousands of nights of not worrying about what’s hiding under my bed.

T. A. CHASE

T. A. Chase lives a life without boundaries. Being fascinated by life and how different we all are, she writes about the things that make us unique. She finds beauty in all kinds of love and enjoys sharing those insights. She lives in the Midwest with his partner of fourteen years. When she isn’t writing, she’s watching movies, reading and living life to the fullest.

* * *

Don’t miss Revealing The Past by T. A. Chase,
available at AmberAllure.com!

Geoff DuPuis is an American archaeologist in search of evidence of the ancient settlement on Poveglia Island in Venice, Italy. He doesn’t care about the stories of ghosts, or the legends of the tragic events that took place on the island. He’s only interested in that one small section of time.

When Geoff meets Dr. Enzio di Salvatore, his guide to the island, he thinks maybe he could investigate something else, like every inch of that Italian stud. Little does he know, though, Enzio has a history with the spirits on the island and they demand their due. Geoff may discover that dealing with angry spirits might end up being easier than falling in love…

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