Broken Heart 09 Only Lycans Need Apply(30)

I glanced at Damian. “Um . . . does she hear voices? You know, inside her head?”

“She can see and talk to spirits,” he explained.

“Yeah,” offered Patsy in a grumpy voice, “and they won’t leave me alone.”

“Can you see . . . er, the ghost who haunts here?” asked Dove. Her gaze skittered toward mine.

Patsy looked around. “I only see Dottie and Camdon—he’s the banshee. He’s not technically a ghost . . . more like a creature who screams like a preteen at a One Direction concert. Although he was human once. Or something. I have a hard time keeping all this paranormal shit straight.”

“Are you sure?” asked Dove. “Because this building is supposed to be haunted. Screaming is reported all the time.”

Patsy paused, took a breath, and then closed her eyes. After a moment, her eyes popped open and she said, “No one’s answering. So, no spirits are here, or they’re ignoring me—and it’s really hard to ignore me.”

“My mother was murdered in this building,” I said faintly. My mother’s spirit wasn’t here after all. I couldn’t bear the thought of her trapped here, in the place where she died, unable to move on. I wobbled, or maybe the world tilted on its axis, and I felt the steady hand of Drake slide under my arm to keep me standing upright.

“Oh, shit,” said Patsy. “I’m sorry. Some spirits just move on. She probably didn’t stick around after . . . well, after.”

My stomach clenched. I sure as hell didn’t want anyone, much less people who weren’t exactly people, to know more about my past than I did. I kept a tight lid on my past, which was necessary. It’s why I took meds. Why I had to refuse to open the door to my mother’s unsolved murder. Well, at least I didn’t have to do a powwow with my murdered mother. That felt far too much like I was going to therapy and dealing with my issues.

Still, my heart did a slow, painful turn.

Oh, Mom.

“We should go.”

It wasn’t like Dove and I had agreed to go, but . . . all the same, I knew we would. Gabriel led the way, holding his wife’s hand and guiding her through the chaos of desks, chairs, and tables. Dove followed, and I went after her, and Drake was the caboose on our strange train.

A long, low moan drifted down the hallway, and lights began to flash.

“Gah!” cried Dove. She tottered on her shoes, and Gabriel reached back and grabbed her arm.

“It’s the banshee,” said Patsy. “He’s making sure he’s expelled all the vampire energy. And I think he’s digging the idea of haunting a new place for a while.”

It didn’t take long to traverse the darkened hall. Thank God for that, because the noise and strange lights were getting louder and brighter. We finally made it out of the main doors of the building. I was glad, too, because being in that building gave me the shivers. I hadn’t wanted to believe that my mother was a ghost. That she’d been trapped in that building or, worse, chosen to stay on the earthly plane. I wasn’t sure how the afterlife worked. I knew what the ancient Egyptians believed, but I’d never quite figured out my own beliefs about the soul.

But why not, right? I was standing in the company of vampires listening to a banshee wail.

You know, it’s no wonder I’m a little nuts.

Dove looked over her shoulder at the building where the moans echoed and shuddered. Her gaze was torn between terror and awe.

I had avoided Building A, ignored the whispered tales of the screaming woman, and generally tried to pretend my past wasn’t sitting inside it labeled, “This Is the Moment Moira’s Life Changed Forever.” Yes, my life changed, but my mother’s had ended.

I couldn’t bear it, and I felt a touch on my arm.

“Are you all right?” asked Drake in hushed concern.

“Not really,” I said. “But that’s okay.”

“I’m very sorry about your mother,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” I said.

He nodded, his gaze on mine, and I felt something there, hovering between us like silence and hope and desire. It was an odd moment, which was broken when Drake squeezed my shoulder and then headed down the stairs.

A man who looked exactly like Gabriel waited at the bottom of the concrete steps. I jolted. Twins? After all the events of the evening, discovering that Gabriel had an identical twin shouldn’t have been a big surprise.

“Ren, this is Dr. Moira Jameson, and that’s Dove.” Patsy waved toward the man. “This is Ren Marchand.”

He inclined his head. Then he took in Dove’s shoes. One white eyebrow rose, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned to Patsy and asked, “Everyone else has returned to Broken Heart. Are you ready?”