Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
D ash looked in the bathroom mirror and didn’t recognize the nervous person looking back at him. He’d hooked up many times when he lived in the city. Most nights when he’d been in the mood, he’d had little trouble finding a willing partner. He hadn’t been a man-whore, but he wasn’t a choir boy either.
Sleeping with Slate felt different. Slate was different. This wasn’t a hook-up or even a friends-with-benefits situation. They hadn’t said as much, but the way Slate had treated him the last five days made that point clear even to a hook-ups only guy like Dash.
“I want more too,” Dash whispered to his reflection.
Those four words terrified him. More led to a broken heart. At least that was Dash’s experience.
He shut the light and retraced the steps he’d taken with Slate. He might’ve seen a hint of disappointment in Slate’s eye when Dash told him he needed to go to the guest room. Once he explained all his things were there, Slate perked up. If this became a permanent arrangement, he’d move his stuff, but first they needed to get this one under their belt.
The door was open, but he didn’t see Slate. Knocking, he waited outside for an answer. Slate stepped out from a door, his toothbrush still in his mouth. Waving for Dash to come in, he pointed to his mouth.
“Got it,” Dash said. “Go finish.”
The room was almost as big as Dash’s entire apartment. It might be the same size given Dash lived in a converted Victorian house. Long drapes covered the windows, and the large four-posted king bed looked small against one wall. Slate had two chairs positioned near the window opposite the door.
Dash wasn’t sure what to do, so he walked around looking at the furnishings. The pictures on the wall were mostly photos of Slate and what he presumed was Slate and his family. He had two siblings, both looked to be older sisters. There were shots of Slate in high school, with Liv in many of them, and some that appeared to be of him in college.
He hadn’t known Slate went to college, a reminder they didn’t know each other very well yet. Dash wasn’t upset, because he had things he’d never told Slate. Some of those he planned to have tonight before things went any further. Slate deserved to know what he was getting into before things went any further.
“That was my graduation from Cornell,” Slate said.
Slate wore a tee shirt and pajama bottoms just like he had every morning since Dash arrived. It felt different seeing Slate in his bedroom, ready for bed. The shirt clung tighter to his chest, and the bottoms showed off his ass in a way Dash hadn’t appreciated before.
“What did you study?”
“Architecture,” he said with a rueful laugh. “I didn’t think I’d be the one to get the gift or curse as I think of it. My plan was to design and build houses like they did once, not these prefab cookie cutter ones we see pop up all the time.”
Put that way, the ability was a curse if it stole Slate’s dream. “Maybe once this moon is over you can follow your dream.”
“Hopefully.” The way Slate answered told Dash it wasn’t likely to happen.
Without thinking, Dash reached for Slate and pulled him into a hug. He ached a bit that someone as kind and decent as Slate had to give up his dream because of a distant ancestor’s mistake.
After a few seconds, Dash realized he’d gotten a hard-on. The hug hadn’t been meant to be sexual, but Slate was in a similar state. They remained still for a few more seconds before Slate planted a soft kiss to Dash’s neck.
The ice broken, Dash lifted his head off of Slate’s shoulder and kissed Slate on the lips. The soft peck turned into Slate pressing his tongue against the crease of Dash’s lips. Dash granted the entry requested and cupped the back of Slate’s head to pull him closer.
Focused on the way Slate kissed, Dash barely realized they were moving until the back of his legs hit the side of the bed. They separated long enough for them to climb on. Once settled, Slate rolled on top of Dash, pinning him to the mattress with his weight.
“Like being in control, do you?” Dash asked in a husky whisper.
“Sometimes,” Slate said, with a lascivious look on his face. “What about you?”
“I like everything, in charge, submissive, whatever works.”
“I’m actually the same, but right now, I like this position.”
Before Dash could agree, Slate crushed his mouth against Dash’s. This time there was no asking. Slate pushed his tongue inside and took what he wanted. Dash wrapped his arms around Slate’s back, pulling him deeper into the kiss.
The intensity of the connection grew as their breaths mingled. A swell of emotion built inside Dash as the warmth of Slate’s body enveloped him. Slate grinded against him, creating friction against Dash’s cock trapped between them.
Slate slid a hand inside Dash’s shirt and ran his hand across Dash’s chest. Ready to give Slate whatever he wanted, Dash paused as the secrets he’d withheld pushed their way forward. It surprised him, because he’d never worried about such things when he’d hooked up before. Slate, however, was different. He deserved the truth, because Dash wouldn’t hurt Slate.
Pulling away took a monumental effort, but he finally broke the kiss and rolled Slate onto his back. Slate smiled up at him expectedly, but Dash slid onto his side.
Slate looked at him with a mix of desire and confusion. "What’s wrong, Dash?"
Dash hated that he’d let things get anywhere before having this talk, but he wasn’t going any farther until he gave Slate the truth. “I like you, Slate, but before we do anything, you should know two things about me. They will probably change how you look at me, and if you want me to go home, I won’t be mad at you.”
“I can’t believe there’s anything that will change how I feel about you.”
Slate reached for him but Dash shook his head. This was one of the reasons Dash avoided relationships. They were hard, and they exposed his most vulnerable sides. “Hear me out first, please?”
“Fine, but don’t expect me to change my mind.”
Dash would have snorted, but he worried it would insult Slate. “The two things are related, but they might evoke different reactions. I know we didn’t talk about safety and past partners, but I want to tell you my past. First, I’ve always been safe, and I was tested before I moved. I wasn’t sure there was a place to do it here, and I wanted to begin fresh.”
“The medical practice in town doesn’t judge,” Slate said. “I get tested every six months.”
Good information for the future assuming he stayed. If things went to shit with Slate, Dash would look for a new job and be gone before the end of the year. “I mentioned that first because I’ve had a lot of partners in my life. I’ve never counted, but I’d guess at least seventy-five. Maybe more. I never thought of myself as slutty, but when I was thinking about how to tell you about my past, I realized you’d probably see me that way.”
Dash paused and watched for a reaction. At first Slate just lay silent as if waiting for more. When it was clear Dash had finished, Slate laughed softly. “You’re worried about that? Did you think I was pure and chaste?”
Slate’s response lightened Dash’s guilt a little. “No, but there is a big difference between the city and Oriskany Falls.”
“Yes, but I went to a major university and Grindr and other apps work out here,” Slate tentatively put his hand forward and Dash didn’t pull away. “The number of guys I’ve slept with is less than seventy-five, but it’s high enough I can’t count or remember all of them. If that’s what you’re worried about, forget it. And for the record, I wasn’t always safe when I was in college, but for the last five years I have been and I was lucky enough not to have caught anything that penicillin wouldn’t cure.”
Dash cringed at the memory of the shot in the ass when someone he hooked up with messaged him to say he had syphilis. “There’s a second thing, and it’s worse than the first. Much worse.”
Slate rubbed his thumb over the back of Dash’s hand, but didn’t prod Dash to continue. Gathering his courage, Dash fixed his gaze on Slate.
Dash took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his memories settle around him. It was time to be honest, time to share the past he’d carried with him for so long. He turned slightly, ensuring they were both comfortable in their intimate space, then began to speak.
“My parents divorced when I was twelve. It was… ugly. When I was little, I thought they were perfect. Even when things changed, I didn’t notice at first.” Dash paused, fighting back the urge to curl up and forget it had happened. “Mom said after I was born, Dad treated her like someone he lived with and not his wife. Dad said he never stopped loving her, but his career took up more of his time, and me and my sister had things they needed to take us to practically every day. Typical family stuff, but Mom faded into the background of his life.”
Slate listened silently, concern written on his face as he squeezed Dash’s hand. Encouraged by the support, Dash pressed on. “Mom changed too. She spent less time with us, and the time she gave was rarely fun. Everything set her off. When I was older I realized Dad ignoring her made her feel ugly and unwanted. Throw in Dad was a tightwad, and her life wasn’t that great.”
“I thought you said your Dad’s career was going well,” Slate asked softly.
Dash wished his parent’s explanations were as simple and accurate as they believed. “My family has money. It’s all in a trust, but Dad didn’t need to work. He liked his job and wanted to move up the corporate ladder. Being cheap was Dad’s way to control Mom.
“Eventually, Mom had enough, and she cheated. I don't know if it was about sex for her, but the guy made her feel better about herself. The guy she had the affair with treated her well and made her feel desirable again.” Dash shook his head. “He was a bigger jerk than Dad. He thought Mom’s family was rich, and when he realized he slept with the wrong spouse he not only dumped her, but sent Dad a copy of their texts and emails. For deceiving him he said.”
“He sounds like an asshole,” Slate said.
“He was. I’d blame him for destroying my family, but Mom and Dad were the real reason it broke up.” Remembering things in such detail made Dash’s chest hurt. “Dad was livid. My older sister and I heard them screaming at each other through the walls. He called her these awful names I don’t want to repeat. Mom was mad too. She blamed him for everything, saying if he wasn’t such a horrible husband and father this never would’ve happened. They both believed they were right and the other person was the villain.”
Dash glanced at Slate to gauge his reaction, but all he saw was concern. “Their divorce was acrimonious. They tried using us kids against each other as leverage. I was constantly caught in the crossfire, hearing them tell us, ‘Don’t tell your father,’ or ‘I wouldn’t get your mother anything for her birthday because she doesn’t care about you anyway.’ It was exhausting.”
Dash gulped as the memories rehashed themselves; he still felt the residual weight of that turmoil. “They both moved on quickly after the divorce. My sister and I were subjected to a parade of boyfriends and girlfriends, none of whom lasted long. Now they’re both miserable people, still clinging to how they were wronged by their spouse.”
Silence hung between them and Dash avoided looking at Slate. “Watching how they treated each other during and after the breakup, I saw up close the collateral damage of love gone wrong. It terrifies me I’ll do that to you. I don’t want to become the horrible person they are today.”
Slate’s grip tightened around Dash’s hand and he pulled Dash closer. Turning Dash around, Slate became the big spoon to Dash’s little. “You have a choice, Dash. You can be better than them. Believe in yourself.”
Wrapped in Slate’s embrace, Dash felt safer than he could remember “I told you this because I want to see where things can go between us. You deserve to know the baggage I come with. Like I said, if you want me to leave, I won’t be angry with you.”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“No.” Dash pulled Slate’s arm tighter around him. “I want you to take a chance on me, but I couldn’t ask that of you unless I told you the truth.”
Slate squeezed him tighter and kissed the back of Dash’s neck. “Thank you for telling me. I want you to stay right where you are. Communication between two people is essential, and you’re already miles better than your parents.”
Relieved to have shared his past with Slate, Dash closed his eyes and appreciated being with someone. In the past, he used quiet time to plan his departure. Now, he used it to plan how to stay with Slate.
D ash woke up, warm and content. When he moved, the arm around him moved. His eyes widened when he realized where he was and who was hugging him.
“Good morning,” Slate said. “I hope you slept as well as I did.”
Sleep. Dash had fallen asleep on Slate. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“What are you sorry for?”
He tried to move, but Slate held him in place. “I fell asleep on you. We were…. You must think…. That wasn’t what I’d planned for last night.”
“I thought it was kinda perfect.” Slate pulled Dash closer, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “We’ll have time to do more another night.”
Dash was stuck in his old mindset. The night before wasn’t a one and done. If he and Slate were going to seriously date, Dash needed to believe there would be more nights. He twisted until he faced Slate. “Sounds wonderful to me, but right now, I really need to pee.”
Slate laughed. “Some romantic you’re turning out to be.” He kissed Dash before letting him go. “We should get up anyway. I’ll make us something to eat.”
D ash put off reading the book until after breakfast. Then he decided to wait until after he showered. Now he had it in his backpack and wasn’t going to read it until he and Slate met up with Liv. She was meeting them in a few minutes and then Dash would be out of excuses.
He could be forgiven wanting to hold off reading Ezra Reeve’s book. Slate had made pancakes and they cleaned up the mess together. The entire morning reeked of domestic bliss and Dash wanted to extend the moment as long as possible.
Unfortunately, the good vibe was about to end.
The weight of Ezra’s book felt heavier the closer they got to the library. As they walked down Main Street, Dash noticed strange occurrences that he might have dismissed before. A flock of crows took flight suddenly, their cries eerily synchronized, forming a dark, writhing cloud against the sky. The air seemed to shimmer in places, like heat waves on a summer day, but the temperature was barely above freezing. Even the carved faces of the Jack-o’-lanterns looked more ominous than the night before.
Townspeople hurried about their business, and Dash overheard snippets of conversation as they passed.
“Did you see those weird lights last night? Like the northern lights, but... wrong somehow.”
“My grandma swears she saw a ghost in her kitchen this morning. Looked just like her long-dead husband.”
As they approached an intersection, all the clocks in the nearby shops suddenly chimed in unison, despite showing different times. A chill ran down Dash's spine as he realized the sound was forming a discordant melody, one that seemed to whisper words just beyond his understanding.
Dash looked at Slate, seeing his own concern mirrored in his friend's eyes. He’d clearly gotten involved in something way over his head. He was a coder – a software engineer – not a ghostbuster.
Slate squeezed Dash's hand. The warmth took the edge off of Dash’s concerns. He needed to stay calm, because the future was going to come no matter how much he worried.
Liv met them at the steps of the library. Dash showed her the book and her eyes opened wider. No surprise. This was a newly discovered piece of Oriskany Falls’ history, and the town’s self-appointed historian couldn’t wait to read it.
“Where did you find this?” she said, holding the book like it was a sacred relic.
“There’s a hidden door in the back of the equipment room,” Slate said. “Which is crazy because how many times did we look for one in that room?”
“I keep telling you, this is beyond us,” Liv said. “Esmerelda must not have wanted anyone to find the room unless a descendant of Ezra Reeves was present.”
Dash didn’t like how supernatural beings kept interfering in his life. “Yeah and apparently, I'm supposed to use it to save the town or something.”
“You read it already?” Liv asked sounding disappointed.
“No,” Dash said, pretending to frown as he looked at Slate. “I wanted to, but told he told me to wait until we met you.”
“Context, Dash. You need to give her context,” Slate pointed toward the doors to the library. “I said we should probably wait until we saw you because we might misinterpret something and get upset for no reason.”
Dash rolled his eyes dramatically. “My way sounded better.”
Liv swung her gaze from Slate to Dash and back a few times. “You two are like a married… Oh my! You slept together, didn’t you?”
Dash’s face burned as he looked around to see if anyone heard her. Slate’s face was also red, but he glared at Liv.
“It’s bad enough we have Mrs. Finch to tell everyone’s business to the town. You don’t need to shout it to the four winds.”
“Sorry.” To her credit, Liv looked and sounded contrite. “I’m just excited for you both.”
In theory he knew people in small towns knew everyone else’s business, but part of him had hoped some things could remain private. Clearly, that was too much to wish for. “Can we please go inside? At least there she’ll keep her voice down out of respect for the books.”
Liv clutched the book to her chest as they walked to a secluded spot in the library. Dash expected she’d give him back the book since it was addressed to him, but she didn’t. Slate and Dash sat quietly as Liv flipped pages and scribbled notes furiously.
After twenty minutes, she set her pen down. “This clears up a few mysteries.” She pointed to chairs on either side of her, and the guys book ended her as she turned back to the first page.
“Ezra and Esmerelda were good friends, and they were also both mediums. Now, mediums are rare, but having two in one place is incredibly rare. Esmerelda theorized that with the two of them, they could do more than just comfort the lingering souls who never passed on. She believed they could open the veil and help souls move on. Ezra didn’t like the idea, but he agreed to help.
“Together they managed to part the veil and souls left, just as Esmerelda hoped. Then, a malevolent soul tried to come from the other side to ours. It tried to possess Ezra, but with Esmerelda’s help, they banished and closed the opening. The incident left Ezra scarred and he told Esmerelda they shouldn’t do it again. Esmerelda tried to convince him the work was too important to abandon. She believed they could take necessary precautions, but he refused to help.”
“Ezra wrote down his thoughts on the veil and how any opening weakened the barrier. He also believed that if a spirit managed to pass from the other side to ours, it could cause a permanent opening that might be impossible to close. If that happened spirits would flood our world. The final entry is from early October 1925. First he mentioned his belief the veil is weakest during a Blue Moon, and how one medium might be able to open a rift on such a night. He noted October 31, 1925, would be a blue moon. He was worried Esmerelda might try again because the next one wouldn’t be until August 31, 1928. He ended by saying time was running out, but his newborn son had been colicky, and he hadn’t had time to warn Esmerelda not to try again.”
Liv turned the page and Dash tapped the book. “The handwriting is different.”
“Good eye,” Liv said. “Esmerelda wrote the last pages. She also confirmed the veil was weaker during a Blue Moon, and she tried on Halloween, 1925. Like the last time, an evil spirit tried to use the opening. She was struggling to keep it away when Ezra appeared. He called her a pig headed fool who couldn’t leave well enough alone. Stepping in front of her, he dropped his book and walked into the breach. She heard a horrible scream, and then the rift closed.”
Dash sat back and considered what she’d said. “My great-great grandfather sacrificed himself to close the breach.”
“Yes,” Liv said turning to a new page. “Esmerelda realized after reading his book that he did it to save his family.”
She skipped ahead a few pages. “The rest of the entries are from Esmerelda. She spent years trying to bring Ezra back, but realized she couldn’t. Her studies of the veil revealed that what she did had weakened the curtain between worlds and the malicious spirits were trying to break through. She believed that if someone from her line could work with another medium, together, they could undo the damage she’d done.”
“Which explains the foundation and the search,” Slate said.
“I’d need to do more research, but I think you’re right,” Liv said closing the book. “I’d even bet EcoCode and other Blackwood funded companies have been searching for a medium to pair with one in their family for the last century.
“And I’m the lucky winner,” Dash said. After he spoke, he realized how Slate might interpret his comment. “Then again, I guess I am lucky. It introduced me to Slate.”
Slate’s smile looked forced, and Dash could figure out what he was thinking.
“Good point,” Liv said, oblivious to Slate’s unease. “Now we need to figure out how you seal the breach.”
Dash was certain it was going to be harder than she made it sound.