Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Bennett
T he premonition rolled down my spine a split second before I heard the screeching tires.
My senses were sharper than any human’s, and I realized what was about to happen before it occurred. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to let it.
As the hydroplaning car careened towards us, my primal instincts seized me. All my doubt and worry over my barghest form flew out the window. The only thing on my mind was protecting Peter. His safety was worth any price.
My barghest escaped from my human flesh, bursting free with a vengeance. I slammed my powerful paws into the side of the car. It jerked to an abrupt halt as the metal crumpled beneath my claws. I hoped I hadn’t rattled the driver inside too badly.
I breathed hard through rows of white fangs. I felt something in my fur, but I was too focused on stopping the car to notice what it was immediately.
Was Peter safe?
I peeled my massive form away from the dented car and turned around. Peter was flat on his ass on the sidewalk, panting from the adrenaline rush, his blue eyes wide.
My stomach dropped as reality set back in. Peter was out of harm’s way—but now he knew the truth about my identity. About what I was.
Was he still afraid of me?
Before the bystanders swarmed in, I took stock of the scene. As if by a miracle, I noticed a thick telephone pole behind me. I gave it a quick dent with my paw. That would explain why the car had stopped abruptly, given that nobody except Peter could see me. Only he would know the truth.
I wanted to speak with Peter, but I didn’t get a chance. Bystanders swarmed in to make sure he and the driver were all right.
I stood off to the side, watching as kind strangers helped Peter to his feet and called an ambulance for the driver. The damage wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. He was able to get out of the car safely, and apologized profusely to Peter.
I couldn’t stand the distance between us. I padded closer on my large paws, phasing through the crowd until I towered over Peter. His round eyes met mine. I noticed, with a skip of my heart, that there was no more fear in them.
Does that mean he accepts me...?
Peter dusted himself off and thanked everyone for their help. As the excitement died down and the crowd slowly dispersed, he stared at me like I was the only other being in existence.
“Bennett,” he murmured. “That’s you, isn’t it?”
A shiver rippled across my ghostly pelt.
“Yes,” I said, my voice deep and coarse in this form.
Peter was silent for a moment. He must’ve been shaken by the near-accident. He reached down to pick up my discarded umbrella, shook off the rain, and raised it above our heads.
“Let’s keep walking,” he said quietly.
I followed him down the street towards his apartment. My barghest form was more convenient in most ways—I didn’t need to move out of the way on the sidewalk, or even worry about the rain in my fur. But I also couldn’t put my hand around Peter’s waist, or hold the umbrella for him.
I could, however, smell him much better. And fuck, he smelled good.
Peter kept glancing over at me, as if to reassure himself I was still beside him. I remained taller, regardless of being four-legged now, so he still had to gaze up at me.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh... you’re the ghost dog I saw earlier?”
No point in denying it now.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
Peter stopped and furrowed his brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he squeaked, sounding more baffled than annoyed.
I blinked, then chuckled throatily. “You were afraid of me, remember?”
“I mean—yeah, but—if I knew it was you , it would have been different!”
As people walked past us, they shot confused glances at Peter. To everyone else, it looked like he was ranting and raving to thin air.
In a way, it felt intimate that only Peter could see me.
“I didn’t know with certainty you’d feel that way,” I explained. “And I didn’t want to risk pushing you away, or frightening you.”
Peter frowned in sympathy. “I guess that makes sense... Oh, this is my place, by the way.”
An old low-rise apartment stood behind us. It wasn’t falling apart, but it wasn’t luxurious either.
“Come inside,” Peter said. He sounded more confident than he had all day. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Good thing I had no intention of refusing his offer.
As Peter fished for the lobby key in his pocket, he winced and huffed out a slight hiss between his teeth.
My ears perked up, my nostrils twitching. The hairs on my pelt bristled as I caught a whiff of coppery tang—blood.
“You’re bleeding,” I growled in concern.
“Ah,” Peter said, glancing at his palm. “It’s just a scratch from when I fell on the sidewalk.”
I arched my neck to get a better view. Thin streaks of blood coated his scraped palm.
The scent of Peter’s blood upset me. I couldn’t stop the growl rumbling in my barrel chest.
“Hey, it’s not that bad,” he reassured.
“I’ll fix it. Take us home.”
A pink wash dusted his cheeks. After that, he wasted no time getting us into the building. I padded beside him, my heavy paw-steps echoing around the barren lobby, and my claws clacking like knives against the cheap linoleum floor. The sounds were only audible to Peter’s ears.
“So, are you like... a ghost?” Peter asked as we entered the elevator. I barely fit. It was like trying to stuff an oversized carnival plush in a Tupperware container.
I grunted, contorting myself to become smaller. “No. I’m very much alive.”
He eyed my cramped body up and down. There was a gleam of amusement in his blue eyes. “Er, why don’t you just change back into a human?” he asked.
I huffed out a hot breath through my nostrils. “Barghests are notoriously protective of their loved ones. I can’t calm down until I know you’re safe.”
“All because of a little scratch?” Peter asked incredulously, holding up his scraped palm. Then his jaw dropped. “Wait, did you say loved ones ? —”
The elevator stopped at a floor below our destination. Peter and I went silent as the doors opened to reveal an older woman holding a small white dog in her arms. The pup yapped nonstop until it made eye contact with me, then went dead silent.
“Hi, Mrs. Guff,” Peter said, still blushing but trying his damnedest to act normal.
The woman smiled at him as she stepped into the elevator. I groaned inwardly and contorted myself against the elevator wall so I didn’t crush her and her dog. It was a tight fit.
“Hello, Peter,” she greeted. “Are you cold? Your cheeks are pink.”
“Haha, no, I just, uh... ran down the stairs, then realized I forgot something at home. So now I’m going back up.” Flailing to change the subject, he blurted, “Gee, I’ve never heard Mopsy so quiet before!”
“It’s odd, isn’t it?” Mrs. Guff laughed as if it were a miracle her dog wasn’t yapping its head off. “What are you looking at, pumpkin?”
Mopsy stared right at me, unafraid but curious. I stared back at the little white dog. We had a mutual understanding.
Then I felt a shiver along my fur. Another premonition.
“Mopsy is pregnant,” I told Peter.
“What?” he spat.
Mrs. Guff pursed her lips in confusion. “What is it, dear?”
Peter looked flustered. His mouth fell open as his brain attempted to make sense of everything. He glanced between my invisible face and Mrs. Guff’s very visible one.
“Um,” Peter said, his voice squeaking. “Has Mopsy had a boyfriend over recently?”
Mrs. Guff perked up. “Why, yes! My friend brought her sweet little Charles over for a play date, if you know what I mean.” She wriggled her brows. “But how did you know?”
I snorted at the mental image of a ‘play date’ between the two small dogs. That was definitely not what a ‘play date’ between a barghest and its mate looked like.
Peter scratched the back of his head. “Gee, I dunno. Just a feeling, I guess. She has that, uh... glow. I think Mopsy might be pregnant.”
Mrs. Guff chuckled. “I hope so! But you do seem very sure of it, Peter. I’m going to take your word for it.”
Peter met my gaze knowingly just before the elevator doors opened on our destination floor. He bid her goodbye, then sighed heavily as we finally reached his unit.
“That was close,” he mumbled, shoving the key in the lock and pushing the door open. “I thought for sure she’d see you, or feel you.”
“It was quite cramped, and she was pressed up against my fur. She just didn’t realize it.” When Peter pouted, I chuckled. “Are you jealous?”
“A little,” he mumbled. “My elderly neighbor got to cuddle up against you before I did.”
“Come here, then.”
Peter grinned like a kid on Christmas morning as he bounced over to me, throwing his entire body into my chest. A contented feeling surged in me, spreading like sunlight. I nuzzled Peter’s head with my muzzle. Up close, his scent was stronger, more addictive. Every breath I took was of him. I didn’t want it any other way.
I felt the rapid thrum of his pulse through his thin human skin. It quickened the longer he pressed into my chest.
“It’s weird,” Peter murmured. “You don’t smell like a dog.”
I grinned, flashing my teeth. “Because I’m not a dog. I’m a barghest.”
“Yeah, but you look like a giant ghost dog.”
“Is a house cat the same thing as a mythological sphinx?”
“Hmm... Good point.”
As much as I loved cuddling with Peter, his bleeding palm concerned me. I nudged him with my snout.
“Let’s clean you up first,” I suggested. “Where’s your first aid kit?”
Peter grimaced like a student who’d forgotten his homework was due. “Am I supposed to have one of those?”
His oblivious nature was one of his cutest traits, but it also worried me for his safety. Good thing I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d take care of him.
“Hydrogen peroxide? Bandages? Anything?” I asked.
“Oh, I have those in the bathroom.”
Relieved, I followed him to a small bathroom nestled in the corner of the apartment. The whole unit was petite, to put it generously. The old carpet smelled of past smoke and gods knew what else, but I could overlook that in favor of Peter’s overwhelming scent permeating the space.
Since I didn’t have opposable thumbs, I sat and waited impatiently as Peter fished out his own medical supplies. I tried to will myself back into human form, but my barghest took ‘protection’ too literally. This form was stronger than any threat, and faster than lightning. My instincts ordered me to remain this way until Peter was safe, even though it wasn’t always convenient.
“I hate this part,” Peter grumbled as he doused the scrapes with hydrogen peroxide. He winced, then shook off the liquid before applying a bandage. “There. All better.”
I pressed up against him—well, closer than before; it was impossible for both of us to fit in his bathroom without it being cramped—and licked his arm affectionately.
Peter giggled. “That tickles.” He paused, staring into my eyes. “Wow. The red is so beautiful up close.”
I heard his breath catch, and with my superior hearing, the rapid beat of his heart.
“Not as beautiful as yours,” I growled.
Peter swallowed. His cheeks were pink again. I was starting to think he’d wear a permanent blush for the rest of his life. But it looked good on him.
“Can I... touch you?” Peter asked breathlessly.
I thought he’d never ask. “Go ahead.”
Peter reached out a hand that was hesitant at first, then grew relaxed as he stroked the side of my long muzzle. I closed my eyes, relishing the warmth of his soft hand. It felt so good to be petted by him.
“You’re, like, really cute.” He chuckled. “How was I ever scared of you?”
I tilted my head into his hand. “It’s understandable. You didn’t know me yet.”
Peter blew out a breath, like he was about to voice a question he’d been hanging onto for a while. “I didn’t know you were a barghest at first, but... aren’t they supposed to be omens of death?”
“No,” I said patiently. “Our appearances have always been misconstrued by humans. We celebrate momentous occasions, impending changes. However, our sinister appearance frightens people. Over time, their perception of us snowballed into a bad omen, just like the Death tarot card. But that’s not our purpose. In my case, I have the ability to sense pregnancies.”
“Huh. I had no clue,” Peter said, sounding thoughtful. He tilted his head. “Then why did you appear before me? I’m not pregnant.” His eyes rounded and he gasped loudly. “Am I?”
I snorted. “No, Peter. If you were, I would’ve mentioned it by now.”
The visual of a pregnant Peter flashed in my mind like a brilliant firework. A shiver rippled across my fur.
He wasn’t. Yet.
But if he accepted me as alpha...
“I know why I was compelled to meet you,” I murmured. My heart fluttered like a flag in the wind. “And it had nothing to do with you being pregnant. You are... special to me.”
Peter’s eyes glimmered. “I am?”
The feelings crashed against my soul like a tide breaking against the shore. They were so potent, so visceral, I couldn’t bear to keep it to myself for a second longer.
“Peter,” I choked out, my barghest’s voice wavering between canine and human, “you’re my fated mate.”