25. Hudson
Chapter 25
Hudson
W hoa. Aster’s body sinks to the floor, and as I start to move towards him, Crash appears in front of me with a calm smile on his face.
“That’s what’s supposed to happen. He’s okay.”
Otto jumps from my arms and sniffs his owner, glancing up at me with a cocked head.
“Why can I see you sometimes like you’re a living person and sometimes I can’t?”
Crash shrugs. “I don’t know exactly. I’m told that as the living become more aware of the world beyond the veil, their guard lowers and their third eye is opened. Maybe you’re still trying to block it out at times.”
“Maybe. I can see you very clearly right now.”
“I would guess your defenses are lowered given everything you just witnessed.”
I walk over to where Aster is sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. The other man, Wilder, is propped up against the island. Both men are eerily still, with their eyes partially open.
“Astral projection?”
Crash nods, gazing at the two men as well. “It’s a different realm. One where your subconscious takes over and you leave the confines of a human body behind. It’s the only way other than death.”
“So… it’s like an out of body experience.”
“It’s exactly that.”
Otto sits at my feet, wagging his tail as he looks up at me. I scoop him into my arms. “What do we do while we wait?”
“You might want to put some pants on.”
I glance down at my barely covered body. “Almost forgot.”
“Not that I mind, but I doubt Aster wants me ogling his man.”
“I’m not his—” The objection falls away. Why am I defending myself to a ghost anyway? “Wilder broke the spell over the house?”
“Knocked on the door and strolled right in.”
“And how is he involved in all of this?”
“Like Aster said, Wilder is another Chaser. I contacted him looking for tips.”
“Right. He’s a friend?”
“Friendly. Helpful. He keeps to himself. He’s the oldest Chaser I know.”
“He looks thirty-something.”
“He was when he died. He’s been a Chaser for over two hundred years.”
My jaw drops. “What? Two hundred years? That’s impossible. He’s not human?”
“He’s a Chaser.”
“You’ve said that, like, five times. Is Wilder human?”
“Yes, but he’s a Chaser, so he’s basically immortal. Like a vampire.”
“Vampires aren’t real.”
Crash chuckles. “Oh, really? I know a few vampires who might disagree.”
“Wha—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. I can’t deal with that knowledge right now. “Wilder can’t die?”
“He can, but not easily. He could get hit by a train and brush it off. Only a Horror can kill a Chaser. They go for the heart or they trick them into exchanging souls and end up in the Below.”
“Somehow nothing you’re saying makes sense, but it also kind of does.”
“The underworld is a confusing place.”
I nod, glancing at Aster. “Does that mean he can’t die?”
“Yep.”
Well shit. Even if we did manage to make this into some kind of relationship, I’ll grow old and die eventually and he won’t. What a mind fuck.
“He can keep you if he wants to,” Crash says, grinning wildly as he does some kind of shimmy with his shoulders. “I mean, if you both want that. You have to consent too.”
My heart flutters in my chest. “What does that mean?”
“It’s a whole thing that he should explain, but long story really short, you can be together.”
“But I’ll grow old.”
Crash wiggles his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t be so sure, homie.”
“Homie?”
“We’re friends, right?”
“Sure, I guess. When did you…” I wave my hand in the air. “You know.”
“Die? In the eighties. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of staying hip, don’t you?”
“Except that no one says hip anymore.”
“What do they say?”
“Uh, cool. Dope maybe. Rad possibly. The younger people though, fuck if I know.”
“Dope? That means drugs.”
“Not really anymore.”
“How do you say drugs?”
“Drugs. Or specifically what it is. Like weed, coke, et cetera.”
“Gag.”
“That means something else too.”
Crash huffs. “Gag me with a spoon. What else could that mean?”
“We don’t say the spoon part. Just gag. For example, ‘I gagged’ means amazed or speechless. Generally it’s good.”
With his brow furrowed, he says, “Use that in a sentence.”
“Uh. My bestie showed up looking snatched. I was gagged by his new look.”
Crash stares at me for a second before a fresh smile spreads across his face. “I like it. Snatched means good?”
“Yes. Very good. Like on fleek.”
He gives me a wide-eyed smile. “On fleek.”
“Also good. Sharp-dressed.”
His grin widens. “That I understand. ZZ Top has a great song.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, they do.”
“Okay. That apron on your thighs is on fleek. Very snatched. It’s so cute I’m gagging.”
“Pretty good.”
He preens, brushing his hair off his shoulders even though it’s not really there. “I love learning new things.”
“Is that how you pass the time?”
He nods. “That and visiting other Chasers. I visit my extended family too. Just to check in. I died before I could get married or have kids or anything like that, but I have lots of cousins and cousins of cousins.”
“Isn’t that hard?”
“Not anymore. At first it was really hard. I could see my friends and my parents, I could walk around the school, but no one could see me. I couldn’t do much either. I had to learn how to interact, and even now, most don’t see me.”
“It must be lonely.”
“Sometimes. That’s why I like the Chasers. They can see me.” He twirls around in a small circle. “The hardest part is watching my folks get old. My dad was never the same after my accident. They don’t even talk to each other anymore. I’ve tried so many times to show myself to them, to give them some peace and tell them that I’m okay, but they never notice me.”
“I’m sorry, Crash.”
“That’s okay. I don’t visit that much anymore. I’d be in my fifties by now. Isn’t that wild?”
“It is.”
“Anyway, I can be useful to the Chasers. I like being useful. That’s why I escaped from the Below.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
His face lights up. “Thanks.”
“I’ll go get dressed. The Horror is still contained, right?”
“Yep. I’ll keep an eye on the guys.”
I hurry upstairs to throw on some clothes and then head back down. I might as well make some coffee. As soon as my feet hit the bottom step, the sound of my phone buzzing and beeping on the coffee table breaks the morning silence.
I rush over to grab it, watching as all of Jocelyn’s missed calls and texts come through. We have service again! Wilder really did break the spell.
Since it’s four in the morning, I’ll wait to call her back, but I’m excited to have access to the outside world again. I just hope the Horror stays contained long enough for Aster to do whatever he’s doing and get back safely.
When I enter the kitchen again, Otto is curled up beside Aster, but he’s still alert, wagging his tail when he sees me. I prep the coffee maker then begin the process of cleaning up some of the mess from before. Crash is hovering near Aster, holding a book in his hand.
“What’re you reading?”
“A book I found on your shelf.” He shows it to me. “It’s really good.”
“I wrote that.”
Crash gasps dramatically. “You’re so talented.”
“Thanks.”
Using the broom, I sweep up some broken pieces from the fallen mugs and dishes, glancing periodically at Aster and Wilder sitting catatonic on my floor.
He won’t die.
Ever.
And he could keep me if he wanted to. Could he want to? And what would that mean for me? How do I find out without sounding like I’m making this more than it is? I’m not sure living forever sounds fun, and even if we did fall in love somehow, what would I do while he was out chasing bad spirits? Leave it to me to meet a truly great guy and he’s in the most complicated situation ever.
I push those thoughts aside and pour myself a mug of coffee, positioning myself next to Aster and Otto and waiting for him to come back. I hope when he does he knows what to do and we can end all this drama and get back to normal life.
Whatever normal is.