Chapter 12 #2
Thomas rolls his eyes and I stifle a laugh.
The two are thick as thieves and their constant banter is part of it all.
It’s entertaining, endearing, and oddly comforting.
It’s like all is right in the world when those two are trading insults, because when they’re not joking around, then shit must be serious.
“I’ll call you when we leave.” I step over to Jac and kiss him, meaning to give him a quick peck on the lips. But as soon as my mouth makes contact with his, I’m sucked in and my arms fasten around his neck. His tongue slips into my mouth and a soft groan escapes from deep inside his throat.
I have to shake myself and pull away, saying bye to Gil and Hasan as well before Thomas and I take off. Henry lives just a few blocks away from the station. People are out and about on this nice night, taking advantage of the warm early evening.
“What is your plan?” Thomas asks as we walk up to the house.
“I’m not really sure,” I admit. “If he’s the real deal, I think he’ll pick up on things, right?”
“Seems like that’s the way it works.” Thomas takes my hand and gives it a squeeze.
I inhale, pushing my shoulders back. It’s weird how I don’t feel like Detective Bisset right now, walking up to a house with the confidence I usually have.
Instead, I feel like Acelina the witch, unsure of what’s going to come.
And the latter feels right.
She’s who I’m supposed to be, which is as shocking as it is reassuring. Work was my whole life before, but now that I know who I am, it feels so good to finally be me. The wooden steps to the porch creak under Thomas’s weight, and Henry answers the door right after I ring the bell.
“Ace?” he questions, not opening the screen door just yet.
“Yes. We spoke on the phone. Thanks for seeing me.”
Henry flicks his eyes to Thomas. I told him I’d bring a friend and he didn’t seem to have an issue with that. Maybe he was expecting a female friend?
“This is Thomas.”
“Nice to meet you both. Come in.” Henry unlocks the screen and opens it for us, stepping aside.
I’m hit with the smell of sage as soon as I walk in.
Henry leads us to his living room and waves for us to sit on the couch.
He’s older than me, in his mid-forties if I had to guess, and has graying dark hair.
“So, let’s start with your ghost problem,” he says. “You were reluctant to share the details with Mike, but if you tell me it makes things easier.” He looks at Thomas again, eyes lingering a moment too long. Is he checking him out?
“I’m not sure if it’s really a problem.”
“You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t,” he counters, raising his eyebrows.
“True,” I agree. My hands feel shaky and my heart fluttery. I blink and see my mother before me, my heart lurching. I miss her so much and seeing her only made me miss her more. “Though if I really did see who I thought I did, then it’s not a problem at all.” But the ghost attacking people is…
“I’m going to be frank, hun,” Henry says. “I need details if you want me to help you.”
Thomas puts his hand on my thigh, turning his head in and giving me a reassuring smile.
“Okay,” I say with a nod. “My parents were murdered when I was a kid. I found their bodies and their case was never solved. It has literally haunted me my whole life, drove me to become a homicide detective, and I vowed to finally close their cold case. But the more I looked into it, the less sense it made. I wanted to talk to my mom and see if she could give me answers to…to some of the questions I have. So I tried to summon her.”
“And you saw her?”
Thomas stiffens slightly. He knows I can’t go into all the details. “Yes. She spoke to me. Knew things only she would know. I lost my memories from that night…from the shock, I was told. And she brought those memories back.”
“Is it really her mom?” Thomas asks, blue eyes clouding over with worry.
“I can’t say for certain either way. Though I will say this is all very intense.
Traumatic deaths can leave what I call a scar on the universe, so to speak.
When life is taken away unexpectedly, and especially violently, you’re more likely to see a haunting.
Is this the first time you’ve seen your mother’s spirit? ”
“Yes.”
“Have you tried to contact her before?”
“Never officially,” I say, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “I’d beg and cry for her to come back or talk to me when I was a kid.” The emotion hits me hard, and my eyes start to pool with tears. I blink them away, and Thomas moves closer to me on the couch.
“I can try to get a read on you,” Henry says. “It’s not like the movies. I can’t hold your hand and see into your past. But I am able to pick up on feelings and stray thoughts here and there sometimes. Do you feel like your mother is with you now?”
“No. I’ve only felt her once since I saw her.”
“Was it a bad feeling?”
“No. She was warning me to stop following another ghost who attacked a guy. It’s like my life is a paranormal soap opera all of a sudden.”
Henry nods and closes his eyes. Thomas slips his arm around me, fingers resting on the curve of my hip. I’m so glad he’s here with me.
Shaking his head, Henry opens his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He looks at Thomas again. “There’s this weird energy coming from you.”
“From me?” Thomas echoes.
“Yes. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before.”
Uh-oh.
“I don’t feel anything paranormal,” Thomas says casually. “And I’m not entirely sure I even believe in ghosts.”
“What about past lives?” Henry asks seriously. “Do you believe in those?”
“No,” Thomas says, telling the truth this time. “I don’t.”
I look from Thomas to Henry. “Why do you ask?”
Henry keeps his gaze on Thomas for another few seconds.
“I keep seeing this image.” He closes his eyes and brings his hand to his head, tapping the center of his forehead.
“It’s an old memory playing out before me.
It’s fuzzy and I can’t quite make it out.
But the feelings are strong, and there’s someone there with you.
” He opens his eyes and leans forward. “Are you a twin?”
Holy shit.
“I am,” Thomas says slowly. “But my brother is alive and well. He’s not a ghost.”
“I don’t just see ghosts,” Henry replies, looking almost confused at what he’s seeing. “You’re identical?”
“Yes.” Thomas swallows hard and doesn’t make a joke about being slightly better looking or that he got all the smarts.
“What does that have to do with past lives?” I ask.
Henry chuckles and rubs his forehead. “I know this will sound crazy, but when I look at him, I see someone in old-fashioned clothing holding a lantern. Though it’s more than seeing it.
I’m well aware you could frequent Renaissance fairs and be wearing costumes.
It’s the feeling of dread, of being forced to do something.
” Henry closes his eyes again and opens his right hand.
“And the sword. It’s heavy. The metal is cold and the blade is dull. ”
Thomas stiffens and I forget to breathe.
Henry’s eyes fly open. Blinking rapidly, he puts his hand on the arm of his chair to steady himself. He takes in a slow breath before finally speaking again.
“In your past life, you were a knight.”