Chapter 26 #3
They didn’t know these people, and after Virgil’s performance, someone might’ve pulled him into a back room or kidnapped him. Even though Virgil could take care of himself around a bunch of humans, a prickle of dread came over Krys when he couldn’t locate him.
He squeaked by two large men to search the staff room.
By the time he walked out the side door, he was in panic mode.
When Krys saw the two women from earlier flanking Virgil—who was reclined in a chair, eyes closed, arms dangling at his sides—his eyebrows sank into an angry slash. One of them had her hand up his shirt.
Krys shot across the porch like an arrow and gripped her wrist. “Did he ask you to touch him?”
Her eyes widened.
“Then don’t fucking touch him,” he snarled, noticing Virgil was passed out. “What the hell is wrong with you? Get out. Out!”
The women collected their purses and scampered away.
He bent down and tapped Virgil’s cheek. “Hey. Virgil!” When he didn’t respond, Krys patted his cheek more frantically. “Virgil. Wake up. Come on, wake up.”
Virgil’s eyelids fluttered. “There’s the man of the hour,” he slurred. Tears streaked down his face from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“What did you drink?”
This wasn’t a Breed bar, so it sure as hell wasn’t sensory magic.
Virgil mouthed, “Everclear.”
“Shit.”
Virgil’s head lolled. “They won’t shut up.” He put his hands over his ears. “They want me to help, and they’re so loud.”
“I’m here now. Let’s go.”
Krys hauled Virgil to his feet.
“They want me dead,” Virgil added.
“Tell them I said to fuck off.” Krys threw him over his shoulder and carefully made his way down the steps and to the vehicle.
“I ruined our date,” Virgil muttered.
Krys couldn’t imagine the torment Virgil experienced with ghosts, but he wanted to help. He wanted to make them disappear, but this was one foe he couldn’t fight.
Once he sat Virgil in the passenger seat and buckled his seat belt, he got in.
“They’re in the car.” Virgil’s voice quavered. “Leave me alone.”
“Get out of the fucking car!” Krys’s strident tone demanded nothing less than obedience. He had summoned his wolf’s power and delivered a death stare around the interior. “What about now?”
Virgil looked behind him. “They’re gone. Hurry up and leave!”
Krys started the engine and hit the gas so fast they left a cloud of dust behind.
In a fit of rage, Virgil kicked the interior and punched the door. “I’m an idiot. A cocky fucking idiot. I pointed at one during the performance. That’s all it took. One guy. He told the other specters—he called me out in front of them. The alcohol by itself isn’t enough to make them go away.”
“I want to help. Let me help.”
Virgil scoffed and pressed his face against the glass. “How can you help when you’re running from your own ghosts?”
Irritated, Krys pulled the car off the dirt road, the headlights shining into a field. He twisted to face Virgil. “I don’t run. I ignore.”
“No one can help me. Tak thinks I’m an addict.”
“Is it true? You rarely drink at home, and you’re always home. Even at the bar, I’ve only seen you wasted a few times. Usually on sensory magic.”
“Small towns don’t have as many spooks. Not like the city.”
That didn’t track. “We’re not in the city. You said there were a lot of them back there.”
Virgil faced Krys, his eyes glassy and woeful. “There’s a cemetery behind the roadhouse. Someday I’ll understand why humans build entertainment venues next to cemeteries, but today is not that day. There’s nothing else out here. They’re drawn to the lights.”
“I thought ghosts hated electricity?”
“Lights mesmerize them. Being around too many electronics confuses them. They also know that’s where people are.” He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. “There’s no escape.”
Krys put his hand on Virgil’s chest. “The next time we take a trip and you don’t feel safe because of spooks and shit, we’ll have a code word. That way, we won’t tip them off you’re a Gravewalker. You just say the word, and we’re gone.”
Virgil opened his eyes. “You would do that?”
Krys gripped the back of his neck. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do. You got that?”
Virgil nodded, but it seemed reluctant.
“Good.” Krys leaned away and stared at the field. “Tak doesn’t need to know about tonight. People have a right to go out and get shit-faced. It’s not a crime, and I’m the designated driver anyhow. Do you want to pack up the tent and stay in a hotel instead?”
Virgil shook his head.
Krys wanted to help; he just didn’t know how. “It pisses me off you think it’s something you have to deal with alone. We haven’t given you the support you deserve. Goddammit, Virgil, we’re not mind readers. Tell us if you’re struggling. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. I just want you to feel safe.”
Virgil rubbed his face before disheveling his hair. “This isn’t going to work out between us.”
“What do you mean?”
He averted his eyes. “I should’ve known better. The worst mistake you ever made was latching on to me like one of these ghosts. It’s over, Krys. Whatever this is… it ends now. What happens in Cognito stays in Cognito,” he said, muttering the last part.
Before Krys could argue, Virgil slumped against the door and passed out.