Chapter 6 #3
After patrolling the front yard and sniffing the car, Salem urged his wolf to return to the house.
When he trotted up the porch steps, he sat down and cocked his head at the silence.
Quinn and Tak must have retreated into the library.
He thought about the colorful designs that filled the walls of her home and how he’d never given much thought to art until joining the pack.
Now he was surrounded by beautiful creations born from imagination and passion.
Even Bear was somewhat of an artist on the guitar.
Salem’s passions manifested in healing. He had nothing to show for it. No tangible creation to admire that would be here long after he was gone.
When the front door creaked open, Cleo tiptoed out. After quietly closing the door and turning around, her startled reaction revealed she was sneaking out.
Salem’s wolf delivered a disapproving bark.
Cleo adjusted the pink ears on her black hairband and nonchalantly stuffed her hands into her sweatshirt pockets. “Well, you said I should get out more, so here I am. Out.”
He wondered how she recognized his wolf when he’d never shifted around her that he could recall. Then again, Cleo spent a lot of time looking out windows, so she probably knew everyone’s animal by sight.
Cleo gripped the post, nimbly jumped onto the flat wooden rail, walked to the middle with ease, and sat, her legs dangling over the edge.
The door opened again, and Virgil emerged in a green silk kimono with black designs. Luckily, he had on shorts.
Virgil held out his hand to Cleo. “Cookie?”
“What kind?”
“Peanut butter.”
“Yuck.”
“Don’t be a hater. Peanut butter’s good for you.” After setting his cookies on the railing, he climbed onto it, struggling more than Cleo had as he swung his legs over and mirrored her position. His feet brushed against the bushes below.
Deciding to lie in the cool grass, Salem’s wolf trotted down the steps and plopped on his belly with his hind legs stretched out.
Virgil studied the cookies stacked between them before shoving one into his mouth.
Cleo eyed him. “Are you really part Gravewalker?”
“Legend has it.”
“Prove it.”
When he laughed, he must’ve inhaled some of those cookie crumbs, because he launched into a coughing fit. Once he regained his composure, Virgil raked back his tousled rock-star hair and picked up another cookie. “Have you ever met Chastity?”
“Who?”
He raised his right leg and turned it so she could see the black cat tattooed above his ankle. It sat facing away, its head turned forward to reveal eerily realistic eyes.
Cleo sized up the tat. “Cool. I’ve seen it before.”
“I got Chastity when I was twenty-three. Well, there was another one right before, but it didn’t work out.”
She leaned forward, hands on the rail, and stared at it. “What do you mean?”
He munched on another cookie. “Most dead people are scared of cats.”
“Why? Can they see ghosts?”
“Cats hate the dead, but I think there’s more to it. It’s trippy because you can show a specter a photograph of a cat and it repels them. In the old days, Gravewalkers always had a cat on the property.”
“Why not just hang a giant picture of a cat on the wall?”
“Because a picture can’t follow the ghost around. A real cat will.”
“Why don’t you have a cat?”
“A wolf with a pet cat?” He snorted. “Anyhow, that’s one reason I’m glad Eden lives here.”
“Can her tiger see ghosts?”
Virgil squinted at the sky. “She can only stay awake for a few minutes, but she’s never seen a ghost. It’s probably limited to house cats; otherwise, all the cat Shifters would be lunatics.”
“But how do you know for sure? What if their cat sees it after the human side of them goes to sleep?”
“I think as long as the human mind is conscious, it can’t pierce the veil.
I’ve never had a cat Shifter in animal form in the same room with me and a ghost, but it seems like someone would’ve figured that out by now.
Phantasms also hate gargoyle statues, but I didn’t want one of those ugly things on my body.
My first tattoo wasn’t very realistic, so I found another artist who gave her some creepy eyes. Scares the pants off all the spooks.”
“Dead people wear pants?”
He laughed while finishing his bite. “Some do, some don’t.”
“If they scare away the ghosts, why did you put it on your leg instead of your arm or forehead?”
“You can’t keep them away in public,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s when they get into the house like a cockroach. So you either buy a few cats or a nice tattoo and they usually leave you alone. It depends on how good you are at ignoring them.”
“So that’s why you always walk around in shorts or with your pant legs hiked up?”
He shook the crumbs off his robe. “You’re a smart cookie.”
Cleo swung her legs and squinted at the sky. “How come you kept it a secret? About being half Gravewalker.”
“Because people think Gravewalkers are cuckoo in the head. Well, let’s face it, Virgil Nightingale doesn’t fit the norms, but all of us are a little touched.
We see another realm, and trust me, the dead aren’t always pretty to look at.
Some are mean, some are batshit crazy, and some of them threaten you when you ignore them.
Imagine a specter following you around everywhere—and I mean everywhere—and threatening to hire another Gravewalker to assassinate you. ”
“Maybe you should tell them to drop dead.”
Virgil erupted with laughter that rivaled a hyena. When he settled down, he wiped the crumbs off his hands. “This is the first real conversation we’ve ever had. You ask smart questions. Maybe you should be a journalist when you grow up.”
“Or a bounty hunter.” Cleo hopped onto the railing with fast reflexes and swung around the post and onto the porch.
“Or maybe a gymnast,” Virgil added. “One of these days I’ll take you on a tour of my favorite place: the roof.”
Salem’s wolf growled.
“Kidding, kidding,” he said, holding up his hands. “Are you awake in there, Doc?”
“He’s awake,” Cleo confirmed while picking at her fingernails. “I can tell. Why did you move here?”
Virgil straddled the railing and leaned against the post. “The city is full of dead people. Out here, I have the whole house to myself.”
She frowned. “People die everywhere.”
“Sure, but in the city, ghosts wander into apartments or walk down the street searching for Gravewalkers. They’d never find this house.”
“I bet there were pioneers who dropped dead on the trail, or Native burial grounds. There could be whole cemeteries out there.”
He played with the belt on his robe. “First of all, I’ve rarely ever seen a Native ghost. Tribes have ceremonies and rituals to help the dead move on.”
“What about all those soldiers and cowboys who rode around? Or the people trying to cross a river in a wagon? Or what about all the cavemen who got eaten by tigers?”
“You’re really trying to give me the creeps, aren’t you?
” Virgil smiled and knocked on the post. “Most dead people who stay behind aren’t travelers or some random guy who tumbled into a creek and drowned.
They’re bad dudes. Some stay behind for revenge and follow that person around.
You’re not going to see many dead people wandering in the fields. Not unless they’re a freshy.”
“What’s a freshy?”
“Freshly dead. Once they latch onto someone or find a town, they stay close to people. Some hang out in cemeteries, but a lot of the older specters slip into the ground and sleep in their coffin.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Why would they do that?”
Salem’s wolf hopped up and ascended the steps.
“Because ghosts are caught between worlds. At first, they’re angry and sad. Then they start losing their marbles and get confused. Eventually, after decades or centuries, they don’t want to exist anymore. The noise of the world bothers them, so they dip out and lie in the dark.”
“Why are they stuck? I mean, why can’t they just go wherever the other spirits went?”
“The boat only comes once. Some are given second chances and walk into the beyond, but I think they had to do something noble or impress the fates. I don’t know.
The majority are stubborn and don’t care about redemption.
If you ever want to talk to a specter, I am not your man.
I don’t want anything to do with them.” Virgil turned his gaze to the yard.
“I’d give my left kidney to be a full-blooded Shifter. ”
“Well, I think it’s kinda cool you’re both. I wish I had special powers.”
“Careful what you wish for,” he said, picking up the last cookie. “It’s never the gift you think it is.”
Salem kept his distance from Cleo as he approached the door and pawed on it.
“I’ll go with you,” she said while opening the door.
Salem’s wolf sniffed the shoes by the door.
Then he focused on the spot where his bloody clothes had been.
Smells linger long after their source is gone, and when he caught Quinn’s floral scent, he followed the trail through the game room, his toenails clicking noisily against the wood floor.
The sliding doors were closed, but their voices carried from the library.
Quinn was reciting her work experience. Salem’s wolf pushed his nose to the crack beneath the door and smelled her excitement and anxiety.
She really wanted this job.
He prowled through the house to investigate the hallways, sniff beneath the doors, and find out who was home.
Even though Salem was still conscious, his wolf was the one in control, and it was important not to intervene too much and cause disharmony.
After a quick patrol, his wolf followed voices coming from the kitchen.
Eden was leaning against the kitchen island with Jasper collapsed against her shoulder. He was fighting sleep as she hummed quietly and swayed back and forth in a rocking motion.
The fridge door closed, and Cleo padded out of the room with a can of soda.
Salem and his wolf had similar personalities, but where Salem would’ve left the room to give Eden and Jasper privacy, his wolf had no such inclination.
Instead, he strutted over to sniff those tiny feet.
Jasper was strong and would be walking months ahead of Joy’s baby.
He was already pulling himself up on anything he could grab.
Eden had a tight grip of her wrist beneath the baby’s bottom, and it looked like she was struggling with his weight since she kept shifting positions. Jasper’s tiny fingers were wrapped around her curly hair, his other hand dangling at his side.
After a muffled whine, Salem trotted out.
Krys marched inside from the back door but held it ajar. “You want out?”
Salem’s wolf wanted to stick around for some reason, so he sat down.
By the look of his windblown hair and dirty shoes, Krys must have been cleaning the stable.
“Have it your way.” After taking off his sneakers, which he rarely wore, he tossed them onto the deck.
“I need to find a job so I’m not always the one shoveling horse shit.
” Krys walked past him toward the staircase.
“He better not even think of buying cows.”
Salem followed him into the central hall but stopped short and barked.
Virgil made a dramatic entrance through the front door, the wind blowing his hair forward, his arms outstretched. He snapped his fingers at Krys and sang a made-up tune: “I’ve been looking for you.”
Krys hung out by the staircase. “I’ve been shoveling shit. Feel like swapping chores with me?”
“Not on your life, lover boy. I served my time for two months in the stable, so I’m going to enjoy collecting eggs and cleaning the coop. If only those little minions wouldn’t peck at my feet.”
Krys stripped off his shirt and marched up the steps. “I’ll be in the shower.”
Virgil lingered by the staircase while watching him disappear past the landing. “I’d give my left kidney to watch.” He snapped his mouth shut when he noticed Salem. “Are you awake in there?”
“Woof.”
His eyebrows drew together. “I wonder if that pretty redhead with the nice ass is single. She’s fuckable.”
Salem’s wolf tackled Virgil to the ground and snarled.
Virgil laughed beneath him. “Looks like I’m not the only one with a secret,” he sang, taunting Salem’s wolf by poking his fangs.
Salem chomped on Virgil’s hand, holding it firmly in his mouth. Wolves didn’t hurt each other; they just issued warnings.
“Fine, fine,” Virgil grumbled. “Did I ever tell you how much I love a juicy secret? I was giving up on you, my friend. Thought maybe your equipment wasn’t fully operational.”
Salem glared until Virgil blinked. He suddenly couldn’t differentiate between his feelings and his wolf’s. Who was angry about Virgil’s interest in Quinn? And why?
Footfalls closed in from the adjacent room. When Tak noticed his packmates on the floor, he put his fists on his hips. “What’s going on here?”
Virgil smiled up at him. “Salem was just demonstrating how he seduces women.”
Not a split second later, a flurry of laughter erupted from behind the Packmaster. When Quinn poked her head into view and smiled brightly, Salem released Virgil’s hand and approached her, his tail high.
Tak stepped between them to protect the woman. “Keep your distance.”
His wolf snarled savagely, but before Salem could calm him down, he blacked out when his animal took full control.