Page 68 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)

THE SKIRT, THE SPY, AND THE SéANCE GUY

Graham

“Twelve—fucking—grand?!” I dragged a hand down my face, staring at the tangle of wires like it’d magically make this less insane. “Jesus, I knew it’d be expensive, but goddamn.”

Derek didn’t even flinch, crouched behind what looked like the back end of a cyborg octopus. “A brand-new, untraceable rig isn’t something you grab off Craigslist, man,” he muttered, feeding a cord into the laser printer like he’d done it a thousand times.

“You’re lucky I’ve still got some of Rebecca’s life insurance left,” I grumbled, half to myself.

That got his attention.

He paused, glancing up with that big-brother tilt of the head—equal parts judgment and concern. “Have you told her yet?”

“No. And I’m not going to.”

He gave me the look. You know the one. The are-you-fucking-kidding-me-you-emotionally-stunted-dumbass look.

“Um… hello! You obviously like her. She obviously likes you. This isn’t casual. What kind of guy drops twelve grand on a hookup—especially on an officer’s salary?”

“We’ve only…” I paused, scrubbing the back of my neck.

“Look, maybe she’s seen a little more of me than the rest of Essex County, but I’m just doing my job.”

Bullshit. You’re doing this because you want to keep her alive. You’re doing this because you can’t lose her too.

“If that were true,” Derek shot back, “you’d still have your badge and gun.” His voice was cool and steady, yet held enough irritation to slice through my bullshit. “Just don’t hurt her.”

My eyes snapped to his. “Do you really think I’d be doing all this if I didn’t give a shit about her?”

“No. And I know that.” Derek’s voice went quiet. “But I also know the moment you get close to someone, you shove them away. Maybe you don’t mean to. Maybe you do. Just… don’t do it with her.”

“Wow,” I scoffed. “Didn’t know you had such feelings for Maggie. You trying to get a slice of the pie too?”

“The pie? God, you’re filled with so much class.” He didn’t even look up—just let the sarcasm coat his tongue like molasses and went back to digging through the wires.

“You should talk.” I huffed. “You were just telling me how you couldn’t do this because the prisons in Massachusetts don’t allow sex visits for your E-girls.”

“Hey!” He popped up, stared me down and pointed the bundle of wires in his hand at me. “Leave them out of this.” Then he disappeared again.

“She’s something this town needs, man. You don’t see the cases I do… the ones that don’t make it to the precinct. She could really make a difference. And if I find out you hurt her—if you drop her like she’s just another casualty of the war you’re fighting inside. I swear to God?—”

“Derek, chill!” I threw up a hand. “We’re not even a thing. We’ve hooked up, maybe sexted a little. That’s it,” I lied.

“You sexted?” He finally looked up, shaking his head. “Wait—don’t answer that.” He said flatly. “What’s her favorite color?”

“…What kind of question is that?”

“What’s her favorite color?” He repeated, halfway under the folding table, fiddling with the surge protector.

I opened my mouth, closed it. Then tried again.

“…I don’t know.”

The lie lodged in my throat like a shard of glass.

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine.” I grunted, crossing my arms. “It’s the color of sugar maple leaves just before they fall.”

“And how do you know that?” Derek’s muffled voice snuck out from under the table, wires tangling around his arms like tentacles.

I stared up at the rafters. “She said it while she was high, okay? I took note. Sue me.”

“Uh-huh. What’s my favorite color?”

“How the fuck should I know?” I threw my hands in the air. “Probably the color of my cum when that thing possessed me.”

“Yep, Ectoplasm Blue.”

“It was green. I should know, it shot from my dick.” I dragged my hand down my face. “God, I hate that you know that.”

Derek finally stood, brushing off his jeans. “Yes, yours was… not exactly sure why.” He rummaged through a box on the couch. “And you know hers because you care. You listen to her. Just like you do with me.”

“Whoa. Let’s not make this weird. I like you strictly in a ‘don’t let my junk glow green again’ way.”

He chuckled, but the humor faded fast. “If you care about her, you’ll tell her.”

And there it was. That quiet, grounded tone of his that always hit like a motherfucking freight train.

I glanced at my watch. One hour until Portia’s fundraiser.

“I can’t tell her. Not tonight.”

“Don’t wait too long.”

“Derek… do me a favor.”

He poked his head out again, and gave me a look, “What the hell do you consider a favor, if this isn’t it.”

“While Maggie and I are at Portia’s, can you and Katie poke around Belvedere’s place? See what you can dig up?”

Derek snorted, not even looking up from the equipment in his hands. “Sure. Not like I’m not already breaking half a dozen laws for you. What’s one more felony between friends?”

Maggie

Katie had been here for an hour already, but I was still trying to process her new hair.

The platinum blonde was cut short on one side, leaving the rest to swoop dramatically over the other in contrast to the stark black I was used to.

But for her it worked. Her oversized black glasses slid down her nose as she rifled through my closet like it was a damn treasure chest. I wasn’t sure why it was taking her so long—probably because she was too busy hanging onto every word I said about the past few days.

Like she’d never lived anything close to it.

“It’s like when I was with Silas,” she sighed, holding a hanger like it might be a bridal bouquet, “his touch was so caring… so thoughtful… so?—”

“Katie,” I cut in, “he jammed his hand in your pussy while you were unconscious on the couch during the séance. Not exactly what I’d call thoughtful. Or caring.”

“My body was unconscious,” she huffed, unfazed, “but my spirit? Oh, it was very awake.” Her expression twisted into something dreamy and mildly unhinged.

“You wouldn’t understand. We weren’t just physical—we were spiritually bound.

I think this is what they mean when they say he knew her biblically. ”

I wanted to tell her how disturbing it was that she kept romanticizing my dead uncle. But all I could do was stare while she fingered through my clothes like she was already planning their next date in the afterlife.

“Besides, Maggie,” she sing-songed, pulling a hanger from the rack like it was evidence, “you can’t say anything now, can you? You slept with Graham while he was possessed. Remember?”

“Ugh—how many times do I have to say this?” I groaned, “I didn’t know he was possessed. Not until the very end.”

“Mmmhmm.” She didn’t believe me. Not fully. Not even a little. She just gave me that little smirk, the one that said she was mentally filing it under ‘hot gossip.’ Then she held up a cream linen crop top and a long dark, flowy skirt I didn’t recognize.

My eyebrows knit. “Where did that come from?”

She didn’t answer, just laid it on the bed beside Chester, who looked personally offended that his sunbeam was now being shared with outfit planning. I shrugged and tossed it on, not having the energy to argue.

“Katie,” I said, while tugging the top over my chest, “have you ever known Graham to hang around a woman for longer than a night or two?”

Katie emerged from the closet holding a pair of brown leather boots and a small handful of tangled jewelry. “Well, I’m not super close with him,” she said, “but I do know him well enough to say this is the most focused I’ve ever seen him on one girl.”

“Really,” my belly did a ridiculous little flutter, and I felt my cheeks ignite. “You mean he might actually want more than just a few orgasms from me?”

“I’m not saying that,” Katie said, looping a necklace around my throat like she was adorning a sacrificial lamb. “I’m just saying I’ve never seen him this enthralled.” She gave me a once-over, then spun me gently towards the mirror. “You didn’t spell him, did you?”

“What? No! Of course not!” I scoffed. “I gave it up—remember?”

I reached for the maxi skirt and lifted it by the hem to admire it in the mirror. It really was cute—dark and flowy, with a subtle shimmer in the right light.

“Thanks for letting me borrow this.”

“I didn’t bring it.” Katie tilted her head. “Maybe Graham did. It was folded neatly on your vanity chair. With this necklace.” She pointed to the hummingbird necklace she had layered in amongst the others she had in the handful. “And a note that said ‘ For tonight.’ ”

I froze.

Huh, that was weird. I never saw him bring it in or even come into the room, he just gave me his gifts and headed upstairs with Derek.

I pushed the thought aside, but I couldn’t forget that they were probably doing something highly illegal in my attic—and I needed to know what it was.

“Kates,” I said, “remember to find out what’s going on up there before Graham and I get back.”

“No worries, sis. I’ve got a plan.” She pulled a small baggie of joints from the pouch of her studded black hoodie like it was a magic trick. “Ta-da!”

“Seriously? Is that all you two ever do together?”

“You mean besides fuck when we’re lonely?” She shrugged.

I choked on air.

“You and Derek?!”

“Calm yourself. It’s strictly platonic.”

“Platonic fucking, hmm.” That was a new way of putting it.

“Oh, stop it.” She shoved the baggie back into her pouch. “We’ve all done some questionable things to get laid, remember.”

I nodded. “I just thought… he seemed very… prudish .”

“Yeah… Derek’s not a prude. He’s a freak in the sheets especially when he gets a little… extra motivated” She shook the baggie again. “It calms the mind and can help make people more willing to open up about things they might not otherwise express.”

I chewed the corner of my mouth. “What happened to the girl I met at the market? The one who seemed sensible… not quite as Cheech and Chong meets The Addams Family?”

“So you’re saying I can’t be stoned and sensible?” She rested her hands on her hips.

“No.”