Page 10 of Deceiver (Soul Chasers #2)

Keagan

I should definitely not be thinking about how attractive Wilder is.

Or about how intense his green eyes are when he looks at me, how sexy the set of his jaw or the veins in his hands are.

I wondered why he had gloves on earlier, if he was hiding something, but maybe he wears them to keep people from drooling over how ridiculously hot his hands are.

As if I don’t have bigger issues to deal with. My house is freaking haunted and it’s my dad doing it. Fine time to finally show up in my life.

I glance at Wilder as he makes a turn, his eagle-eyed gaze on the traffic in front of us. “Have you always lived in Salem?”

“No. I spent quite a bit of time in New York until last year. I grew tired of the city, and my ancestors settled in Salem. My home is a family home.”

“Mine too.” I smile, sitting up a little. We have something in common. “My grandmother left it to me.”

“Your father’s or your mother’s mother?”

“Mother. I don’t know my dad’s side because he wasn’t close to them.”

“A trend in your father’s life.”

“Yeah.” I pick at my cuticle for a second. “Did you go to school somewhere else?”

He glances briefly in my direction. “School?”

“Like college. I assume you went to college because of how polished you are. I thought maybe you went somewhere out west because you don’t have a Massachusetts accent at all.”

I notice how his brow creases as the silence between us deepens.

“Sore subject? Sorry.”

“It’s not.” Wilder clears his throat. “Though I’m from Salem, I’ve traveled extensively. That’s likely why I don’t have a regional accent.”

“That’s cool. I haven’t traveled at all. I haven’t even been to New York. I went to Connecticut for a few conferences with my company, but that’s pretty much it.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything else. So much for conversation. I try again anyway.

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“I know,” Wilder says.

“Right.” Tapping my fingers on my thigh, I look outside. I’m so curious about the handsome man next to me. He looks young, but carries himself like someone much older. He’s so hot, but he’s single, so he must be flawed. Or have really high standards. Does he even date men?

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

He makes a soft snickering sound. “Sure.”

“Are you cool with gay people?”

He turns his gaze in my direction briefly. “Yes. People are just people. I base my decisions on how they behave, not who they love.”

I nod. “That’s good.” I chew on my lip for a second. “I am, just so you know.”

Wilder slows the car as we come to a stoplight. “I’m bisexual.”

A wave of heat spreads through me at his admission. Great. I have a crush on this man. It’s been way too long since I’ve even talked to a man, much less been this close to one so good looking. His air of mystery is a little intriguing too.

“Are you cool with bisexual people?” he asks, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes.” I laugh softly. “Definitely.”

“I considered myself to be a gay man for many years. I was firm in that decision, however, I fell for a woman and found that I was deeply attracted to her. It changed my entire perception of myself in the best of ways.”

“What happened with her?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches as he drives forward again, his fingers tight around the steering wheel. “She died.”

“Oh no. That’s so sad.”

“Of old age,” he adds.

Old age? So he likes to date older people? “Oh.”

“As I said earlier, I’m older than you think based on my appearance.”

“You could just tell me. It’s not like I’m gonna judge you or something.”

The corners of his lips turn up just a bit. “I doubt you’d understand.”

I pull my head back slightly. What’s there to understand about someone’s age? Before I can ask anything else, Wilder turns down a residential street lined with old, historic homes in the nicest part of the city. If this is where he lives, his family must come from money.

I watch through the windshield as Wilder navigates the somewhat narrow road before turning onto a cobbled driveway. It’s circular, and it wraps around the side of the house where I can just see a peek of the ocean view at the back.

“This is your house? Wicked nice.”

“Come inside.”

I scramble to exit the car and catch up with Wilder, noting his outfit again.

Black clothing from head to toe, a trench coat, and combat boots.

He looks like the sexy villain in an action movie.

Maybe he is the villain and this is all an elaborate trap.

I snort to myself. I’m pretty funny sometimes.

Wilder glances over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Something amusing?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

I stand behind him as he pulls keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, pushing it open and stepping inside. I follow him, finding myself in a mud room. I kick off my sneakers, but Wilder doesn’t remove anything, not even the trench coat.

After leaving the mudroom, I follow Wilder down a hallway and into a sitting room filled with what I assume are antiques, judging by their old world style. Wilder shrugs his trench off at that point, tossing it onto the couch.

The walls are lined with art and sculptures on marble pedestals, and there’s a glass cabinet filled with all sorts of expensive looking trinkets. I’m starting to wonder how he has so much wealth when his job is… chasing ghosts?

“I’ll show you to your room.”

I nod, gripping my bag, trailing behind the stoic man. The stairs are grand, curving as they ascend, leading to a large open space at the top. Past that are several closed doors with more paintings on the walls.

“Your place isn’t what I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?” Wilder glances over his shoulder as we walk down the hall.

I look over the banister at the open space in the center of the stairs. “Modern. Sleek. Like the way you dress.”

He pauses in front of a door, his hand on the knob. “I have a lot of family heirlooms, but you’ll see where I watch television. It may match your expectations more.”

I nod, stepping past him as he opens the door for me. The room smells musty, and it’s dark now that the sun is setting and the drapes are closed.

“As I said before, I’ll need to wash the bedding. The room hasn’t been used in some time.”

“I understand.” I set my bag down, glancing around the room. “You live in this big house by yourself?”

“I do.” He gathers the bedding, and I sneeze from the dust in the air. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I scrunch my nose. “Maybe I can open the window to air it out a bit?”

“By all means.”

I cross the room and pull the drapes open, waving the dust away from my face, then unlatch the window and push it up, inhaling the fresh breeze that blows in.

“That’s better.”

When I turn around, Wilder is sprinkling some kind of powder around the room.

“What are you doing?”

He startles as he looks up, as if he forgot I was here. “Protection.”

“From?”

“Anything. Promise me, no summoning spirits while you’re here.”

I feel my cheeks burn from embarrassment. “Promise.”

“Good. Get settled in as best you can while I start the laundry. I’ll call the cleaning service to come attend to the room tomorrow.”

“That’s not necessary. I can clean it.”

“You’ll be too busy. We have work to do.”

“Right.” I nod. “Is there a bathroom?”

“Hallway to your right.”

“Thanks.” Bending down, I open my gym bag and dig out my toothpaste, hair gel, and deodorant. When I stand up again, Wilder is gone. Dang, he’s stealthy.

I find my way to the bathroom; a small room with a pedestal sink, a toilet next to it, and a claw foot tub with a showerhead in the middle and a curtain that circles it. Very New England. It’s clean though, so that’s a plus.

I open the medicine cabinet above the sink and place my things inside, then splash a bit of water on my face before making my way back to the bedroom.

There’s a dresser against one wall so I guess I can put my clothes in there since nothing I brought is worthy of hanging in the closet.

There’s nowhere to set up my laptop, so I’ll have to ask Wilder where I can work while I’m here.

Movement from the window catches my eye, so I walk over to peer outside. In the tree next to the window there’s a bunch of crows hanging out. I think they’re crows. I get confused between crows and ravens.

Resting my hands on the windowsill, I lean forward until my forehead is pressed against the screen.

The largest of the birds turns its head in my direction, seemingly making eye contact as it twists its head back and forth.

Then it flaps its wings and leaves the tree, landing on the windowsill right in front of me.

The bird is large. Ravens are bigger than crows, right? I think so.

“Hey, little guy. Or big guy, actually.”

The bird continues twisting its head back and forth, looking at me with one eye then the other, before it ruffles its feathers and croaks a high pitched but guttural sound.

“I hope it’s okay that I’m here. You’re not used to seeing someone in this window, huh?”

The bird looks at me from the side, blinking its hazel eyes, then makes another noise, lower in register, almost like a human would grunt. Am I communing with nature? That’s pretty cool. I wonder if I can offer it something and make friends. Maybe Wilder has some fruit or nuts.

The bird squawks again, and then several more birds join it, crowding the windowsill, all looking into the room. Um, okay, maybe we’re not making friends?

I back away slowly, then gasp as Wilder rushes past me to the window. He presses his hand to the screen and the birds flutter and squawk wildly. Wilder nods, as if there was some communication between them I didn’t hear.

When he turns around, he looks a bit pale.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

Wilder nods, but given the tension in his features, I’m not sure I believe him. “Yes. The birds are messengers, if you will.”

“Messengers? How do you hear them?”

“I just do. Perk of the job, I suppose.”

I nod, wrapping my arms around myself. “Was it a bad message?”

“No, not exactly.” His brow creases as he glances at the birds, now silent but eerily watching us. “Have you ever been told you have an interesting connection to the spiritual world?”

“No. What kind of connection?”

“That’s yet to be determined.” He approaches me slowly, but his eyes roam across my features like he’s studying me. “You mentioned before with the medium, she had to end the session?”

I nod. “Yeah. She said there were a lot of spirits trying to get through.”

“And when you used the spirit board alone, you also drew many spirits to you.”

“According to you, yeah.”

“That isn’t typical. While it’s true that the spirit world is always looking for an opening to this realm, you seem to be a conduit of some sort.”

“Is that bad?”

“Depends on what you do with it. I would suggest avoiding spirit boards for the time being.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

“I may have some contacts that can help us understand it better. I’ve only encountered it a few times in my life.”

“Salem is full of people who can contact the spirit world.”

“Yes, but for you…” He pauses, his eyes flicking to the ceiling briefly, then back to me.

“The best way to explain it is that it’s like there’s a door.

You’re on one side of it and the spirit world is pressed up against the other side, waiting for you to open it, even just a crack.

In other words, they’re attracted to you. ”

My jaw drops while I process that information. “Is that why…” My breath gets caught in my throat before I can finish the sentence.

“Why what?”

“Nothing. Sometimes I think I see or hear stuff no one else does. It’s been going on since I was a kid. My grandma told me I was sensitive, that’s all.”

Wilder nods. “Sensitive is a good way to put it.”

“So it is my fault that my dad got through?”

“Not necessarily. When a Horror is motivated enough, they’ll find a way through.”

I feel a little sick to my stomach, so I just nod.

“You must be hungry,” Wilder says. “I can order something.”

“Whatever you want.” I blink several times and swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m not picky.”

“Thai?”

“That’s fine.”

Wilder places his hand on my shoulder. “You’re safe now, Keagan. I’m here to help.”

I nod. “I know.”

“The ravens will keep an eye on you too.”

I look at the window where three birds still sit. “They’re watching me?”

“Yes. They’ve always lived on this property, likely attracted by my profession. I consider them friends.”

“I was confused whether they were ravens or crows.”

“They are definitely ravens.”

“Cool. I could use a glass of water.”

“Of course. Follow me.”

As we descend the stairs, I feel a little better. I’m safe here. I don’t know why I trust Wilder, but he’s all I’ve got, so I guess I’m in. I do have questions though.

“Can you tell me more about your job?”

“In time.” He answers without looking at me. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day, no?”

“Guess so.”

At the bottom of the stairs, Wilder turns to face me. “For tonight, try to rest your mind. We’ll have dinner and I’ll get your room made up. You can watch TV if that helps.”

“That sounds good.”

“It’s going to be alright.” He squeezes my shoulder gently. “I’ve been in worse situations. I know what I’m doing.”

“I believe you.”