Page 22 of Deceiver (Soul Chasers #2)

Keagan

I t’s taken me a while to snap out of whatever overtook me earlier today when I jumped all over Wilder, but I can’t say it wasn’t worth it. In fact, it was kind of amazing. I’m just not exactly sure how it started.

I step into the shower in the hallway bathroom, closing my eyes as the hot water falls around me, and try to remember everything that happened earlier.

Obviously, I remember what I did, what I wanted to do, but I don’t remember how I got from taking a nap to climbing all over my hot savior.

He didn’t seem to mind though, so I guess that’s okay.

My moods are scattered still, swinging from hungry to horny and back again. I press my hands to the shower wall, letting the steamy water work out the knots in my neck and back, and I drift back to the strange dream I had earlier, but it’s already fading, almost like it didn’t really happen.

I want to go back to my house and see what’s going on, but at the same time, I kind of don’t.

If what Wilder and everyone is telling me is true, then I’m some kind of magnet for spirits, and that doesn’t sound like a good time.

But I’ll have to face it eventually. I can’t hide out in Wilder’s house forever. Probably.

After my shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and plop down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating how I got here.

In some ways, it’s all my dad’s fault. I never would have pursued any of the occult stuff if it hadn’t been for what happened with him.

All I wanted was to know the truth, and I’m still very far from that.

Leave it to an absent father to still fuck things up for me, even after death.

Doesn’t matter though. It is what it is, and I’m hoping if I go back to the house, I can get the answers I need before Wilder does his job. And I have to let Wilder do his job. It’s not like my dad can just stay here now that he’s dead, even if he doesn’t believe he is.

As soon as I think that, my chest tightens and a stabbing pain moves to the center of my back. I gasp, clutching my chest, wondering if somehow, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine, I’m having a heart attack.

Before I can panic too much though, the air turns blurry right before my eyes, like I’m looking ahead on the highway on a hot day, and the outline of a man appears.

I immediately recognize it as my dad.

“Dad, how did you get here?”

My mind reminds me that there’s supposedly a protection spell on this house.

“You think that witch can keep me away from you?” His body is hazy, but his voice is as clear as day.

I squint to make him out a little better. It’s like he’s standing in thick fog. I can see him, but he’s obscured.

“What do you mean?”

“That so-called spell she pulled isn’t strong enough to keep me away. I’m stronger than she thinks.”

“How?”

“I have you. It was you summoning all those other spirits that helped me out. I was able to use their energy. Now I can go anywhere I want.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I say, even as foreboding spreads through me. “Um, how are you?”

Is that a thing you can ask a dead person?

“Listen, Keagan, we’re wasting time. We need to get going on this project, and the sooner you get out of captivity, the better.”

“I’m not being held captive, Dad.”

“Aren’t you? He’s telling you what to do. He’s keeping you away from your own house. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like captivity to me.”

“It’s not. I’m here because I want to be. It’s protection.”

“Protection from what? Your own father? I would never hurt you. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“That man is Wilder. I told you his name.”

“I don’t care about his name. I only care about you.”

I shake my head in frustration. Why does he care now that he’s gone?

“Even if I’m safe with you, you can’t stay, Dad. It’s not right.”

“I’ll decide what’s right.”

“What do?—”

There’s a noise coming from outside the bedroom, and I see my dad’s form flicker.

“We don’t have much time,” he says. “He’s going to sense that I’m here. Here’s what I need you to do.”

I lean in, waiting to hear commands, but all I get is an overwhelming sense of coldness that makes goose bumps break out along my flesh. Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself, looking around the room for where my dad went, but I don’t see him anymore.

Instead, it’s like I feel him.

“Dad? Where did you go?” I glance around. “Are you still here?”

The room is icy cold, my breath appearing in puffs every time I speak. I’m pretty sure that’s a sign that he’s still here, but I can’t see him.

I go to stand up, but I immediately fall to my knees, gasping. What the hell is happening? I need to call for Wilder, but panic is spreading through me as my limbs grow heavy and unmovable.

I stare up at the ceiling, silently screaming for Wilder to come help me, and wondering why the protection spell isn’t working.

The bedroom door flies open seconds later, and Wilder is beside me, scooping me up into his arms and mumbling “Fuck” as he carries me from the bedroom.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, I’m only vaguely aware of what’s going on before I black out again.

My body feels like it’s floating, but then I realize it’s because Wilder’s still carrying me.

The farther we get from the bedroom, the more insistent the tugging in my chest is, and I claw at my skin, muttering, trying to tell Wilder what’s wrong.

The next thing I know, everything around me is completely dark. My body is lighter now, almost as if I don’t have a body anymore, and I wonder if maybe I’ve died.

Is this what it feels like?

“Keagan. Keagan, open your eyes.”

Wilder’s voice cuts through the darkness, drawing me back to awareness as I force my eyes open and gaze up at him. His face is a mask of concern, his brow furrowed, lips tight.

“There you are,” he says, smiling softly.

“What happened?” I choke out.

“I’m not sure. Nothing should be able to get to you here, but yet it did.”

“I remember…” The memory of the conversation I was having just seconds before the world turned dark comes back to me. “It’s my dad,” I whisper.

“What do you mean?” Wilder asks. “Your dad can’t get to you here.”

I nod. “He can. He’s here. And stronger.”

Wilder brushes my hair from my forehead. “You saw him here?”

“Talked to him.” I cough, and Wilder hands me a glass of water, helping me drink it. “He said he’s stronger than the witch knows. He said he… he borrowed energy from?—”

My voice cracks again, and Wilder mutters, “Shit. He borrowed energy from the other spirits.”

I nod. “Yeah, he said something like that.”

“Fucking hell,” Wilder grumbles. “I’m pretty sure I know what’s wrong and how he was able to get here, but I’ll need confirmation.”

“I need to go to my place.”

“I think you should rest a little bit more.”

I shake my head. “No. I need to go to my house. I need to be there.”

“What for?”

“Because I said. I don’t need a reason.”

Wilder raises an eyebrow. “Keagan, I think you’re being manipulated. For now, I think you should just?—”

A sudden surge of rage grips me. I sit up abruptly, wrapping my hands around Wilder’s collar.

“Stop telling me what to do. I’m a grown man, and I can go to my own house if I want to. I’m not a prisoner.”

Wilder’s eyes go wide, but he nods, holding his hands up in surrender. “Right. Of course you can go there if you want to.”

“Okay then.” The tightness in my chest subsides. “Now.”

“You should probably put some clothes on.”

I look down at myself, naked except for a towel wrapped around my waist. “I’ll get dressed.”

“I’ll call Calliope.”

“Calliope doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing.”

The words burst out of my mouth, startling me as much as they seem to startle Wilder.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

Wilder watches me with a concerned look on his face.

“I’ll get dressed. Be right back.”

“I’ll be here.”

I trudge up the stairs with a sense of disconnect from my own body clinging to me.

I have no idea what’s going on right now, but I do know that I have the strongest feeling that I need to be back at my own house.

Obviously, Wilder can’t protect me from here anyway, and my dad can go wherever he wants.

As I dress, I rub the center of my chest. The tugging sensation is different now, but still there, still making itself known.

Maybe if I just do what my dad needs, he’ll find peace. Then he can go back to where he’s supposed to be, but he needs me right now. This is probably my only chance to get closure on this part of my life, and I need to seize it, even if it’s a little dangerous.