Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set (12 page)

The man didn’t even flinch. I walked behind the couch and
looked over his shoulder to see what he was reading. He was staring at models
in bikinis in a swimsuit advertisement.

“Pervert,” I said into his ear. “Tell me, are you a
pervert, sir?”

I blew into the handsome man’s ear. I stuck my tongue out
a bit and flicked it back and forth over his earlobe. He let a quick breath out
and took a deep breath in, but I couldn’t tell if it was me or the bathing
beauties causing his reaction.

“Do you feel that,” I said. “Can you feel me?”

I touched the man’s shoulders and gave him a massage. I
turned and looked at James.

“I can feel him,” I said. “I can feel him as if I was
alive.”

“Of course you can, Sophia. And may I remind you, again,
that I can hear you.”

“Quick,” I said, “what’s his name?”

“How should I know?” James said and walked toward me.

“Can’t you read people’s minds?”

“I couldn’t before and I can’t now. Could you read
people’s minds before you were killed?”

“Do you think if I was able to read people’s minds before
I was killed, I would have allowed myself to be killed?”

“No,” James looked down at his feet and chuckled, “I
suppose not. Anyway, I cannot read minds and neither can you, obviously. Shall
we move on?”

I turned back to the man and dug my fingertips into his
muscular shoulders.

“Maybe I’ll see you later, whatever your name is,” I said
into his ear and sucked on his ear lobe. “Have fun with the girls.”

I ran through the lobby and caught up with James.

“Hey, if I run toward someone will I go straight through
them? Will they feel that?”

“Why don’t you try it, Sophia? Try and run through that
strapping older fellow over there.”

James pointed to an old man standing beside the copper
wishing fountain in the middle of the lobby.

“Okay. Should I take a running leap or just walk through?”

“Uh, running leap,” James said and rubbed his chin. “A
long, running leap.”

I ran from James, past the old man, to the far end of the
lobby.

“Hey, I won’t hurt him, will I? He’s kind of old.”

“Nah, he should be fine, Sophia. On my count?”

“Yep,” I said and prepared myself for the sprint.

“Okay...ready, set, go, Sophia, run!”

I ran as fast as I could toward the man and felt all those
urges you have when you’re about to run into something full speed. But I
pressed through and kept my eyes open, wanting to experience the feeling of
running through someone. What would I feel? Would I rip through his skin, his
organs, his bones? Would I hurt him?

I thought of all of this as I bulldozed toward the man
like a train running down someone tied to the tracks. He looked into my eyes as
if he sensed me and I ran right into him at full-speed.

And, like a pigeon flying into a window, I bounced off the
man’s chest and landed with a thud on the marble floor.

I stared up at the brilliant chandelier that mesmerized me
when Brandt and I first entered the Battleroy. James walked toward me, his
shoes clicking on the marble. He stood over me, obstructing the light and
peered into my face.

“Jesus, are you okay?” James said, stifling a laugh. “How
do you feel?”

“It hurts,” I said. “It hurts just the same as if I did
this yesterday before, well, you know.”

“I can imagine,” James said and laughed. “I wish you could
have seen yourself. Fucking hilarious.”

“You knew what would happen,” I said.

“Yes,” James said and bit his lower lip.

“You’re a rat.”

“Yes. Here, let me help you.”

James grabbed my arm and lifted me off the floor. He
straightened out my dress and fixed my hair.

“All better?” he said and kissed me on the cheek.

“I suppose,” I said. “You’re still a rat for playing that
trick, though.”

“I know.”

I looked over at the front desk and stared at a young couple
nuzzling each other while they checked into the hotel.

“Best forget about that now. That life is not yours any
longer,” James said.

“Yes,” I said and sighed. “Why do we still have to feel
and remember? I mean, in every way I’m the same as any other human, but--”

“You’re not,” James said.

“I’m not. My heart hurts when I think of what they’ve done
to me. This betrayal knocks the wind out of me. They didn’t have to do this.”

“But they did,” James said. “There is nothing you can do
to reverse the course. You are different now.”

“But not that much different. I have not changed
emotionally. Where’s the benefit to this life? Where’s the tradeoff? Isn’t
there at least a reward system based on when and how someone was killed?”

“Don’t I wish,” James said. “A virgin bride on her
honeymoon, murdered by her husband’s lover should certainly win some kind of
prize.”

“See, you get it.”

“Yes, but it isn’t so,” James said and stared at the
honeymooners. “Fucking love, huh?”

“Yeah, fucking love,” I said and walked toward the front
door of the hotel.

“Are you sure you’re okay,” James asked as we walked
outside.

“I guess so,” I said and rubbed my sore backside. “I guess
it was a lesson I had to learn. What are the other rules; I mean, other than
not running into the humans?”

“As with any society, there are laws. Ours is no
different,” James said and gestured toward a path leading into a thick wooded
area. “Want to walk through the forest?”

“Sure. Not like I have to be anywhere.”

James and I walked along a gravel path strewn with pine
needles. The path wound through some beautiful trees and there were copper
plaques placed at the bases of various trees and flowering plants which gave
guests of the hotel some fun facts to take home to their bridge friends.

Such as:

“Harriet, did you know that the Pipsissewa, or
Chimaphila
maculata
, to be specific, grows absolutely wild on the Cape?”

“Why, I sure didn’t, Lois. Isn’t that something? Bridge!”

The temperature in the forest was cool and damp and we
walked along the windy path going deeper and deeper, still. We passed two
lovers making out on one of the many benches laid out for the guests to indulge
in such behavior.

“Yuck,” I said as we walked by. “So, the rules?”

“Well,” James said and plucked a long blade of grass out
of the ground and chewed on the end, “you may do nothing to alert the humans to
our presence.”

“Really?” I said and laughed. “Like what? It’s not like
they can see, feel or hear us.”

He turned around to face me and walked backwards down the
path.

“For instance, you notice a particularly fashionable
female staying at the hotel and you feel the need to, say, raid her closet,
well, that is against the rules.”

“What?” I said. “Are you seriously telling me that
stealing is against the rules? I thought one of the trademarks of ghostly
behavior was mischief-making.”

James laughed.

“You, are one funny girl. No, stealing is not against the
rules and yes, mischief is fine. That particular behavior is only forbidden
because, what would the guests see if you went into Room 394 and slipped into
Mrs. Alberti’s red ball gown and took a stroll around the hotel?”

“They would see Mrs. Alberti’s red ball gown floating
around the hotel?” I said.

“Yes, exactly. The same thing would happen if I decided to
steal Mr. Bramley’s Sting Ray or don Mr. Washington’s fedora.”

“I bet you look handsome in a grey flannel fedora,” I said
and smiled.

“Oh, I do,” James said and winked. “But you see, doing
those things would alert the guests to our presence. And then? Mayhem! The
witch hunt wasn’t that long ago, you know. So, when we travel in the light, if
we are holding or wearing any earthly possession, we travel via the underground
tunnels or the side stairs. During the night, we aren’t as restricted as we are
in the light.”

We came to a beautiful natural arbor. Lush green grass
grew on either side of the gravel path that crunched under our shoes as we
walked. A low barrier made of stone and ancient columns, guarded the tall
trees. Thick, ropy vines that climbed up and over the trees, intertwined
overhead and created a dark, woody canopy under which we walked.

“But wait,” I said and looked down at my dress, “what
about these clothes? Why aren’t they seen?”

“That which belonged to us in life, so too does in death,”
James said. “Within reason, of course. What we brought to the Battleroy, your
dress, my suit, those we were things we were--”

“Killed in,” I said.

“Yep,” James said and looked around the arbor. “Here, try
this.”

He plucked a colossal purple berry off a vine and pressed
it against my lips.

“What is it?”

“Blueberry,” he said as he stared at my mouth, “bred by
the Battleroy’s horticulturist.”

I parted my lips and curled the tip of my tongue under the
berry and sucked it in. The blueberry filled my mouth and when I bit down, it
exploded. Sweet juice ran out of the corner of my mouth and onto my chin. James
reached out and swiped his thumb over my chin and popped his thumb into his
mouth.

“Good, isn’t it?” he said and sucked on his thumb.

“Amazing,” I said and savored the sweetness of the
blueberry. “Like nothing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Perhaps because you never bothered to experience fully
before?”

“I want more,” I said.

“You can have as many as you want,” James said and smiled.
“As long as there are no humans around.”

I picked more berries off the vine and stuffed them all in
my mouth. Gallons of thick, sugary fresh blueberry juice ran down my throat and
chin as I ate the berries.

“Fantastic,” I said as I wiped my sticky lips on the back
of my hand. “Tell me more.”

“Okay,” he said and took my arm. “Here, let’s go down this
path toward the lake.”

We walked down a sandy path to the right of the arbor.
Three long docks stood side-by-side and there were lovely white swan row boats
tied to the sides of the docks.

“Oh, I wish we could take a boat! They’re beautiful.”

“We can. Late at night when the others are asleep and the
lake is off limits to the guests, I’ll take you to the Fairy Tale Island,”
James said and pointed to a small island across the lake.

“Fairy Tale Island?”

“Yes, that’s what they call it. Not my idea,” James said.
“It’s kind of cool in a fairy tale sort of way, if you’re into fairy tales.”

“I’m not,” I said.

“Well, then you don’t have to go. Although, everyone who
goes loves the Fairy Tale Island. It’s magical.”

The sun was bright and warm and James and I walked to the
end of one of the docks and sat down on the edge. The swan boats bobbed around
us and I looked down into the water past my dangling feet.

“Yep, same girl,” I said as I stared at my reflection in
the water.

“Same beautiful girl,” James said into my ear.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Okay, so more stuff,” James said and took his suit jacket
off. “Well, I basically covered it--no wearing or picking up any human object
when humans are around and absolutely no going beyond the grounds.”

“What will happen?”

“What, if you go beyond the grounds?” James said and lay
back on the dock.

“Yes,” I said and lay next to him.

He twisted toward me and came up on one elbow.

“Your head will explode!” he said and tickled me. “And
then you will be cursed to wander the grounds of the Battleroy for eternity
without a head.”

“Ichabod Pearson-Therrault,” I said and giggled. “It feels
nice to be touched.”

“Yes, always,” James said and smiled.

I turned my head toward the sun and closed my eyes. The
sun covered me in heat and I remembered the times my family summered on
Martha’s Vineyard. I bathed in the sun for hours until my mother staggered
across the grounds toward me, martini sloshing out of the glass, and
reprimanded me because my skin would turn to leather and no man would want me.
She always followed with a ridiculous postscript about a friend of a friend’s
brother or cousin or servant who lost their sight from staring into the sun.

“So-and-so used to have perfect vision, Sophia,” Mother
slurred, “until the sun burned the corneas. Rendered blind, Sophia. The sun
melts eyes.”

I forced my eyes open and stared at the sun. I waited for
the burn, for the melting to commence. Through solar flares and great waves of
photospheric heat, I had a staring contest with the sun. And my eyes would have
burned the sun before the sun burned my eyes.

I looked over at James and smiled.

“No spots,” I said as I saw his beautiful face as clear as
glass and unobstructed by my minutes of sun worship.

“No, no spots,” he said. “Wait until you see the moon for
the first time or the stars.”

James put his arms behind his head. I turned toward him
and stared at his body, stretched long and looking hard on the dock.

“James?”

“Yes?” he said and yawned as he arched his back.

“What happened to you?”

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“Yes, after you tell me.”

“Sophia...”

“Obviously, we are going to spend a lot of time together
and you know everything that happened to me, so I would like to know what
happened to you.”

“Are you always a nosey Parker?” James said and closed his
eyes.

“Curious,” I said. “I much prefer curious.”

“I was here at the Battleroy Hotel with a woman. She had a
husband. He caught us. He shot me, right here,” he said and pointed to his
chest. “I died. End of story.”

“Where is she?” I said.

“She survived. Told the husband I forced myself on her.
Kidnapped her, if you can believe it. Who kidnaps someone and takes them to a
fucking luxury hotel?”