Possess Me Please (4 page)

I know. I know. We’re here, so shut it.

Isabelle pushed her keys into her purse and went inside. The diner was small and reminded her of a throwback from the sixties. The tables were a light turquoise color, and the curtains framing the windows were yellow and pink. The tiled green floor looked as though it had amoebas floating all over it. The diner would make a perfect backdrop for an episode of
The Twilight Zone
.

Choosing a small table in the corner, Isabelle waited only a short time before a waitress named Candy took her order. Five minutes later, a steamy plate of food and a mug of hot coffee were sitting in front of her. She wasted no time digging her fork into the fluffy eggs and crunching the crispy strips of bacon between her teeth. By most standards, it was late for breakfast, but that was what she was hungry for.

Isabelle daydreamed and reflected on life as she intermittently gazed out the window and ate. She’d missed out on normalcy in her life because of her gift. She never had close friends as a child since she had discovered her
abilities
early in life. At that young age, she hadn’t thought being able to hear ghosts was a big deal, or that it might make you a freak of nature to most other children—most
anyone,
for that matter. By the time she’d figured it out, it had been too late.

From that point on, she kept mostly to herself. Nina had been one of her only true friends, never looking at her like she was a freak when she did things like talk to spirits. Nina expressed concern for her safety but never treated her as if she were a weirdo or had the plague.

Nina’s being a witch was what allowed her to look at people with other abilities—people like Isabelle—in a different way from those who didn’t possess any kind of
supernatural
capability. Nina was a practicing witch, had been for years, and Isabelle found her talent fascinating. The woman was a natural at invoking spells and mixing potions. Nina was pure of heart and never did anything she thought would harm another. Isabelle would be lost without her best friend.

Isabelle had become quite fearful of losing the few people she loved. That was why she refused to allow Nina to teach her how to mix the anchoring potion. She didn’t want to think of reasons why Nina wouldn’t be around to make the potion for her, and that was her way of denying anything could ever happen to her friend.

It was silly, she knew. Life was delicate and could be snuffed out at any time. She tried hard to convince herself that even fate would not be cold enough to give her one true friend who accepted her for who she was, only to take that friend away. It was a naive notion, but one she wouldn’t budge from.

Isabelle had faced numerous trials throughout life. It had been no easy task being an orphan and dealing with her gift and with the people who gave her a hard time.

However, in all honesty, her gift had brought her just as much, if not more, joy than pain. Giving someone who’d lost a loved one the kind of closure or relief they never thought possible made it all worthwhile. Made every single moment she’d been taunted by others worth the pain. Every name she had been called, every scathing stare she had endured, faded, and she felt blessed knowing that she had helped others.

Chewing her last piece of toast, Isabelle wondered how different her life might be at this moment if she had been deaf to spirits. Normal. She wondered if she’d have a husband, maybe a kid or two, or if she’d still be sitting here by herself. There was still time for all of that, of course. She wasn’t past her prime at thirty.

But the chances of finding a guy who could deal with what she did were slim to none. Even if she did find a man who could accept what she did, wouldn’t he most likely have trouble sharing the body of the love of his life with spirits? She couldn’t deny that if the roles were reversed, knowing the possible dangers and risks her significant other would frequently be taking would probably drive her nuts.

She didn’t have a death wish by any means. Isabelle wanted to stay in her body, here on Earth, for as long as possible. But there were always potential dangers. She shivered when an unwanted memory of Stephen blinked through her brain. Sometimes, she wondered if he had been as horrible and depraved in life as he was in death. Maybe he was one of those who had been born evil, and it had simply been natural for it to cling to him even after he’d taken his last breath.

Another shiver slid through her body, and she gave herself a mental kick. If she continued thinking about him, her day would take a decidedly different turn, and she had to make an effort to block him from her thoughts.

After taking several deep breaths, then another sip of her coffee, Isabelle slipped enough money to cover the bill and a tip under the cup. She gathered her purse and left the diner, looking forward to getting back in her car and on the road.

* * * *

Bowling, Colorado was where Cyrus ended up stopping late the next morning. On his way, he’d found a truck stop where he arranged—via the ‘network’ for him and other demons to tap into—for delivery of a package, which included any ID he may need for his new life. Once that had been taken care of, he took a long overdue shower.

He was pleased with the results. Jimmy had decent skin under all the dirt, and Cyrus liked the way his unshaven, black whiskers shadowed his jaw, how the thick black lashes framed the clear gray color of his new eyes. A bonus was discovering that his new body was well endowed and in shape.

On the other hand, a haircut was a must, as were new clothes to replace the cheap jeans and T-shirt he had purchased in the gift store before bathing. He didn’t mind spending the money Jimmy had on him because Cyrus had every intention of making sure Daisy got all of it back as soon as possible.

After he found a local bank and set up an account, he was even happier about that shower. He wasn’t sure how the establishment would have greeted its new customer had he remained in his previously scraggly and smelly state. Although, once the manager had witnessed the large amount of money he’d transferred in from some of his other accounts, the man probably would have gotten over the stench.

Or he would have assumed me to be a crook and called the law.

Fortunately, money was something Cyrus would never be short of. It was amazing how much interest could be earned in a couple hundred years—and he’d been around much longer than that.

His next task was to get rid of the motorcycle. The cheap clothes would work well for that task. He liked to under dress when he bought a vehicle, and liked even more to see the surprised look on the salesman’s face when he paid for the car in cash. The motorcycle had been well cared for, and was probably Jimmy’s pride and joy. It was worth some cash, and Daisy was going to need all the help she could get to make a fresh start.

He wasn’t back on the road long when he spied a car dealer and pulled into the lot. He snorted when he saw the name of the place.
Jimmy Joe’s Dodge
—what a coincidence.

Cyrus swaggered into the showroom, enjoying the way his new body felt, and didn’t miss the way the hot blonde at the reception desk checked him out. He flashed her a smile and winked, then chuckled at the blush that suffused her cheeks.

One glance around the showroom revealed the car he’d be driving away in today. A brand spanking new, mean-as-hell looking
Challenger
.

Two hours later, Cyrus had test driven and bought the car. Before he left, he arranged for the dealer to deliver the motorcycle to the tiny trailer Daisy lived at, along with an envelope containing a wad of cash. He stepped into his new, badass car and peeled out of the lot.

He had performed two good deeds already, and he’d only been back in a body for a little over twelve hours. Daisy was free of Jimmy, and was getting Jimmy’s bike, plus cash, to help her out.

Next on Cyrus’s list was new clothes, then a temporary place to crash until he found permanent housing. He drove along the main street of town, appropriately named Main Street, until he found Marie’s Designer Clothing and steered into a parking space, vainly taking up two spots.

He didn’t want anyone putting door dings in his new baby the first day he had her. He was already bonding with the beast, and he didn’t want to see her all banged up.

He locked the door and activated the alarm before stepping onto the sidewalk. When he walked through the tinted double doors, he was glad to see that the store didn’t disappoint in its selections of clothing. Cyrus wasn’t big on shopping, but he knew fine quality when he saw it.

Within a couple of minutes, two saleswomen were competing for his attention. Was it because of his looks, the fact that they probably worked on commission, or a combination of both?

By the end of it, he’d had an entertaining couple of hours at the store. He left with several pairs of jeans, silk shirts, a soft-as-sin leather coat, gloves, a pair of leather pants, socks, underwear, and boots. Before he left, he’d disposed of the clothes he had worn in, and he now wore black jeans, a black shirt and the leather coat.

He loaded his purchases into the back seat of his car and walked the couple of blocks to the hair salon the saleswomen had given him directions to. One girl had an immediate opening, and before he knew it, the shaggy black hair on his head was cut into a close crop against his skull, with some spiky length left on top. He liked how the new ‘do went along with the stubble on his face.

When he went to pay, he asked the cashier if she knew where he could find a decent hotel to stay in.

Before she could answer, another woman’s voice came from behind him. “I have an enormous house. You could rent a room from me.”

Cyrus turned and found an older blonde woman, who he guessed to be in her mid to late sixties, standing behind him. Though she wore heavy makeup, she had a decent figure for her age. Her hair was freshly coiffed and appeared to have been sprayed into submission with hairspray.

He smiled. “I appreciate that, but I would hate to impose on you.”

“It would be no imposition. My husband recently died, and I’m all alone in that enormous house. It would put me at ease knowing someone was there other than myself.”

He wondered if that was all there was to it. He scanned her mind, but didn’t pick up on any ulterior motive—no desire to strip him naked and have her way with him. Nope. No cougar inside this one. Simply a need to not be alone. Since her husband’s death, she’d been lonely, and sometimes scared. She wanted to move, but felt guilty about doing so, since her husband had loved the house.

Maybe staying with her wouldn’t be a bad idea. Besides not having to find a hotel, he’d make her happy by relieving her loneliness for a time.

“I appreciate the offer.” He frowned when a thought occurred to him. “Do you often invite strange men into your home? How do you know I’m not some sort of criminal?”

She smiled. “For one, most criminals don’t stroll into town in a fancy car, make the president of the bank squeal in delight, buy up a ton of clothes at Marie’s, then stop by for a haircut.”

“How do you know all of that?” he asked, now intrigued.

“Don’t underestimate the speed of gossip. Besides, I have all of these witnesses now.” She waved her hands around the salon. “Girls, if my body shows up mutilated somewhere, make sure to send the fuzz after this man right here.” Looking at him, she added, “Even if you were a crook, I’m not gullible.”

He chuckled. “When can I move in?”

The woman visibly relaxed, as if she had been holding her breath in anticipation of his answer. “I’m Scarlett Young, by the way. Let me pay for my hair, and you can follow me back now if you wish.”

“That works perfectly for me.”

He waited for her to pay, held his arm out to her, and introduced himself while walking her to her car. She informed him that she already knew his name too, and after getting her settled in the driver’s seat, he made his way back to his own car and followed her back to his temporary digs.

Chapter Four

Isabelle sighed. It had been too long since she’d experienced the pleasant peacefulness of relaxation. The lack of stress was heaven. Having gotten the majority of the driving out of the way the day before, she’d spent most of the day antique browsing and museum visiting. She had even gone shopping—something she didn’t normally enjoy much—and had found a lovely dress she hadn’t been able to resist.

The buying-the-dress thing was even stranger than the shopping thing, since she couldn’t remember the last time she had occasion to wear an actual dress. The fabric had simply been too sensuous to walk away from. She had pictured the silky fabric flowing over her body, caressing it gently like a shy lover might. Wearing it would make her feel sexy, pretty, and confident. And didn’t every woman need to feel desirable at least once in a while?

Even if, more than likely, the dress would turn out to be an impulse buy that ended up in the back of her closet, forgotten.

Twenty minutes earlier, she had arrived at the hotel she’d stay at for the night. Bowling was only about an hour’s drive from the hotel, which also gave her the better part of tomorrow to relax before her session. Tonight, she planned on soaking in the Jacuzzi tub and reading the steamy romance book she had picked up earlier. It was nearly nine o’clock, and she was glad she’d stopped to eat dinner at a small cafe. She rummaged through her bag for an oversized T-shirt and silk panties—her favorite nightwear— and went to run the water for her bath.

After the temperature reached the exact steaminess required for the best soaking experience, Isabelle stripped off her clothes, got an extra towel to use as a makeshift neck pillow, and slowly immersed herself up to her shoulders. Once situated, she opened the book and began reading. She didn’t feel tired, but by the fifth page she could barely keep her eyes open. She never made it to the sixth page, as sleep quickly claimed her.

Within moments, the tall man who had saved her from Stephen the other night was again standing in front of her. His back was still to her, and when she called out to him or made any move to get closer, the distance between them mysteriously grew. Frustration settled in as curiosity gnawed away at her. She had only caught a glimpse of his profile, and she wanted to see him.