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Charmed

Charmed (Death Escorts #2)(61)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“What about you?” Storm asked.

“After you move the bodies and check on Frankie come back, that should buy us some time for you to show me how to get out of here.” I thought about telling him to warn Frankie about the Reaper and possibly tell her to get out of town. But I didn’t want to scare her. And I really didn’t think her leaving town would protect her. The Reaper would find her. Besides, I was hoping G.R. would be too busy searching to bother with her. The safest place for her was with me; I would keep her safe. “I need to get out of here,” I whispered to myself.

“I’ll hurry,” Storm promised as he moved toward a wall. I was envious at how easy he made it look. So envious that I tried to follow him, trying again to have some control. I ended up floating upward and getting stuck against the ceiling. I felt like a stupid balloon.

“Keep practicing,” Storm said, watching me. “Concentrate on giving yourself the feeling of weight.”

“Give Frankie a message for me,” I called as he slid halfway through the wall. The words rushed out of me quickly and then he was completely gone. I didn’t know if he heard what I said, but I hoped he did and I hoped she understood the message when she heard it.

Don’t give up on me yet, I thought.

Then I started concentrating.

Chapter Forty

“Borrow – to adopt or use as one’s own.”

Frankie

I almost expected it to be the cops. That they somehow figured out I was harboring a body in my house and they had come to drag Piper and me off to jail.

I stood behind the door, wishing I had a peephole so I could at least prepare myself for whatever I was about to be accused of. I cast a glance at Piper who was standing behind me, a worried look on her face.

The person banged on the door again and I jumped. “I know you’re in there, Frankie. Open the door!”

I frowned at the unfamiliar voice calling my name.

That settled it. The only strangers that could know my name were cops. “Go hide,” I whispered to Piper.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s not suspicious,” she retorted.

This time when he banged on the door, he didn’t stop, just kept on hammering.

I took a breath and yanked it open, trying to look surprised as to why a group of cops would be on my doorstep.

There was no group. There were no cops. Just a man, a lone man standing there with a look of impatience (and constipation?) on his face.

“Can I help you?” I asked tentatively.

“Me?” he said. “No. But I’ve come with a message from Charming. And to collect… what I left here.”

It wasn’t often someone rendered me speechless. I don’t think a complete stranger ever managed it, until now. I stood there staring at him, trying to decide the best way to answer him. He let out a sigh and walked in the apartment, his gaze going directly to Piper and holding for long moments.

“Excuse me?” I managed, drawing his attention away from her.

“You might want to shut the door,” he said, glancing at me.

I did and walked farther into the room, not once taking my eyes off of him. I searched my mind for any kind of recollection, some kind of memory of meeting him or seeing him somewhere.

He was tall, well over six feet. He was lanky, not at all that muscular, and was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He had sneakers on his feet and sandy-colored hair. There wasn’t anything remarkable about his appearance, but the words that came out of his mouth were.

“My name is Storm. I work with Charming.”

“You’re a Death Escort?” I asked, taking in the look of pain on his face. He didn’t look like a killer. He looked like he needed to sit down.

“Sort of,” he said. “Listen, do you mind if I drop the body?”

I glanced at Piper who shrugged and then I looked back at him. “Ummm, sure?”

He let out a great sigh and then dropped his head onto his chest and closed his eyes. I was about to tell him this wasn’t the best time for yoga or meditation, but then something weird happened.

Black smoke started leaking from his ears. It puffed out, curling up around his head where it formed a dark cloud. Then it began curling out his nose, in great long tendrils that rose up to join the growing mass of black.

“What the hell?” I said, reaching for Piper and pulling her over toward me and the door. We weren’t going to be like those idiot virgins who ran farther into their house when a killer was after them. We’d be going out the door.

The black cloud kept growing, until it pretty much surrounded the body, swirling around like smoke. And then the man dropped to the floor. He fell in a heap, landing in a tangle of limbs, right there beside my couch.

Now not only was there a body in my closet, but one in my living room, right next to a black cloud thingy.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” I whispered to Piper and yanked her to the door. As my hand closed around the handle, the man/cloud thingy spoke.

“Whew, thanks. That guy did not like to share.”

I glanced down at the body and then back up. “You have exactly two seconds to explain before I start screaming my head off.”

“If you were gonna scream, you would already be doing it.”

“You said you work with Charming?” I asked, not acknowledging he was right. “And how is it you can talk?”

“I’m a Ghost Escort. An Escort who doesn’t have a body. I don’t kill people. I just watch them for the Reaper. And I have no idea how my voice works. It just does.”

“You watch people,” I repeated.

“Yes. Not having a body and being black makes it easy to stick to the shadows and remain unseen.”

“But we can see you,” I pointed out.

“That’s because I’m letting you.”

“What about him?” I said, gesturing to the body. “Is he dead?”

“Nah, just out of it. We should probably put him outside. He’s probably going to wake up soon.”

“We?” I said.

“Well, I don’t exactly have arms to move him.”

“Right.” I went over and grabbed the man by his arms and dragged his body toward the front door. Piper was there to open it and then took one of his arms and helped me pull him the rest of the way out into the hall, where we left him, and went back into my apartment and closed the door.

“You’re sure he isn’t dead?” I asked again, picturing one of my neighbors coming home and screaming at his body lying there.

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