Page 9 of Ghosted AF
Despite their bickering and name-calling, I could hear the undercurrent of affection they shared beneath all that sibling posturing. It was actually kind of sweet, but I doubted either would take that as a compliment.
It also didn’t sound as if they really needed me there for the conversation either.
“I’m going to go get ready for work,” I said to no one in particular. “And I guess I should call the front office,” I added under my breath.
“About the maintenance guy?”
A sigh bubbled from my lips as I nodded. I didn’t look forward to it, but it had to be done.
“Hold off on that.”
“But—”
“Just for now,” Caius said, brushing a lock of hair away from my eyes. “If it ends up being necessary, I’ll take care of it.”
“Really?” I perked up, so relieved I barely noticed the way my stomach cartwheeled from his casual touch.
“Really,” he echoed with a crooked grin. “Don’t stress about it. That’s why I’m here, right?”
“Right.” I took a deep breath and released it slowly, feeling about a million pounds lighter. “I still need to get ready for my shift, though.” I glanced at Lucius and smiled. “It was nice to meet you.” As I turned to walk away, I paused next to Caius and reached out to touch his forearm. “Thank you.”
Then I hurried out of the entryway without looking at him, doing my best to ignore the way my hand warmed and tingled from the contact.
four
~ Caius ~
Somecasescalledforbrute force, while others required finesse. Getting it wrong didn’t necessarily mean failure, but it did make the job more complicated.
And I had complicated the hell out of my current job.
Dousing the entire apartment in arcane magic without knowing the source of the disturbance had been a rookie mistake. What I had incorrectly assumed was a weak signature, I now knew to be purposeful distance.
I could still sense the presence, could feel it lurking at the edges of my awareness, but it always remained just beyond my reach. That made it nearly impossible to get an accurate read, but the behavior itself did provide some useful information.
For starters, it indicated intelligence, which ruled out any kind of charm, hex, or curse. It avoided me, but it hadn’t left, meaning it wanted something. I stood by my claim that this wasn’t a haunting, which didn’t leave a lot of other options.
While rare, Elementals still existed. With the ability to transform into literal wind, an air spirit like a sylph could have caused the scene I’d walked in on that first night. I knew Elementals to be pretty docile, though, and I couldn’t think of a good reason one would attack Rylee.
Some magic users had the ability to astral project—a fairly new term for soul casting—but it was temporary and required immense concentration.
Quite a few shadelings could cloak themselves from most forms of detection, but they would still have to be physically present. The thought that another person could be inside the apartment at that very moment unsettled me more than I wanted to admit.
I also had to consider the timing of when the maintenance worker went missing. It felt too coincidental not to be related.
“Tell me more about Mykal.”
Tucked into the cushions at the end of the sofa, Rylee looked up from his phone with a confused frown. “Like what? I didn’t really know him that well.”
“You said he’s a shadeling?”
His brow furrowed to match his frown, and he tilted his head. “You really think he’s still alive?”
“I’m sure of it.”
Even the most peaceful death left a scar, an ugly one, and I didn’t sense anything like that in the apartment. Well, not recent anyway, but Rylee didn’t need to know about that.
“I really hope you’re right. I mean, obviously, I don’t want him to be dead, but selfishly, I’d feel bad for not reporting it if he was.” He set his phone down beside his leg with a sigh. “Plus, it’s probably illegal. Unless I don’t know for sure that he’s dead?”
