Flicker
Table of Contents
Copyright © 2014 by Courtney Houston
Prologue
Lina 1
Lina 2
Telor 3
Lina 4
Telor 5
Lina 6
Lina 7
Telor 8
Lina 9
Telor 10
Lina 11
Lina 12
Lina 13
Telor 14
Lina 15
Telor 16
Lina 17
Telor 18
Lina 19
Telor 20
Lina 21
Telor 22
Lina 23
Telor 24
Lina 25
Telor 26
Lina 27
Lina 28
Telor 29
Lina 30
Lina 31
Telor 32
Lina 33
Telor 34
Lina 35
Telor 36
Lina 37
Telor 38
Lina 39
Telor 40
Lina 41
Telor 42
Lina 43
Lina 44
Lina 45
Lina 46
Lina 47
Hey Guys!
Contents
Copyright © 2014 by Courtney Houston
Prologue
Lina 1
Lina 2
Telor 3
Lina 4
Telor 5
Lina 6
Lina 7
Telor 8
Lina 9
Telor 10
Lina 11
Lina 12
Lina 13
Telor 14
Lina 15
Telor 16
Lina 17
Telor 18
Lina 19
Telor 20
Lina 21
Telor 22
Lina 23
Telor 24
Lina 25
Telor 26
Lina 27
Lina 28
Telor 29
Lina 30
Lina 31
Telor 32
Lina 33
Telor 34
Lina 35
Telor 36
Lina 37
Telor 38
Lina 39
Telor 40
Lina 41
Telor 42
Lina 43
Lina 44
Lina 45
Lina 46
Lina 47
Hey Guys!
Shout Outs
Sneak Peak of Paper Dolls!
Copyright © 2014 by Courtney Houston
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book can be used or reproduced in any form, or by any means electronic or mechanical, including, photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission from the author except where permitted by law, with the exception of brief quotations used for review purposes.
Published by:
Courtney Houston
PO BOX 197253
Louisville, KY 40259
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any Similarity to persons, either living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover design by Marisa Robyn at Cover Me Darling
Edited by Lea Burn at Burn Before Reading
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Courtney Houston
Flicker
ISBN-13: 978-1500296896
ISBN-10: 1500296899
Prologue
21 Years Ago
The mist that perpetually lingered throughout Tori’s side of The Other was thicker than usual today. Not that it was an issue for her. She stalked up the walk to her home, blowing the doors open with a swift gust of wind, and entered the main room. Needing to release some of the tension that had built up in her body, she kicked the door closed, taking satisfaction in the way the bang rang off the high ceilings of the foyer.
Denny is up to something, she thought. She couldn’t explain how or why she knew, but she knew. It had something to do with that new soul, the attractive fellow. Denny wasn’t as eager to offer him a place under his ranks of glorified finger painters as he usually was. Laughing, Tori pondered the situation. It wouldn’t remain a mystery for much longer. Sooner or later, she’d figure it out. And when she did, Denny would be sorry for trying to get one past her.
Pacing the length of her great room, Tori sent a summons for her newest Guide. She needed to speak to the boy, get a feel for him. One minute passed, no Guide. Two minutes, still no Guide. Unfortunately for him, her patience was as thin as her temper was thick. She sent another more forceful summons, hoping he would get the hint. Less than a minute later, he materialized in a heap of tattered clothes on the floor in front of her fireplace.
The Guide gasped for air, as if trying to fill his lungs for a moment before he remembered he didn’t need to breathe. He pulled himself upright and turned to Tori, keeping his head bowed.
“Look at me,” Tori demanded.
Slowly, the boy lifted his face. His features were striking.
Shaking her head, Tori discarded her wayward thoughts. “Your name?”
He flinched at her soft words as though someone had struck him. “Telor Conway,” he said. For his flighty body language, his voice was unexpectedly strong, commanding even.
A slow smile curved Tori’s lips. “Telor, why do you look as though you have been tossed around a bit?”
“There was an incident with an unclaimed attempting to take a soul. We were able to stop it,” he replied, loud and clear.
“Were you injured?” She gestured to his dirty, ripped clothes. “You look a little worse for the wear, and your entrance was less than graceful.”
“I was not injured. I haven’t gotten the hang of the…traveling yet.” His eyes shifted away from her briefly.
“Very well. You may return to your position,” she said, flicking her hand as though he was a bother. “I’d like for you to check in with me every couple of weeks.”
“Yes, ma’am…” He sounded almost afraid of her.
Good, Tori thought, knowing that fear bred obedience. She didn’t need her souls happy; she needed them to do their jobs. The others could take a page from her book in that department; they were forever having trouble with their souls. Tori wasn’t surprised, they coddled them too much to expect anything different.
“I apologize,” he continued, “I wasn’t informed that checking in was a requirement.”
“It’s only a requirement for you, love,” she said, giving his cheek a little pat, purposely not meeting his eyes. His mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to ask why, but it finally remained closed. It struck Tori as both welcoming and annoying that this boy even dared to think of questioning her. For being so young to the afterlife, he certainly seemed to be adjusting well enough. Perhaps there was something special about him after all. “You may leave now.”
Without any further prompting, Telor dissolved into mist.
Nothing—that was what the visit had yielded. Tori was no closer to getting the answers she desired. Her resolve not to notice him had also been unsuccessful. Under the dirty face and ruined clothing was a chiseled square jaw, piercing eyes, and a body laced with lean muscle.
She would keep an eye on the Guide and watch him a little more carefully than the rest. She would find out what Denny was up to, why this soul was different. No one deceived her and got away with it, no one.
Lina 1
It was Friday. New Year’s Eve, to be exact. I should have been at Stickshift downing Cherry Bombs with my roommates, Jilsey and Gavin. Instead, I
was in the musty, dirty catacombs of Saebo American History Museum, and the only thing I was downing was coffee.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my job. I worked my ass off, logging more unpaid hours than I could count to earn my spot. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was pretty damn good at it, too. Long hours and a lack of sunlight and fresh air were a small price to pay. With the exception of tonight, since if I’d had my way, I’d have been gone hours ago. But when the boss looks like she’s settling in for a long night, you do the same.
Seline Giles, my boss and the curator, had recently received a grant to excavate the miles of tunnels under downtown Saebo. She was good at her job, and as far as I knew, she never slept, functioning solely on adrenaline and caffeine. Lucky for me, Catalina Franklin, newly promoted Museum Technician, I got to help.
Sitting dutifully at my makeshift desk, I cataloged the artifacts the team had brought up earlier. All they’d managed to recover today were some wine bottles, old newspapers, and a box of clothes that had seen better days.
"Lina, I'm going to go grab more coffee so I can finish the daily report. Are you almost done?" she asked, standing and stretching her back like a cat.
"Yes, ma'am. I only have about six more," I said, pulling the half-full box of wine bottles closer.
"Very good. You can leave when you're done. It's past midnight. You should get home to that delicious boy of yours.”
“Gavin isn’t my boy,” I sighed. “We’re just…roommates.”
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she teased, winking. “The team is off tomorrow—well, today...” She shook her head at their audacity to request a holiday off. “So, we won’t have much to do. I suppose we should take the rest of the weekend off as well. We will be pulling a lot of early mornings and late nights for the next couple of weeks. Happy New Year, Lina," she said, smiling and climbing the ladder up to the basement of the museum.
"Happy New Year," I said, toasting her with my empty soda can.
After midnight? I swore it was only eleven the last time I’d looked at the clock. After finishing my last bottle, I packed my bag and headed out. My suppressed excitement at tonight was starting to bubble over. Most of my downtime was spent at home. The three of us were hardly ever able to go out together and I didn’t like to go out on my own. Even though I was smart enough to not get behind the wheel drunk, not everyone else was. I didn’t want to take the chance of being too intoxicated to notice someone was about to run me over. I made an exception for tonight—since it was a holiday and all.
The museum was deserted, everyone sane long gone. My footsteps on the marble floors echoed throughout the hallway. It amazed me how I could still be so taken with the beauty of this place after all the time I’d spent here. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Yep. Twenty-three missed calls and eighteen texts between Gavin and Jilsey, and a text from a blocked number with a long string of profanities that I hoped was from one of the two. Jilsey, if I had to guess.
Ugh, I cringed internally a little, turning my ringer on before slipping my phone back into my pocket. She was going to be so mad. She even had my outfit picked out. As I locked the gold-rimmed glass double doors, I took my first clean breath in hours. The air was frigid and slightly wet, but I didn't care—it was fresh and didn't even remotely smell like musty old things that might have contained asbestos or the remains of dead people or animals.
I stifled the urge to skip home to change, better late than never, right? Even being so late, the city was alive with people. Girls chased each other down the street, and guys were hooting and hollering as they spilled out of the bars. Halfway down the street, my phone rang and I pulled it from my pocket. Gavin’s picture flashed back at me, accompanied by the Cops theme song. At least it was Gavin, he would be gentler in his chiding than Jils.
"Well, hello, handsome, what are you wearing?" I said, using my best flirty voice, hoping it would distract him from being upset with me.
"I'm wearing my boxers, the black silky ones you got me for my birthday. Jilsey is wearing her Don’t Be a Litterbug shirt and pink boy shorts. She has also decided that when you get here, you can wear that weird red thing," he said, just as flirty.
"What? Aren't you guys at Stickshift?" I asked, confused, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.
They had planned this New Year’s for weeks, months even, and several of Jils’ texts had been full of detailed threats on what would happen if I didn't hurry up and get there. I was pretty sure the Department of Homeland Security was now tracking her cell phone. She was s-c-a-r-y when she was angry.
"After about midnight when you still weren't there, we figured you were once again working late. And rather than you missing out on the party, we brought it to you. Including the bar. Hurry home, babe," he said, hanging up.
I rolled my eyes at him, but my annoyance quickly changed to a smile. They really were awesome. Jilsey was a nurse at University Hospital, and Gavin was a cop. We lucked into finding each other when Gavin and I responded to a roommate-wanted ad in the newspaper. We instantly clicked, despite the four-year age gap; Jilsey and Gavin were twenty-five. They were for roommates who didn’t party all the time and I was looking for…basically the same thing. Living on campus was getting old and living with my mother was not an option. Now we share a three-story Victorian manor in historical Saebo. Some great aunt willed it to Jilsey a few years back. It was fully furnished and her aunt had great taste.
Picking up my pace a little, I booked it home as fast as I could without falling flat on my ass. The sidewalk was slick from the snow that had melted earlier and was now refreezing in the frigid early morning air. With the wind chill, I was pretty sure the temperature was dropping into the teens.
After treading carefully on the stairs of our porch, I barely got my key in the lock before Jilsey jerked it open. She pulled me through the door, embracing me in a huge hug, enveloping me in the smell of vodka, beer, and cookies. Smells like home. Jilsey was taller than most girls, probably around five-foot-nine, and skinny as a rail. She kept her platinum hair in an edgy sling bob—it was apparently easier with work. Her brown eyes regarded me in disapproval as she tsked. She shut the door and pulled me toward our living room.
"Dammit, Lina, you really need to learn to say no!" she scolded. “Repeat after me: I will not stay late.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said, waving away her worry. It was hard for them to grasp just how much I loved my job—that most days, working late wasn’t an issue for me. Tonight had been a different story. It was one of the few times working had been a burden.
“You were at work for almost fourteen hours today. And you missed the ball drop. I almost had to kiss Gavin,” she said, shuddering delicately. “You know how grabby he gets when he drinks. Luckily, I was able to grab the bartender—you know, the cute little redhead with the nice rack—before Gavin could make his move on me."
Rounding the corner to the living room, I saw that they had gone all out. Our pillows and blankets were arranged on the floor. Bowls of popcorn and candy, a pizza, and a plate full of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies adorned the coffee table. Cherry Bomb supplies and a case of Bud Light sat on one of the end tables. There was a stack of movies next to our outrageously big TV. God, they knew me so well. I didn’t know what I would do without them. Probably just live at work. And starve, I was hopeless in the kitchen.
Gavin was lain out on the couch, his tousled blond hair highlighted with what looked like glitter and maybe Sharpie. True to his word, he wore only black boxers. Seeing me walk in, he stood and threw a silky red ball at me, nailing me straight in the face. It was only the top, the silky black bottoms missing.
"Get changed, I'll start the movie and make you a drink," he said, kissing me on the top of my head, which only came to his chest. It wasn’t just that I was short—I mean, yeah, I am pretty short—but Gavin was also freaky tall. His whole family—dad, both brothers, and even his mom—was tall.
“I can’t wear just
this,” I said, dropping my stuff on the floor by the door. “It’s too short. My ass is going to hang out.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Gavin said, his lips twisting into a Cheshire cat smile. I shot him a ‘really?’ look, and he conceded by tossing me the matching black shorts. “Fine, be like that. Now, hurry up and get your ass back out here.”
Obligingly, I headed to the bathroom and quickly changed into my favorite jammies, an impulse buy from one of my many mandatory-shopping dates with Jilsey. The top had spaghetti straps, was low cut, and had lace around the bust and hem. After putting my dirty clothes into the hamper, I splashed my face with some cool water. Looking into the mirror, I could even tell I looked tired. My blue eyes were heavy with the aftereffects of caffeine, and soft, bluish-purple arcs were making their way to the surface of my skin below my eyes. I looked like death warmed over. It wasn’t pretty.
“Girl, you are gross teeth away from looking like a meth head,” I muttered, and then shook my head at the fact that I was now talking to myself.
The chain around my neck glinted in the light, and I pulled it out of the neckline of my silky top. A dainty sterling silver ring with a red inlaid rose at its center hung from the chain. I found it in the park two years ago during Jilsey’s yoga phase. Gavin insisted that I turn it in because someone was likely looking for it. Screw that. It was so crusted over with mud, and God knows what else, that whoever lost it had probably long since given up on finding it. Plus, I couldn’t give it up. From the minute I saw it, as dirty as it was, it felt like mine.
I quickly ran a brush through my shoulder-length brown hair, untangling the cluster of knots caused by the wind. Once I was slightly less of a mess, I trotted back to the living room.
"There she is," Gavin announced, handing me a shot glass. I downed it in one gulp and he passed me another, along with a beer to chase them. "Feel better?" When I nodded, he patted my spot on the floor between him and Jils. "Since it’s late and Jils and I are sorta drunk—” Jilsey snorted a laugh “—we’ve decided to watch highlights from last year's Shark Week, ‘cause chances are one or all of us is going to pass out soon," he said, handing me a slice of pizza and watching until I took a bite.