I was so tempted to change my whole story because of course, it's obvious
who the prowler is. But that would mess up everything, so I'm remaining
sadly predictable. Enjoy!
**************************************************************************** ******
It was . . .
Er, Jesse De Silva?
What the hell? Why was he following me in the dark?
He straightened up, with a face of white-hot fire. 'Dios! What is wrong with you?!' he demanded in fury, holding his stomach where I'd kicked him.
Oh my God . . .
MAN, did I feel dumb. Oh, how embarrassing.
I shook my head, not believing what I'd just done. 'I am so sorry!' I apologized, appalled with myself. He took an angry step closer.
Gulp . . . I let out a tiny squeak.
Jeez, why did he have to be so freaking tall?
Hang on . . . I didn't have to apologize to HIM.
'Excuse me?!' I yelled, getting a grip on myself, 'What is wrong with YOU? Why are you following me in the dark? Why didn't you call out my name, so I didn't have a near heart attack?!'
He looked simply scandalized. 'I don't believe this! How was I supposed to know it was you? I mean, I though it was, but I wasn't certain. Any besides, what are YOU doing wandering around at night, Susannah?'
I glared at him, and tossed my hair haughtily. 'For your information, Enrique, I was going straight home from school!'
His eyebrows went sky-high. 'On a Saturday, querida?'
This was outrageous! 'What I was doing is none of your beeswax!' I shouted furiously. 'And - And - DON'T CALL ME STUFF IN SPANISH!'
'Hey!' yelled somebody from the house we were arguing in front of, 'Keep it down, would ya?'
I blushed, and went to walk away from Jesse, but he grabbed my arm. 'No, I'm not finished with you -'
'Well I'm done with you!' I said in a forceful whisper, yanking my arm away from him, but the guy was strong.
Like Paul . . .
Well, as far as I was concerned, they deserved each other.
I mean, who the hell did this guy think he was? James Bond? He couldn't just go around following girls, yell at them, and then go grabbing their arms and stuff to prevent them from escaping! It was just not on!
'Hey!' I said sharply - but quietly - to him, 'I'm not in the mood to be bossed around by some Spanish punk who doesn't even refer to me as Suze, so take a hike, dude!' Again, I tried retrieving my captured arm, but he wasn't letting go.
'Susannah,' he said intensely. Jeez, the moonlight was making his face look really scary and murderous . . . With the blue reflection in his hair, and the spherical sapphire glint in his eyes? Yeah, not too reassuring. 'Why didn't you meet me after school yesterday? There were things that needed to be said.'
I just looked at my arm expectantly, and finally, he removed his hand. 'Thanks,' I groused mordantly, and rubbed it. He folded his arms and fixed me with a black-eyed gaze, awaiting my explanation. If looks could kill, well, you wouldn't know any of this.
'I, uh, had, er, prior commitments.'
'Like?'
'Um . . . detention,' I answered feebly, hiding my face with my hand a little.
He snorted. 'I see . . . ' he grinned knowingly, opening his hand out. Okay, this officially wasn't fair. He was acting like he was some pompous prince of England or something.
My eyes slid down to his chest, and I realized he was wearing a tight fitting dark green polo shirt. My God . . . prince was the word. Why did the bad guy always have to be so, well, yummy?
Where is the justice in this world?
I realized that I was staring. And not at his face, exclusively. I snapped my eyes back to his inky black ones, and sighed.
Silence . . .
Er, this was awkward.
'Well then,' he said with a little sham cough, rescuing us both from eternal embarrassment, 'We can do it now if you like?'
Huh? Do it? What was IT?!
'Do it?' I said quickly, 'I hate doing it. I don't know what it you are referring to, but I can't do any its at the moment. I'm doing its elsewhere, so no its for me, nope, none -' I was cut off by he laughing.
I blinked. Huh? Oh yeah, I was babbling wasn't I? See? Nerves. Hate 'em.
'You think I'm funny, De Silva?' I asked coldly, with a pronounced bite in my tone.
He touched his face, and his laughter died down slowly. He looked at me with humour dancing in his eyes.
'I was merely suggesting that we can get together now, and I'll set it straight about what happened between me and P-' He broke off, and the hilarity vanished from his eyes immediately.
'Paul. And why you killed him,' I added spitefully. I mean, it was because of this chap that Paulie was currently haunting my bedroom. I didn't owe him all that much . . . but he did owe me an explanation.
'But . . . now?' I asked anxiously. Why now? Why couldn't he have been following me under the happy, smiling sun? We could have even grabbed a soda, for all I cared, but it was dark now, and all . . .
He looked infuriatingly unbothered. 'Why not? It's only eight after all, Susannah.'
'I - I - it's just, uh -' I stammered, avoiding his eye. I mean, I didn't feel all cozy about meeting up with Mr. Executioner, ya know? So, I was about to politely decline his invitation when I remembered . . .
. . . who I was.
*I'm Susannah Simon. I'm a Mediator. It is my job to lead spirits to their ultimate destination.*
And refusing to go with Jesse De Silva would have meant that I wasn't aiding Paul to pass on. I mean, totally forgetting that Paul had no intention on moving. He was just too stupid to see what was best for him. Yeah, Suze knows best.
It was my duty, my obligation to do all in my power to help a ghost pass on. I had to listen to Jesse De Silva's side of the story.
DAMN MEDIATION!!!
I sighed heavily. 'Whatever,' I shrugged. I didn't care. Stupid mediation was probably going to get me killed one day, so hey? Why not now?
He smiled. Oh, it was a great smile. He had very nice teeth and all. Just . . . well, I wasn't too fond of him at the moment. He was probably smiling in strain, trying to decide whether to drown me and throw me in a river or hang me and make it look like a suicide.
Oh joy.
'So,' he said, and turned around to go the opposite way that I'd been previously traveling, 'How did you meet Paul?'
I ran to catch up with him a little. 'I, uh, well -' What? I couldn't say he was living in my bedroom? That would have been to weird, because if Jesse knew Paul at all, he would have automatically assumed the worst, and would have labeled me as a skank. So what could I say? 'Er, he just came to me, like, uh, all ghosts do,' I said.
Lame, Suze. Really lame . . .
'And where is he now?' he asked.
'No idea.'
'Has he done anything to you?'
'What do you mean?'
'Has he done anything to you that you haven't liked?' he asked.
'Um . . . '
He stopped and looked at me sharply. 'Susannah, has he hurt you at all?'
I blinked at him. 'Uh . . .' Then I got annoyed. 'Hey stop trying to be a knight in shining armour, Español boy. I can take care of myself. And no, he hasn't been around much. All he did was explode a bottle of nail polish, and that's it. He hasn't laid a finger on me, and that's very clever of him, because I don't take well to, er, fingers being laid on me.'
I glanced savagely at him, and saw that he looked quite alarmed.
'Do you always talk that fast?' he checked, and then laughed. I tossed my hair at him, and he continued walking.
'Oh, shut up . . . ' I muttered, with a deadly glare.
'I'm not laughing at you,' he said.
'Oh, sure. "It's okay, Suze, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing TOWARD you,"' I exclaimed animatedly. 'Big diff.'
Again, he laughed, but this time I knew he wasn't mocking me. I smiled at him as we continued walking, but then wiped that smile firmly off my face.
This is business, Suze.
Yeah, but just why did business have to be so hot? And . . . sweet?
STOP IT!
I looked stubbornly ahead. What was he doing to me? I bet he was some all powerful mediator and was messing with my mind, making me believe that he was the good guy. He most certainly was not! Granted, neither was Paul, but still, Jesse had KILLED somebody. So Paul making the moves on me wasn't an issue. And if Jesse killed me, I'd die innocent. How depressing is that?!
Okay, Suze, just don't talk to him.
'Susannah?'
'Yeah?'
Oh, I suck.
'We're here,' he replied. I stopped, and looked around.
Oh my God . . .
Hello mumma!
Okay, I'm totally oblivious when it comes to cars. All I knew was that this car was smooth and nice, and shiny, and modern, and silver, and new, and VERY cool. And I could smell the leather interior from two meters away.
'Wow . . . ' I breathed accidentally.
He totally noticed. 'Yeah, she's great isn't she? She's a Cadilac. I just paid her off.'
I raised my eyebrows. 'She?'
'All machines are referred to as feminine,' he said, as if stating the obvious.
I shrugged. 'Yeah, but it's stupid. I mean, the car is an it. It, not she or even he. I mean, it hasn't got, er, sexuality, or genitals, or stuff, so it's an -'
'An it,' he finished, smirking broadly. 'Fair point.' But he still went on smirking.
I wasn't trying to be funny. Why was he smirking?
'Stop smirking,' I said.
'Okay,' he said, and opened my door for me.
'Still smirking,' I reminded him. What? He was freaking me out, okay?
He sighed in irritation. 'Just get in, Susannah.'
I narrowed my eyes at him. 'Where do you think you're taking me, screw boy?'
I know, I know, I was being a right little brat, but hey. If he was going to off me like Paul, I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
Hell NO!
Jesse rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Chicas,' he muttered to himself. Damn Spanish language . . . who invented it? Stupid idiots . . .
I sat in the passenger seat tetchily. He walked calmly around the back and slipped coolly into the driver's seat, and inserted the keys into the ignition. I looked ahead indifferently. Jeez, the things I do to get a ghost off my back.
Well in Paul's case, off me entirely.
But Jesse would never know that . . .
I looked sideways at Jesse as he pulled out of the parking spot near the sidewalk. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something about Jesse that made him radiate with mysterious . . . well, perfection and decency. He just seemed so friendly and so great. I really didn't want to trust him, but I found that I couldn't help it. He seemed to honest not to earn my trust -
*Things aren't always what they seem, Suze . . . *
Damn.
There was a tense silence. I was sitting alert in my seat, still catching fleeting peaks of his flawless side profile. He had the nicest nose I'd ever seen. For a guy that is. It wasn't hooked or bulbous or squashed or incredibly huge. Just nice. Paul had a lot to live up to. And Jesse's eyes . . . they were enchanting. The intensity of his irises was so beautiful. They were so, so dark . . .
He turned his head at me, and I squeaked and looked away in shock.
Could this get any more embarrassing?
'Anyway,' I said shortly, 'Thanks.'
'For what?'
'For . . . you know, with Heather yesterday.'
'For saving you?' he smiled, turning left.
'You didn't save me,' I snapped, 'You aided me in a moment of confusion. Yeah.'
'Basically? I saved you,' he said smugly.
'No, you didn't!' I said in aggravation. 'I would have been fine without you.'
'Oh,' he said dryly, 'Yes, I'm sure you would have.'
He was so maddening! Jesus! 'Look! I know how to do my job, so just stop pretending to be some Wonder Boy of Mediation, De Silva!'
I crossed my arms and sighed, glaring into space.
'Well, is your head okay?' he asked.
'What do you mean?' I said jerkily. 'Implying that I have brain damage, are we n-'
'It was bleeding, don't you remember?' he answered.
'Fine. I'm fine. Absolutely fine,' I snapped.
'One more fine and I won't believe you,' he said with smiling eyes.
Jerk.
I didn't bother to answer. He didn't deserve the privilege of my response.
Whoa, it was taking a while. I mean, it would have been a lot more comforting if there wasn't a vast expanse of trees outside. In the five minutes we'd been in the car, it was as if we'd left Carmel or something. I mean, Carmel ain't big, but we don't have long, dark country roads nearby that I know of. And being out here didn't exactly give me the warm fuzzies. I could just imagine him saying next, 'I'm taking you to a quiet place with no witnesses . . . '
Oh, happy day.
There was no sound, except for the smooth purring of the engine. I could hear the beating of my own heart louder than Jesse's breathing even. Out the front window, the lines on the road were snaking towards us, and disappearing beneath the car, and the trees on either side of the road leant in, trying to snatch at us and trap us forever in the forest.
Whoa, Suze. Paranoid much?
I shivered slightly, trying to keep my mind on my motivation . . .
*If you tough this out, Suze, you can personally kick Paul's sorry ass into the fiery pits of hell. Wouldn't that me nice? Yeah, it'd also be nice if the world was Cadbury, but we don't always get what we want . . . *
I see the glass as half full, I really do.
Not.
Let's just accept it. I'm a suicidal maniac.
Then, the screech of the brakes told me that we'd reached our destination.
'Sorry it took so long, Susannah,' he muttered, his Spanish accent dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a hopeful look - yeah, hopeful that he'd get kicked in the nuts.
Ass . . .
'Oh, that's fine. I was able to think of all the words that rhyme with "turd",' I smiled sweetly. 'Like bird . . . absurd . . . referred . . . Jesse . . . '
He twitched, as if his hands were just itching to go around my neck. The feeling was mutual.
Hey, so what if I couldn't help trusting him? I didn't have to LIKE it.
He got out of the car, but I stayed where I was. 'Be a gentleman, De Silva, open the door for me?' I said wryly.
He stopped, froze, and turned back around to face me, looking really annoyed. 'Of course, Lady,' he grumbled, and I beamed at him. Of course, I was kind of leaning on the armrest so when he cordially opened the door, I kind of, well, fell out of the car.
Onto the dirty ground.
Oh, how gracious of you, Suze!
Really, way smooth . . .
And if by the way Jesse totally cracked up was any indication, he thoroughly agreed that I needed social behaviour classes.
'Oh shut up,' I said acidly, standing up and brushing the dirt off my skirt. Ew, that was so going to stain . . .
When he didn't stop laughing, I got really annoyed. 'See? Getting back in the car? Driving home WITHOUT you?' I pointed out, sliding into the driver's seat and rattling the keys. His face blanched. 'Susannah, don't. This is important.'
'Sure, sure,' I said under my breath. I got out of the car and tipped my head to the side, holding out my hand pretending it was a microphone. You know? My reporter imitation. 'So, matador, you have a girl who knows your secret, alone in a bush. What are you going to do next? Decapitate her? Set feral ghosts on her? Because, you know, she could so deal with them, she is very capable -'
'Susannah, we are not out in the bush,' he corrected.
I broke off. 'Huh? We're not? Well, I see lots of bush in front of me and behind m -'
Wow . . .
As I turned around, I saw, about thirty meters away was the most beautiful house I'd ever seen! I mean, it wasn't quite a mansion or anything, but it was big enough! I gasped in amazement. There were four black pillars out the front that extended high up both storeys to the balcony, which curved out, and enhanced with black railing. There were many different layers on the roof, if you know what I mean, which was black. The doors and window frames were also black. Everything else was white.
It was stunning!
'Whoa,' I said blankly, 'Lifestyles of the rich and famous much?'
He smirked. 'Yeah, it's agreeable.'
'Agreeable? You haven't seen my joint, dude. My place is pissy in comparison to this,' I wheezed.
Why'd he have to be rich too? WHY?!?!
He shrugged. 'Well, I do have five sisters, you see.'
I whistled. 'Jeez, bet your family has a big Maybelline subscription then.'
He chuckled. 'I wouldn't know. I try not to get too involved with my sisters cosmetic products, ever since Cora and the twins held me down and gave me a make over.' He shuddered.
I laughed. Pretty hard, too. I mean, the mental pictures of Jesse De Silva i9n lippy, eyeliner and blush was just too much. And add a pair of fishnets, high heels and a mini dress to that picture, well, you have your basic DIY drag queen.
But that mental vision was just cruel. Jesse was NOT drag queen material. God no . . .
He shrugged, and my laughter faded pleasantly. 'Yes, that information wasn't necessary . . . '
Again, I burst into laughing. I think I was now getting anxious too. I mean, I was a while away from Carmel, and by the looks of things, his house was one of those country houses? You know the ones, with the big paddocks out back and stuff?
Nobody would know where to look . . . Hey, maybe that neighbour that we pissed off earlier with our shouting would report Jesse. Maybe not . . .
However you look at it, I was screwed. Unless, of course, Jesse wasn't a bad guy. But that was about as likely as Paul coming up to me, saying "Suze, I am very sorry for groping and sexually harassing you in the weeks we've known each other. I have found out that I am homosexual. Here Suze, meet Fred."
Oh, brother . . .
'Well,' I said, 'I'd really love to stay standing here - stationary - all night, but I really have to get h -' I began, going for the car again, but there he went with the grabby arm thing, and pulled me away from it.
'Hey!' I shouted. 'Look, you haven't been at the Mission Academy for as long as I have - granted, that's only been three weeks - but I have a reputation for being one you don't mess with physically. So you might want to LAY OFF.'
With that, I totally kicked his feet out from beneath him, so he fell to the ground so his jeans hopefully suffered the same fate as mine. I placed my Nike confined foot on his chest, and glared down at him. 'Ha ha . . . '
He looked up at me, bewildered. 'Susannah, you have this illogical idea about me. You think I'm trying to harm you? I'm trying to protect you; that's why you need to know the truth about what happened with Paul Slater. If you don't know what he's capable of, then you are in danger.'
I stared at him, at his eyes. They seemed so sincere. I stepped off of him, and moved away from him.
'Well,' I said, now officially mistrustful, 'Tell me what you have to, and take me home. Or I'll walk home if you're worried about the petrol.'
He got up, and brushed himself off. 'Well, now me and the earth have had time to bond,' he said evenly.
I gave him a wobbly smile. 'I'm sorry . . . ' I said ruefully. 'It's just . . . taking someone's life, well, that's a big thing. Dealing with ghosts is different, they are already dead, and have suffered the ultimate pain, and are usually trying to hurt other people and stuff, so it's easy to come down hard on them. I just . . . I just couldn't imagine, well, killing someone.'
He stuck his hands in his pockets. 'Well, you know how to rub it in, Susannah.'
I blushed. 'Sorry . . . I'm not known for tact.'
'Clearly,' he remarked, looking guiltier by the second. I bet this was all an act. Ha, well, Suze Simon isn't going to be tricked into believing some cock and bull story about accidental murders and stuff. Nope.
'Follow me,' he said quietly.
'Um - I really don't -'
'Susannah,' he said, and came to stand right in front of me. I stared at the ground resolutely. Then . . . I felt his hand slide into mine. Oh, the effect his gentle hand had on me was magical . . . My senses melted when he touched me. I let out a small sigh, swallowed, and my startled eyes flickered up to his. And I knew. Deep down inside, I wasn't scared at all.
'You can trust me,' he whispered into my hair, and squeezed my hand a little. His eyes twinkled under the marble-like moon that glowed down on us secretively. 'Now follow me . . . '
I nodded. The wind was beginning to blow, murmuring through the trees and making them dance in a rhythmic spell. He pulled me by my hand into the trees, until we came to a building, which looked like a stable. Well, I hoped that all that neighing I was hearing was horses, you know? He released my hand. 'Stay here,' he said softly.
Again, I nodded as he went inside. I was getting really cold now. I tried to shield my arms from the growing bitterness, but hey? I have small hands. I just felt so sleepy . . .
Then, about two minutes later, he emerged -
- With a tall, strong horse the shade of deepest midnight, wearing but a rein. I gasped.
'Oh, Jesse, he's beautiful,' I said. 'Er, he is a guy and all, right?'
He smiled warmly, sending all my shivers into oblivion, and ran his hand across its back. 'Yes, a stallion. His name is Zephyr.'
'Zephyr,' I repeated in approval, 'Doesn't that mean "gentle wind" or something?'
He nodded. 'That's right . . . querida . . . '
And you know what? When he said it that time, I didn't mind so much . . .
'Mount him,' he instructed me, cupping his hands against Zephyr's stomach, supposedly for me to stand on them.
I stuttered something really stupid that not even I could understand, and decided to just shut up and obey. I really hoped that my gut instinct wasn't wrong about Jesse De Silva being as decent as he seemed. So, I gently held onto Zephyr's mane, and pulled myself up with Jesse's help.
Whoa . . . sitting on Zephyr's back made me feel so, well, powerful, as if I could do anything.
Then, a second later, Jesse joined me. He mounted Zephyr with such ease I recognized years of experience. I could feel Jesse's chest mould against my back, and his arms went around my shoulders as he grabbed the reins. But he stopped and put his hand on my arm.
'Susannah, you are cold,' he said.
I shrugged. 'Oh, you know, wasn't really anticipating being picked up by Jesse De Silva and going horse riding on a cold, windy night,' I said inelegantly. 'This kind of thing only happens - whoa!'
Yeah, that was kind of when he kicked Zephyr's stomach gently and pulled the reins, spurring him on. I stopped talking, and just leant into Jesse. He seemed to know what he was doing.
Jeez, Zephyr was fast. Like the wind - oh . . . zephyr, of course, duh. But yeah, he rode swiftly through the trees and then into a clearing, where Jesse stopped him. I looked up and saw that the sky was speckled with thousands of twinkling, silver stars again, but tonight, they seemed so, so much prettier than when I had been with Paul. I realized how close Jesse and I were, and even though I felt scared, it felt too right to back away now.
'Susannah, now I'll tell you about Paul,' he breathed in my ear.
'Okay, shoot,' I replied softly.
He tugged the Zephyr's reins lightly and the majestic horse began to travel at a slow, relaxed walk. I soaked up the tranquillity of the night in a single, long and shuddering breath.
He launched into his story - the truth . . .
'Paul Slater and I grew up together. Our grandfathers were old friends. Paul's grandfather was a shifter, and mine, well, I don't know what mine was. He wasn't normal though. Paul and I were both shifters, and we matured through life, learning about our incredible powers, on top of the amazing gift to speak to the dead. I always had big idea that I would help people when I was young, ever since I helped a young girl called Alice when I was ten. She was only eight, and her mother had recently been killed in a car crash. Alice wasn't getting over it very well at all. Her family had been acquaintances of mine, and we were there for her family in their grief. No one suffered more than Alice, though. Her health was failing, and people thought she'd die of depression. So when Alice's mother came to me as a ghost, and asked me to tell her something important that would help her pass on, I said yes. She told me to tell Alice that she loved her with all her heart, and to never forget her, but to let go, and she said that she forgave her for knocking over the vase. I didn't know what it meant at the time, I just wanted to help. When I delivered this message to Alice, she broke down totally. I told her about the vase thing, and after spending an hour with her, Alice was fully convinced that I was telling the truth and that I wasn't teasing her. When she finally accepted it, oh, the look of her face was the most rewarding experience of her life. It urged me to continue helping people.' He paused.
I didn't want to be rude, but I couldn't see where this was going. But yeah, he continued.
'After that, I did everything I could to help ghosts move on. Some only sought to cause me trouble, and I had to deal with them more brusquely, but I always was able to aid them. Paul, of course, was with me through all of this. He helped me fight of ghosts when they attacked me, and advised me what to do for ghosts that he considered as "petty." He only liked the violent ghosts. He said they were fun. We had good times together, but after a while, his loyalty to me started to slip.'
Ah, I was wondering when he was going to pop back in this . . .
'My grandfather was killed when I was twelve. Mysterious circumstances, the police said. No one ever found out why. Paul started spending more and more time with his grandfather and less with me. And then, about a year ago, Paul completely got lost in the dark side of him. I noticed this when I was working on a group of young, innocent girls who had recently died in a freak accident at their school. I had finally discovered what was keeping them back, and had called to tell Paul about my breakthrough, and he laughed at me on the phone. He told me that I didn't need to worry about them any more. I asked him why. He said that they had come to talk to him, and . . . he'd exorcised them.'
I gasped. 'No.'
'Yes,' Jesse replied grimly. 'I asked him if he was out of his mind. And he said no. That he was just bored. Bored! I was furious with him. I told him to come to my house, so, well, I could ask him why he'd done such a thing. He came, looking careless as ever. It made me so mad, I didn't know what to do. He had been my friend since childhood, but he was ruining everything I believed in. In helping lost spirits, because no one deserves to live in limbo. But he told me there that he'd done more than just exorcise those girls. He'd tortured them first. He described to me exactly what he'd done to them, and how powerful he'd felt. He told me I could experience this power too, if I listened to him for once. He tried to persuade me to use my shifter powers for evil. He said he'd developed his well, and that we could seek greater things. I told him that he was sick, and I never wanted to see him again. And he left. After over fifteen years of knowing each other, he left. I didn't see him again, until a little over six months ago . . .'
I held my breath. This was the part I needed to hear. The part I wanted to know for myself.
Jesse stroked Zephyr's neck, but stopped very quickly, resuming . . .
'Paul showed up in my room on night. Materialized, is the word. I was shocked to see him. I hadn't seen him for a year. His family had moved, and now he had shown up. He looked terrible. He was pale and he looked very . . . desperate.' Jesse sighed. 'Well, I told him to go away, and that his absence had been the best thing for the both of us. He told me to shut up, and he explained that he needed my help. He messed around with the wrong ghost. This ghost, Paul said, was in fact a demon, and had demanded that Paul give him mortal souls or he'd kill him. So, Paul sent all the ghosts to him, and the demon was satisfied for a while. But then the ghosts realized that they weren't being mediated when they went to him, so they stopped going. Eventually, none came, and the demon needed a life, not just ghosts. He went to take Paul's, but Paul ran, saying he'd get a better one. So he came to me. At first, it was only to ask for help. I turned him away, telling him that he deserved everything he got after tormenting innocent ghosts. Paul got angry with me, and tried to take me to this demon. We struggled, and he realized that he couldn't win against me. We'd both trained in fighting, and neither of us was better than the other. So, the fool ran through my house, and grabbed my youngest sister, Adrianna. I couldn't believe that he would do something so cruel as to offer my baby sister to a demon. As he went to dematerialize with her, I jumped at him. His destination was altered, and we all ended up in a vacant house. They say that it used to be a boarding house back in the eighteen hundreds . . . '
Oh my God! He was talking about my house!
'Paul said that I'd had my chance to see reason, and that it was nice knowing me. And then he drew a gun from his jacket, and shot a couple of bullets at me. But in our training, we'd learnt to dodge things like that. I was able to do so then. Adrianna was screaming. Paul was laughing, saying that I was an idiot for not listening to him. He said I'd join the category I loved to help so much. But he said that would happen after he killed Adrianna.'
My mouth fell open. Oh my God . . .
'He aimed the gun at her head, and she was crying so hard. I was terrified, not for my life, but for hers . . . '
Jesse broke off, looking deeply disturbed by then. But a look of determination swept across his face. 'But as he was developing his powers for evil, I was still increasing my shifting powers. I am very skilled at controlling objects with my mind. All my practice paid off when I focused all my fury and fear onto that gun, rotated it, and shot Paul. In the head, I think. He died quickly. I got Adrianna out of there as quick as I could, and back to our house. You see, Susannah, where I come from, family is the most important thing there is. My sisters, all five of them, mean the world to me. Paul threatened my world, and he was punished for it. I don't know what happened to the demon, but he never came to me. I haven't seen Paul since any of this happened,' he concluded, staring far into the night sky.
I blinked. My God . . . Jesse had been defending his sister when he'd killed Paul. So Paul was the cold-blooded killer!
'You love your sisters that much?' I choked. There was a weird lump in my throat. Not to mention, my eyes were wet. See what the night air does to me? See . . . Oh, all right, I was touched. And so what? It was very a poignant story. So yeah yeah, I was crying. I'm allowed to cry when I see such a pure quality like that in someone.
'Yes,' he replied, looking at me levelly.
I shook my head at him. 'That's so . . . beautiful, Jesse.'
I was totally taking a different point of view on this whole murderer thing, wasn't I?
'Thank you,' he replied. And that's when his hand slipped over mine again. My heart stopped, and I turned around promptly. His fingers interlocked with mine, and he said to me, 'You're beautiful, querida . . . '
I felt him kiss my neck ever so gently. It made my body respond in such a way I never thought possible. Very intense chemical reactions were occurring in my chest at the moment, so wonderful they almost hurt.
'Jesse,' I gasped, 'I can't do this -'
But with his hand, he fully turned my chin so I was facing him. His eyes were filled with something I'd never seen in them before. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and my neck was beginning to ache from being turned. I was breathing very fast now. What was he doing? What was I doing? Why did this seem so wrong, yet so, so right at the same time?
. . . And he kissed me . . .
I couldn't believe it. It didn't seem real. So unreal that it was a dream. No, not a dream! Paradise . . . This moment was ecstasy, eternal bliss, cloud nine. It felt as if Jesse was the only one I was ever meant to kiss. I'd drifted into heaven. He felt so perfect on my lips, and tasted so sweet. I pulled away, and smiled softly. He was breathing hard too, embracing me almost as tightly as I was holding onto him.
'On second thought,' I said playfully, smiling mischievously, 'I think I can do this.' And we connected again. Rampant passion fueled this kiss to its ultimate level. I'd never ever felt this way before. The way Paul had tried to kiss me was a muddy sand castle compared to this Empire State Building.
Hang on . . . Paul who?
So me, Susannah Simon, and Jesse De Silva, were sitting on a beautiful black stallion, playing tonsil hockey.
And we were both winning . . .
I didn't want to admit it, but I knew. Oh, how I knew. I wasn't a big believer at love at first sight. Because this had taken a couple of looks.
But we were there. We had found each other. We were - well, at least I was and I certainly hoped he was, because then I would have felt really dumb - in love.
I mean, if that kiss meant what I think it meant.
And I had a really good feeling it did.
After another thirty seconds of the best thing that I'd ever experienced in my whole sixteen years, I stopped. I placed my finger on his lips, and smiled, looking up at the mystical sky.
'Jesse, you'd better take me home now, it's getting late,' I said with such deep happiness, words cannot express.
He smiled back at me, his dark eyes only half open. He looked very wistful and faraway. 'Fair enough. I mean, I have plenty of petrol, I don't think walking will be necessary.' He touched my cheek gently, and swept my hair behind my ear. Then he tugged the reins, and we rode back to his car.
I felt so dazed. That had happened so fast, I was scared that I'd only imagined it. Oh if I had, someone was going to pay . . .
Jesse took Zephyr back into the stable, and then he and I hopped in the car. I told him my street, and he began to drive. We didn't say a word, but our silence said everything. When we got to a street one away from mine, I suddenly said, 'Er, stop here, Jesse. I don't want mum to see me come home in a guy's Cadilac just yet.' It was for another reason too, of course; Paul. Jesse didn't know that I was living with him, and I didn't want him to. And Paul would blow a fuse if he found about me and Jesse meeting . . . and making out. But yeah.
Jesse stopped the car. 'I understand,' he said. 'Goodnight, querida.' And of course, he leant over and gave me a very welcome good night kiss.
'One thing,' he said, and sat back. It was good he'd stopped . . . any more, and I would have been tempted to lose the halter-neck and all. 'Uh, try not to tell anyone the truth about Paul. No body knows that I did that to him, and I know that I should take responsibility for my actions, but I don't want to be punished for a moment where I believed my family came before my desire to keep a, er, clean police record,' he said heavily.
'Don't worry,' I said seriously, and sighed.
'Wild horses couldn't drag it from me . . .'
**************************************************************************** *****
Your reading is appreciated. Please feel free to flame or flatter. Just review!!
**************************************************************************** ******
It was . . .
Er, Jesse De Silva?
What the hell? Why was he following me in the dark?
He straightened up, with a face of white-hot fire. 'Dios! What is wrong with you?!' he demanded in fury, holding his stomach where I'd kicked him.
Oh my God . . .
MAN, did I feel dumb. Oh, how embarrassing.
I shook my head, not believing what I'd just done. 'I am so sorry!' I apologized, appalled with myself. He took an angry step closer.
Gulp . . . I let out a tiny squeak.
Jeez, why did he have to be so freaking tall?
Hang on . . . I didn't have to apologize to HIM.
'Excuse me?!' I yelled, getting a grip on myself, 'What is wrong with YOU? Why are you following me in the dark? Why didn't you call out my name, so I didn't have a near heart attack?!'
He looked simply scandalized. 'I don't believe this! How was I supposed to know it was you? I mean, I though it was, but I wasn't certain. Any besides, what are YOU doing wandering around at night, Susannah?'
I glared at him, and tossed my hair haughtily. 'For your information, Enrique, I was going straight home from school!'
His eyebrows went sky-high. 'On a Saturday, querida?'
This was outrageous! 'What I was doing is none of your beeswax!' I shouted furiously. 'And - And - DON'T CALL ME STUFF IN SPANISH!'
'Hey!' yelled somebody from the house we were arguing in front of, 'Keep it down, would ya?'
I blushed, and went to walk away from Jesse, but he grabbed my arm. 'No, I'm not finished with you -'
'Well I'm done with you!' I said in a forceful whisper, yanking my arm away from him, but the guy was strong.
Like Paul . . .
Well, as far as I was concerned, they deserved each other.
I mean, who the hell did this guy think he was? James Bond? He couldn't just go around following girls, yell at them, and then go grabbing their arms and stuff to prevent them from escaping! It was just not on!
'Hey!' I said sharply - but quietly - to him, 'I'm not in the mood to be bossed around by some Spanish punk who doesn't even refer to me as Suze, so take a hike, dude!' Again, I tried retrieving my captured arm, but he wasn't letting go.
'Susannah,' he said intensely. Jeez, the moonlight was making his face look really scary and murderous . . . With the blue reflection in his hair, and the spherical sapphire glint in his eyes? Yeah, not too reassuring. 'Why didn't you meet me after school yesterday? There were things that needed to be said.'
I just looked at my arm expectantly, and finally, he removed his hand. 'Thanks,' I groused mordantly, and rubbed it. He folded his arms and fixed me with a black-eyed gaze, awaiting my explanation. If looks could kill, well, you wouldn't know any of this.
'I, uh, had, er, prior commitments.'
'Like?'
'Um . . . detention,' I answered feebly, hiding my face with my hand a little.
He snorted. 'I see . . . ' he grinned knowingly, opening his hand out. Okay, this officially wasn't fair. He was acting like he was some pompous prince of England or something.
My eyes slid down to his chest, and I realized he was wearing a tight fitting dark green polo shirt. My God . . . prince was the word. Why did the bad guy always have to be so, well, yummy?
Where is the justice in this world?
I realized that I was staring. And not at his face, exclusively. I snapped my eyes back to his inky black ones, and sighed.
Silence . . .
Er, this was awkward.
'Well then,' he said with a little sham cough, rescuing us both from eternal embarrassment, 'We can do it now if you like?'
Huh? Do it? What was IT?!
'Do it?' I said quickly, 'I hate doing it. I don't know what it you are referring to, but I can't do any its at the moment. I'm doing its elsewhere, so no its for me, nope, none -' I was cut off by he laughing.
I blinked. Huh? Oh yeah, I was babbling wasn't I? See? Nerves. Hate 'em.
'You think I'm funny, De Silva?' I asked coldly, with a pronounced bite in my tone.
He touched his face, and his laughter died down slowly. He looked at me with humour dancing in his eyes.
'I was merely suggesting that we can get together now, and I'll set it straight about what happened between me and P-' He broke off, and the hilarity vanished from his eyes immediately.
'Paul. And why you killed him,' I added spitefully. I mean, it was because of this chap that Paulie was currently haunting my bedroom. I didn't owe him all that much . . . but he did owe me an explanation.
'But . . . now?' I asked anxiously. Why now? Why couldn't he have been following me under the happy, smiling sun? We could have even grabbed a soda, for all I cared, but it was dark now, and all . . .
He looked infuriatingly unbothered. 'Why not? It's only eight after all, Susannah.'
'I - I - it's just, uh -' I stammered, avoiding his eye. I mean, I didn't feel all cozy about meeting up with Mr. Executioner, ya know? So, I was about to politely decline his invitation when I remembered . . .
. . . who I was.
*I'm Susannah Simon. I'm a Mediator. It is my job to lead spirits to their ultimate destination.*
And refusing to go with Jesse De Silva would have meant that I wasn't aiding Paul to pass on. I mean, totally forgetting that Paul had no intention on moving. He was just too stupid to see what was best for him. Yeah, Suze knows best.
It was my duty, my obligation to do all in my power to help a ghost pass on. I had to listen to Jesse De Silva's side of the story.
DAMN MEDIATION!!!
I sighed heavily. 'Whatever,' I shrugged. I didn't care. Stupid mediation was probably going to get me killed one day, so hey? Why not now?
He smiled. Oh, it was a great smile. He had very nice teeth and all. Just . . . well, I wasn't too fond of him at the moment. He was probably smiling in strain, trying to decide whether to drown me and throw me in a river or hang me and make it look like a suicide.
Oh joy.
'So,' he said, and turned around to go the opposite way that I'd been previously traveling, 'How did you meet Paul?'
I ran to catch up with him a little. 'I, uh, well -' What? I couldn't say he was living in my bedroom? That would have been to weird, because if Jesse knew Paul at all, he would have automatically assumed the worst, and would have labeled me as a skank. So what could I say? 'Er, he just came to me, like, uh, all ghosts do,' I said.
Lame, Suze. Really lame . . .
'And where is he now?' he asked.
'No idea.'
'Has he done anything to you?'
'What do you mean?'
'Has he done anything to you that you haven't liked?' he asked.
'Um . . . '
He stopped and looked at me sharply. 'Susannah, has he hurt you at all?'
I blinked at him. 'Uh . . .' Then I got annoyed. 'Hey stop trying to be a knight in shining armour, Español boy. I can take care of myself. And no, he hasn't been around much. All he did was explode a bottle of nail polish, and that's it. He hasn't laid a finger on me, and that's very clever of him, because I don't take well to, er, fingers being laid on me.'
I glanced savagely at him, and saw that he looked quite alarmed.
'Do you always talk that fast?' he checked, and then laughed. I tossed my hair at him, and he continued walking.
'Oh, shut up . . . ' I muttered, with a deadly glare.
'I'm not laughing at you,' he said.
'Oh, sure. "It's okay, Suze, I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing TOWARD you,"' I exclaimed animatedly. 'Big diff.'
Again, he laughed, but this time I knew he wasn't mocking me. I smiled at him as we continued walking, but then wiped that smile firmly off my face.
This is business, Suze.
Yeah, but just why did business have to be so hot? And . . . sweet?
STOP IT!
I looked stubbornly ahead. What was he doing to me? I bet he was some all powerful mediator and was messing with my mind, making me believe that he was the good guy. He most certainly was not! Granted, neither was Paul, but still, Jesse had KILLED somebody. So Paul making the moves on me wasn't an issue. And if Jesse killed me, I'd die innocent. How depressing is that?!
Okay, Suze, just don't talk to him.
'Susannah?'
'Yeah?'
Oh, I suck.
'We're here,' he replied. I stopped, and looked around.
Oh my God . . .
Hello mumma!
Okay, I'm totally oblivious when it comes to cars. All I knew was that this car was smooth and nice, and shiny, and modern, and silver, and new, and VERY cool. And I could smell the leather interior from two meters away.
'Wow . . . ' I breathed accidentally.
He totally noticed. 'Yeah, she's great isn't she? She's a Cadilac. I just paid her off.'
I raised my eyebrows. 'She?'
'All machines are referred to as feminine,' he said, as if stating the obvious.
I shrugged. 'Yeah, but it's stupid. I mean, the car is an it. It, not she or even he. I mean, it hasn't got, er, sexuality, or genitals, or stuff, so it's an -'
'An it,' he finished, smirking broadly. 'Fair point.' But he still went on smirking.
I wasn't trying to be funny. Why was he smirking?
'Stop smirking,' I said.
'Okay,' he said, and opened my door for me.
'Still smirking,' I reminded him. What? He was freaking me out, okay?
He sighed in irritation. 'Just get in, Susannah.'
I narrowed my eyes at him. 'Where do you think you're taking me, screw boy?'
I know, I know, I was being a right little brat, but hey. If he was going to off me like Paul, I wasn't going to make it easy for him.
Hell NO!
Jesse rolled his eyes dramatically. 'Chicas,' he muttered to himself. Damn Spanish language . . . who invented it? Stupid idiots . . .
I sat in the passenger seat tetchily. He walked calmly around the back and slipped coolly into the driver's seat, and inserted the keys into the ignition. I looked ahead indifferently. Jeez, the things I do to get a ghost off my back.
Well in Paul's case, off me entirely.
But Jesse would never know that . . .
I looked sideways at Jesse as he pulled out of the parking spot near the sidewalk. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something about Jesse that made him radiate with mysterious . . . well, perfection and decency. He just seemed so friendly and so great. I really didn't want to trust him, but I found that I couldn't help it. He seemed to honest not to earn my trust -
*Things aren't always what they seem, Suze . . . *
Damn.
There was a tense silence. I was sitting alert in my seat, still catching fleeting peaks of his flawless side profile. He had the nicest nose I'd ever seen. For a guy that is. It wasn't hooked or bulbous or squashed or incredibly huge. Just nice. Paul had a lot to live up to. And Jesse's eyes . . . they were enchanting. The intensity of his irises was so beautiful. They were so, so dark . . .
He turned his head at me, and I squeaked and looked away in shock.
Could this get any more embarrassing?
'Anyway,' I said shortly, 'Thanks.'
'For what?'
'For . . . you know, with Heather yesterday.'
'For saving you?' he smiled, turning left.
'You didn't save me,' I snapped, 'You aided me in a moment of confusion. Yeah.'
'Basically? I saved you,' he said smugly.
'No, you didn't!' I said in aggravation. 'I would have been fine without you.'
'Oh,' he said dryly, 'Yes, I'm sure you would have.'
He was so maddening! Jesus! 'Look! I know how to do my job, so just stop pretending to be some Wonder Boy of Mediation, De Silva!'
I crossed my arms and sighed, glaring into space.
'Well, is your head okay?' he asked.
'What do you mean?' I said jerkily. 'Implying that I have brain damage, are we n-'
'It was bleeding, don't you remember?' he answered.
'Fine. I'm fine. Absolutely fine,' I snapped.
'One more fine and I won't believe you,' he said with smiling eyes.
Jerk.
I didn't bother to answer. He didn't deserve the privilege of my response.
Whoa, it was taking a while. I mean, it would have been a lot more comforting if there wasn't a vast expanse of trees outside. In the five minutes we'd been in the car, it was as if we'd left Carmel or something. I mean, Carmel ain't big, but we don't have long, dark country roads nearby that I know of. And being out here didn't exactly give me the warm fuzzies. I could just imagine him saying next, 'I'm taking you to a quiet place with no witnesses . . . '
Oh, happy day.
There was no sound, except for the smooth purring of the engine. I could hear the beating of my own heart louder than Jesse's breathing even. Out the front window, the lines on the road were snaking towards us, and disappearing beneath the car, and the trees on either side of the road leant in, trying to snatch at us and trap us forever in the forest.
Whoa, Suze. Paranoid much?
I shivered slightly, trying to keep my mind on my motivation . . .
*If you tough this out, Suze, you can personally kick Paul's sorry ass into the fiery pits of hell. Wouldn't that me nice? Yeah, it'd also be nice if the world was Cadbury, but we don't always get what we want . . . *
I see the glass as half full, I really do.
Not.
Let's just accept it. I'm a suicidal maniac.
Then, the screech of the brakes told me that we'd reached our destination.
'Sorry it took so long, Susannah,' he muttered, his Spanish accent dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a hopeful look - yeah, hopeful that he'd get kicked in the nuts.
Ass . . .
'Oh, that's fine. I was able to think of all the words that rhyme with "turd",' I smiled sweetly. 'Like bird . . . absurd . . . referred . . . Jesse . . . '
He twitched, as if his hands were just itching to go around my neck. The feeling was mutual.
Hey, so what if I couldn't help trusting him? I didn't have to LIKE it.
He got out of the car, but I stayed where I was. 'Be a gentleman, De Silva, open the door for me?' I said wryly.
He stopped, froze, and turned back around to face me, looking really annoyed. 'Of course, Lady,' he grumbled, and I beamed at him. Of course, I was kind of leaning on the armrest so when he cordially opened the door, I kind of, well, fell out of the car.
Onto the dirty ground.
Oh, how gracious of you, Suze!
Really, way smooth . . .
And if by the way Jesse totally cracked up was any indication, he thoroughly agreed that I needed social behaviour classes.
'Oh shut up,' I said acidly, standing up and brushing the dirt off my skirt. Ew, that was so going to stain . . .
When he didn't stop laughing, I got really annoyed. 'See? Getting back in the car? Driving home WITHOUT you?' I pointed out, sliding into the driver's seat and rattling the keys. His face blanched. 'Susannah, don't. This is important.'
'Sure, sure,' I said under my breath. I got out of the car and tipped my head to the side, holding out my hand pretending it was a microphone. You know? My reporter imitation. 'So, matador, you have a girl who knows your secret, alone in a bush. What are you going to do next? Decapitate her? Set feral ghosts on her? Because, you know, she could so deal with them, she is very capable -'
'Susannah, we are not out in the bush,' he corrected.
I broke off. 'Huh? We're not? Well, I see lots of bush in front of me and behind m -'
Wow . . .
As I turned around, I saw, about thirty meters away was the most beautiful house I'd ever seen! I mean, it wasn't quite a mansion or anything, but it was big enough! I gasped in amazement. There were four black pillars out the front that extended high up both storeys to the balcony, which curved out, and enhanced with black railing. There were many different layers on the roof, if you know what I mean, which was black. The doors and window frames were also black. Everything else was white.
It was stunning!
'Whoa,' I said blankly, 'Lifestyles of the rich and famous much?'
He smirked. 'Yeah, it's agreeable.'
'Agreeable? You haven't seen my joint, dude. My place is pissy in comparison to this,' I wheezed.
Why'd he have to be rich too? WHY?!?!
He shrugged. 'Well, I do have five sisters, you see.'
I whistled. 'Jeez, bet your family has a big Maybelline subscription then.'
He chuckled. 'I wouldn't know. I try not to get too involved with my sisters cosmetic products, ever since Cora and the twins held me down and gave me a make over.' He shuddered.
I laughed. Pretty hard, too. I mean, the mental pictures of Jesse De Silva i9n lippy, eyeliner and blush was just too much. And add a pair of fishnets, high heels and a mini dress to that picture, well, you have your basic DIY drag queen.
But that mental vision was just cruel. Jesse was NOT drag queen material. God no . . .
He shrugged, and my laughter faded pleasantly. 'Yes, that information wasn't necessary . . . '
Again, I burst into laughing. I think I was now getting anxious too. I mean, I was a while away from Carmel, and by the looks of things, his house was one of those country houses? You know the ones, with the big paddocks out back and stuff?
Nobody would know where to look . . . Hey, maybe that neighbour that we pissed off earlier with our shouting would report Jesse. Maybe not . . .
However you look at it, I was screwed. Unless, of course, Jesse wasn't a bad guy. But that was about as likely as Paul coming up to me, saying "Suze, I am very sorry for groping and sexually harassing you in the weeks we've known each other. I have found out that I am homosexual. Here Suze, meet Fred."
Oh, brother . . .
'Well,' I said, 'I'd really love to stay standing here - stationary - all night, but I really have to get h -' I began, going for the car again, but there he went with the grabby arm thing, and pulled me away from it.
'Hey!' I shouted. 'Look, you haven't been at the Mission Academy for as long as I have - granted, that's only been three weeks - but I have a reputation for being one you don't mess with physically. So you might want to LAY OFF.'
With that, I totally kicked his feet out from beneath him, so he fell to the ground so his jeans hopefully suffered the same fate as mine. I placed my Nike confined foot on his chest, and glared down at him. 'Ha ha . . . '
He looked up at me, bewildered. 'Susannah, you have this illogical idea about me. You think I'm trying to harm you? I'm trying to protect you; that's why you need to know the truth about what happened with Paul Slater. If you don't know what he's capable of, then you are in danger.'
I stared at him, at his eyes. They seemed so sincere. I stepped off of him, and moved away from him.
'Well,' I said, now officially mistrustful, 'Tell me what you have to, and take me home. Or I'll walk home if you're worried about the petrol.'
He got up, and brushed himself off. 'Well, now me and the earth have had time to bond,' he said evenly.
I gave him a wobbly smile. 'I'm sorry . . . ' I said ruefully. 'It's just . . . taking someone's life, well, that's a big thing. Dealing with ghosts is different, they are already dead, and have suffered the ultimate pain, and are usually trying to hurt other people and stuff, so it's easy to come down hard on them. I just . . . I just couldn't imagine, well, killing someone.'
He stuck his hands in his pockets. 'Well, you know how to rub it in, Susannah.'
I blushed. 'Sorry . . . I'm not known for tact.'
'Clearly,' he remarked, looking guiltier by the second. I bet this was all an act. Ha, well, Suze Simon isn't going to be tricked into believing some cock and bull story about accidental murders and stuff. Nope.
'Follow me,' he said quietly.
'Um - I really don't -'
'Susannah,' he said, and came to stand right in front of me. I stared at the ground resolutely. Then . . . I felt his hand slide into mine. Oh, the effect his gentle hand had on me was magical . . . My senses melted when he touched me. I let out a small sigh, swallowed, and my startled eyes flickered up to his. And I knew. Deep down inside, I wasn't scared at all.
'You can trust me,' he whispered into my hair, and squeezed my hand a little. His eyes twinkled under the marble-like moon that glowed down on us secretively. 'Now follow me . . . '
I nodded. The wind was beginning to blow, murmuring through the trees and making them dance in a rhythmic spell. He pulled me by my hand into the trees, until we came to a building, which looked like a stable. Well, I hoped that all that neighing I was hearing was horses, you know? He released my hand. 'Stay here,' he said softly.
Again, I nodded as he went inside. I was getting really cold now. I tried to shield my arms from the growing bitterness, but hey? I have small hands. I just felt so sleepy . . .
Then, about two minutes later, he emerged -
- With a tall, strong horse the shade of deepest midnight, wearing but a rein. I gasped.
'Oh, Jesse, he's beautiful,' I said. 'Er, he is a guy and all, right?'
He smiled warmly, sending all my shivers into oblivion, and ran his hand across its back. 'Yes, a stallion. His name is Zephyr.'
'Zephyr,' I repeated in approval, 'Doesn't that mean "gentle wind" or something?'
He nodded. 'That's right . . . querida . . . '
And you know what? When he said it that time, I didn't mind so much . . .
'Mount him,' he instructed me, cupping his hands against Zephyr's stomach, supposedly for me to stand on them.
I stuttered something really stupid that not even I could understand, and decided to just shut up and obey. I really hoped that my gut instinct wasn't wrong about Jesse De Silva being as decent as he seemed. So, I gently held onto Zephyr's mane, and pulled myself up with Jesse's help.
Whoa . . . sitting on Zephyr's back made me feel so, well, powerful, as if I could do anything.
Then, a second later, Jesse joined me. He mounted Zephyr with such ease I recognized years of experience. I could feel Jesse's chest mould against my back, and his arms went around my shoulders as he grabbed the reins. But he stopped and put his hand on my arm.
'Susannah, you are cold,' he said.
I shrugged. 'Oh, you know, wasn't really anticipating being picked up by Jesse De Silva and going horse riding on a cold, windy night,' I said inelegantly. 'This kind of thing only happens - whoa!'
Yeah, that was kind of when he kicked Zephyr's stomach gently and pulled the reins, spurring him on. I stopped talking, and just leant into Jesse. He seemed to know what he was doing.
Jeez, Zephyr was fast. Like the wind - oh . . . zephyr, of course, duh. But yeah, he rode swiftly through the trees and then into a clearing, where Jesse stopped him. I looked up and saw that the sky was speckled with thousands of twinkling, silver stars again, but tonight, they seemed so, so much prettier than when I had been with Paul. I realized how close Jesse and I were, and even though I felt scared, it felt too right to back away now.
'Susannah, now I'll tell you about Paul,' he breathed in my ear.
'Okay, shoot,' I replied softly.
He tugged the Zephyr's reins lightly and the majestic horse began to travel at a slow, relaxed walk. I soaked up the tranquillity of the night in a single, long and shuddering breath.
He launched into his story - the truth . . .
'Paul Slater and I grew up together. Our grandfathers were old friends. Paul's grandfather was a shifter, and mine, well, I don't know what mine was. He wasn't normal though. Paul and I were both shifters, and we matured through life, learning about our incredible powers, on top of the amazing gift to speak to the dead. I always had big idea that I would help people when I was young, ever since I helped a young girl called Alice when I was ten. She was only eight, and her mother had recently been killed in a car crash. Alice wasn't getting over it very well at all. Her family had been acquaintances of mine, and we were there for her family in their grief. No one suffered more than Alice, though. Her health was failing, and people thought she'd die of depression. So when Alice's mother came to me as a ghost, and asked me to tell her something important that would help her pass on, I said yes. She told me to tell Alice that she loved her with all her heart, and to never forget her, but to let go, and she said that she forgave her for knocking over the vase. I didn't know what it meant at the time, I just wanted to help. When I delivered this message to Alice, she broke down totally. I told her about the vase thing, and after spending an hour with her, Alice was fully convinced that I was telling the truth and that I wasn't teasing her. When she finally accepted it, oh, the look of her face was the most rewarding experience of her life. It urged me to continue helping people.' He paused.
I didn't want to be rude, but I couldn't see where this was going. But yeah, he continued.
'After that, I did everything I could to help ghosts move on. Some only sought to cause me trouble, and I had to deal with them more brusquely, but I always was able to aid them. Paul, of course, was with me through all of this. He helped me fight of ghosts when they attacked me, and advised me what to do for ghosts that he considered as "petty." He only liked the violent ghosts. He said they were fun. We had good times together, but after a while, his loyalty to me started to slip.'
Ah, I was wondering when he was going to pop back in this . . .
'My grandfather was killed when I was twelve. Mysterious circumstances, the police said. No one ever found out why. Paul started spending more and more time with his grandfather and less with me. And then, about a year ago, Paul completely got lost in the dark side of him. I noticed this when I was working on a group of young, innocent girls who had recently died in a freak accident at their school. I had finally discovered what was keeping them back, and had called to tell Paul about my breakthrough, and he laughed at me on the phone. He told me that I didn't need to worry about them any more. I asked him why. He said that they had come to talk to him, and . . . he'd exorcised them.'
I gasped. 'No.'
'Yes,' Jesse replied grimly. 'I asked him if he was out of his mind. And he said no. That he was just bored. Bored! I was furious with him. I told him to come to my house, so, well, I could ask him why he'd done such a thing. He came, looking careless as ever. It made me so mad, I didn't know what to do. He had been my friend since childhood, but he was ruining everything I believed in. In helping lost spirits, because no one deserves to live in limbo. But he told me there that he'd done more than just exorcise those girls. He'd tortured them first. He described to me exactly what he'd done to them, and how powerful he'd felt. He told me I could experience this power too, if I listened to him for once. He tried to persuade me to use my shifter powers for evil. He said he'd developed his well, and that we could seek greater things. I told him that he was sick, and I never wanted to see him again. And he left. After over fifteen years of knowing each other, he left. I didn't see him again, until a little over six months ago . . .'
I held my breath. This was the part I needed to hear. The part I wanted to know for myself.
Jesse stroked Zephyr's neck, but stopped very quickly, resuming . . .
'Paul showed up in my room on night. Materialized, is the word. I was shocked to see him. I hadn't seen him for a year. His family had moved, and now he had shown up. He looked terrible. He was pale and he looked very . . . desperate.' Jesse sighed. 'Well, I told him to go away, and that his absence had been the best thing for the both of us. He told me to shut up, and he explained that he needed my help. He messed around with the wrong ghost. This ghost, Paul said, was in fact a demon, and had demanded that Paul give him mortal souls or he'd kill him. So, Paul sent all the ghosts to him, and the demon was satisfied for a while. But then the ghosts realized that they weren't being mediated when they went to him, so they stopped going. Eventually, none came, and the demon needed a life, not just ghosts. He went to take Paul's, but Paul ran, saying he'd get a better one. So he came to me. At first, it was only to ask for help. I turned him away, telling him that he deserved everything he got after tormenting innocent ghosts. Paul got angry with me, and tried to take me to this demon. We struggled, and he realized that he couldn't win against me. We'd both trained in fighting, and neither of us was better than the other. So, the fool ran through my house, and grabbed my youngest sister, Adrianna. I couldn't believe that he would do something so cruel as to offer my baby sister to a demon. As he went to dematerialize with her, I jumped at him. His destination was altered, and we all ended up in a vacant house. They say that it used to be a boarding house back in the eighteen hundreds . . . '
Oh my God! He was talking about my house!
'Paul said that I'd had my chance to see reason, and that it was nice knowing me. And then he drew a gun from his jacket, and shot a couple of bullets at me. But in our training, we'd learnt to dodge things like that. I was able to do so then. Adrianna was screaming. Paul was laughing, saying that I was an idiot for not listening to him. He said I'd join the category I loved to help so much. But he said that would happen after he killed Adrianna.'
My mouth fell open. Oh my God . . .
'He aimed the gun at her head, and she was crying so hard. I was terrified, not for my life, but for hers . . . '
Jesse broke off, looking deeply disturbed by then. But a look of determination swept across his face. 'But as he was developing his powers for evil, I was still increasing my shifting powers. I am very skilled at controlling objects with my mind. All my practice paid off when I focused all my fury and fear onto that gun, rotated it, and shot Paul. In the head, I think. He died quickly. I got Adrianna out of there as quick as I could, and back to our house. You see, Susannah, where I come from, family is the most important thing there is. My sisters, all five of them, mean the world to me. Paul threatened my world, and he was punished for it. I don't know what happened to the demon, but he never came to me. I haven't seen Paul since any of this happened,' he concluded, staring far into the night sky.
I blinked. My God . . . Jesse had been defending his sister when he'd killed Paul. So Paul was the cold-blooded killer!
'You love your sisters that much?' I choked. There was a weird lump in my throat. Not to mention, my eyes were wet. See what the night air does to me? See . . . Oh, all right, I was touched. And so what? It was very a poignant story. So yeah yeah, I was crying. I'm allowed to cry when I see such a pure quality like that in someone.
'Yes,' he replied, looking at me levelly.
I shook my head at him. 'That's so . . . beautiful, Jesse.'
I was totally taking a different point of view on this whole murderer thing, wasn't I?
'Thank you,' he replied. And that's when his hand slipped over mine again. My heart stopped, and I turned around promptly. His fingers interlocked with mine, and he said to me, 'You're beautiful, querida . . . '
I felt him kiss my neck ever so gently. It made my body respond in such a way I never thought possible. Very intense chemical reactions were occurring in my chest at the moment, so wonderful they almost hurt.
'Jesse,' I gasped, 'I can't do this -'
But with his hand, he fully turned my chin so I was facing him. His eyes were filled with something I'd never seen in them before. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and my neck was beginning to ache from being turned. I was breathing very fast now. What was he doing? What was I doing? Why did this seem so wrong, yet so, so right at the same time?
. . . And he kissed me . . .
I couldn't believe it. It didn't seem real. So unreal that it was a dream. No, not a dream! Paradise . . . This moment was ecstasy, eternal bliss, cloud nine. It felt as if Jesse was the only one I was ever meant to kiss. I'd drifted into heaven. He felt so perfect on my lips, and tasted so sweet. I pulled away, and smiled softly. He was breathing hard too, embracing me almost as tightly as I was holding onto him.
'On second thought,' I said playfully, smiling mischievously, 'I think I can do this.' And we connected again. Rampant passion fueled this kiss to its ultimate level. I'd never ever felt this way before. The way Paul had tried to kiss me was a muddy sand castle compared to this Empire State Building.
Hang on . . . Paul who?
So me, Susannah Simon, and Jesse De Silva, were sitting on a beautiful black stallion, playing tonsil hockey.
And we were both winning . . .
I didn't want to admit it, but I knew. Oh, how I knew. I wasn't a big believer at love at first sight. Because this had taken a couple of looks.
But we were there. We had found each other. We were - well, at least I was and I certainly hoped he was, because then I would have felt really dumb - in love.
I mean, if that kiss meant what I think it meant.
And I had a really good feeling it did.
After another thirty seconds of the best thing that I'd ever experienced in my whole sixteen years, I stopped. I placed my finger on his lips, and smiled, looking up at the mystical sky.
'Jesse, you'd better take me home now, it's getting late,' I said with such deep happiness, words cannot express.
He smiled back at me, his dark eyes only half open. He looked very wistful and faraway. 'Fair enough. I mean, I have plenty of petrol, I don't think walking will be necessary.' He touched my cheek gently, and swept my hair behind my ear. Then he tugged the reins, and we rode back to his car.
I felt so dazed. That had happened so fast, I was scared that I'd only imagined it. Oh if I had, someone was going to pay . . .
Jesse took Zephyr back into the stable, and then he and I hopped in the car. I told him my street, and he began to drive. We didn't say a word, but our silence said everything. When we got to a street one away from mine, I suddenly said, 'Er, stop here, Jesse. I don't want mum to see me come home in a guy's Cadilac just yet.' It was for another reason too, of course; Paul. Jesse didn't know that I was living with him, and I didn't want him to. And Paul would blow a fuse if he found about me and Jesse meeting . . . and making out. But yeah.
Jesse stopped the car. 'I understand,' he said. 'Goodnight, querida.' And of course, he leant over and gave me a very welcome good night kiss.
'One thing,' he said, and sat back. It was good he'd stopped . . . any more, and I would have been tempted to lose the halter-neck and all. 'Uh, try not to tell anyone the truth about Paul. No body knows that I did that to him, and I know that I should take responsibility for my actions, but I don't want to be punished for a moment where I believed my family came before my desire to keep a, er, clean police record,' he said heavily.
'Don't worry,' I said seriously, and sighed.
'Wild horses couldn't drag it from me . . .'
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