Disclaimer: I do not own The Mediator series by Meg Cabot or the novel Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klause. I'm just temporarily commandeering their characters.
AN: I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed (and even those who didn't reviewed but enjoyed the chapter anyway) the first chapter of Ghost Moon. In order to avoid any confusion in the future, I will be labeling at the beginning of each chapter whose point of view it is. Because Ms. Klause had written Blood and Chocolate in limited 3rd person, that will be what I will be doing for any chapters from Vivian's point of view. Hope you enjoy the 2nd chapter where it is (still) in Suze's point of view.
"You look beautiful tonight querida." Jesse whispered in my ear as we sat down on the warm sand.
Well I had better look beautiful after all my careful planning. Not only did I score a pair of Jimmy Choo slides but I also snagged a Vivienne Westwood dress at a fraction of the cost. Jesse usually told me that I was beautiful but you can never be too careful. I mean, not that I'm jealous or anything, but his coworkers at Carmel-by-the-Sea Historical Society were older, hotter, and somehow still looked good in their work uniforms. Some things just aren't fair, I tell you.
"Jesse, did you really make all this?" By this, I was talking about the dinner picnic laid out before us. It was a spectacle that would have made my stepfather, Andy Ackerman a.k.a. Handy Andy, proud.
Jesse coughed a bit and I knew that was the first sign of embarrassment. Before, it had been impossible to ruffle any of his feathers. He always seemed so calm and self-assured. Hey, I'm no wallflower either but next to him I might as well have been. It could be really frustrating when you're around someone who always lands on their feet.
"Remember how during the winter months I appeared to be preoccupied?"
Tell me about it. I practically had to drag him to go out with CeeCee and Adam for New Year's. "Yeah?"
"During that time period, I had immersed myself in the art of food preparation."
"You mean you learned how to cook." Now this was interesting. Maybe not to you but considering where Jesse came from, this was newsworthy.
That was when he started to babble. "There is only so much I could take of instant food, I don't know how my classmates can stand it. Considering I'm also low on funds, I couldn't necessarily hire a cook anymore than I could impose on your family."
Uh huh, yeah, I believed that. "Then what's this?"
He coughed again. Jesse must have been really embarrassed about learning how to cook. I wonder if there was a story in here that I would have liked to hear. "According to Rachel, in this century, the way to a woman's heart is through her stomach."
Not necessarily true, but I was flattered. It was a nice surprise. I never had a boyfriend make something for me, much less cook. Then again, I never had a boyfriend before Jesse. On the bright side, the wait was worth it for a hottie like him and knew how to cook.
That was when he kissed me and what a kiss it was. His hands started gliding down my shoulders, slowly down to my waist. Now we were getting somewhere. I tell you if there's anything harder than getting the limited edition handbags of a Prada sale, it's convincing Jesse about the ways of the 21st century. But that's what I get for having an ex-ghost for a boyfriend. Yeah, an ex-ghost.
I was born with the natural talent to see ghosts. I was later told by a fortuneteller back in my old home of Brooklyn, New York that I was a mediator. Someone who helped wandering souls a.k.a. ghosts pass on to the other side. The problem is that not every ghost wants to finish their unfinished business. So I have to help them along and a number aren't very receptive to my help. It's a crummy job, I tell you. No overtime, no Christmas bonus, no pay whatsoever.
Through some quirk of time travel (aren't we mediators special? Not only can we see the dead but we can also travel through time) I accidentally brought an alive Jesse from the past who ended up merging with the present ghost Jesse. He ended up being able to see the ghosts as well so at least now when I go ghost hunting, I have a partner I don't mind hanging around with.
Unfortunately his mind is still in the 50s, the 1850s. Sometimes what he does is sweet; other times I let him live and learn. And he was doing a good job right now because his hands were sliding up my thighs from underneath my dress. I may work with the dead but I'm still a hot-blooded teenager. I silently thanked Ms. Westwood for designing this dress with a built-in-bra. Only one more step to go.
My hands were curling around his neck into his silky black hair. He had stopped kissing my mouth and started kissing my cheek, then my neck, my collarbone, and then…he stopped. His gentlemanly morals just had to come back right now didn't they? It's damn frustrating if you ask me. But judging from how quickly he righted my clothes and myself back, it wasn't his gentlemanly morals that made an appearance and put him on guard. "Susannah."
It was the man standing to our side. He was about Andy's age, maybe a few years younger. Either way, he was old enough to be my father. He didn't look particularly disturbed by our scene nor did he have a perverted gaze. There was a glow to his form, which was the first clue to his ghosthood. His clothes were modern so at least he was in the same century.
"Vivian," he murmured.
"Uh, the name is Suze."
The ghost shook his head. "No, Vivian, my daughter. She is here?"
Another thing about ghosts: some tend to follow you, and I mean FOLLOW you.
"Vivian Gandillon." He clarified for us, probably thinking we didn't understand.
"Yeah, I know her. She's in my class."
"What message would you like us to deliver to your daughter?" Jesse asked gently.
"Tell her Axel is alive."
"You mean a car axle?"
"No, no, Axel, our enemy." Okay, maybe I was wrong about the century. "She needs to know in order to protect her people."
Now I was lost but Jesse had this introspective look on his face. "Go on."
"Axel survived the fall."
"What fall?"
"The one I drew him to." Now that was a new one. Was Axel some ex-boyfriend? I heard of overprotective fathers but this seemed a little far-fetched if you asked me.
"Your daughter might not believe us, so please, start your story from the beginning."
"Before the fire, I had to punish the Five. They had gotten too out of control. If I could, I would have saved them all but only four could go through the Trial by Fur. Axel had to die for the danger he had put us in."
"Whoa, whoa, there. Who's us?" I interrupted.
"The pack."
If I was lost before, I was without a roadmap or a GPS system right now. What did he think his family was?
Fortunately, Jesse was a step ahead of me. "Why do you choose to call your family a pack?"
"We are not like you."
"Tell me about it. Not everyone can see ghosts." I muttered. This was getting too weird even for my life.
The man shook his head. "We are not human, we are homo lupus."
"You're human wolves?" Jesse asked.
"That is a relative term. We have accepted the term wolf for our other forms because that is what it closely resembles."
"Wait, are you telling us there's such things as werewolves?"
"Are there such people who can see the dead?"
He got me there. "Okay, we'll tell her."
"May we have you name in case your daughter still doesn't believe us?"
"Ian Gandillon. But be careful. Our kind doesn't take kindly to human strangers."
Before either Jesse or I could say anything else, he vanished. That's most ghosts for you, no manners at all.
I laid back on the sand, blowing my hair out of my face. "This is just great. Why can't anyone who transfers in be normal?"
"Susannah, we must help him." Jesse stated sternly.
"Uh Jesse, in case you didn't hear correctly, that guy just said his werewolf pals don't take kindly to strangers. So if they get pissed, what are we going to do? Shoot them with silver bullets?"
"Perhaps if we approach this Vivian without hostility, she will not see us as a threat."
Geez, I swear, there are days I wonder if Jesse's been hanging around Father Dominic too much. I admit, there are people, both dead and alive, who are more receptive to mediator help, but generally they're not. I've had buildings fall on me, been almost drowned on a number of occasions, been chased with ghostly minions (long story), and, oh, my absolute favourite, being knocked around just because I tried to help. I don't know what kind of ghosts Jesse's been mediating but definitely not what I go through on a regular basis.
Then again, maybe they were all female. I know if he had been mediating me, I would have been more than happy to listen. I wasn't blessed with that good of looks. I'm not a dog but I'm not exactly Keira Knightly either. Jesse, on the other hand, was up there with Orlando Bloom and Antonio Banderas.
So now I had to find someway to tell Vivian, without pissing her off or getting eaten, that her father had a message about this Axel being alive. And not only was I dealing with a biker chic who hung around bad ass muscles everyday but they were also werewolves. This was so not the nice surprise I had in mind.