Page 45 of Dead Vengeance

“My train was delayed,” Fabian replies, and something about the quiet and resentful drawl puts me immediately on my guard.

It gets worse when Ted then tells him, “This is Liam. He’s a Senior Spirit Extraction Specialist. He’ll be showing you the ropes on the job today.”

“He’s a—” I choke out. “I’ll do what?”

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Ted carries on, as if I haven’t spoken at all, “I have some sleep to catch up on, and you’re both expected at the client’s establishment by nine a.m.”

“Ted, no! You can’t just throw me in the deep end like this. I have no idea what I’m doing!” But even as I’m talking, he’s turned his back and walked away into Gerald’s office. “Ted!”

He’s slammed the door. He’s locked the door. He’s standing there, looking out through the horizontal blinds at me, arms crossed. Waiting for me to leave.

“Ted, can you come out, please?”

He reaches a hand forward and twists the blinds shut.

I just know, if I go over there and try to get in, there’s a very good chance he’ll climb out that window like Gerald did yesterday.

My gaze shifts to Fabian, who’s staring at the closed blinds as if it’s the most boring thing he’s ever seen. And he asks me, “So… are you paying for our train or what?”

Fabian is thin, tall, hollow-cheeked, and white as a sheet. His eyebrow is pierced, his eyeliner is sharp, and his hair is bleach blond with loads of product that makes it spikey.

Unlike me, he has overalls that fit, and I’m kind of annoyed Ted must have got new ones in and didn’t mention it. I’d love to bring that up with him sometime, maybe with Gerald there for backup.

For now, I can only sit here in silence on this train with Fabian. He pulled out a book the moment we got on, and I’m not a big enough asshole to interrupt and ask what he’s reading, so the conversation has been non-existent. He’s so quiet that I can’t decide if he’s either scared, or not even a bit bothered by what’s about to happen. Maybe he’s as sceptical as I was this time yesterday.

Ideally, he’d stay that way, if only I could figure out how to keep him there while I get to the bottom of Archer’s ghost problem. Which just became my ghost problem. Which needs a serious discussion today.

Our stop’s announced, and with it, Fabian closes the book and drops it on the table between us, where I see the title clearly for the first time: Classic Ghost Stories of the Regency.

Something about that makes me almost laugh, and I can’t help but ask, “Like ghosts, do you?”

He flips back a streak of blond and assesses me, as if I’m making fun of him. I’m really not. If anything, it’s probably smart to be prepared. Or, at least, interested.

So I quickly explain, “This place is very haunted. It’s not bullshit at all. I saw one yesterday, full and complete.”

He leans forward, mouth dropping open with more enthusiasm than I thought he’d have in his entire body. “A real ghost?”

“Yep. And it’s dangerous too. Almost killed the guy who came with me yesterday. So you’ll need to be on your guard.”

Instead of looking scared, or even cautious, his eyes grow big, and there’s a smile on the lower lip he drags beneath his teeth. “Very powerful, is it?”

“Yeah. It is…” I cast my mind over what Archer told me last night. “Because it’s old, like Regency old, like your book there. So it’s learned how to move things around, as well as appear to people.”

“Regency?” he whispers, and for all the world he looks like I’m a duke who just invited him to the ball of the century.

“Apparently.” I glance at his book again. “Is that… something you’re interested in?”

He snatches up the book and clutches it tight to his chest. “I have an affinity for the Regency era.”

“Then you’ll probably find today interesting.” I’m trying to keep things light but dying inside. I’d secretly hoped he’d walk out in the first five minutes.

The train’s slowing, so I get up, and he pockets the book to follow close behind me. “Did you talk to it?”

“No. No, it didn’t say a word. I don’t know if it can speak.”

“Hahhhh.” It’s an off sound that he makes. Some kind of weird approval? But at least he’s talking.

I lead him out of the station, down the street, trying to think how best to explain what else is going on in that place.