A Ghost of a Chance by Lanyon Josh

Author:Lanyon, Josh [Lanyon, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay fiction, gay contemporary fiction
ISBN: 9781937909116
Publisher: Just Joshin
Published: 2012-03-11T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I was seeing stars.

“Are you all right?” The voice floating above me was soft and alarmed. A black bulk bent over me.

I jackknifed up — and just missed banging heads with the owner of the voice. “I-I think so…” Actually, I felt a little sick in the wake of that rush of fear and adrenaline — not to mention the shock of hitting my head.

I had a blurred impression of massive shoulders and silver fur. It didn’t do much to settle my nerves.

Feeling around in the grass, I found my glasses and examined the wire frames doubtfully. The lenses were fine but the frames fit crookedly when I slipped them on. I viewed my companion.

He was big — even bigger than Sam. Tall and broad with a dark hawkish face and long silver hair and beard. Silver eyebrows too.

“Here, let me help you up.” Forceful hands fastened on my upper arms and lifted me onto my feet. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t.” I put a hand to my forehead, brought it away. No blood as far as I could tell. That was good, though I could feel a knot rising beneath my cautious fingers. It pulsed, tender to the touch.

“You’re Oliver’s little friend.” His eyes were very dark, like black holes in his face.

I irritably shook off my fancifulness. An elderly man and the safety of Oliver’s house within sprinting distance: there was nothing here I couldn’t handle. I bent to brush myself off.

“I don’t know if friend is quite the right word,” I glanced up. “I don’t know if little is quite the right word. You make me sound like a pet rabbit.”

He chuckled. “Sure you’re all right?”

“Mostly. You’re Thaddeus Sterne, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He did that chuckling thing again.

I said as though we were standing in C.K.’s gallery, “I’m a great admirer of your work.”

“Are you?” He sounded amused. “Would you like to come back to my house and see some of it?”

It seemed an odd time for a visit, even if he was one of living legends of the art world. “I should probably be getting back,” I said regretfully.

“I think you should come with me,” he said gently. “David Berkeley’s waiting for you.”

“I…what?” I jerked upright, interested at how calm I sounded. Calm and a little faint. Which was pretty much how I felt.

“Look.” He pointed down the road. I stared. There in the bend where the trees dipped low and the shadows were deep I could see —

No. I didn’t see anything but shadows. And Thaddeus Sterne was almost certainly off his rocker.

But my eyes wouldn’t seem to look away, and as I focused I seemed to be able to pick out the tall, faceless figure. A tall man standing silent in the center of the path.

This was what I had seen the night I arrived. Not Thaddeus Sterne at all. The shade of David Berkeley.

Ridiculous. I was just reacting to the suggestion…

“Why would he wait for me?” I asked carefully, unable to tear my gaze away from the umbra in the path.

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