After Life (Medium at Large book 5) by Meredith Spies

Author:Meredith Spies
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: MM romance, paranormal romance, lgbtqia romance, gay romance, ghosts (fiction), MM paranormal romance, gay paranormal romance, lgbtqia paranormal romance
Publisher: Meredith Spies
Published: 2022-12-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7 — Oscar

Ray-Don arrived just after we’d finished dinner. He pounded on the door to be heard over the storm, not letting up even once. When I opened it, he startled. “Expecting someone else. You look... different,” he said distractedly. “Like you changed up something. But”—he shrugged— “it’s been a long day. My eyes are tired, ain’t what they used to be. I need to close up the hurricane shutters. Might be some bangin’ sounds but it’s just me. Didn’t want to scare y’all.” He held up a metal toolbox and gave it a rattle. “You got supplies? It isn’t supposed to be too bad but if we’re cut off from the mainland, that means no grocery runs for a day or two and I’m already closed up for the duration.”

“We’re fine,” I said, hoping it was true. “Um how do you know it’s not going to be a bad one?”

“‘S only a cat two,” Ray-Don sniffed. “Gonna go right over us, if we’re lucky. This island’s been here forever. It ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He paused, then grinned. “We might, but Broken Palm will be fine.”

He cackled, all too pleased with himself as he trundled down the porch to start on the set of wooden shutters I’d taken to be aesthetic only.

Julian tugged me back into the house, closing the door against the spitting rain and, after brief hesitation, turning the lock. “We need to check the supplies, make sure they’re actually useful.”

I followed, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. “I know you’re here,” I murmured as Julian rummaged in the hall closet, pulling out a large plastic tub marked Hurricane Supplies—Box 1 in black marker letters.

“What?”

“Sorry, talking to someone else.”

Julian looked up at me, frowning. “Anyone I need to worry about?”

I shook my head. No one he needed to worry about, no. Julian stared at me an extra moment, then resumed his rummaging.

A soft sigh and the sound of voices murmuring teased me, pulled me down the foyer until I reached the door to what looked like an office, but an old one. Nothing modern about it: an old desk that probably weighed more than any car I’d ever been in, dark bound books lining the walls, a blotter with yellowed paper, and an actual ink well with a nibless pen took up most of the room. It smelled of dust, age, and old paper with the barest hint of damp and some dusty floral. The voices, though, were coming from everywhere in the empty room. “Hello,” I murmured. “I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but you’re a bit loud.”

The voices stopped but a cold almost electric sensation spread up my legs, around my torso, settling behind my neck. A funny pressure wrapped around my head, and I had the distinct sensation of being smothered. No, I realized. Of being examined somehow. The pressure wasn’t painful or predatory, more... curious, I thought. I didn’t have Ezra’s empathic abilities, so much of the nuance was lost on me, but the way the energy moved, gently pulsing and sliding, was almost calming.

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