Ghosted: A Paranormal Romantic Comedy Read online

  My fingers curled tight around the steering wheel.

  “Humans don’t do it for you?” I asked.

  “Didn’t say that. I can get off to anything, even centaurs. Don’t ask. That was a weird kink phase of my life.” He rolled down the window, sticking his head out the side like a dog. “Damn, this fresh air feels so good!”

  “Get back in here! What if someone sees you!” I tugged his arm, pulling him back into the car.

  “Relax. I’ll be on my best behavior. No one knows I’m a genie. I look like an ordinary man, right?” He ran his hand through his hair, shaking it out in slow motion.

  “Yep. Normal,” I lied, pressing my lips together.

  There was nothing ordinary about the way Dylan looked. Not the way he carried himself, his posture, or his deep voice that vibrated on every syllable. This creature wasn’t like any man I’d known.

  “Your eyes give you away. They flicker. Like a flame.” I shrugged my shoulders.

  “They are flames. Check it out.” He leaned into me.

  I caught a whiff of his intoxicating, woodsy, smoky, manly, extremely real-life-human scent, and my car ran off the road.

  “I’m trying to drive!” I cried, veering back into my lane.

  “Sorry! Sorry! I forgot. Humans can die. Shit! Well, along those lines, we can too. When these flames go out, I go out.” He leaned back in his seat.

  “What? I thought you were immortal?”

  “Kind of. I reincarnate. It’s never happened, obviously. I’m still a genie living in a dildo and not a human in a Manhattan apartment, living a posh life. But hey, I like this genie thing. For the most part. When I’m summoned anyway. Otherwise, staying cooped up in a room by myself for decades can be a drag.”

  “How do you know you can reincarnate if it’s not happened?” I pulled into the drive-through line.

  “Damn, you’re full of questions for someone who wants this magic business out of her life.” He raised his brows before dipping his head to read the menu.

  “I’m just curious, is all. Is there some special genie network, and you guys know all the things?”

  “First of all, it’s guys and gals. There are women genies. And second of all, yes. That’s exactly what it is. We share information. We come into the world with it—it somehow appears in our brain—and we just know things. Like, for instance, I know that eating human food will make me feel like shit. But it’s so good that I’m going to do it anyway. I learned that through the telepathic genie line eons ago, but it’s never stopped me from trying. Like now. I’ll take the Mack Daddy meal with a chocolate milkshake, please. Never vanilla. I’d give you cash, but I haven’t worked in the history of ever. Sorry! Oh, and a tea to go, too, please.”

  The thought of tea brought my mind back to Great Aunt Karen’s place. I swallowed hard, losing my appetite. I pulled up to the intercom and ordered our meals, paid for them, and sped off toward my mom’s place while Dylan simultaneously hummed and munched next to me. He dipped his fries in his milkshake and inhaled them as if he’d been starving for the last decade.

  He tore the lid off of his tea and gulped down the drink, licking his lips before speaking again, “You know, another one of my abilities is that I’m able to pick up on things.” He pulled his burger out and ate it in a handful of bites.

  “Like an empath?” I asked.

  I veered left down a gravel drive, glancing into the rearview mirror at the smoky trail of dust I’d left behind. The familiar sound of rocks under my tires caused the hair at the nape of my neck to stand on end.

  “No clue what that is. Dumb it down for me.” He wiped his hands on a napkin before rolling the empty foil wrapper into a ball and stuffing it back into the bag.

  “You can feel other people’s emotions, and it affects you. Basically.”

  “Hmm. I guess so. It doesn’t affect me that much though. Or it hasn’t. But I’m feeling you out right now. You’re anxious. Scared. Terrified even.”

  “And that makes you anxious, scared, and terrified?” I pulled in front of the dilapidated clapboard house. It looked the same as it had when I was younger, like a pillar of dread. White paint chipped off the wood in flecks as big as my hands, exposing a grayish-bone-hued tone, as if the home had shed its skin to expose its skeleton. I shivered, turning the engine off.

  “No. It makes me feel protective. Angry even. Vengeful.” His eyes flickered in a blaze of lightning, blinding me like a doe-eyed dumbass in headlights. His growl came out thick, like a low rumble of thunder.

  He reached for my hand, pulling me back into my seat. I hadn’t realized I was trying to open the door and run.

  “Something’s here. I don’t like it. Why do you feel anxious? Did something happen to you here?”

  “No. Nothing too terrible. I just always had a sense of dread, coming here. Great Aunt Karen used to treat me like Cinderella. Do this and do that, she’d say. I worked my knuckles raw, scrubbing her floors and her tubs. She was never grateful. She only sneered at me, laughing and calling me stupid. Telling me I’d never amount to shit. She’d say I was as dumb as the sponge I used to clean her bath. I never had the backbone to stand up to her. I don’t know how you two were ever a thing. How could you like someone like that? That lady was—”

  “A jealous witch. I recall her telling me about a girl helping around here from time to time. That must have been you. It was on those days that she’d lock me up inside the box. She didn’t want me to see you. I don’t need my magical abilities to see that Karen was jealous of you. Even when you were younger, she knew how beautiful you were. And intelligent and that you were going places and she’d stay here in this rotten place for good.

  “As far as my relationship with her, Karen had charmed me. She was a good witch until she was a bad witch. I had no idea of her split-personality complex until she found me banging Twinkerballs. Dodged a bullet with that one, I’d say. We both did. You left, and I hid.”

  “Thanks. That’s really nice of you to say.” I took a deep breath, gathering whatever little courage I had before heading inside.

  I’d called my mother earlier and let her know I was coming, but she said she wouldn’t be back for a while. She’d left a key under the doormat, warning me that her place was a mess and not to judge her.

  Too late, Ma.

  Her absence alone should have calmed me. But the sense of dread still gnawed at me, bubbling into my throat like invisible hands slowly strangling me from the inside out.

  “You’ll be fine. Nothing’s going to hurt you when I’m around. Besides, that old witch is gone. How’d she die anyway? Burning at the stake, I hope.” Dylan’s assurance smoothed over me like a blanket of calm—my own personal anxiety blanket.

  “Old age, I guess. A friend found her in bed. I think she died in her sleep. The friend phoned my mom to let her know, and that was that. She was buried and this house was passed down to my mom, Annie. Not sure if Karen ever mentioned her.”

  “No. Never heard the name. I didn’t even know Karen had friends. She seemed like a loner to me—content in her own little world out here, in the middle of nowhere. Gosh, I hate seeing this place again, probably as much as you do. I knew something was up when I felt myself jostling around in that box. I’d been lying in the damn attic for too long to be back so quickly.” He stretched his back before slumping his shoulders and sighing. “Let’s get this over with. Let’s find that magic butt plug and get you those wishes. You’ll be out of this forsaken town before you know it. Just drop me off somewhere beforehand, please. Maybe Tahiti or Paris. I heard French girls … ya know.” He wiggled his brows.

  “Ugh. Oui, oui. Let’s go.” I rolled my eyes and opened the door, forcing myself out of the car.

  FOUR

  Dylan

  Whatever uneasiness fell upon Claire fell upon me too. I’d picked up on her vibes as soon as we turned down the long, gravel drive. Her fear had me on high alert. There was no telling what could be lurking in the depths of Karen’s ho
use. Maybe she’d cursed the place with a spell that even my sick mind couldn’t imagine. My nostrils flared as we stepped inside the house. I’d made Claire walk behind me as I led her up the stairs.

  The air hung heavy with the smell of ashtrays and something rotting. I unfolded the wooden ladder and gently nudged Claire upstairs before I floated to the top.

  “No fair. Must be nice to float around lazily,” Claire said.

  “It does have its perks. I can still do a few tricks.” I swung my hand in the air, releasing a string of butterflies.

  “Useful.” She pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. “What does it look like?” she asked, pulling a cardboard box over toward the window, plopping herself down beside it, and rummaging.

  “Like a big blue butt plug. Don’t you know what that looks like?” I paused, peering over a stack of boxes.

  Sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating her golden locks in a bright, glowing halo.

  “I guess I thought maybe it would be in a trashy jeweled box like you were in.”

  “Did you just call my dildo trash? How dare you. Rude!” I opened a box of old curtains and pillowcases, setting it aside.

  “No. I didn’t say dildo. I said box. I assumed that since your magic toy lived in a box, she might have put the other magic toy in a fancy box too. Makes sense.” She shrugged, closing the box. “It’s not in this one. Hand me another.” She shoved it to the side.

  “I don’t know if she put it in there or not. Knowing her, she probably buried herself with it.” I kicked another box toward her.

  “I’m not digging up my great aunt to pull a butt plug from her ass. So, don’t even ask,” she muttered.

  “Ew! Who said she had it in her ass? Gosh, Claire. Where’s your mind? I thought she’d clutched it in her fist, and we would have to pry it from her cold, dead hand. Not dig it from her skeleton butt,” I said.

  She giggled, reaching inside another box. I felt her change in mood as a warm tingle spread throughout my body.

  “Was that a giggle? I don’t think I’ve heard that before. Do it again. It felt good.” I stepped closer to her, perching on an old wooden chair prickled with splinters.

  She threw her head back, opened her mouth wide, and let out a high-pitched guffaw before turning back to me with a satisfied grin. “Ask and you shall receive.”

  “So, you do have a funny bone in there. I thought you were Little Miss Serious. But I think I’m wrong. You can be as silly as me. Muahahaha.” I let out a deep, rumbling, throaty, evil laugh.

  “Just because my dark sense of humor shows herself every once in a while doesn’t mean I can be as silly as you. You’re on a twelve-year-old boy level. I’m closer to fifteen.” She winked, tossing another box aside.

  “I can’t tell if you’re flirting with me or insulting me, but I’ll take it. You’re making my body feel all warm and fuzzy.” I leaped in the air, twirling in my most majestic genie moves.

  “Definitely insulting.” She pointed to the last stack of boxes in the corner and snapped her fingers.

  “I’m your genie, not your slave. Sheesh. I poked my head in those already. Nothing’s in there but old photos. Let’s try the basement. Chop-chop.” I snapped my fingers back at her.

  “I’ll meet you down there. Let me take a quick look around some closets and drawers.” She pushed herself off the floor, arching her back in one long stretch.

  “I’ll wait.”

  “No. Why? It’ll go faster if we’re in two places at once. Plus, my mom is a mess. You don’t need to help me with her junk.”

  “I don’t care about your mom’s hygiene or cleaning habits. I feel that dread again. I’m not leaving you alone.” I stepped aside, letting her climb down the attic ladder.

  “I’ll be fine. I just get the heebie-jeebies from that basement, is all. That’s what you’re feeling.”

  I floated down toward her, blocking her path. “No. I don’t think you need to be alone in this house. I’m getting an unsettling feeling, and it’s not just coming from you. I’m your genie. I’m a part of you until I’m not. You’re safest with me.” I reached out, cupping her shoulders with my palms and forcing her to look into my eyes.

  “Okay.” She lowered her lashes, staring at her worn-out tennis shoes. “Let’s get the basement over with first then. I want to get out of here soon. If she hid it somewhere, she wouldn’t want it found. I’m sure it’s in that damn creepy basement.” She turned on her heels, walking back downstairs and toward the basement door.

  Empty bottles of liquor lay strewn about the kitchen countertop with half-eaten molded toast, shriveled strawberry tops, and a coffee pot full of filmed-over coffee.

  She blushed, waving away the mess. “My mom is … going through some things. As usual. Sorry it’s disgusting in here.”

  “You don’t have to apologize to me. Not like I have to live here anymore. I also know you won’t send me back to this grave. Not after I dazzle you with your wishes. You’ll be forever grateful.” I put my hand on her lower back, steering her around the mess.

  “You sure are confident in yourself. But you’re right. I’ll send you somewhere nice. Maybe the next woman who rubs one out will be the one for you. The forever one. She’ll have big, bouncy boobs, a round and perky ass, and fuck you like your green faerie girl.” Her voice trailed off as she opened the creaky basement door and flicked on the light.

  “Stop. Let me go first.” I put my arm out and pushed her back behind me. “Something’s in there. I can feel it.”

  “What do you mean, something’s in there?”

  “That dread you’re feeling. It’s coming from the basement. It could be a wight, a ghost, a demon. I don’t know, but I’m about to get rid of it for good.”

  “You can do that? What if you get hurt? You can’t leave me alone here!” She tugged my shoulder, pulling me backward. “Please,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be back,” I said in my best robotic impression of that weird movie Karen had made me watch long ago.

  “Damn it, Dylan. This isn’t a time to be silly! I’m scared.” She wrung her hands, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

  “And nothing down here scares my lady like that,” I growled before ripping my shirt off and throwing it behind me. I closed my eyes, concentrating on making myself twice as big as my usual size. I stooped, narrowly avoiding my head crashing into the ceiling.

  “I had no idea you could do that,” she said, craning her neck to look up at me.

  “I wasn’t sure I still could. It’s been a while. Stay put. I’ll check it out.” I disappeared down the stairs, eyes ablaze.

  I dodged the dim, useless lightbulb that hung from the rafters and made my way toward the back. I hovered inches above the ground, not wanting to risk stepping on something that could reach out and grab my leg before I had a chance to attack first. I’d fought evil creatures before, and I’d do it again. But I was taking precautions with Claire. If something happened to her on my watch, I’d never forgive myself. I wanted to end her adventures in the magical world as much as she did. Life in this realm was too dangerous for her. But then again, I’d never see her again after that third wish. She’d disappear from me as soon as I said abracadabra.

  I suppressed a sigh, slowly inching forward. The scent of mildew mixed with something rotten grew heavy, lingering in the air and stifling my breaths.

  Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

  Something scratched from the back corner. I paused, listening again.

  Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

  My eyes grew brighter, slowly lighting the path before me. Whatever beast was making that noise was much too big to be a mouse and, thankfully, much too small to be a skeleton.

  Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

  I puffed out my chest and took a few steps forward.

  Scratch.

  I floated above a small skull, a mound of fur, and tiny bones littering the cement floor. When I’d lived with Karen, she’d always compl
ained about the rats in her basement. But now, I was beginning to think she’d had a bigger problem than rodents.

  Scratch. Scratch.

  “A wiggity wiggity wack,” a low, nasally voice called out.

  “Did someone just say, wiggity wiggity wack?” I asked, hesitating before I took another step forward.

  “Welcome to my crib, bruh. That’s me. Big Glug-Glug,” the voice answered.

  Scratch. Scratch.

  I cast my eyes to the far corner, illuminating the fattest goblin I’d ever seen. His bulbous nose bent down in the shape of a flaccid penis. He bobbed his round body side to side while scratching records on a turntable nestled between his beefy thighs.

  Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

  “Right. Big Glug-Glug. Uh, what are you doing here?” I scratched my head.

  I’d had my fair share of dealings with goblins, but those encounters had been frightening. Big Glug-Glug looked like he’d require a forklift to pry him from the ground.

  “I could ask the same of you. Why you down here, disturbing my recording studio? I’m trying to make a rap song. Scratching records and shit, bruh. I had it going good until you came along, distracting me with your big-ass, floaty smoke bag.” The goblin reached behind himself, picked up what looked like a squirrel’s tail, and took a bite.

  “Floaty smoke bag? I don’t look like a bag!” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t mean to disturb your, uh, rap session. I’m searching for something. I’ll be out of your way in just a moment.”

  “Dylan? Are you speaking to someone? I’m coming down. I found a flashlight,” Claire said. Her footsteps echoed down the stairs. The bright light in her hand bounced back and forth off the walls as she ran toward me.

  “Come on over. You’re safe,” I called back.

  “Man, what? How do you know y’all are safe? I’m hard. I’m a goblin. I can fuck yo shit up. See that pile of bones right there? That was a rat family. Used to be my good friends. But then I ate ’em.” Big Glug-Glug pointed at a few scattered bones beside him.

  “Why would you do that?” I looked back behind me, motioning for Claire.