Chapter 1
Avery Wagner mentally reviewed his checklist as he searched through his suitcase, even though he was certain he had packed everything he needed. With a heavy sigh, he zipped the large case shut and lifted it to the floor. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t want to do this.
That wasn’t entirely true. Avery didn’t mind giving lectures for Requiem Inc. whenever they asked. As long as he didn’t have to actively ghostwalk, he was fine talking about it. Dying and coming back to life had become nearly impossible since he lost his anchor—his bonded. Four years had passed since Luke died, and Avery still felt the loss. Perhaps not as keenly as he once did, but it was still an aching, painful hole in his chest.
The doorbell rang, and Avery stood and shook off his thoughts with the action. He pulled up on the handle on his large suitcase and wheeled it down the hall and into the entranceway. It joined a garment bag and his messenger bag, waiting to be packed into the car.
“Hi, Mr. Wagner,” Logan said brightly as Avery pulled open the door. The kid lived next door, and he was one of the good ones. He was smart, conscientious, and responsible, and Avery had no worry about leaving his house to the teen’s care while he was gone.
“Come on in.” Avery stepped back so Logan could enter, and he watched for a moment as Logan took in the surroundings. The place hadn’t changed since Luke died, because Avery couldn’t bring himself to do it. Avery needed his home to stay the same.
He crossed to the edge of the kitchen and picked up a set of house keys he’d left on the counter. When he turned back, Logan was watching him, so he tossed the keys, and Logan caught them easily and grinned.
“Those are yours. The big one unlocks the deadbolt. The smaller is for the handle.” Avery waited until Logan nodded and pocketed the keys. Then he continued. “Toss the mail in the basket there on the sideboard, if you would. I’ll go through it when I get back.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Wagner.”
Avery motioned for Logan to follow. Then he pushed open the French doors that led off the corner of the living room and onto the sunporch. It was his favorite place in the house—his sanctuary. He’d chosen each piece of furniture with care and filled it with all manner of plants. Dieffenbachia stood in tall pots on the floor, pothos and spider plants hung in baskets at every window. He had a Ficus in the corner, and a paradise palm by the door. Avery took a breath of the warm, humid air, and turned to Logan.
“They’ll need to be watered every day.” He opened the cupboard, showed Logan the supplies, and made quick mention of how to mix the plant food. “Preferably in the evening, after the sun starts setting. That way the heat and sun won’t dry up the water before the plants have a chance to absorb it.”
Logan took out his phone and made a note about the plant food. He shoved it back in his pocket and graced Avery with a wide grin.
“I’m on it. You don’t have to worry, Mr. Wagner.”
“I know I don’t.” Avery smiled in return. “I’ll be gone two weeks this time, as it’s the start of the training session. And then on and off for a few days at a time for a couple of months.”
“My dad and I will watch the place. And I’ll take good care of your plants.”
Avery’s smile widened, even as nerves coalesced in his stomach. Logan had the rundown, and it was time to hit the road. He glanced at his watch and saw he was already fifteen minutes behind schedule. It was a four-and-a-half-hour drive to Duncan Moor from his home in New Jersey, and Avery needed to get on the road.
Requiem had offered to fly him in and pay for a rental car, but Avery thought that was ridiculous. He’d spend longer waiting at the airport than actually in the air, and he’d arrive quicker if he drove. He also turned down the company’s offer to rent him a room at a B and B in town. He was nervous enough about leaving his home and participating in training. He wanted the comfort of friends, and when Blake and Derek offered him a room in their home, he gratefully accepted. At least his downtime would be comfortable.
Avery saw Logan out, turned down the young man’s offer to help him load the car, and took care of the task himself. Then he did one more walk-through of his home to make sure the doors and windows were locked and the air-conditioning set low. Finally he could find no more excuses to linger. He grabbed a bottle of water, locked his front door, and got into his car.
He navigated down the mountain—the twisty road required all his attention—breathed out a heavy sigh, and hit the buttons on his steering wheel to call Michael.
“You on the road yet?”
Avery chuckled at his oldest friend’s greeting. “I’m okay. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
Michael blew out a breath, and there was a little humor in his tone when he responded. “I worry. I expected your call an hour ago.” He paused, cleared his throat, and then continued. “And I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
Avery smiled and dug his sunglasses out of the center console. He slipped them on and answered. “And, yes, I’m on the road now. Should be there in a little over four hours, depending on when or if I need to stop.”
“And you’re going straight to Blake’s?”
“I was planning on it.”
“Good. Derek has been cooking up a storm. He’s invited me and Sam for dinner. But I wanted to check with you to see if that’s okay.”
Avery rolled his eyes. “If I said no, you’d be waiting in the driveway when I got there, worried out of your head.”
Michael’s warm chuckle soothed something inside Avery. “Probably, yes. I’m hardwired that way.”
“You’re overbearing is what you are.” He tempered the jab with a smile. Even though Michael couldn’t see him, Avery knew it would come through in his words. “I’m okay, Michael. Really.”
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”
“I’m on their payroll. I do what they tell me.” Even as Avery said it, he knew that wasn’t entirely true. Requiem had been more than accommodating when Luke died, and had kept Avery on staff even though he wouldn’t actively ghostwalk anymore. The ability to die and come back to life and to be aware while in the spirit plane was rare. They didn’t want to lose Avery or his expertise just because he couldn’t ghostwalk.
“I would have talked to them,” Michael insisted, his words little more than a growl. Michael was one of his closest friends. They had trained together at the same time, but more than that, Michael had the anchor gene. In Michael, it went a step further, as he developed telepathic abilities and had the capacity to concentrate his care on multiple operatives at a time. Michael wasn’t just an anchor, he was a Guardian.
“And maybe you would have gotten them to listen.” Avery doubted it, though. The board was dead set on starting the training program at the Duncan Moor branch and was just as determined that Avery work with the program. Since he was comfortable there, and it was just lecturing and sharing his knowledge, Avery hadn’t fought too hard. Once they took ghostwalking off the table, that is. At least that way, he was in a place he didn’t hate with people he liked. And hopefully, as long as he cooperated, they wouldn’t try to get more out of him.
As understanding as they had been about his bonded’s death and the aftermath it wreaked on Avery, he didn’t know how long that would last.
“Damn straight, I would have. Avery, I can still talk to them if you’re not—”
“I’m fine,” Avery interrupted. It was better to cut Michael off before he built up a head of steam. It was also the truth. He was in a better place than he’d been even six months earlier. He would never fully recover from Luke’s death, but he was healing. “Really, Michael. I’ll come, I’ll lecture, I’ll visit, and I’ll go home again. Rinse and repeat. It’s better than the alternative.”
Michael was silent for a long time. Finally he sighed. “All right. I’ll stop pushing.”
Avery snorted out a laugh. “No, you won’t.”
“Can’t help it,” Michael said flippantly. “I care about you, and that means you have to deal with me being, well…me.”
“Yeah, I know.” Avery smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you.” Avery tapped the button to disconnect the call before Michael could think of something else to say. He needed silence, and he liked to make long drives. It gave him time to think.
Tomorrow, he’d be standing in front of a group of trainees on the last leg of their journey—ghostwalkers and anchors all but ready to start their career. They’d had all the theoretical training they could get, and they’d made it that far. The last three to six months were about actually putting that training to use. Ghostwalkers would die, their anchors would care for them, and they’d all learn how to navigate the process. Avery’s lectures would be about walking on the spirit plane and how to help lost souls cross over. His one-on-one sessions would address individual concerns.
He could do it.