Somebody to Die For

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It took Jameson a couple of minutes to realize the room had fallen silent. Between one person and the next, he’d tuned out the talking. It wasn’t his fault, exactly. He’d never had the best attention span to begin with, and the morning’s speaker was still occupying his thoughts. Ever since Avery Wagner stood up in front of the room, he’d consumed Jameson’s full attention.

But the silence clued him in that he’d spaced, so he sat up straighter and looked around. Nine gazes were fixed solely on him. Okay, then. He cleared his throat.

“My turn?”

The instructor, Sarah, nodded encouragingly. She wanted everyone in their group to share as much of their story as they were comfortable with. How did they come to join the company? Jameson blew out a breath and tried to compose his thoughts.

“Uh, my name is Jameson Parker. I applied to Requiem for shits and giggles, and no one was more surprised than me when I made it through.” Jameson grinned, but his joke fell flat. The only response he got was wide eyes. He cleared his throat again and went for honesty. “The truth is, I had no direction or desires, and I like taking care of people, so I took a chance. I was surprised that I got in and that I’ve done pretty well. But I’ve worked for it, too. I think this is important, and I want to help in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Jameson.” Sarah tossed her binder on the desk beside her and then hopped up on the surface and folded her legs underneath her. She leaned forward, braced her elbows on her knees, and stared them all down. “Here’s where I go off-script. Look, each one of you has spent the last year and a half training. You’ve learned Requiem’s history, how to access and navigate the database, and what to look for when you take a case. You’ve learned appropriate medical care, meditation, and grounding techniques. You’ve heard countless operatives speak about their experiences. You’ve even watched them ghostwalk. But all of that means nothing without actually doing it.

“Over the course of the next few months, you’ll put everything you’ve learned into practice. If you thought the past year and a half was hard, just wait.” Sarah paused, made eye contact with each person, and then offered a smile. “I’m not saying this to scare you. I’m really not. And the powers that be would probably prefer it if I were more gentle. But I want you all to be prepared. You can do this. We’ll help you. But you need to be ready.”

Murmurs broke out among the rest of his team. Jameson smiled. He liked Sarah’s no-bullshit approach and was glad she didn’t sugarcoat it. Though, honestly, until Jameson was paired with a ghostwalker, there wasn’t much he could do. Observe? Sure. Help other anchors as they needed it? Absolutely. And he would. He’d be happy to do it. But until he cared for his own ghostwalker, he wouldn’t really be able to experience it for himself.

“Jameson.” Sarah’s voice broke into his thoughts, and he turned his attention to her. “Once they find you a suitable match, they’ll join us. Until then, learn everything you can by watching and helping where you can.”

He grinned. “That’s the plan, ma’am.”

“Good.” Sarah hopped off the desk. “This will be your home group. We’ll start each morning with a team meeting and debrief together at the end of the day. In the meantime there will be lectures and talks. And tomorrow you’ll go on your first group ghostwalk.”

The murmurs turned excited, and Jameson felt it, too, even though he wouldn’t be much use. He hoped he was matched with a compatible ghostwalker soon. Maybe he’d even get lucky and it would be someone with experience. Though ghostwalker/anchor pairs usually worked for the long haul, there were circumstances where a pair broke up. Either because of changes in their lives, or because they found they didn’t work well together. Jameson wouldn’t mind being the rookie in a pair.

“Okay guys. Let’s break for lunch. At one, we’ll reconvene in the lecture hall. Our esteemed leader has some words for us.” Sarah’s eyebrow waggle made everyone laugh. Director Renata Johnson had spoken to them all briefly that morning.

As Jameson followed his teammates out of the small room and toward the elevators, he once again let his mind wander to the adorable older man who had commanded their attention that morning after the director addressed them. Avery Wagner had to be at least half a foot shorter than Jameson’s six feet, but he was well built in that compact, gym-muscle kind of way and impeccably dressed. Jameson had a thing for men in dress slacks and button downs, and Avery wore it very well. The dark blue of his shirt set off his light eyes and dark hair.

But it wasn’t just the way he looked that caught Jameson’s attention. Avery Wagner knew how to command a room. His tone was sure and just this side of haughty. It made Jameson want to see what it would take to ruffle the man’s feathers.

“How serious were you?”

Jameson startled and then looked down at the pixie-like woman who’d sidled up next to him in the cafeteria line. For a moment he searched for her name. He knew she was on his team, that she was a ghostwalker, and her anchor was the long-haired brunette who spoke so softly everyone had to lean forward to hear. It came to him in a flash.

“Hey, Gabriela.” Jameson reached for a tray and a plate. “What’s that now?”

“Back in the class. When you were trying to joke about why you applied at Requiem.” Gabriela scooped up a spoonful of pasta salad and then wrinkled her nose and set it back in the bin. “Everyone was too shocked to ask, so I got drafted.”

Jameson chuckled and finished filling his tray. “So you’re going to report back?”

She shrugged. “Or you could just join us at the table and tell everyone at once.”

Her smirk was a little bit evil and completely endearing. Jameson had no problem being the center of attention. When he reached the end of the line, he took a step to the side and waited for Gabriela to finish. Then he bowed over his food and grinned.

“Lead the way, milady.”

The rest of the team was already seated at one of the round tables on the far side of the cafeteria. When Gabriela and Jameson joined them, the empty seat next to Jameson was a glaring beacon to show his lack of a partner. He wasn’t the only one in the larger class who had yet to be paired with a ghostwalker, but he still felt like the odd man out.

“Jameson’s gonna share while we eat,” Gabriela announced. Then she dug into her burger with all the gusto of a predator.

Jameson shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. But I was serious.” He c****d his head and thought about it. “Okay, after the smartass answer, I was serious. I applied on a whim, because really, what else was I going to do with my life? Once I made it past the initial interviews, I worked hard and studied hard because I wanted to succeed. This thing we do is important. Well, I mean, what ghostwalkers do. Helping spirits find that eternal rest? That’s important. And they can’t do it without anchors.”

“Not everyone sees it that way,” one of the guys said. Jameson was pretty sure his name was Cody. He was a little older than the rest of them, in his late twenties or early thirties. He was a ghostwalker, and if Jameson remembered correctly, he was killed in the line of duty before he came back to life. He’d left his military career to join Requiem instead.

“But they should.” Jameson gestured with his fork, and a piece of lettuce flew off the end and landed in the middle of the table. Everyone laughed.

“There are a hundred different things you could do if you just liked taking care of people, though.” Lucy narrowed her dark eyes, but Jameson didn’t think she was trying to menace him.

“Sure. But a lot of them involve bodily fluids or children—sometimes both.” He gave a mock shudder that earned him a laugh. “I can handle blood just fine, but no thanks on the rest.”

Several people at the table agreed. Jameson couldn’t help but smile. He was glad his team seemed to be made up of like-minded individuals.

“I literally thought I would fail out when I got to training,” Jameson continued. “So many classes, so much to learn. I think it’s easier on the anchors than it is the ghostwalkers. We just have to support the ghostwalker in their decisions and care for them when they come back to life.”

“Which isn’t as easy as you make it sound,” Cody said, his voice hard. Jameson saw the effort it took for him to unclench his jaw. “It takes a certain kind of person to be able to do that.”

“I agree, which is why I think they spend so much time talking to and testing us.” Jameson leaned forward, sort of loving that everyone’s attention was riveted on him. “It’s a long process for a reason. They need to be sure we’ll do what we need to do, and safely for everyone concerned.”

“So you don’t have the gene, then?” This came from Dru, Gabriela’s anchor.

“Nope. They say it makes a difference if you do. But I had to work hard the old-fashioned way.” Jameson caught the stare from Dru and Amelia. They were both anchors, and he knew they had the gene. He held up his hands. “Not that you didn’t have to work hard. But you guys are hardwired to care, so that part’s easier, isn’t it?”

Dru inclined her head as though maybe he was right, so Jameson relaxed and sat back.

“But anyway, like I said, it’s important. I was, like, six when my grandmother died. I was pretty upset because she was awesome. But my mom assured me she’d be at rest and happy. And when I asked her how she knew for sure, she told me there were special people out there who helped anyone who needed it so they could find peace.” Jameson forked up another bite of salad. “That’s always stuck with me, I guess.”

Conversation veered off then as each of the team recounted stories of how they learned what Requiem Inc. actually did. Jameson only listened with half an ear. He focused on his food, and when he finally looked up to join in, his gaze caught on Avery Wagner, who was conversing with a few other men at a table not too far away. Damn, but he was just beautiful. Jameson could look at him for hours.

Gabriela caught him staring and followed his gaze to the table. She leaned sideways and murmured, “I wonder if what they say about him is true?”

“What do they say?” Jameson tried for casual, as though it didn’t matter, but he was dying to learn anything he could about Avery.

“That he doesn’t ghostwalk anymore because he lost his bonded to cancer.”

Jameson’s eyes went wide. No wonder Avery seemed a little standoffish. If he’d suffered that kind of loss, Jameson would be, too. He squinted and studied Avery, as though maybe he could learn the truth if he stared hard enough.

“If it’s true, then you should probably turn your attention elsewhere, hmm?” Gabriela nudged him with a shoulder.

“I’m not interested like that.” It was a flat-out lie.

“Sure you’re not.” Gabriela gave him a knowing look.

Jameson opened his mouth, but she waved him away and addressed to the group.

“Where are y’all hoping to get assigned? Dru and I were talking about trying to get in the Lubbock branch. No snow in winter, and I hear they have fresh-baked cookies every day.”

The team was off, discussing the merits of different branches. But Jameson didn’t engage in the conversation. He couldn’t take his gaze off Avery. Jameson thought he could see the sadness around Avery’s eyes, and no wonder, if he’d had a bond with his anchor.

They talked about it during training. The anchor bond was rare, and there weren’t many pairs who found it. Even if an anchor had the gene, there was no telling if they would connect with their ghostwalker on a physical, mental, and emotional level, especially since fraternization between anchor and ghostwalker pairs was highly discouraged.

Not that Jameson had to worry about that. Without the gene, Jameson would never bond to his ghostwalker that way. And if he was partnered with a female, he didn’t have to worry about the no-fraternization rule either. He was only attracted to men—men like Avery Wagner.

No. He pushed that thought away. Gabriela was right—no use in encouraging that particular fantasy.

The rest of his team finished their lunch, and when they all stood and gathered their trays, Jameson followed suit. He tried to get his mind on the upcoming lecture. It would probably be an important one, since the director of the program was giving it.

But he couldn’t help one last long look at Avery.