Came Back Haunted (Experiment in Terror #10) - Karina Halle Page 0,110

feeling a bit on edge, not knowing if Samantha was going to come back at any moment. But even I could feel that the energy I was giving off was different now. I wasn’t so needy, so desperate. I made peace with my feelings the best I could.

And Dr. Leivo said that at any time we can have sex and I can invite him to come inside and possess me and that it will work, no blood play needed anymore. We haven’t tried yet, of course, but it’s nice to know it’s there on standby.

The doctor also told me that when we finally go back to see Maximus, that I should give her a call.

That’s something I need to discuss with Dex, and if I’ve learned anything from our last therapy session (aside from how to get willfully possessed by your husband), it’s that I need to share with him more. I need to share with everyone. Be as honest and open and truthful as possible, even if it hurts.

And so, while we’re in the Highlander on Christmas Eve, driving down the I-5 toward Portland in the dark, as the freezing rain falls outside, Fat Rabbit napping in the backseat, I turn to Dex and say, “Dr. Leivo wants to join us on our Maximus expedition.”

His brows go to his hairline as he steals a glance at me. “What?”

“She wants to come with us.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a witch.”

“And?”

Oh, so Dex is all blasé about witches all of a sudden.

“Because Samantha is a witch,” I repeat. “Look, we don’t even know if Ada is going to agree to any of this, but if she does, the most she can do is get Max out.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And what if Samantha comes along for a ride? We’ve been warned by everyone that’s the risk when you open the Veil. That things hitch rides. That opening a spot weakens it, draws attention to it. We can’t assume that this is going to be easy.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Easy? Kiddo, nothing with us is ever easy.”

“So, do you mind if she comes along?”

He loosens his grip on the steering wheel. “If you think it will help.”

“She knows Samantha. Or she did, before she died. On a personal level. She can help us with her. Banish her, do whatever it is she needs to do.”

“Do you have faith in her?”

I don’t even have to think about it because I’ve been mulling it over the last few days. “Complete faith. She has our back. And she’s been inside my head. She knows me inside and out.”

“I’ve also been inside your head. Your body, too.”

“And you know me more than anyone should, Dex. I mean, that was always true of you, but now you know what it feels like when I fucking sneeze.”

He breaks into a grin. “I know. Who would have thought that people experience sneezes differently? And fuck, I wish you let me get you off just once, just so I could see how that feels like for you.”

“Hey, some things are meant to be sacred,” I tell him, smacking him on the arm. “Concentrate on your own orgasms.”

“Oh. I do.”

To be honest, I’m a little nervous about tonight. I know that seems silly, after all I’ve gone through in the last six weeks, but Ada and my father mean so much to me, that I’m determined to make things right.

I’m determined to, once and for all, sit down with them and fill them in.

On everything.

Absolutely everything.

And they can share or they can stay quiet, but I can’t afford to keep them out anymore. They’re my family, my blood, and they deserve more than that.

But that doesn’t stop me from being anxious, and as we pull onto the familiar suburban street I grew up on, each house decorated with Christmas lights, some front yards filled with inflatable snowmen and Santa displays, the anxiety kicks into high gear.

“Do you have any Ativan?” I ask Dex, as he parks the car out front. The house looks cheery enough, and there’s a bit of relief in seeing the Christmas lights out across the front, which means my dad’s been feeling well enough to put them up.

“Do you really need any?” he asks me, inspecting my face. “I think you’re going to be okay.”

“You’re holding out on me,” I tell him.

“Come on,” he says, opening his door. “We can at least get you drunk.”

That’s true.

I might as well, too. Lana got me a referral to a psychiatrist, Dr. Chan, apparently

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