thoughts about tonight, and about going back into this world in general, my first instinct was to get defensive. That I needed to, wanted to do this. I know, it surprised me too. I’m starting to think that even through the fear, some part of me feels strangely at home.
Either that or I’m being compelled by this fucking house, which isn’t much of a stretch either. Guess we’ll find out.
I give Dex a quick smile. “I’m fine. I promise. A little scared, but that’s normal.”
“It’s more than normal,” he says, reaching across and holding my hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it, his touch calming. “And the moment you feel it’s too much, then we stop. Okay?”
I nod, grateful for the easy out, if needed. “How about you? Are you scared?”
He leans over me to peer up at the house, eyes searching through the blurry glass. “Not yet,” he says after a moment. “Come on. I think I see Edgar Allan Fuck over there.”
I open the door and get out of the car, grabbing my crossbody purse and putting it on, twisting it forward. I have no idea what to expect, but Dex and I started cramming things in there that we might possibly need before we left. Flashlights, headlamps, extra batteries, a wireless mic, a spare, old iPhone (we’ve learned our lesson many times before), EMF meter, and an EVP recorder. To be honest, I was surprised when he pulled the recorder out of a storage box. I never expected to see the thing again, and yet the moment he handed it to me, it felt like I’d only used it just the other day.
Dex joins me by my side, locking the car with a loud beep that makes me jump (I’m on edge already), a camera bag slung over his shoulder.
Atlas Poe is standing at the base of the stairs, staring at us. I can’t really make out his features in the dark, but it’s enough to creep me out.
Dex takes my hand for a moment, giving it an encouraging squeeze, before pulling his newsboy cap down on his brow and walking toward Atlas.
I follow, my Chucks slapping against the rain on the pavement as I hurry along.
“You’re filming this?” Atlas asks as we approach. He’s not even under the shelter of the porch, just standing out in the rain and getting wet.
“Is that a problem?” Dex asks, placing a protective hand on the camera bag.
“Not at all,” he says. “Provided you’ll let me review what you’ve shot first.”
Dex stiffens, looks over his shoulder at me, brows raised. I know he’s not happy with that, but he also didn’t run this by Atlas either. He’s definitely one of those “better to ask for forgiveness than seek permission” kind of people.
I shrug. “Can we finish talking out of the rain?” I move past them and up the steps to the porch. My eyes focus on the door handle for a moment and I feel that strong, strange pull again. I have to force myself to look away, to put my back to the house while Dex and Atlas continue their dick-measuring contest or whatever the hell they’re doing staring each other down.
Finally, Dex finishes his glaring and walks up the stairs, stopping by my side.
“So, let me guess, you want to give us another tour?” he asks mildly.
Atlas remains where he is. “No. Just came here to unlock the door for you.”
I exchange a wary glance with Dex before looking back to him. “So that’s it? What about the messages?”
“I told you last time, there are no messages.”
“But your father said…”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. I feel a strange sense of relief at seeing Atlas bothered. “As I said last time,” he repeats, voice tired, “he doesn’t know what to believe.”
“So why the money?” Dex asks.
“Love?” he suggests, glancing at us warily. “He’s got a lot of money, always has. Always paid his way through this and that. He loved my mother to the point of…obsession. It makes sense he would feel this way after her death. He wants you to communicate with her. About anything. He lacks clarity right now. Hence why I’m here.”
He’s not the only one in that family who lacks clarity, I think.
“But you said it yourself last time, that you want us to give her a push through the Veil,” I tell him.
“Well, that was on Samhain, wasn’t it?” Atlas says. “You dicked around and didn’t