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Shake Your Boo Thang

Page 52

by Chloe Archer

If there is a silver lining that comes with being possessed, it is this: You cannot be possessed by more than one entity at a time.

Unfortunately, there are some exceptions.

There have been a handful of recorded instances in which a more powerful entity has usurped control of a host, forcibly ejecting the lesser spirit and then possessing the person themselves. You want to avoid this at all costs. An entity strong enough to do this is unlikely to surrender its host without consequences to said host.

If you encounter someone to whom this has happened, make sure to use all of the exorcism tools at your disposal. What you are dealing with is no longer a routine possession. You have entered a Spiritual Critical Threat Level. If the exorcism fails, say your prayers and prepare for the worst. Your time among the living may be up.

—ExorSquad Employee Safety Manual and Operational Guidelines (Revised Edition)

Callum

“What the hell are you doing?”

Beau turns on a strobe light and pulls up a disco hits playlist on his phone, which starts playing through the spin studio’s music system.

“I’m just setting the mood for our friends. They might be more inclined to join us and want to communicate if we make the atmosphere inviting. Too bad I don’t have any disco-appropriate attire for the occasion,” he laments.

Then he points at himself with a huge smile. “But I did wear my best pink shirt and one of my favorite bow ties. I call it The Dolly in homage to an all-time great and one of my personal heroes.”

The bright pink bow tie is encrusted with rhinestones that sparkle in the light.

His suspenders also match the bow tie.

It’s definitely a sight to behold.

“My Aunt Doreen, she’s an amazing drag queen, made these for me,” he explains with obvious pride. “Aren’t they wonderful? I hope our ghostly friends can appreciate them.”

We’d gone back to his B&B after our time in the archives and had afternoon tea with the owner, the sweet elderly lady entertaining us with some of her guests over the years. After, Beau had insisted on changing his outfit in preparation for tonight. I can only wonder what his disco-themed attire might have looked like.

Earth, Wind, and Fire’s “Boogie Wonderland” starts playing, and Beau moves to the beat, doing what I’m guessing is his version of The Hustle. He’s actually a pretty good dancer, better than my clumsy arse, but the goofy grin on his face makes it hard to take him seriously right now.

I have to fight back a laugh. He’s fucking adorable.

Beau Montgomery might be the most unusual person I’ve ever met. He’s a man full of folksy charm and old-fashioned manners all wrapped up in rather eccentric clothing choices. We’re polar opposites in many ways, yet I find myself unable to look away from him, wanting to see what he’s going to do or say next. His level of interest in the supernatural makes more sense now that I’ve gotten to know his abilities, but it’s his optimistic outlook and kind-hearted approach that amazes me. If I’d been born with this ability, I’m sure I would have been bitter and resentful as fuck, just like I was when I first realized I had gained it. But he treats the situation like the gift his mother told him it is.

We work surprisingly well together as investigative partners, which I wasn’t expecting. He’s sharp and intuitive, and he often thinks of things that don’t occur to me, partly due to his more expansive knowledge of spirits and their behavior patterns. But we have found a natural give-and-take that works and reminds me a lot of the dynamic Liz and I shared when we were DI partners.

With Beau, however, there’s an added dimension. I want to be more than just work partners with him.

The more time I spend with him, the harder it gets for me to keep my hands off him—and to stop my heart from getting too attached. I may try to convince myself I don’t care, but I wouldn’t have planned that London Eye capsule experience for just anyone. Very few men have inspired romantic inclinations in me, but Beau somehow manages to make me want things I’m not used to. Like wanting to make him happy, to see him smile. To have him call me darlin’ and sugar.

Endearments have never been my thing, and yet they feel right with Beau.

Even I’m not pigheaded enough not to recognize that I’m starting to develop feelings for the man I can’t stop thinking about.

On one level, the idea of us having a serious long-distance relationship is ridiculous. Despite our mutual attraction, we still barely know each other. But in the short time I’ve spent with him, I’ve felt more alive and hopeful than I have in five years. Some of it’s the investigation, sure, but a lot of it is simply being with Beau. The man exudes a captivating charm and a genuine kindness I know to be quite rare in this world. His attitude toward life and death have made me start to appreciate what I have, and focus on what I can still make happen, rather than fixating on the past and what I’ve lost. The latter was a painful kind of limbo I existed in for years, but since meeting him it’s as if I’m finally breaking out of that in a big way. I won’t lie, the fact that he also understands what happened to me and how I see the world differently now is huge. Now I finally have someone I can talk to about these things and not have to censor myself because I fear his reaction. But it’s more than that too.

At first, I wanted to tell myself that was the reason I was glomming onto him, because he felt like a fellow brother in arms who’d seen the same battles that I had. While I won’t deny this whole supernatural business is a key point of connection between us, it’s not all there is either.

As we discovered last night, our sexual chemistry is not surface level or just a blip on the radar. Scratching that itch once wasn’t enough. Now I want more and more of him. But some scared part of me whispers that I need to shield myself from going any deeper with him, and I don’t know if I should listen to it or throw caution to the wind.

As for Beau, he talks about us like we’re some kind of destiny, and it’s getting harder and harder for me to fight that sentiment. It’s also becoming acutely painful to envision him gone and me alone once more.

Can I really give my heart to a man who appeared so suddenly and mysteriously in my life and who’s probably going to be leaving from it just as abruptly?

Liz’s words echo in my mind. Perhaps he’ll want to keep things going even after he leaves. The distance between here and his home is daunting. It’s a fucking ocean, for Christ’s sake. That’s nothing to write off. But I’ve already half convinced myself we might be able to make that work if we’re both truly invested in this.

Am I being utterly delusional?