Shadow Kiss: Ghostly Shadows

  Shadow Kiss

  Ghostly Shadows

  Alyssa Rose Ivy

  Copyright © 2020 by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Gabriella

  2. Rexton

  3. Gabriella

  4. Rexton

  5. Gabriella

  6. Gabriella

  7. Rexton

  8. Gabriella

  9. Rexton

  Thank You

  Afterward

  10. Wolf Born Preview

  Prologue

  I had the same dream again. The one where Rexton had me up against the wall with my hands pinned above my head. His hard body pressed into me as his lips devoured mine. I should have wanted to stop the kiss, but I didn’t. I loved the way his lips felt. I loved the taste of his tongue in my mouth. I liked the feel of the evidence of his arousal pressed against me. I liked being completely at his mercy. Completely under his control. And that last part… That last detail was why the dream could never be more than a dream. I, Gabriella Palmer, never wanted to be controlled by anyone, let alone a sexy as sin incubus.

  Gabriella

  You would think after twenty-two years I would have been used to talking to ghosts. But I wasn’t. It’s not that it came as a shock to me that I could see them, or that we could converse. The surprise was long gone, but there was still something strange about it. Mostly it was the knowledge that it just wasn’t right. Wasn’t normal. Kind of like how perfectly good bread tastes stale once you notice you are a few days past the sell by date. The human mind is very good at rationalizing the irrational, but that doesn’t mean everything is smoothed over.

  “So… what do you want to talk about?” Stacy leaned back on her elbows. She was wearing the simple white and blue dress again. The only dress she ever wore.

  I used the wheel on my mouse to scroll down the document I was editing. “I’m working. I don’t have time to talk.”

  “There’s no one here.” She stretched her arms wide. She needed to have pointed out that I was the only living person in the antique shop I worked in—Lost & Found. Yes, I was the only one with a pulse. Stacy had been dead for years, but that didn’t make her any less talkative when it came to me. It meant she was more talkative because I was the only one who could listen.

  “I mean my school work. I do want to graduate eventually.”

  “You already graduated.”

  “With my master’s degree.” It wasn’t the first time we were having this conversation. We’d had it many times since I’d enrolled in the graduate history program.

  “Who needs a master’s degree?” She ran her hands over the intricate embroidered hem of her dress. I never worked up the nerve to ask her if the dress was the article of clothing she’d died in. Some questions seemed rude even when dealing with a ghost.

  “In my day, women didn’t even bother with school. We settled—”

  “Yes, I know. And this is not your day. Thankfully. And I like to stay educated.”

  “Still, you can take a break. A break won’t hurt anything.”

  “Fine.” I minimized the window and closed my book. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I already asked you what you wanted to talk about.”

  “There’s nothing specifically you want to discuss?” I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice, but I was overtired from an evening spent studying.

  “Well, you know I always love to talk about boys.” She winked, only she couldn’t do it with one eye, so it was more like blinking.

  “I am well aware.”

  “So, let’s talk about boys.” She sat up and turned so she was looking directly at me.

  “Ronny can’t leave the building.” I knew which boy she wanted to hear about. The ghost who had decided he wanted to be my unofficial roommate. She’d never met him, but as he had only died a few years before I was able to find plenty of pictures online for her to look at. Admittedly, he hadn’t been bad looking in life, but like most ghosts I’d come across, he was tied to one place, the place where he’d died.

  “You haven’t really tried too hard. Not the way you’ve tried with me. There could still be a chance.”

  “Trust me. We’ve tried.” That was one of the most frustrating things about being able to communicate with ghosts. They were experts in the whole ‘give them a hand and they want your whole arm’ thing. Most of them were also particularly bad at taking no for an answer. I guess they had little left to lose.

  “Okay then. How about we talk about your guy?”

  “I don’t have a guy.” I glanced at the door, willing it to open. I needed an escape from this conversation.

  “Oh yeah? What about the hottie from the ball?”

  “Who?” I, of course, knew exactly whom she was talking about. Rexton. The incubus who’d set my heart and body on fire when I met him at a supernatural ball a few months back. We’d only spent a few hours together, yet no matter how much time passed, I still couldn’t get him out of my mind.

  “Come on. Have you heard from Rexton?” She pressed.

  Even the sound of his name messed with me, bringing back memories and images from the few hours we’d shared. The taste of his tongue, his mouth. The feel of his arms around me. My eyes closed without me consciously realizing it.

  “Ohhh, someone's got it bad,” Stacy teased.

  That was all I needed to snap out of it. I opened my eyes. “I do not. I had something in my eye.”

  “You are such a bad liar.”

  “I haven’t heard from him. You happy?”

  “Of course I’m not happy. Why would that make me happy? I want you to have an exciting love life so I can live vicariously through you.”

  “I’m glad you care so much about my happiness and well-being.”

  “Well, that too.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  “So, he hasn’t called? Stopped by again?” She pressed a palm down on the desk and leaned in.

  “You really think I would have kept that from you?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do. I think you would have. You like to have your secrets.”

  “I wouldn’t have kept it from you because who else could I have told?” It wasn’t like I had lots of friends, especially not ones I could talk to about a supernatural party.

  “Ronny.”

  I sighed. “Why would I tell Ronny instead of you?”

  “Because he’s there. I’m here. I’m only your work friend.”

  “Well, we’ve been friends longer.” Was this really what my life had come to? Reassuring a ghost that I had a closer friendship with her than another ghost?

  “That’s true. We have been.”

  She needed more. I’d give it to her so she’d stop pouting. “And we’re closer. Okay? You don’t have to worry. I promise if I hear from Rexton, I’ll tell you before Ronny.”

  “What about before anyone else?”

  “Who else would I tell? Haven’t we been through this already?”

  “Just promise me.” Stacy’s nearly translucent blue eyes locked on mine. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” It wasn’t a hard promise to make. I couldn’t exactly tell my classmates that I was crushing on an incubus.

  “Good.” She smiled. “So why don’t you call him?”

  “Call him?” Was she crazy? Ev
en if I was dying to talk to him. I told myself it was because he had revealed to me that he could also converse with ghosts. However, I knew that rationale was secondary to the way he made me feel. “Aren’t you the old-fashioned one?” I asked.

  “It’s modern times now. Don’t you always talk to me about women’s power and all that?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No but about it,” she interrupted. “Call him.”

  “I would if I could.”

  “Oh, come on.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a phony.”

  “I don’t have his number.”

  “I bet I know someone who does…” She twirled some of her blond hair around her finger. “A certain fashionable lady who works here.”

  “You mean who I work for.” She was talking about my boss, Harriet, who I’d just found out was a succubus. After years of carefully hiding—tying to hide—my gift, or curse, depending on how you looked at it, I’d found out she was even less normal than I was.

  “She would know how to reach him. You merely need to ask.”

  “No way,” I shook my head. “I’m not doing it.”

  “Then I will.”

  “She can’t hear you or see you.” For once I was grateful to be the only one who could talk to this ghost.

  “I have other ways.” Stacy got that mischievous smile, and I knew I was in trouble.

  “Fine, I’ll ask. Next time I see her.”

  “Was that so hard?” Stacy pursed her lips. “Sometimes I can’t understand you.”

  “For someone who wants to be my best friend, you sure are pushy.”

  “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

  “Really? You’re going to use that line on me?”

  “What? Isn’t that proverb still in use? And even if it is no longer current, you know exactly what I mean.”

  “Still, you can’t use it to discuss friendship.”

  “Is there a rule against that? Because if there is, no one has told me about it at all.”

  “And you know I can’t have many other friends, it’s not like you are competing with anyone.” Hiding my little quirk was nearly impossible once I got close to someone, and telling someone about it never went well. I learned that the hard way over and over again.

  “Tell me about the ball again.” She got that dreamy look in her eyes.

  I accepted her need to live through me vicariously, but that didn’t mean I liked it. “I’ve told you half a dozen times already.”

  “So? Is there a limit to how many times you can recount the romantic evening?”

  “I’m beginning to think I overplayed it a bit.” I thought back on the evening. I’d spent most it trying to help a ghost, pretty much the story of my life. When possible, I pretended I couldn’t see them, but sometimes I slipped up. Once you slipped up, there was no going back.

  “You didn’t. Keep talking.” She gestured with her hand.

  I knew she didn’t care about the crazy creatures, the music, the lighting. There was only one thing she cared about. Romance. “There was dancing, and kissing.”

  “Oh yes. The kissing. Let’s focus on that,” she said in a dreamy voice.

  “There is nothing more to say. We kissed.” By kissed I meant he ruined me for all other men. His taste, his feel. Everything about him was pure sex appeal.

  “A kiss is never just a kiss.”

  She had that right.

  The bell jingled above the door, and we both turned to watch a stunning woman in her sixties walk in atop a pair of golden 3-inch stilettos. “Good afternoon, Gabriella.”

  “Hi, Harriet,” I greeted my boss, rising to my feet out of habit even though she certainly didn’t require me to stand when she entered the room.

  “Were you gabbing about Rexton with your ghost friend again?” Her perfectly painted red lips quirked into a smile.

  “Wait, what?” Maybe the lack of sleep was catching up to me. Or not. The smile on her face said it all. “You know about that?” Horror and embarrassment mixed with just a little bit of relief washed over me.

  “Of course I do.” She stopped in front of the counter. “I know about everything. Didn’t Rexton tell you?”

  Considering I hadn’t talked to him in months, no. No, he hadn’t. I mean he’d explained Harriet was the reason he even knew who I was, but the part of her statement that stuck with me had everything to do with his name rather than the ghost part.

  “What’s her name?” Harriet looked in the general direction of Stacy. “It’s a girl, right? I can’t imagine you’d talk that way to a man, but maybe I’m wrong.”

  “Stacy. Her name is Stacy.” I wasn’t sure why I was so forthcoming. Maybe it was because I didn’t think I had much to lose.

  “Oh my, this is so exciting.” Stacy clapped her hands. “Tell her I said hi.”

  I delivered the message. “She says hello.”

  “Is she always here?” Harriet asked. “Oh, and do tell her I said hello back.”

  “She can hear you.” I didn’t particularly enjoy being the go-between for these two, but I wasn’t sure what other choice I had. “She’s always here.”

  “Interesting. And is she the only one?” Harriet set her sequined bag down on the counter. She was always dressed to the nines. In the beginning I chalked it up to being eccentric. Now I wondered if it had to do with luring people in.

  “The only one who is tied to this store. There are others tied to items, but when the items are sold—”

  “They go.” Harriet cut me off. “Fascinating.”

  “Sometimes. Depends on the ghost.” I was probably admitting too much, but it felt freeing to finally talk about things a bit more. Still, I didn’t understand why she’d chosen that day to ask questions.

  “I wouldn’t think you’d like working here then.”

  “Oh. I get used to it.” And it was fun sometimes.

  “But other jobs would bring you into contact with fewer ghosts.”

  “I guess I'm a glutton for punishment. Besides, until recently, I didn’t know that ghosts could be dangerous to me.”

  “Yes, I heard Rexton filled you in.” Harriet opened her purse and pulled out a gold chain. She clasped it around her neck.

  “Rexton.” Stacy scooted to the edge of the counter. “Use the opening. Get his number.”

  “Uh, do you know Rexton well?” I wasn’t diving right into asking for a number.

  “I’ve known him for years.” Harriet didn’t elaborate any further.

  The phone rang, and I immediately picked it up, grateful for the excuse to end the conversation. I couldn’t believe I was letting a ghost push me into getting a guy’s number.

  Rexton

  Meeting Gabriella had been shitty timing, but what can you do? When life throws a sexy as hell ghost whisperer at you, you don’t complain about the timing. Even if it truly sucked.

  I was just busy. Far too busy to be distracted. And damn, she was distracting. Months later and I still couldn’t get the feel of her skin out of my head. The swell of her breasts. The way she moaned when my tongue entered her mouth. Even allowing myself a few seconds with those thoughts made me hard as a rock and ready to run over to see her. I was losing my battle. I had stayed away as long as necessary, but that didn’t mean I could forget about her. After one too many tortuous nights I had to give in.

  The bell jingled as I pushed open the door to Lost & Found. I’d been to the antique store on more than a few occasions, but this trip was for a whole different purpose.

  “Oh, Rexton.” Harriet sat on the front counter. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Were you?” I looked around, Harriet was sitting alone at the counter. Well, not fully alone. There was a ghost sitting there, a young female ghost looking at me like I was Santa Claus. But last time I checked Harriet couldn’t talk to ghosts. She couldn’t see them.

  “Yes.” She hopped off the counter.

  “Talking to yourself now?”

  Harriet grinned. “S
he’s in the back. We had a customer call looking for a chess set. You can find her in the toys and games section.”

  “Who says I'm here to see Gabriella?”

  The ghost laughed. “Who else would you be here to see?”

  I didn’t respond. It was better to ignore a ghost. You had a better chance of getting them to leave you alone.

  “Well, whether you are here to see her or not, I know she'd love to see you.” Harriet wrapped her hand around her neck. “Absolutely love to see you.”

  “Harriet!” The ghost gasped. “You are awful.”

  I bit back a smile. She was awful. But she was just being herself. Succubi weren’t known for being particularly sweet. “I’ll go find her then.” I headed to the back of the store.

  I didn’t know where the toys and games section was, but I did know Gabriella’s scent. It was sweet and intoxicating, and just a little bit naughty. If I had my way, that naughty side would get far more of a chance to shine.

  It didn’t take long to find her. There she was down on her knees searching through boxes. I tried not to let my mind go to other things she could be doing on her knees. My cool and collected image would be shattered quickly. I let myself enjoy watching her for a few moments before I knew I was crossing the socially acceptable point. “Need any help?”

  She visibly jumped at the sound of my voice and slowly turned around.

  I held out my hand, and she took it, moving to her feet. “Uh, hey. What are you doing here?”

  “I did tell you you’d see me again.” I held onto to her hand long after she stood up. It felt nice in my hand. Too nice.

  “Yes. But I didn’t expect you here. In the store.” She pulled her hand out of mine.

  “Oh. You wanted me to visit you at home?” I teased.

  “No.” A blush rose to her cheeks. It was so damn adorable.

  “You sure that’s not it?”