The Ghost Host: Episode 2 (The Ghost Host Series) Read online

  The Ghost Host

  Episode 2

  Also by DelSheree Gladden

  Escaping Fate Series

  Escaping Fate

  Soul Stone

  Oracle Lost

  (Coming 2017)

  Eliza Carlisle Mystery Series

  Trouble Magnet

  The Catalyst (novella)

  The Handbook Series

  The Crazy Girl’s Handbook

  The Oblivious Girl’s Handbook

  The Arcane Wielders Series

  Life & Being

  Twin Souls Saga

  Twin Souls

  Shaxoa’s Gift

  Qaletaqa

  The Destroyer Trilogy

  Inquest

  Secret of Betrayal

  Darkening Chaos

  Someone Wicked This Way Comes Series

  Wicked Hunger

  Wicked Power

  Wicked Glory

  Wicked Revenge

  The Aerling Series

  Invisible

  Intangible

  Invincible

  The Date Shark Series

  Date Shark

  Shark Out Of Water

  The Only Shark In The Sea

  Shark In Troubled Waters

  The Ghost Host

  Episode 2

  Book Two of

  The Ghost Host Series

  DelSheree Gladden

  Kindle Edition

  The Ghost Host: Episode 2

  Book Two of

  The Ghost Host Series

  Written by DelSheree Gladden

  Copyright © DelSheree Gladden 2016

  Cover Design DelSheree Gladden

  Published by DelSheree Gladden

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Acknowledgements

  It took me longer than planned to get back to Echo and the Ghost Host crew, but requests and nudges from readers kept me working on this episode between family time, work, and going back to college. Thank you to all my readers for hanging in there with me and keeping me motivated.

  I need to thank my awesome group of beta readers on this book as well for helping me weed out confusing parts and being willing to accept Griffin as a new addition to the series. Thank you so much to Sandra Totz-Fry, Yvonne Ravenwood, Michelle Zeplin, Melissa Eskue Ousley, and Nikki Jeffrey. You ladies rock!

  Contents

  1: Worse

  2: Instincts

  3: The Upper Hand

  4: Old Wounds

  5: Blind

  6: Patient

  7: Commanded

  8: Turning Off

  9: A Risk

  10: The Light

  11: Safe. Alive. Strong.

  12: Coward

  13: A Feather

  14: Bound

  15: Few and Far

  16: Relentless

  17: Famous Last Words

  18: Well Past

  19: Powerless

  20: Plan B

  21: Together

  22: A Little Hint

  23: Forced

  24: A Dream

  25: Darkening

  26: Consequences

  27: Between

  28: All That’s Left

  29: Follow

  30: The Point

  31: An Invitation

  32: The Key

  33: Just the Messenger

  34: In His Care

  35: One to Go

  36: Soundless Screams

  37: No Way of Knowing

  Sneak Peek of Life & Being

  Also by DelSheree

  About the Author

  1: Worse

  (Echo)

  When Agent Morton told me he’d pulled some strings and gotten me into college at Georgia State, I’d wanted to kiss him. Now, I’m leaning more toward punching him in the face. I blink to clear my vision so I can see the pages of my textbook. I had seven to eight classes a day in high school. Four college classes hadn’t seemed like too much of stretch. Morton’s advice that I only take two classes, start out part-time, had earned him a scowl. I’m sure the words “I told you so,” are on his lips every time he sees me hunched over textbooks scribbling out notes and highlighting until nearly the entire page glows fluorescent yellow.

  Pulling my feet up to a crisscross style, I drag my French book off the desk and settle it in my lap. I sigh, wishing that if I’m going to kill myself for this degree I could at least skip all the boring stuff and just study chemistry. Why do I need a foreign language? Or interpersonal communications—which I have to take next semester? Paranormal communications, now that I could master in about a day. How come that can’t be a class?

  My phone, still sitting on the desk, buzzes. I ignore it. I know we’re recording a new show tonight. I don’t need text reminders every ten minutes. I’ll be there. Zara knows that. As busy as school and an internship/consulting job with the FBI has made my life, I can’t miss a show. The Ghost Host episodes keep me sane. After what happened with Archer…. I shiver thinking about the last time I saw him. The last time I would ever see him…and the oily black monsters who nearly killed me in their attempt to destroy what was left of Archer’s soul.

  “What are you doing here?” Morton asks, his voice startling me so badly my book bounces from my lap when I jump.

  I reach for it, a less than pleasant response on my lips, but another hand darts in and picks it up. The smooth skin of the hand says it’s not Morton. Pulling back more quickly than a normal person would, I hesitate half a second before looking up. A young, suit-clad guy looks down at me. His patient, understanding expression creeps me out a little. There’s something about him that looks familiar, but I can’t figure out what.

  “Echo,” Morton says with a hint of amusement in his voice, “meet Griffin.” When he sees me hesitate, he shakes his head. “He’s not here to study you. I didn’t even know you were here. Don’t you have a show tonight?”

  “Yes,” I snap. The sharp look I get from him reins in my irritation. “Sorry, Zara’s been hounding me all day and I have a ton of homework. I came here to get away from her so I could study in peace.”

  Morton cocks one eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything in the face of my scowl.

  “What’s your major?” Griffin asks.

  His question reminds me I never acknowledged his presence, which makes me sigh. Good first impressions aren’t really a strong point of mine. “Sorry,” I say as I extend my hand. He takes it, unfazed by my rudeness. “Thanks for picking up my book.”

  He shrugs and hands it over. “Sorry for scaring you.”

  “You didn’t,” I say. “It’s just…well, never mind.” No need to go into my high level of weirdness attracting entirely too many people who want to see what I can do. Morton keeps them at a minimum, but a few have slipped by when he’s not around and the results haven’t been great.

  Seeking a distraction, I say, “My major is chemistry, but I have to do all these ridiculous classes along with it.”

  “French is a little ridiculous,” Griffin says seriously. “They don’t pronounce half the letters in their words.”

  He keeps such a straight face, I
can’t immediately tell whether or not he’s joking. Not until the corner of his mouth twitches do I finally laugh. Griffin relaxes a little, though I hadn’t noticed until then how tense he was. He gestures at the book in my lap. “If you need help, let me know.”

  I scoff. “I’m sure you have better things to do than help me with my vocabulary.”

  “Actually,” he says, “I’m on vacation for the next few weeks.”

  Glancing at the suit he’s wearing, I can’t help the skepticism which takes up residence on my face. “Must be some boring vacation if you’re going to spend it in a suit hanging out at an FBI field office.”

  Griffin laughs. “I had to run into work this morning and didn’t have time to change before I caught my flight, and if I want to see my dad for more than a few minutes, looks like I’ll be spending vacation hanging around here.”

  “Dad…?” At first, I’m confused, then I realize what he means and look over at Morton in surprise.

  “Oh,” he says, enjoying this, “did I not introduce him properly? Echo, meet Special Agent Griffin Morton. My son.”

  I stare at him for a few seconds before saying, “I thought you only had daughters.”

  Griffin’s expression morphs into one of mock offense. “You’ve been working with her for almost four months and you’ve never mentioned me once? Why do Cas and Brit get all the attention?”

  “You’ve never come up,” he says drily.

  There seems to be some kind of shared joke between them, one they don’t let me in on. Whatever.

  Another buzz sounds, but it’s not my phone this time. Morton glances down at his phone, then takes his keys from his pocket and tosses them to Griffin. “This meeting shouldn’t last more than an hour, but if you’d rather head out, I’ll catch a ride with Agent Gill.” His gaze drops to me. He frowns. When he speaks, it’s not to me, but to his son. “Ask her if she doesn’t mind. I’ll text you when I’m heading home and we can grab dinner.”

  Griffin pockets the keys and nods. A second later, Morton is out the door and on his way to some meeting I’m happy not to be involved in. It’s an odd exchange, but for one reason more than any other. “Ask me what?” Narrowing my eyes, I stare at Griffin. Morton said he wasn’t here to study me.

  For the first time since walking into the office, Griffin loses his easy confidence and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “If I can…watch the show.” He shrugs apologetically, almost as though he’s embarrassed.

  “The…show? The Ghost Host show? You know about that?” I ask, though I’m not sure why I’m surprised. Morton is his dad. It’s not like us working together is a secret or anything…except from my parents.

  Griffin grins. “Being interested in the strange and unusual is kind of a family hobby.”

  That’s…odd. “Uh,” I say slowly.

  “If you’re not comfortable having an outsider there, I get it,” Griffin says. “Just thought I’d take a chance. I’ve been curious since my dad told me about you.”

  Frowning, I’m not sure what to say, so I ask another question. “Does he do that a lot? Talk about me, I mean.”

  For a moment, Griffin hesitates. His gaze focuses on me a little more intently before relaxing. “My sisters were upset when Dad announced he was leaving California so abruptly and wanted to know why. He gave them the basics, which they understood, and still ask about you when they talk to him. He’s not betraying any confidences, but my sisters are beginning to think of you as part of the family.”

  “And…you?” I ask slowly.

  He laughs. “I don’t get to talk to my dad as often as they do because I’m out on assignment a lot, but yeah, you could say that. Sorry if that’s weird.”

  I open my mouth to say it is most definitely weird, but then I say something else entirely. “As far as family goes, I’ll take what I can get.”

  If he thinks it’s a strange thing to say, I can’t tell. Actually, he looks as though he understands, which I don’t really get but won’t complain about. Things with my parents have been tense. They brought my younger twin sisters out to see me once over the summer, and I swear my dad was almost disappointed to realize I’m doing okay. Not great or anything, but all right enough that I’m not running home with my tail between my legs like he expected.

  The entire four days they were here, he asked question after question, demanding to know how I’d gotten into college, how I’m supporting myself with Zara not working and me supposedly working part-time as a data entry clerk for the FBI field office. I know he thinks Morton got me the job out of pity, because there’s no way he actually believes in my ability to see ghosts or communicate with them. He was on edge the whole visit, waiting for my life to implode. To say it was disheartening would be putting it mildly.

  My mom was a little better, and the twins had a blast touring the city and causing trouble. The twins believe me. They know I’m not lying, and have a pretty good idea about what I can do without ever having seen the bad side of my gift firsthand. My mom is being cautiously optimistic. It’s not the same as believing me or supporting my choice to move out here, but it’s better than being forced to attend therapy sessions and take medications I don’t need. She’s ready to swoop in and haul me off to a psychiatric facility at the drop of a hat, though. I have no doubt of that.

  “Hey,” Griffin says as his hand slips onto my shoulder and squeezes. “It’s all right.” He doesn’t elaborate, and for some reason that makes me feel better.

  “If you really want to come,” I say without looking at him quite yet, “it’s fine with me.” I keep to myself that Holden will most likely not be fine with it, and Malachi and Kyran will almost definitely be either pissed or jealous or whatever, but I don’t really care. Homework is only part of why I’ve been less than eager about showing up to shoot the shows since…well, since I screwed everything up.

  Big surprise, right?

  I sigh and start shoving all my homework paraphernalia back into my bag. Griffin moves to help me, wordlessly lending aid. We work together in the minute or two it takes to pack up my scattered belongings, with a strangely familiar synchronicity. He looked familiar when he first walked in. I realize now that was due to having his dad’s eyes and jawline. This is different, more elemental. We don’t get in each other’s way or grab for things at the same time. His nearness is comforting.

  There’s zero sexual attraction between us. It seems weird that I feel one hundred percent accurate saying that about him as well as myself, but I do. He was teasing, kind of, when he said he and his siblings are beginning to think of me as family. That’s exactly what he feels like, though, an older brother I know will have my back.

  I’m used to weird, but this is freaking me out a little. Maybe a lot.

  Normally, I keep these kinds of odd thoughts to myself. Morton insists I share every stupid little thing with him that has to do with my paranormal talents. Some of the everyday stuff too, unfortunately. Maybe it’s just habit, but I don’t keep my thoughts to myself for once.

  “I’m not the only one feeling this, right?”

  He doesn’t ask me what I’m talking about or shy away. Instead, he smiles and hands me my backpack. “No, you’re not.”

  “Care to explain what it is?” I ask with a slight edge to my voice.

  “I’m not like Malachi, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Honest relief sweeps through me, because…I really don’t need that kind of complication right now. Malachi is bound to me, my compliment in all things freaky and bizarre, required to protect me from all the dark and scary beasties trying to suck away my soul and destroy the world. He’s also in, well, not love with me, but heavy like, I guess. Or he was. I don’t even know anymore. Maybe he still would be if I hadn’t accidentally used some unknown power to command him to have sex with me after nearly dying and completely freaking out when I woke up. Oh yeah, then I ran off like a lunatic and inadvertently made all my friends blame him for taking my virginity when I was at my weakest.
Even though I’ve tried to explain to him and everyone else what really happened—or at least my best guess—yeah, things are still a mess.

  Before I realize he’s moved, Griffin pulls me in for a hug and my head falls against his chest. “It’s not as bad as you think,” he says quietly.

  I laugh, but it’s not a happy sound. “No,” I say, “it’s usually worse than I think.”

  2: Instincts

  (Griffin)

  I pull into the apartment complex parking lot, two spaces down from Echo, and debate the wisdom of crashing her show. It’s true Dad talks about Echo a lot. Hard to avoid when he picked up and left California so abruptly. My sisters know about the ghosts, and while Dad doesn’t give them detailed reports about his work with Echo, they understand her importance to him and have grown to care about her wellbeing.

  With me, it’s a little different. My security clearance is higher than my sisters’, for one. I tend to float around the country, consulting on cases when needed, rather than being stationed at a particular office like Dad. My job makes it reasonable for him to ask for my input on cases now and again, which he did with Echo. I’m well aware of the case-related aspects of her life and problems thanks to acting as a consultant. The files Dad sent to me this time, which I skimmed on the flight to Georgia, were more centered on the people in Echo’s life than her role at the FBI. I don’t know every detail of her personal life, yet, but I know enough to guess at my reception among her friends.

  Stepping out of her car, Echo glances over at me and gestures for me to hurry up. It’s too late to back out now. Resigning myself to the shit storm I’m about to walk into, I step out of the car and start toward her. Echo waits on the sidewalk. She looks about as eager as I feel to face her friends. I don’t really need to see her expression to know that, though. My fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to calm her, but I’m worried Malachi or Kyran might be able to see her from a window and keep my hands to myself. Her anxiety is putting me on edge every second we stand here.