Most meant well. They’d warn him away from places. Haunted, and they knew a kid who knew a guy who was a cousin of the person who disappeared. They were genuine, mostly. Some wanted to see if he’d finally show how much he despised believers. A couple had been dicks, but not many.
All of them, down to the last, got straight to the fucking point.
So why hadn’t Antonio? Why was the dude wandering down the road, watching Bo like he might bite, side-stepping in a way that reminded him of Everil.
Bo, sucker to the last damn minute, glanced back at him.
“What’s in there, then? I’m listening,” Bo said. Antonio drew a breath, then paused at Bo’s smile, there and gone. “Seriously. I’m listening, so long as it’s not ‘a family of raccoons.’ ”
He hated to lie. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t.
“No, it’s–” Antonio sighed, reaching to grab the pendant that hung from a leather cord around his neck. Just an ugly hunk of metal from the look of it. “Shit. You’re not gonna believe me.”
“I mean, yeah. Probably not, dude. If it starts with ‘I see dead people,’ deal’s off.”
“Not ghosts,” Antonio sounded tired. Bo sympathized. “Not ghosts. I see shit. Know you don’t believe in that either. That’s fine. But I’ve seen what lives in that house. It’s not some pretty, sad, dead dude, okay? Thoughfuck, I wouldn’t trust one of those either. But this is– It’s not something that was ever human. Eat you alive if you let it.”
Something that Bo would’ve brushed off any other time, yeah. Total bullshit. This time around, it gave him pause, frowning at Antonio at the mention of a pretty, sad dude.Eat you alive.Everil’d said almost the same thing.
Bo, ever the asshole, asked, “What is it?”
“Doesn’t matter what you call it. Matters that things like that, they don’t fuck around. Just– Christ, man. Take my word on this one. I’ve seen it.”
Bo winced, rubbing the back of his neck. He slowed to a halt, turning to watch Antonio. Antonio stopped, too, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet when Bo didn’t start back up. Antsy fucker.
“I’m not going to argue with you about what you’ve seen. I don’t dunk on psychics, man.” Hereallydidn’t like lying. He liked the idea of gaslighting the ever-loving fuck out of the man even less. “I’m not going to risk someone’s livelihood for a video, you know?”
“I’m a mechanic.” Antonio let go of his necklace, showing off a hand stained with oil and grease, the kind that’d probably only come out with scouring and years of soft work. “I didn’t drive two hours to read your palm.”
Bo hated the sincere ones.Fuck.
“Twohours? How long did it take for you to figure it out? It’s not even noon.”
“Like I said, it’simportant,“ Antonio insisted once more. “Look, when I was a kid, I watched your channel. Thought you were like me. Someone else who sawthem. Always made it feel a little less fucked up.”
Bo felt the blood drain from his face as his apologetic half-smile slipped. He may have said something soft and small, something like, “oh.” Maybe he only thought it.
“And I know– Look, the shit you went through was messed up. Me, I had different problems.” Antonio lowered his voice, intense and on edge in equal measure. “I’m telling you, that placeisn’t safe.”
God, Bo was tempted to just step away, turn tail and run back to the house. Maybe Everil would tolerate him leaning close, just for a second. The distance pulled at him, an ache still new and tender, like scar tissue in the sun for the first time. It’d felt like comfort and safety and validation until Everil told him he wanted to break the bond.
Maybe if he played nice, he’d stop having the fun and exciting experience of being confronted head-on with his past for the second time in a single morning. Only what? A few hours since he’d walked in the door?
The world stayed in place this time, though he couldn’t quite crush down the cold twist in his stomach. This was a fan talking about his history,theirhistory. Bo knew how to deal with something like that.
“Fuck.” Bo sighed the word. “I’m– They screwed you over too. I’m genuinely sorry for that. For the part I played in it, even if I didn’t know. I can’t imagine what you must’ve felt when I found what I did. But, uhm…”
Bo glanced once more over his shoulder, then back to Antonio. Anxious, intent Antonio, genuine concern and nervous agitation in every inch of him. It’d be intimidating if it weren’t for the fact he pointedly didn’t get closer to Bo and kept his hands away.
“I’ve been in the house, man. Don’t worry about me. Okay?”
Antonio froze, mid-bounce, his jaw set and tense. Bo stilled as well, eyeing him warily as quiet lingered for a long moment.
“You didn’t see what you thought you saw,” Antonio said, low and fierce.
“Didn’t say what I saw.” The words came out a little too hard.
“You saw a fae. And I’ll bet it made itself look real damned pretty.” Antonio’s hand returned, white-knuckled, to his pendant. “None of it’s real. They can show you things; take you places. But it’s no different than your parents. Just a shine on something ugly. People, we’re just a game to them. And eventually, theyalwaysget tired of playing.”
