Free I'd Rather Not Be Dead by Andrea Brokaw Page B

hasn't made
any signs he's going to get out of the chair anytime soon.
    “Yeah. Just exhausted. Busting a
few dozen car windows will do that, I guess.” When you get down to
it, it's amazing I didn't sleep for at least three days after
pulling something like that.
    “That was you?” A complete lack
of surprise accompanies the question.
    “People noticed, huh?”
    “You could say that.” Cooper
Finnegan gives me a tiny smile. “Or you could say the police have
roped the area off and the whole town's going mad trying to figure
out what happened.”
    “Anyone sending for an
exorcist?” It would be very bad if someone started with that at the
club. I don't know what would happen to Fray, but I hate knowing it
would be my fault. I force myself to stand up, then have to wait a
while for my knees to steady.
    “Nah. Not yet anyway.” Still
sitting in the chair, Cooper Finnegan watches me closely. “You with
Fray when it happened?”
    Nodding makes my vision swim.
“Yeah. I... I got mad at him and all the cars near me started to
shake. Then all the windows shattered.”
    Cooper Finnegan doesn't seem at
all shocked I would be responsible for such a thing. He could at
least pretend to be. Or act impressed by my awesome power. He
doesn't need to be this blasé about it all. He doesn't have to sit
there so silently.
    “So you collect teddy bears?” I
ask him.
    One side of his mouth slides up,
but his eyes seem sad. “Mom does.”
    “I'm sorry. I never knew your
mother had mental problems.” The dig was supposed to be teasing but
the smiling half of his mouth collapses and his breathing catches.
Shit. His mom really is crazy? Explains a lot...
    “She just went a little weird
during the divorce,” he says softly. He clears his throat and
stands in a rush. “We'd better get going before someone sends the
cops to find me.”
    “We?” I fold my arms.
    He sighs, his shoulders
slumping. “You hate football so much you'd rather sit here waiting
for The Spirit to come back than come with me?”
    “I don't hate football,” I
mutter to the floor. “I hate high school football.”
    “Whatever.” He goes into the
foyer, sits on a bench, and starts to put on a pair of work boots.
“Why's The Spirit chasing you anyway? It bothers the others
occasionally, but nowhere near this often.”
    “Dunno.” I lean against the
archway and watch him tie his laces. He's very particular about it,
making each loop exactly the same length. “Fray doesn't think it
leaves me alone when I'm with you because you're a medium
though.”
    “Oh?” He stands and grabs his
letterman's jacket. “And why does the ever-wise Fray think it
happens?”
    Suddenly nervous, I look away.
“He thinks you're my Place of Power.”
    “What?”
    “Fray thinks I'm haunting
you.”
    I expect him to laugh. Or to
demand to know why I'd do that. His silence confuses me. His face
is very still, calm but shaken.
    “What?” I ask. “You think I'm
haunting you? Why?”
    His throat bobs as he
swallows.
    The phone rings again.
    “We've got to go,” Cooper
Finnegan announces, leaving the house and not waiting for me to get
out before closing the door. I can't go through it. For whatever
reason, it's solid. I wrap my hand around the doorknob and get it
to twist, but I'm not strong enough to do more.
    My medium realizes there's a
problem pretty quickly and comes back to open the door with an
apologetic air.
    “I can usually go through
doors,” I say, not quite asking a question.
    “Newer doors. This is one of the
oldest houses in town, it's got a stronger imprint on Shadow.” He
ushers me to hurry up.
    I walk through the doorway but
then hit my second problem. “I can't ride in vehicles.”
    Closing his eyes, he curses.
“Right. Guess we'd better run.”
    “You can take your truck. I'll
catch up with you.”
    He frowns in consideration, then
shakes his head. “No. It's not far. I'll just tell them I couldn't
get the thing to start. Gives me an excuse for