Delilah Devlin - Lost Souls

She’d glanced around her empty apartment and nearly wept. But she wasn’t a crier. This time, she’d screwed up so badly, she didn’t know what to do next. She felt so hollow, so alone, she was actually glad to find Sylvia on the doorstep after she’d gathered herself together and decided to skip out to the bar.

“Joo screwed the pooch, chica .”

Cait didn’t answer, her mind made up she was going to wallow in grief for a good long time.

“Man’s right. Joo crazy. Don’ know why joo thought joo could win against somet’ing like that.” Sylvia paused in her monologue. “Hey, joo know that guy? He’s starin’.”

Cait hardly had the energy to lift her head and follow Sylvia’s gaze. But when she did, she sat straighter. Her eyes blurred for a second, but she quickly blinked away the tears.

Her father sat at his table, a Guinness in front of him, glaring back. When she held his gaze, he eased off his chair and approached. His glance went to Sylvia. “Scoot.”

“No please?” Sylvia said, narrowing her thickly mascaraed eyes.

“I’ve forgotten how to be polite,” Paddy O’Connell said, one side of his mouth quirking up. “I could just sit on you, but I really don’t want to get that intimate, sweetheart.”

A frown dug a line between her brows, but Sylvia moved down the seat, making room for Cait’s father on the bench seat.

“Who’s the dead guy?” Sylvia whispered, although Paddy could hear every word.

“My dad,” Cait whispered, her gaze unblinking and locked on her father’s figure sitting across the table. She was afraid to blink in case he wisped away as he had the first and only time she’d seen him here.

“What’s the matter, Caitydid?” he asked in the deep, gravelly voice she remembered from her childhood, the one he’d used after he’d gathered her in his arms and sat her on his knee.

“Her man dumped her.”

Paddy’s rusty eyebrows shot up. “Sam?”

“Joo know about him?” Cait asked, then realized she’d mimicked Sylvia’s accent. “You know Sam?”

Paddy nodded. “I’ve seen him here with you. Before you could see me. Man’s head over heels. What did you do?”

She scowled. “You automatically assume it’s my fault?”

His lips pursed. “It’s me you’re talkin’ to, girlie.”

Cait plucked at an imaginary thread on her jacket, forgetting for the moment she’d meant to keep staring. “I made a mistake. He’s a little angry. Handed back my key.”

“Doesn’t seem the type to go back on a decision. That mistake must not have been so little.”

Her lips twisted, and she was afraid she’d start crying, but she lifted her head. “I flirted with a demon. Used myself as bait. Not something I planned. I think the surprise nearly gave him a heart attack. And things went sideways pretty fast.”

Paddy shook his head. “It’s your mother’s fault. She thought magic was the answer to everything, that because she was a witch, she could breeze through any crisis so long as she could find the right spell.”

“I’m not like her,” Cait said, feeling a twinge of disloyalty. “I’m not flighty.”

“Really? And your baiting a demon showed common sense?”

Cait squirmed in her chair, not unaware that she was receiving a scolding from a dead man. “I don’t take magic for granted. Barely use it. I’m a PI before I’m a witch. Most days, I live in the real world. I don’t wave a wand—”

“You don’t have a wand. Neither did your mother. But you still act before you think.” His lips twitched. “You must be drivin’ that boy out of his mind.”

His words and his tone indicated he felt more than a little empathy for Sam’s point of view.

Cait slumped in her seat. “Maybe you should be haunting him instead of me, seeing as you two have so much in common.”

“Wouldn’t do any good. We can’t exactly compare notes.” Paddy O’Connell fell silent.

Cait drank in the sight of him, so large and sturdy. A stolid mountain of a man. His hair was the same dark red she remembered. Freckles blended with his tanned skin. “I miss you, Daddy.”

“I’ve always been here,” he said with a sad smile. “You’re the love of my life, Caitydid.”

Tears engulfed her eyes, and she blinked, sending them in trails down her cheeks.

“Give him some space to get over bein’ scared.”

“I don’t think space is going to do it,” she said, a hitch in her voice. “I think he meant it. He’s done with me.”

“When love’s that strong, Caity, a man can’t fight it. He’ll be back.”

“You and Mom?”

He shook his head, the light in his green eyes growing dim. “We were mismatched from the start, although we both tried really hard to make a go of being together. We wanted different things. I couldn’t walk through the house or lay my head on a pillow without finding some kind of gris-gris bag or dried-up reptile. I didn’t understand or believe in her ability. In the end, that’s what parted us. Not some bullet.”

She reached her hand across the table but stopped just shy of his hand. One touch would emphasize the gulf between them.

“You go home,” her father said. “You do whatever he asked of you. Don’t add to his worries.”

“But I can’t, Daddy. I’m the only one who can fight this thing.”

Paddy sighed. “Then you’ve made your choice. Don’t expect him to ever agree. A man comes to a point where he has to let go, or he’ll never find peace.” He pushed up from his seat, then halted. “You seeing that Morin?” he asked, his voice roughening.

The way he said Morin’s name erased any doubts he knew about Morin’s role in her life—and her mother’s. “Not often. Only when I need advice.”

“Keep it that way. He’s a user. He may have powers, but look at the mess he got himself into. You’re best to stay away from all that. Your mother didn’t learn her lesson until too late. She still hasn’t.”

She still hasn’t. Cait held still. “Do you see Mama?”

“Like I’m seeing you now?” He shook his head. “Haven’t since she summoned me. I was at peace, but then she called me back. To ask for forgiveness. What she really wanted was permission to move on—to him.” His expression turned bitter, his lips twisted. “I’m not sorry she did, though. You might still need me.”

“I’ll always need you.” They shared a long, poignant glance. “She didn’t try to send you back?”

Paddy snorted. “Said she didn’t know how. Hadn’t realized I couldn’t find my own way.”

“Have you looked?” Cait canted her head. “Sylvia here is in a similar predicament.”

Paddy turned to Sylvia for the first time. “She call you?”

Sylvia’s arms were folded. She gave an emphatic nod, her lip curling in a snarl. “She did. And for nothin’. Now I’m stuck. If my asshole husband could see me, I’d haunt his ass.”

Paddy grinned. “You don’t have to appear to him to cause him grief.”

Sylvia’s dark gaze glinted. “Really?”

“Stick with me a bit—until this one figures out how to send you back,” he said, pointing to Cait. “In the meantime, I’ll show you what a poltergeist can do.”

The two of them slid from the bench. Her dad gave her a final wink, and they headed out of the bar together, fading through the door.

“Great, I lost my boyfriend, but my dad has a date.” She sipped her Coke.

“Since it’s pure soda I served you, I’m gettin’ a little worried here, Cait.”

Cait glanced up to find Pauly standing right beside her, his glance going to the opposite empty seat. She wondered how long he’d watched her talking to the air. “I’m just practicing a few arguments for the next time I see Sam.”