The Supers Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Sneak Peek

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  By Sean Michael

  Coming in November 2017

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  Copyright

  The Supers

  By Sean Michael

  Hunting ghosts and finding more than they bargained for.

  Blaine Franks is a member of the paranormal research group the Supernatural Explorers. When the group loses their techie to a cross-country move, newly graduated Flynn Huntington gets the job. Flynn fits in with the guys right off the bat, but when it comes to him and Blaine, it’s more than just getting along.

  Things heat up between Blaine and Flynn as they explore their first haunted building, an abandoned hospital, together. Their relationship isn’t all that progresses, though, and soon it seems that an odd bite on Blaine’s neck has become much more.

  Hitchhiking ghosts, a tragic love story forgotten by time, and the mystery of room 204 round out a romance where the things that go bump in the night are real.

  “I want to prove that ghosts exist, and you guys had an opening in my area of expertise just as I graduated. Kind of seems like fate.”

  “What’s your area?” Blaine liked Flynn’s attitude already, though. He wasn’t going into it predisposed to disbelief. He wanted to prove ghosts existed, like Blaine.

  “Electromagnetism, biology, and computers. I’ve written a few programs to crunch the data for temperature changes, etc. And they can totally be tweaked as needed. Plus… well, I guess you guys are the ones for whom this is a pro not a con, but I’ve experienced ghosts before.”

  “Yeah? When?” That wasn’t particularly unique. Ghosts were everywhere, and people also got spooked by things that weren’t ghosts all the time.

  “Most of my life, actually.” Flynn held his gaze for a long moment, and Blaine felt like the guy was testing him. He must have passed because Flynn continued. “My parents died when I was five. Car accident. Every now and then, when I really need her, my mother comes to me.”

  Chapter One

  “OKAY, Mrs. Michaels. I have two pounds of tomatoes, a bunch of spinach, and some okra. You want anything else?” The heat was hanging on today, the sun beating down on the makeshift building that was the official King and Franks Farm Stand, named after his mom and dad’s families.

  “No, Blaine, honey. That’s it. How’s your mom?”

  “Good. Good. The chemo is done, and she’s recovering. She’s a stud.” And Dad was Dad—working his ass off on the organic farm that kept them in quarters. One day Blaine would go back to college, get a job that helped out, but for now they needed him here, working the stand, hawking veggies.

  It was a good life, really. He hated being cooped up, hated being trapped under fluorescent lights, and the idea of a cubicle made him gag.

  And this way he got to work with the Supers on the side. Well, at night really, as that’s when they tended to do their thing. They hadn’t had a gig in a few weeks, but then they hadn’t had anyone doing tech work since Jill left. She’d moved from Port Hope to BC with her girlfriend.

  Jason had found someone new, though, had promised to bring him by today to meet Blaine.

  His folks teased him about being a spirit chaser, but they indulged him. Hell, he was a grown-up; they didn’t have the right to tell him no, but still….

  The guys were important to him. They believed him—mostly.

  He hoped the new guy wasn’t too much of a skeptic. It was hard to find tech guys who believed that ghosts might be real. They’d discovered when they’d first banded together that most tech guys were there to prove that ghosts didn’t exist.

  The huge van pulled up, Supernatural Explorers written on the side of it. The thing fit all their equipment, six people—though there were usually just four—and in a pinch a couple of them could sleep in there too.

  Jason, who ran the group and got them gigs and stuff; Darnell, their cameraman; and Will, their, well, roadie for want of a better word, all spilled out, with another guy in tow. He had to be the new guy, and he was handsome. He didn’t look much like a scientist. More like a football player. Tall, broad-chested, with dark curls that spilled around his face in an unruly manner, the guy was quite handsome.

  Blaine knew what he looked like—a dishwater-blond hippie with dirt under his fingernails and torn-up clothes. He was a child of the earth, after all.

  Jason was skinny as a rail, had an acne-ridden face, and wore glasses. Darnell was a stud, milk-chocolate skin accompanied by the most amazing dreads, while Will looked like a biker and had the muscles to move any equipment they brought with them. They were a scruffy crew who didn’t quite look like they belonged together, but they were ghost hunters—they weren’t exactly hired for their matching attire, and not a one of them was interested in wearing a uniform.

  Jason gave Blaine a wide grin and waved at the new guy. “This is Flynn Huntington, potential com tech. Flynn, this is Blaine, the guy who has the final say on whether or not you’ve got the job.”

  Flynn held out his hand and gave him a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you. So you’re the leader of this motley crew?”

  “Me?” He’d never led the guys anywhere but into trouble. “I’m not the leader. I’m just the flashlight guy.”

  Blaine was the one who tended to see something if there was something to see. He heard them—the ghosts—talking to him, but it wasn’t clear. It was like a constant, crazy murmuring.

  “Like I said, he who leads.” Flynn winked, and when he reached out and shook Blaine’s hand, a flash of something sparked between them. Flynn must have felt it too. His eyes widened, his mouth opening on a soft gasp.

  A rush of heat and pleasure and a jolt of something dangerous, and this had never happened to Blaine, ever, so it couldn’t be real. Had to be the heat.

  It wasn’t until Flynn dropped his hand that Blaine realized he’d still been holding it. Flynn’s smile seemed warmer this time.

  “We all grilled him and gave him the okay, but now it’s your turn,” Jason informed him, looking around. “I’ll man the stand if you want to take him to the side or something. I don’t mean to press you, but we’ve got a gig this weekend.”

  “Just watch the cash, okay?”

  Jason gave him a hurt look. “Dude, how many summers did I work here?”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” This was the first summer, though, where it felt a little like life and death. They needed every penny they could scrape together to pay the fucking hospital bills.

  Flynn followed Blaine to a quiet corner, and Blaine was overly conscious that as tall as he was, Flynn was taller. Seriously, he hadn’t known they built scientists in extrastudly.

  “So, why us? Why this? Tell me everything.” He grabbed a plum from a basket and tossed it over.

  Flynn grabbed it easily and rubbed it against his shirt. “Thanks.” He took a bite, the juice running down from one corner of his mouth.

  Blaine was struck with the urge to lick it away. He forced himself to look into Flynn’s eyes instead.

  “I want to prove that ghosts exist, and you guys had an opening in my area of expertise just as I graduated. Kind of seems
like fate.”

  “What’s your area?” Blaine liked Flynn’s attitude already, though. He wasn’t going into it predisposed to disbelief. He wanted to prove ghosts existed, like Blaine.

  “Electromagnetism, biology, and computers. I’ve written a few programs to crunch the data for temperature changes, etc. And they can totally be tweaked as needed. Plus… well, I guess you guys are the ones for whom this is a pro not a con, but I’ve experienced ghosts before.”

  “Yeah? When?” That wasn’t particularly unique. Ghosts were everywhere, and people also got spooked by things that weren’t ghosts all the time.

  “Most of my life, actually.” Flynn held his gaze for a long moment, and Blaine felt like the guy was testing him. He must have passed because Flynn continued. “My parents died when I was five. Car accident. Every now and then, when I really need her, my mother comes to me.”

  “I’m sorry, man. Honestly.” Blaine knew the fear of losing his folks. He lived in terror of losing his mom, especially now.

  Flynn shook his head. “It was a long time ago, and like I said, I still have my mother when I really need her.” This time his grin was self-deprecating. “Of course I learned early not to tell people about it. I’ve experienced other phenomena too, that I know were from beyond, so I want to prove it.”

  Prove I’m not crazy.

  Though unsaid, Blaine was pretty sure he could hear that in Flynn’s thoughts.

  “I get that. I don’t need proof. I know like I know chairs exist, but I’m the guy in the group the spirits seem to flock to.”

  “That’s got to be scary sometimes. I mean when it’s a place where people were murdered. Or a prison or something.”

  “Sometimes. Lots of times. Mostly it turns out to be nothing—creaking buildings or animals—but sometimes….” At least Blaine thought so. He was pretty sure.

  “Yeah, I imagine there’s a lot of dead ends.” Flynn stopped for a moment. Then he laughed, the deep sound finding a place to settle in Blaine’s belly. “Pun not intended, but damn, it should have been.”

  Blaine began to laugh along, and suddenly Darnell appeared. “So, he’s in, huh? Cool.”

  “That quick?” Flynn asked.

  Darnell nodded, his dreads flopping enthusiastically. “Dude, you made him laugh out loud. That’s a thing.”

  “I didn’t even do it on purpose!” Flynn looked pleased, dark eyes lit up and twinkling.

  “We’ll give it a try. I think we’ll manage,” Blaine said. And if they didn’t, who cared?

  “That’s great!” Flynn grabbed Blaine’s hand and shook it, and again there was a jolt, a sharing almost of… spirit?

  Lord, he was getting crazier as the day went on.

  Flynn finished the plum as Darnell called the others over. They all shook hands, and nobody else seemed to feel anything special when they touched Flynn.

  Huh. Well, maybe Blaine was imagining things. It happened. A guy could start reading into everything.

  “We should go out to celebrate,” Darnell suggested. “Have supper, a couple of beers, and get to know each other before we go to work this weekend.”

  “Sure. I’m free,” Flynn noted.

  “I am too, unless something comes up with Mom,” Blaine agreed.

  “Your mom?” Flynn asked.

  “She’s battling breast cancer.”

  Flynn winced. “I’m sorry, man. That sucks.” Flynn slid his hand over Blaine’s, squeezed.

  “Thank you. She’s going to make it. I have faith.” And Dad needed her.

  “That’s half the battle, isn’t it?” Flynn gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “You ready to go now, or do we need to meet you at Bennie’s?” Darnell asked him.

  “I have to close out, go home and change, shower. All that shit.”

  “So we’ll meet you there. Promise I won’t let Jase and Will get too shit-faced before you show up.” Darnell winked and popped Flynn in the arm. “Let’s go, man. First drink is on the newbie.”

  Flynn chuckled. “How come I feel like I’m being shaken down?”

  “If they offer to buy you a cement mixer, say no!” Blaine called.

  Flynn frowned, and the last thing Blaine heard was Flynn asking, “What’s a cement mixer?” followed by Darnell’s cackling laugh.

  Oh man. He was going to have to hurry, or they were going to eat Mr. Flynn Huntington alive. He started closing out, trying not to get distracted by the memory of Flynn’s dancing eyes.

  Chapter Two

  FLYNN had refused the offer of a “cement mixer,” silently thanking the still-absent Blaine for the heads-up. He had bought the guys two rounds already but barely started on his own second beer. He hadn’t eaten all day, aside from a plum, so his tolerance was lower than usual. Once Blaine got here, they were going to eat, and then he could indulge.

  He didn’t want to be shit-faced tonight, not with his new… coworkers? Team? Let him prove himself capable first, then he could let it all hang out.

  The guys were a hoot, honestly, and seemed to be decent, genuinely interested, and basically all-around good guys. They were clearly friends, which was nice. For the kind of work they did, it was important everyone got along, cared.

  Things could—at least so he hoped—get odd and intense in their investigations. He wanted powerful and magical and strange. He wanted to prove that ghosts were real. That death wasn’t the end.

  Yeah, he liked the guys, and he really liked Blaine. Well, he’d been attracted to Blaine—he wasn’t sure he knew him well enough yet to like him. He hoped to, though. Not that he needed a boyfriend at the moment, right? Now he needed to work, to focus on the science and find a job that would support his interests.

  The guys all shouted out, “Hey! Blaine!” And Will added, “About fucking time, man. You’re starving us to death.”

  “Mom needed me to help her with a few things. You know how it is.” Blaine’s hair was freshly washed and loose, the long mass wild and free now, making him look even thinner and more otherworldly than ever.

  Flynn’s body tightened, and he forced himself to ignore it. He got up with the others as they moved from the bar to a table. The guys all clapped Blaine on the shoulder, and Flynn offered his hand again; he wasn’t one of the gang yet, not really. Not until they’d gone through a job together, he imagined.

  That thing that had happened back when he’d first met Blaine rushed through him again as their skin made contact. Like a connection to the other side. Like something in him was responding to something in Blaine. Flynn swallowed and smiled, told himself to shake it off. He was a scientist, not a romantic; he needed to keep his head straight.

  Flynn hadn’t had anything to eat yet. That’s what this was. He grabbed his menu, focused on it.

  “I’m starving, guys,” Blaine said. “Starving. Let’s eat!”

  Flynn had to smile—looked like he and Blaine were on the same wavelength.

  “You’re starving?” Jason shook his head. “We’ve been waiting for you to show up to eat, man. You don’t get to pull the starving card now.”

  “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but are you ready to order?” a waitress asked, pen and pad in hand.

  “I want a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Guinness, please.” Blaine grinned, unapologetic as hell.

  “I’ll have the beef and Guinness stew,” Flynn decided. “And what the hell, I’ll have a Guinness too.” God, he was famished. “Can I have some nachos, please?”

  Darnell laughed, and Will shook his head. “Nice one. You want anything else?”

  Flynn shook his head. “That should do me.”

  The other guys ordered, and everyone started talking, random snippets of conversation. Flynn sat back and watched, beginning to learn how they communicated.

  Jason was the leader, no question, heading the conversation in different directions, making the best jokes, the wittiest comments.

  Will was mostly quiet, putting in a few words here and there, while Darnell brayed with
laughter on a regular basis.

  Blaine watched, eyes wandering the crowd, searching.

  Flynn found his own gaze following the same pathways, trying to find out what Blaine was looking for, what he’d seen.

  He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. It was a bar and grill—mostly young, middle-class people out for a drink.

  Flynn wondered how long the place had been here, what stories it held. Maybe that would explain what had Blaine’s attention. Hell, maybe the guy was just checking the place out because he was tired and not into the conversation. Flynn didn’t know. He really did need to learn these people.

  “So, Blaine. How long have you seen spirits?”

  “My whole life. I don’t remember ever not seeing them, I guess.”

  “Cool. Was it scary at first?” It hadn’t been for Flynn, though he’d never seen his mother, only felt her presence. It had been comforting that first time, not scary.

  “No. No, it wasn’t scary until I got older, I think. It took me a long time to sense my first malevolent spirit.”

  “Yeah? Were you trying to feel one? Or, I mean, waiting for it to happen? Or was it a shock?”

  “It was a shock.” Blaine shrugged and gave him a sheepish grin. “I got better at it.”

  “I can’t decide if it would be easier to know or not to know. I mean, if you know it’s there, you can try and defend against it. But if you don’t know it’s there, you’re not scared. And will it hurt you if you don’t know it’s there? I’m guessing yes.” Flynn shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrogate you.”

  “You’re the scientist. I assume that means data, right?”

  Flynn grinned and ducked his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s how I operate.” He did like to get as much information as possible before he made any kind of decision.

  “Then that’s cool. We want to be as thorough as possible. We can’t get a TV deal if we aren’t professional about this.”

  “Is that the goal?” Flynn didn’t need to be a TV star. He just wanted to prove that ghosts were real. He hadn’t thought much beyond that, honestly.