Now and Forever Read online

Page 3


  Connor shrugged. “Okay.”

  A minute or so later, Eugene McAllister, the pawnshop owner, walked out of the back room with a thick leather-bound book. Harley wasn’t surprised by that at all. In his line of work, he knew of several business owners, especially small businesses, who still did everything manually. He looked at the leather covering, which appeared really old. Again, he wasn’t astonished. He didn’t like to generalize, but based on his personal experiences, pawnshop owners could be very superstitious, especially the shops that had been in business for hundreds of years. Most of them insisted on keeping the first leather covers their ancestors had utilized from the beginning.

  “After checking through my most recent records, I believe I know the one you’re looking for, Mr. Green. You may not have a photograph of it, but the watch you describe has a very distinctive feature.”

  “Harley, please, Mr. McAllister.”

  The pawnshop owner smiled. “Then please address me as Eugene.”

  “All right. Thank you. Do you still have the pocket watch by any chance?”

  Eugene hesitated a second or two before nodding. “I do indeed.”

  Harley was ecstatic. He rarely managed to complete an assignment within such a short period of time. However, there was something in Eugene’s tone of voice that made him pause. “Is there anything wrong with it?”

  Once again, Eugene didn’t immediately answer. “The pocket watch itself is in almost pristine condition, and it’s still working fine. I’m frankly amazed by the incredible state of the watch.”

  Harley focused on Eugene’s expression. “But?”

  Eugene glanced around the empty shop before leaning in closer. “There’s something odd about the watch.”

  “Odd?”

  Eugene nodded. “When it first came to me, I was delighted because it was such an exquisite item. Then I sold it to an interested buyer within two hours. I didn’t think anything was wrong with it because I’d checked everything, and nothing was damaged. There wasn’t even a scratch on it. It looked brand new.”

  “Okay. What happened then?”

  Harley shifted closer to Eugene, and he noticed Connor doing the same thing.

  Eugene had a frightened expression on his face now. “I think it’s better if I show the watch to you.”

  “Okay.”

  Harley and Connor had to wait only for less than a minute before Eugene returned from the back of the pawnshop. Harley didn’t feel anything strange about the watch, but through his peripheral vision, he noticed Connor stiffening in an instant.

  “There’s something in it,” Connor whispered into Harley’s ear.

  Harley gulped, and he felt something cold slithering down his spine. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The moment Eugene came close, he passed the watch to them. Harley grabbed it without a second thought, but grew disappointed when he couldn’t feel anything sinister about it. He was about to admonish Connor for scaring him unnecessarily when Eugene spoke up.

  “At exactly seventeen minutes past ten o’clock at night, you can hear a drawn-out wailing sound coming from the watch.”

  Harley stared at Eugene in astonishment. “Wailing?”

  “As I mentioned earlier, I’d sold this watch to a fine gentleman two hours after it came into my possession, but he returned it to me the next morning. Then an older woman purchased it the same day, but she brought it back the next morning. The pattern continued a couple more times. None of the buyers explained to me what was wrong with it, and I thought either they had regretted acquiring it or it didn’t quite fit whatever purposes they had intended for it. After that, I decided I should just put it away. At least for the time being. Then, a few nights ago, I had to stay here late because I had some last-minute task to perform. That was when I found out what was wrong with it. The wailing was loud and clear. At first, I shrugged it off, chiding myself for overreacting, but after it occurred again the next two evenings, I had to concede to the fact that something was eerily wrong with the watch.”

  Connor had a blank expression on his face, but he looked as if he wanted to pounce on the watch. It didn’t take a genius to figure out something must be residing within it.

  Harley quickly explained to the pawnshop owner that the watch was actually a stolen item, but the original owners were willing to pay to get it back. Harley wasn’t surprised when Eugene immediately agreed to the transaction. Fortunately, Harley could afford the amount specified, so he didn’t have to contact his clients to transfer the money to Eugene. He would get his money back later. After that, he and Connor left the pawnshop with the watch in their possession.

  “What’s next?” Connor asked, but kept staring at Harley’s shirt pocket where he had placed the watch.

  Harley snapped his fingers in front of Connor’s face. Connor gazed straight into Harley’s eyes.

  “I think we should bring this watch back to the owners.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes,” Harley replied. “The sooner, the better. This whole thing is creeping me out.”

  Connor’s expression remained flat for a few seconds before he eventually smiled. “Sounds like a great idea. Let’s go.”

  In the car, neither of them exchanged many words, but Harley could tell Connor was itching to get his hands on the watch. He had a strong feeling that this trip might turn into a scene from some of the horror movies he used to watch.

  * * * *

  Connor knew he could have forced the spirit inside the watch to make an appearance. After all, he could feel the spirit’s energy. However, Harley seemed curious enough about the origin of the spirit, and Connor was willing to play along.

  Not that it mattered to him one way or another. As a soul collector, his duty was to deliver the spirit into the underworld. He didn’t care about those spirits’ sob stories. He cared only about the souls of people already dead, those who weren’t supposed to remain on the mortal plane. Period. Whatever grievances or pitiful stories they had weren’t his problems and he had zero patience for them. The spirits could take them up with the god of the underworld.

  So he was going along on this trip with Harley only because he found himself strangely willing to indulge the man’s whim. Something about Harley struck a chord deep within Connor’s being, but he had no idea what it was.

  “This is it,” Harley said several minutes later, parking in front of a huge mansion in one of the most affluent neighborhoods in San Francisco.

  Material wealth meant nothing to a soul collector like Connor, but it didn’t mean he was completely out of touch with everything. He knew humans placed great importance on things like money and enormous houses, but he wasn’t impressed with a mortal’s net worth. At the end of the day, every mortal’s soul would have to make his or her journey into the underworld with only the angel of death by his or her side. Nothing he or she had accumulated in the mortal realm could be brought along.

  Connor stared at the mansion for a second or two before getting out of the car. He could feel the energy of yet another spirit inside the massive residence calling out for the one inside the pocket watch. “Let’s go inside and get this over with.”

  He didn’t mean to be so curt with Harley, but he was seriously itching to grab both spirits and send them into the underworld, determined to kick their asses all the way there if necessary. In the underworld, dead people would be judged, and depending upon their karma, they would either be punished before they reincarnated or they could be transported elsewhere.

  Connor was a little taken aback when he felt Harley’s fingers wrap around his wrist. Then Harley pulled him all the way to the front door. For such a lean man, Harley was surprisingly strong. Then again, Connor wasn’t resisting much. He observed Harley’s smiling face as the man pressed the doorbell. Harley was incredibly gorgeous, and Connor felt something more powerful than lust stirring deep within him. Before he could analyze the feeling any further, the door opened.

  �
�Good afternoon, gentlemen. How may I be of assistance?”

  Connor was sorely tempted to roll his eyes. The damn mansion actually had a butler. The owners must be too lazy to answer the door themselves.

  “Good afternoon,” Harley greeted in return. “I’m Harley Green, and this is my colleague, Connor Bowman. I visited this mansion a while back regarding the missing pocket watch.”

  The butler’s face lit up. “Indeed, Mr. Green. Please come in, gentlemen. I’ll inform Mr. Street, and he will be with you in just a moment. First, let me show you into the sitting room.”

  Harley beamed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  Connor didn’t bother to utter a single word; all the politeness and civility creeped him out. They felt so fake to him, regardless of how sincere both Harley’s and the butler’s tones sounded. Connor had a straightforward, no-nonsense approach to things. He had always been that way as far back as he could remember. After existing for thousands of years, he really had zero fucks left to give anyone.

  He was astonished for the second time that afternoon when Harley practically yanked his hand so he had no choice but to enter the mansion. Otherwise, he had no doubt Harley would manhandle him or maybe even shove him inside from behind. He ignored the size of the foyer and some of the rooms they passed as the butler led them into a small sitting room with a fireplace. There were several comfortable-looking couches, and the rugs were thick and plush. Once Connor and Harley were seated, the butler excused himself.

  “This enormous mansion will probably be wonderful if I live in it with my future husband and a few of our adopted kids,” Harley muttered to nobody in particular while he glanced around the sitting room.

  Connor snorted. “It’s ostentatious.”

  Harley chuckled. “Stop putting on that sour expression. You’ll look a lot more handsome when you smile.”

  Connor scoffed. “Whatever.”

  However, he quickly changed his expression into something more neutral. He had no idea what it was about Harley that had such a powerful effect on him. He had never cared about anyone’s opinion before. Not even the words of the angel of death could affect him much, especially when he got into one of his surly moods. Harley was different, though. One light teasing smirk from him, and Connor would feel the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

  However, he didn’t get to ponder the matter any further because a stocky, balding man entered the room.

  “Harley, my boy!”

  Harley got up and shook hands with the newcomer. “Mr. Street, I hope I haven’t come at the most inconvenient time.”

  “Not at all. Really delighted to have your company today. My wife and our kids are in New York at the moment. My mother has gone out to meet some of her friends. I’m getting really bored all alone at home. You’ve come at just the right time.”

  Connor followed Harley’s lead and offered his hand to Mr. Street while introducing himself. Once the customary greeting was over and done with, he and Harley sat side by side on the wide couch closer to the fireplace while Mr. Street occupied the single one to their right.

  “Mr. Street,” Harley said while pulling the watch from his pocket, “I believe this is yours.”

  The man’s face lit up. “I think so. May I get a closer look? I need to make sure it’s the right one.”

  “Of course.”

  After a brief moment, Mr. Street appeared to be satisfied. Connor remained quiet as Harley and Mr. Street discussed the payment and all of the related expenses to the assignment. When they seemed to be getting close to the end of their conversation, Connor decided it was time to butt in.

  “Mr. Street, I have a question for you.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Who was the original owner of the pocket watch?”

  A brief flash of hesitation crossed Mr. Street’s face, but it disappeared almost instantly. “This is a bit of a…uh, sensitive subject.”

  Connor nodded. “I understand, but there’s something you need to know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “To start with, I’m what people label as a psychic. I have a sixth sense.” Connor ignored the incredulous look Harley threw his way. It wasn’t as if he could tell Mr. Street the whole truth about himself. A psychic was the closest thing a mere mortal could understand and accept. “There’s something in that pocket watch.”

  Mr. Street was definitely intrigued now. “Like a spirit?”

  Connor was amused deep inside, but he carefully maintained a neutral expression. “Yes.”

  Mr. Street darted his eyes around the sitting room before scooting closer to Harley and Connor. “Okay. Here’s the thing. This watch belonged to my great-grandfather. There’s actually another one right here in this house.”

  “Exactly the same?” Connor inquired.

  “Indeed. Let me get it for you.”

  Mr. Street grinned widely before rushing out of the room. Then Harley slapped Connor’s arm. Hard.

  Connor glared at him. “What was that for?”

  “Next time, let me know in advance if you’re going to do something like this.”

  Connor chuckled. “Fine. You have my word. I promise.”

  Mr. Street returned less than two minutes later. Connor stiffened when he felt the increase in energy. No doubt about it; this had to be the other spirit he’d felt earlier upon their arrival.

  Mr. Street resumed his previous seat before showing them the two identical watches. “Are you going to summon the spirits for me?”

  Connor almost snorted, but refrained. “No, sir.”

  Mr. Street seemed visibly disappointed. “I see.”

  “What I can do instead is to communicate with the spirits and send them on their way.”

  Mr. Street immediately had a delighted expression on his face. “Into the light?”

  Connor wanted to laugh at the description, but he didn’t think it a good idea at the moment. He had no doubt Mr. Street expected the spirits to fly to heaven. Not that he could blame the mortal for thinking that way. Most living relatives and friends hoped for their dead loved ones to go to heaven. In reality, they would all travel straight into hell for their final judgments before they would be separated into various groups, depending on their respective karma.

  “Something like that, Mr. Street.”

  Mr. Street was obviously excited now. “Please do that. Money is no problem. Anything for my ancestors.”

  Connor shook his head. “I don’t require payment for that service, but if you insist on giving me money, you may donate it to a charitable organization on my behalf.”

  “I can do that. Anything else?”

  “The story behind the watches, Mr. Street…?” Connor reminded while gazing at them.

  “Oh, right. Well, as I’ve mentioned, the story is a bit of a sensitive subject.”

  “Discretion is our policy,” Harley interjected before Connor could utter a single word.

  Connor was highly amused now. Harley was just as curious as his client.

  “Okay. You see, back in the day, men and women in families like mine had to get married. It was practically the law. I’m sure you understand what I mean.”

  Connor certainly did. He was thousands of years old, so he knew what Mr. Street was referring to. “We do. Continue, please.”

  “Anyway, my great-grandfather is a…” Mr. Street trailed off for a second or two before continuing in a much softer volume. “He’s a homosexual.”

  Connor had to force himself not to roll his eyes. “Okay.”

  “Anyway, my great-grandfather ended up marrying my great-grandmother. According to his journal, their marriage had been happy enough. They shared great affections with each other.”

  “And?” Harley prodded.

  “But he preferred to hang out with his best friend, who had also lived inside this same mansion, by the way. The two of them were that close to each other. They would often go on fishing or hunting trips together, but they’d nev
er caught anything.”

  Connor snorted, but Harley pinched his arm so hard, he yelped and glared at him. Harley simply gave him an innocent smile. Connor cursed at Harley internally before refocusing his attention onto Mr. Street. “Sorry about that. Go ahead. Tell us the rest of the story.”

  “The watches belonged to my great-grandfather and his best friend. When they died within months of each other, my great-grandmother refused to bury the watches with them.”

  “Was she being spiteful?”

  Mr. Street shrugged at Harley. “No idea. She didn’t leave any diary or any other written records. However, that’s always a possibility. Can’t blame her, though. I’m sure she knew about my great-grandfather’s relationship with his best friend. Women had strong intuitions about things of that nature.”

  Connor disliked such a generalization, but he wisely kept his mouth shut, especially since Harley was narrowing both eyes in his direction as a silent warning. Instead, Connor decided to get on with his task of delivering the spirits into the underworld.

  “May I hold the watches for a brief moment?”

  Mr. Street beamed at him. “Of course. Take your time.”

  “I will. Make sure you don’t touch me, no matter what happens.”

  Mr. Street seemed even more thrilled now. “I promise.”

  Connor nodded before turning his head toward Harley. “Care to go on a short trip?”

  Harley’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Connor smirked as he placed both watches on the top of his palms before resting them on his lap. “Put your hands on top of the watches.”

  Harley gulped visibly before complying and shutting his eyes tightly. Connor chuckled softly before he grabbed Harley’s hands. Then he closed his eyes and let loose his power, allowing it to wash over them.

  It was time to go on a journey into the past.

  Chapter 4

  Harley gasped when he felt as if he was being electrocuted, but it lasted only for a second. Then he opened both eyes. He was confused when he discovered that he and Connor were still seated inside the sitting room.