A Psychic of a Problem

Published by: eXtasy Books

ISBN :978-1-4874-3455-7

Page :160

Word Count :49892

Publication Date :2022-01-14

Heat Level :

Available Formats : A Psychic of a Problem (epub) , A Psychic of a Problem (mobi) , A Psychic of a Problem (pdf) , A Psychic of a Problem (prc)

Category : LGBTQIA+ Romance , Paranormal Romance , Romance

Product Code: 978-1-4874-3455-7

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Sometimes death isn’t the end but a beginning.

Marcel is a spirit. Apparently, that doesn’t mean he’s dead, which he’s more than a little grateful for. He’s still stuck in ghost form, though, and he has no idea what happened or how to fix it.

Will never knew he was a psychic, but it looks like he’s been seeing dead people without realizing it. Now he does, and he’s going to use everything he can to help save Marcel, his best friend’s brother.

But no one knows what happened to Marcel or where he is. Even when they realize someone has cast Marcel out of his body to steal his life energy, it doesn’t put them closer to finding him.

They have limited time before Marcel’s life energy is gone and he dies—for real this time.

Everything was dark. That was all Marcel could focus on, but he wanted out. He didn’t know what was happening to him, and he didn’t care. He wanted his brother, but the problem was that he didn’t know how to get to him.

It was strange. Marcel couldn’t feel anything, not even his body. He was afraid to open his eyes, afraid of what he’d see if he did.

What was happening to him?

He had no answers, and he wouldn’t get them until he opened his eyes. He’d never been a coward, so he forced himself to do just that.

At first, he couldn’t see anything. The darkness followed him, even when he tried to move. Then things started changing.

He could see a little bit of light, but not a lot. There was the outline of a house, but his eyes focused on a light coming out of it. He moved closer, needing to be out of the darkness.

The light was a man.

None of this made sense, but as long as Marcel stayed with the man, he wouldn’t be in the darkness. That was all he cared about right now, so he made a beeline for the guy, hoping the guy wouldn’t mind.

He stopped next to another object. It wasn’t as big as the house, but when he tried to touch it to identify what it was, he couldn’t.

His hand went right through it.

“Who is it?” someone asked, getting Marcel’s attention.

“How am I supposed to know?” someone else answered. They were both men, from the sound of it, but Marcel couldn’t identify either of them. He couldn’t identify anything, and he was starting to panic.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he see anything? Why couldn’t he touch anything?

“Maybe you should ask them,” the first voice said.

“I don’t think I’ll have a choice.” The first man moved closer. “Hi,” he said.

Marcel blinked, trying to see better. He hadn’t expected it to work, but to his surprise, it did. The car he’d been standing next to became more real, and while he still couldn’t touch it when he tried, at least he knew it was a car now. “Hi. How did I get here?”

Marcel could see the man now. He was tall, with short blond curls and blue eyes. He was cute, but that wasn’t the reason Marcel was here.

The problem was that Marcel didn’t know where he was or why he was here. He didn’t know anything, and he was starting to panic.

He swallowed. He needed his brother. Jerome would make everything better. He always did.

“I’m not sure,” the cute man said. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

Marcel hesitated. What did he remember? He honestly wasn’t sure. He frowned as he thought, but the only thing that came to his mind was a room. There was a man there, but Marcel didn’t feel much when he thought about the guy, so he didn’t think he knew him.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted his brother.

Marcel had never resented the fact that even though he was older than Jerome by one year, Jerome had always been the protector. It was ingrained in him for some reason, and Marcel had always been more than happy to allow Jerome to keep him safe.

Not that he had needed him to. It wasn’t like people attacked Marcel at every corner. But they were dragon shifters, and it wasn’t an easy life, especially not when humans didn’t know about them.

But Marcel was only sure of one thing right now. He wanted Jerome. Jerome would know what to do. He had to. “I don’t know. A room. It was dark. I didn’t know what was going on, and I wanted my brother.”

The blond nodded. “That might be why you’re here. Can you tell me your brother’s name?”

What did the man mean when he said it might be why Marcel was here? Did the man know Jerome? Could he tell Marcel where to find him? “Jerome.”

The blond sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry?”

“My brother’s name. It’s Jerome.” That was what the man had been asking, right? He wanted to know Jerome’s name, so Marcel had given it to him.

The man stared as if he’d seen a ghost. “And what’s your name?”

“Marcel.”

“What’s going on?” The second voice asked, barely louder than a whisper.

Marcel frowned, a tingling of recognition telling him he was supposed to know who this person was.

“When did you hear from Marcel last?” the blond asked the other man, who was still invisible to Marcel.

“A few days ago. Why?”

“Because he’s here. He’s the ghost I’m talking to.”

That got Marcel’s attention. What did it mean? “Who are you?” he asked.

The blond looked frightened, which didn’t make sense. Marcel was the one who was supposed to be scared. He had no idea what was going on, and when he tried to touch the car again, his hand went right through the door.

“My name is Lindsey,” the blond said.

Marcel cocked his head. “Isn’t that a woman’s name?”

The blond’s eyes narrowed. “It’s my name, so clearly, it’s not a woman’s name.” His expression shifted, and he looked at something Marcel knew he was supposed to see, too.

Why couldn’t he?

“Can you tell me anything about your situation?” Lindsey asked. “What happened to you, where you are, how you feel. Anything can help.”

Marcel raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. What’s going on?”

He felt like he was going nuts, and he didn’t know how to stop. He was out of control, and he never was. Jerome was the protector, and Marcel was the control freak. That was how they worked. It had always been.

Lindsey raised his hands. “Don’t panic.”