He fisted the handle, putting his shoulder into the wood in an effort to open it. The knob refused to budge, and he glanced through the small window, drawing a harsh breath when a man’s face sneered back at him, the guy’s skin a pale shade of white with lines furrowed into his brow and around his mouth. A thick mustache covered his upper lip, and when the thing grinned, a sparkle of gold glittered in the glaring light.
Dylan set his jaw, pounding on the door as he tried the handle again. The ghost leered at him then flew backward, drifting over the floor. A cold shiver worked its way through Dylan’s body as he watched it float up the stairs.
“Annie!”
His voice barely carried above the sound of the rain hitting the glass. He tried the door one last time then bolted off the porch and around the back, wrenching open the gate at the side of the house, rattling the post as it slammed against the wall of the house. He ran down the narrow corridor, taking the corner at a full sprint as he made for the rear door. He took the back steps two at a time, removing his gun as he reached the deck. He shuffled through his keys, finally finding the right one before shoving it in the lock. The sound of the mechanism tumbling open soothed some of the rawness clawing at his chest as he shoved the door aside and ran inside. The lights flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat before winking out, shrouding the home in darkness. He made his way along the hallway, using the railing to slingshot him around and up the first few steps. The wood groaned in sequence as he made his way to the top in time to see the entity disappear into his room, closing the door behind it.
Dylan glanced at the gun tight in his hands before holstering it and running at the door.
Annie leaned against the white tiles, watching the soap swirl down the drain. She’d been standing under the spray for ten minutes, but it hadn’t come close to washing off the feel of Dylan’s gaze. The way his eyes had roved down her body, pausing at her breasts and groin. Her nipples had tightened in response, beading against her chest until she’d wanted to beg him to take them in his mouth. Feel his hands cupped around them, pinching and rolling as he teased her to the brink of release.
Her pussy clenched emptily, reminding her it was nothing more than a fantasy. While she couldn’t deny the unquestionable attraction they seemed to share, she doubted he’d ever see her as more than Temperance’s little sister—a burden he’d been forced into protecting.
Her stomach dropped, and she turned off the shower, grabbing the towel as she stepped out. Her skin felt raw against the soft terry, as if any touch but his was too much. She cursed the heat settling in her groin and dried herself off, pausing when she thought she heard him yell her name. She listened, but only the tinny sound of rain on the window filled the room.
Annie sighed. It was going to be a long couple of days if she couldn’t get a grip on her hormones. Making Dylan feel bad about not wanting to take her to his bed wouldn’t solve anything. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who allowed his emotions to rule his actions.
Emotions. Right. Lust was the only emotion she ventured he’d give in to, and she could tell by the way he tugged at her heart, she’d never be satisfied with only one night.
An empty feeling settled inside as she put on her bra and panties. Then she snagged her cell and stained jeans, thankful she’d at least have clean clothes to spend the night in, even if they were his. She could only hope his spicy cologne wasn’t fused into the fabric.
She smiled at the thought and walked into the bedroom. A long-sleeved shirt and some sweats draped over the end of his bed, the cuffs brushing the floor as if he’d tossed them in a heated rush on his way out. She sighed. This was crazy. Why the hell were they putting themselves through something so obviously awkward when the simple solution was for her to simply go home? And what was their ghostly friend really going to do? Move a chair around?
“I’ll just march downstairs and tell Dylan to drive me home, period. If he refuses, I’ll call a cab. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and some trumped up version of
Casper
.”
She nodded, running over her speech in her head as she slipped on the pants, tugging the string taut around her waist. They were more than a few sizes too big, but they gave her a strange sense of security. She smiled, shaking out her dirty pair as she prepared to fold them. A dull thud caught her attention, and she glanced down, inhaling sharply when she saw the small silver unit lying on the floor. Shit. She’d completely forgotten about the digital recorder Avery had given her earlier. It must have slipped into the bottom of her pocket when Dylan had tackled her. She picked it up, turning it over in her hand, wondering if she’d captured any evidence that might give them some insight into who the creepy guy in the photo was or what this was all about.
“Great. Now I’m the one searching for voices hidden in the static. I must be losing my mind.”
She placed the unit beside her cell on the bed and grabbed Dylan’s shirt, raising it to her face. She glanced around the room then cautiously inhaled. Spicy pine and earthy musk tickled her senses, mixed with the fresh scent of laundry detergent.
“God. Even his clothes turn my insides to mush.”
She gave herself a shake, fingering the hem when a strong breeze swirled over her skin, beading it with a rash of goose bumps. Annie froze. A familiar sensation crept along the nape of her neck, as if someone was watching her. Her grip tightened around the fabric as she spun toward the door, her breath leaving her on a startled scream as she stared at the white figure standing in the doorway. Its features wavered in the bright light, its form slightly transparent. A cruel smile twisted the man’s lips as he sneered at her, slowly floating across the floor.
Annie took a quick step back, tossing the shirt at the ghost’s face as she darted toward the bathroom. But the door slammed shut, trapping her between it and the mass hovering by the bed. She looked around for something to defend herself when the bedroom door crashed open, bouncing against the wall as Dylan barreled in. He was nothing more than a blur of motion as he raced at the ghost, diving at it from across the room.
The smell of brimstone infused the air as Dylan passed through the apparition, tumbling roughly across the bed before slamming into the headboard. A harsh cackle echoed through the room as the spirit rose into the air, the lower half of his body expanding into nothing more than a thick black cloud. Dylan rolled to his feet, yelling at her to run.
She shifted right, but the ghost howled, vanishing and reappearing in front of the door in the space of a heartbeat. The metallic taste of fear crested the back of her throat as she stared at the figure, its haunting eyes burning into a bloody shade of red.
Dylan shouldered up beside her, his hand a reassuring caress down the line of her spine before he shrugged a bag off his back. He rummaged through the contents, removing a flask and a clear bag of white crystals. He handed her the bag, giving her a hardened stare. “Stay close and when I tell you to run, you’d better race your ass down to the Jeep, or I swear I’ll paddle your butt red the second we’re clear.”
She nodded, not sure what to make of his claim. He appeared alarmingly calm, and she couldn’t help but wonder if his heart was beating half as erratically as hers. Dylan opened the flask, ushering her behind him as he approached the apparition. The ghost snarled and waved its hand. One of Dylan’s pictures flew across the room, crashing into the wall beside him, splintering glass across the floor.
It hissed this time. “Die.” The menacing word rumbled all around them as if the air had spoken.
Dylan stood his ground, raising the container to his chest. “You first.”
He flicked his wrist, spraying a stream of liquid at the mist. The ghost shrieked, whirling in on itself until it vanished in a flash of light, leaving a smudge of ash on the floor as the only proof it’d really been there.
“Run!”
Dylan grabbed the bag then clasped his hand in hers as he raced out the door and down the stairs, his grip never easing. She ran with him, the echo of his single word still ringing through the air. He turned sharply at the bottom of the staircase, heading for the back of the home. A hiss sounded behind them, sputtering like water on a fire, as they charged into the yard. Dylan didn’t slow as he led her along the side of the house, emerging beside the Jeep.
“Jeep, now, honey.”
She waited as he unlocked the door, barely ducking her head in time as he shoved her into the car, making her climb over the stick shift as he crammed in behind her, flinging the bag into the backseat again. She grabbed the handle above the window as he revved the engine and shot the car backward, spinning out of the drive before popping it into first and ripping down the street. Her heart hammered in her chest as she finally managed to right herself, her fingers still clamped around the handle. A flicker of movement clawed at the window, only to fade into streaks as Dylan hit the accelerator, leaving the house behind in a blur of swirling rain and the echoing rumble of thunder.
Chapter Five
Dylan slid Annie a quick glance as he rounded a corner, the squeal of the tires piercing the sudden silence. Her hair hung in wet strands around her face, the deep brown color making her skin appear paler than usual. Her eyes darted nervously from side to side as she gripped at the handle until her knuckles turned white.
He bit back a growl as he looked away. He needed to gather back some semblance of control before he pulled Annie into his arms and never let go. Busting into his bedroom to find her trapped against the bathroom door dressed in nothing more than his pants and her bra as that
thing
hovered within reach had scared him to the bone, and every decision he’d made after that had narrowed into a single purpose—keeping her safe.
He’d felt something similar before, but never to the point his heart threatened to pound through his chest. She mattered, and in more ways than he ever dreamed possible.
He took a soothing breath then elbowed her gently, attempting to gain her attention. “Are you okay?”
She glanced behind her as if expecting to see the ghost following them down the road, before nodding.
He reached over, cupping her chin with one hand as he slowed the vehicle slightly. “I want to hear you say it, so I know you’re not lying to me. Are you okay?”
Her chin quivered beneath his touch, and it was all he could do not to pull over the car and gather her in his arms. Bury his face in the sweet smell of floral shampoo and coconut soap. But if Avery was right, they needed to get someplace safer before their friend tried again.
She huffed out an irritated breath, but didn’t try to move away. “If you call being chased by an…an…an evil ghost okay, then yeah. Couldn’t be better.”
He couldn’t help but smile at the sarcastic edge to her voice. She could hold her own; he’d grant her that. “That’s more like it.” He brushed his thumb along her jaw before dropping his hand.
She looked behind them again. “So, do you think it’ll follow us?”
He hated the hint of fear in her voice, despite her efforts to show him a strong front. “I’d say that’s a safe bet. Avery mentioned something about it feeding off of our energy, though I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about.” He reached into his pocket and handed her his cell. “Do me a favor, and call my brother for me. It’s time the man gave me some straight answers.”
A visible shivered worked through her body before she looked away, fiddling with his phone. He wondered what was going through her head when she sighed and waved it at him.
“Sorry, Dylan, but it’s dead.”
“Come again?” He palmed it in one hand as he tapped the screen. “Fuck. I just talked to him. The damn thing was at ninety percent. How the hell is it dead?”
“I’ve heard Tempie say that ghosts can use the power from phones and other digital media as a way of recharging. I never put much stock into it, but maybe that thing back there drained it.” She patted her pants, uttering a harsh curse. “Damn it. Mine is still on your bed, along with a digital recorder Avery gave me. I was hoping we could listen to it…maybe gather some evidence.”
“We can’t worry about that now.” He sighed and placed his cell on the dash. “This is crazy. How can a ghost drain my cellphone? Not that I can’t charge it, but…fuck, how can that thing actually exist?”
“You know this means Tempie and Avery are going to tease us, endlessly, right? For being skeptics all these years.”
He chuckled. “I’ll gladly take a few rounds of heckling from Av if he can find a way to send that bastard packing.” He glanced at her again, his breath hitching at the warmth reflected in her eyes. He was so dead. “But if everything else he says is also true, it looks like it’s up to you and me, honey.”
She raised a brow. “Should I be worried that you sound more nervous about having me as a partner than you do about discovering ghosts are real?”
He groaned inwardly. He’d have to work harder at keeping his emotions in check, or she’d have no problem connecting the dots quickly forming all around them. “Ghosts I can handle, but you?” He gave her a long, slow sweep. “You’re danger with a capital D, which reminds me. I thought the whole purpose of having a shower was to change into some new clothes. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re still conspicuously underdressed.”
She crinkled her brow, glancing down before hissing her breath out. “Damn! I forgot I threw your shirt at that bloody ghost when it cornered me against the bathroom door. I’ve just been too preoccupied to notice.”