by Paige Tyler
“Logan! Mav!” Brielle yelled they got close to the stairs. “We need help down here!”
Presley was about to race up the steps with Brielle, only to stop when their ghostly pursuer materialized halfway up them. As narrow as the staircase was, there was no way to get past him. If they wanted to get out of the basement, they were going to have to go through him. Since the ghost didn’t seem to have any effect on Brielle and Robert when he’d passed through them before, Presley was confident they could make it, but she wasn’t so sure about herself. Even a glancing touch from the ghost had been uncomfortable. What would it feel like if it went right through the middle of her? For all she knew, she could get electrocuted by this not-so-friendly ghost.
But if it meant getting out of this damn basement from hell, then she was willing to risk it.
She took a deep breath and was about to charge up the steps when she heard booted feet racing down them. Presley didn’t know if it was Logan or Mav or both of them. All she saw was the bright beam of a flashlight bouncing around. The next thing she knew, someone vaulted over the side of the railing to land on the floor with a loud thud right beside her.
Presley barely had time to realize it was Logan who had come to their rescue—complete with sawed-off shotgun in hand—before the ghost charged down the steps toward her. Logan moved faster than she would have thought possible, throwing himself in front of her, his shotgun at the ready. She had only a second to wonder what the hell good a shotgun was going to be against a ghost before Logan fired. She braced herself, waiting for the apparition to pass through Logan and give her another jolt, but to her amazement, the ghost disappeared in a flash of light.
Presley stared at the empty space where the ghost had been. She didn’t know it was possible to shoot a ghost, but Logan was swinging his shotgun left and right as if he expected to have to do it again.
He glanced over his shoulder at Robert. “Get Presley and Brielle out of here. Now!”
Whereas Presley couldn’t wait to get out of the basement before, now all she wanted to do was stay and see how Logan neutralized the ghost, but Brielle and Robert hustled her up the steps before she could protest. Now that she’d definitely confirmed the existence of ghosts—and confirmed they were the exact same thing she’d been seeing all along—she really needed to understand how to make them go away.
Mav was hurrying down from the second floor as they ran up from the basement. He stopped them long enough to ask what had happened before hustling down the stairs.
“Shouldn’t we stay to help?” Presley asked when Brielle and Robert started for the front door.
Robert shook his head. “Logan and Mav know what they’re doing. We’d only get in the way. They said go, so we go.”
“He’s right,” Brielle added when Presley hesitated. “Come on. We’ll be safer outside.”
Presley didn’t like the idea of leaving Logan and Mav alone with the ghost. They might be manly ghost hunters, but that apparition was a psychopath. She didn’t protest when Brielle urged her into the entryway and out the front door, though. Not even when Robert hustled them all the way out to the Hummer.
Too wired to sit inside, Presley leaned back against the SUV and chewed nervously on her lower lip. Neither Brielle nor Robert seemed to want to talk and even though her mind was whirling with questions, she didn’t press them for answers. In all honesty, she didn’t feel much like talking, either. She was too worried about Logan and Mav. Logan might not be her favorite person, but he had put himself between her and that ghost without hesitation. She’d feel terrible if something happened to him.
Suddenly, two shotgun blasts came from inside the house. Presley jumped. As the sound echoed in the night, she absently wondered why the cops hadn’t shown up. Surely someone would have heard them. Then again, there wasn’t another house in any direction for miles, so maybe there was no one around to hear. Or maybe they knew the place was haunted and didn’t care what the hell happened there.
So, they waited. And waited. Finally, Presley glanced at her watch. Logan and Mav had been in there with the ghost for almost half an hour. That was a long time to duke it out with a restless spirit, especially one so vicious. She’d give them ten more minutes, then she was going back in there, with or without Brielle and Robert for backup. Of course, she had no idea what she’d do when she got in there. She wondered if they had another one of those shotguns in the truck.
Luckily, though, Logan and Mav came out five minutes later. Although their hair was disheveled and their faces and clothes were smudged with dirt in places, both men looked unharmed. Presley sighed with relief.
“Is it gone?” she asked when they got to the Hummer.
Logan shook his head. “We burned all the sage and garlic bundles we had, salted the whole basement, invoked the sign of the cross on every wall and said every prayer both of us know, and I still don’t think the asshole is gone for good. We may need to get a priest in here for this one. That damn thing is dug in like a tick.”
Presley’s ears perked up at the mention of a priest. Was Logan talking about doing an exorcism?
Brielle folded her arms and gave both men an accusing glare. “You never said a ghost could do that. You said ghosts and people didn’t exist on the same plane, so we could never interact.”
Logan and Mav exchanged looks, then shook their head as they tossed their gear in the back of the SUV.
“You oversimplified what I said,” Logan said. “I told you most ghosts aren’t substantial enough to interact with humans because they exist halfway between our world and the next—right there at the Edge of Darkness. Some, like the one in there, seem to be able to slide back and forth. It’s rare, but it can happen. It has a lot to do with the kind of person the ghost was when it was alive. It’s likely that bastard was one mean asshole when he was on earth. Hell, he could have been a witch or even a demi-demon when he was alive. He refuses to go all the way across. Or maybe they don’t want him on that side, either.”
Presley blinked. “A witch or a demi-demon? You’re joking, right?”
Logan turned whiskey colored eyes on her, and for a moment, she thought he was going to actually give her a straight answer without all the sarcasm that usually came with it. But then his jaw tightened and he looked away.
“It’s been a long night and we’re all wiped out. Let’s head back,” he said quietly. “We’ll stop at a diner and grab dinner on the way. I’m buying.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, but instead slammed the back door of the Hummer and walked around to the front, leaving Presley and the others to follow. She had the sinking feeling Logan hadn’t been joking about witches or demi-demons existing and after the ghost encounter she’d had, she wasn’t foolish enough to discount the possibility other equally nasty things existed, too. Unfortunately, neither Logan nor anyone else seemed to want to talk about it.
Giving the old Victorian house one last look over her shoulder, Presley climbed in the back seat of the Hummer with Brielle and Robert. As they drove toward town, she kept replaying what had happened down in that basement over and over in her head. Ghosts were real—tonight had made that fact abundantly clear. That meant she wasn’t going insane; she was seeing the souls of dead people. And for some reason, she could see more of them than most people could. That fact couldn’t be disputed, either. She’d been able to see the woman in the basement much clearer than Brielle and Robert had, and obviously no one else in the hospital had seen all those ghosts but her.
So, what the hell was she going to do now? To think she’d believed all of them were making the whole thing up. She’d never felt more stupid and naïve in her life. She’d been completely wrong about everything. No wonder Logan didn’t have any patience for people like her.
Even though it was well after dinnertime, the diner they went to was surprisingly crowded and they were lucky to find a booth in the back big enough for all of them. Presley hadn’t been hungry when Logan first suggested grabbing something to eat
, but as soon as the smell of food hit her nose, she realized she was starving. Apparently, adrenaline surges could make a person hungry.
While she waited for the waitress to bring their meals, Presley sipped her iced tea and wondered how to get Logan and Mav to talk about what had happened back at the house. She needed to know more—know everything. But how could she get them to talk? It wasn’t like she could suddenly tell them she saw ghosts all the time.
To her surprise, Logan brought up the subject himself.
“Tell me what happened with the ghost before I got there?”
It was Robert who answered. “We were checking out the laundry room when we got a reading on the EMF meter. Then we hit a cold spot and the next thing we know, there’s a ghost standing there ironing clothes.”
Mav did a double take. “That son of a bitch was ironing clothes?”
Brielle gave him an exasperated look. “No. It was a female ghost. She was ironing clothes when he showed up.”
“What happened then?” Logan asked as the waitress set their burgers and fries on the table.
Brielle waited until the waitress left before answering. “He started yelling at the woman.”
Logan looked up from pouring ketchup on his fries. “You could hear them?”
“No, but it’s obvious that’s what he was doing.”
Presley picked up a salty fry and nibbled on it, too hungry to even wait for Mav to finish with the ketchup. “It was horrible to watch. The poor woman was so terrified of him. Then he picked up the iron and…” She shuddered at the memory. “I know Robert said they’re residual energy, but I couldn’t stand there and do nothing while he burned her or beat her or whatever it was he planned to with the thing, so I picked up a mop and hit him with it.”
Logan paused with his burger halfway to his mouth and gave her an incredulous look. “You hit him?”
She nodded. “It went right through him, but I thought it would interrupt the loop they were in.”
“That would explain why he came after you guys,” Mav remarked. “You pissed him off.”
“It wasn’t after Brielle and me,” Robert said. “I'm not even sure he was aware we were there. That thing wanted Presley. It passed through us fine, but every time it got close to her, it zapped her.”
Logan frowned and looked at Presley. “What do you mean, it zapped you?”
Presley shrugged. “It gave me a jolt, like I put my finger in an electrical socket. It didn’t hurt at first, but each time he got me, it got worse.”
At her words, Logan and Mav exchanged those enigmatic looks of theirs, but said nothing.
“Have you ever heard of anything like that before?” Robert prompted.
Both men shook their heads.
“How was it even possible for him to make physical contact with Presley?” Brielle asked. “That’s not normal, is it?”
Logan shook his head. “No.” He regarded Presley for a moment. “You might have a connection to the other side you don’t know about. You could be a medium.”
The words sent a chill down Presley’s back. The doctors at the hospital had told her she’d died twice on the night of Del Vecchio’s attack, once in her apartment with the paramedics and once in the operating room. She didn’t know if that was the kind of connection Logan was talking about, but she thought it might make for a good one. She didn’t say anything, though. If Logan could be secretive about his personal life, then so could she.
Keenly aware of everyone at the table looking at her, she dumped ketchup on her plate, then picked up her cheeseburger and dunked it in the puddle she’d made.
“Maybe it has nothing to do with a connection to the other side,” Mav said. “Maybe the ghost thought Presley was pretty and was trying to be charming. Maybe he has a thing for women with long, blond hair. Maybe he got his social skills from the same place Logan did.”
Logan gave him a sour look but didn’t say anything.
Presley suspected that was Mav’s way of trying to keep her from freaking out and would have laughed if she hadn’t been so unnerved by what he said. “That thing won’t follow me home, will it?”
Logan shook his head. “No. Almost all ghosts tend to stay in the place that held greatest meaning for them.”
“Except for that one out in Ohio,” Mav said. He dunked a few fries in the pile of ketchup to one side of his plate. “You remember him, the one that showed up everywhere that stupid antique mirror went?”
Logan thought a moment, then nodded. “Oh, yeah. And how about that one in Minneapolis that followed the thief who stole that jeweled pendant?”
Mav made a face. “Yeah, that one was messy.”
Presley’s brow furrowed. “You two aren’t making me feel any better, you know that, right?”
Mav gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry. But unlike those ghosts, the one back there clearly seems attached to the house. If we thought the ghost would follow you, we’d give you twenty-four-hour protection until we got rid of it for good.”
Presley was surprised at that. She didn’t know ghost hunters provided that kind of service. But then she got the feeling Logan and Mav weren’t the average run-of-the-mill ghost hunters.
She bit into her burger. It was juicy with the perfect amount of melty cheese. Now for something she really needed to know. “How do you go about getting rid of the ghost for good since the herbs and salt didn’t work?”
Logan wiped his mouth with a napkin. “We’re not completely sure our methods didn’t work, though you’re probably right. The next step is to get a priest in there to do an exorcism.”
“They actually do that?”
“Some of the older ones,” he said. “Mav and I have a few we’ve worked with before.”
There were priests who worked with ghost hunters? That was something she was sure the church didn't want to get out. While she was imagining white-collared priests running around the basement of that scary, old house, another question she wanted to ask came back to her. “What was up with the shotgun? I didn’t know you could shoot ghosts.”
“You can’t, at least not with regular shotgun shells,” Logan said. “Ours are filled with a mixture of rock salt and hematite. Ghosts hate salt of any kind and the iron in the hematite screws up the electromagnetic field the ghost is made up of.”
“Huh. How’d you figure that out?”
He shrugged. “Just something we picked up along the way.”
Presley was surprised Logan was being so forthcoming. Salt and hematite—now that was something she could use. She wasn’t sure buying a shotgun was in her future, but it might be an option. Since he was in such a sharing mood, she figured she’d ask him some more general stuff about what made ghosts tick. While he didn’t reveal anything about his personal life—shocking—he at least answered her questions without being his usual sarcastic self.
By the time they left the diner, it was after nine and they still had a two-hour ride back to Sleepy Hollow. Even though it was late when they finally pulled the Hummer into the garage, Presley stayed to help them unload everything.
“You’re still coming by tomorrow, right?” Brielle asked after they’d finished.
Presley nodded as she dug in her purse for her keys. “I was. If that’s okay, I mean.” She glanced over at Logan to see what his reaction was, but he was busy over by the storage lockers and didn’t even look as if he’d heard her.
“Sure it is.” Brielle grinned. “Besides, you paid for a whole weekend of ghost hunting.”
Presley hoped the rest of the weekend proved as educational as tonight had been—maybe not as eventful—but hopefully not as scary. Giving Brielle a wave, she told the men to have a good night and headed for the door.
“Presley,” Logan called.
She stopped and turned to give him a questioning look. She hoped he didn’t make an issue about her coming tomorrow because she was too tired to argue with him.
“Are you going to be okay driving back to Stamford?” he asked. “Afte
r what happened tonight, I mean.”
She blinked in surprise, taken aback by his show of his concern. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
He nodded. “Okay. Be careful, though. It’s late.”
“I will.”
The thirty-minute drive back to her sister’s apartment seemed a lot longer in the dark and Presley was exhausted by the time she got there. She felt weak as a kitten these days. Yawning, she tossed her keys on the table in the entryway, then went around the apartment turning on all the lights before going into the kitchen to heat some water for tea. Although she would like to go straight to bed, she wanted to write down some of the stuff they had talked about at the diner while it was still fresh in her mind.
She changed out of her jeans and T-shirt, then put on her usual shorts and a tank top. Ten minutes later, she was curled up on the couch with a cup of hot tea and her laptop, typing away furiously on her journal. It felt good to get all her thoughts down in print. Especially the part that said You aren’t insane. You’re really seeing ghosts.
She was halfway through her notes about the ghost encounter in Delhi when she felt a shiver run down her back. Stiffening, she looked around, half expecting to see the apparition from the haunted house standing there in the living room. To her relief, it was empty. Shaking her head at her foolishness, she went back to typing. As she typed, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched. It occurred to her then that the middle of the night probably wasn’t the best time to be writing scary ghost stuff in her journal. Quickly finishing up, she shut off her laptop and rinsed out her mug, then went to get ready for bed.
She was brushing her teeth when her cell phone rang. She jumped at the sound, almost swallowing her toothpaste. Crap, she was on edge tonight. Then again, she was always on edge lately.
Spitting out what was left of the toothpaste, she quickly rinsed her mouth, then ran in the bedroom to grab her phone. Thinking it was probably her sister or parents calling to check on her, she didn’t bother looking at the screen before putting it to her ear.