by Paige Tyler
“Do you think the funeral director could be lying?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. That guy seemed genuinely affronted when I implied they might have screwed up. If Del Vecchio’s body was cremated, it’s possible we aren’t dealing with a ghost at all.”
Her brow furrowed. “What else could he be then?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Logan admitted.
Presley chewed on her lower lip as she studied Logan’s profile. “What if you can’t figure out what he is? What if you can’t find a way to stop him?”
Logan turned his head to look at her. “I’ll figure out what he is. That’s what I do. And when I find out, I’ll deal with him.” She must not have looked very convinced because Logan reached across the console to cover her hand with his and give it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise.”
Presley desperately wanted to believe him, but some terrified part of her was worried Logan might not ever figure out what Del Vecchio was and wouldn’t be able to deal with him at all. She’d be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life. However short that might be.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“SO, WHAT DO we do now?” Presley asked as Logan pulled out of the parking lot.
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Go home and hit the books again. There’s got to be something in one of them to give me an idea what the hell Del Vecchio is and how to get rid of his ass.” Logan looked like he was about to say more but his cell phone rang. He muttered a curse under his breath and dug in his pocket for his phone. “I gotta get this. It’s the emergency number.”
That would explain why the ring tone sounded like a fire alarm going off. Presley hadn’t realized there was such a demand for emergency ghost busting that Logan needed a special ring tone to let him know when a call came in.
“Malone,” Logan said into the phone. “Hey, Father. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay at the church?”
It was strange only listening to one side of a conversation like this, especially considering Logan’s line of work.
“Last night? Are you okay?” Logan paused as he listened to the man’s reply. “Yeah, I have a pretty good idea what they were and you were right to worry. Why didn’t you call me earlier?” Another pause. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Father. Just lock yourself in that back room…Yeah, the one without any windows…I’ll yell out when I get there.”
“What is it?” Presley asked when he hung up.
“This priest I know up in Fishkill has a situation at his church I’m going to need to take care of.” He glanced at his watch. “Damn. It’s going to be dark soon and I need to get up there before the sun goes down, but I wanted to drop you off at my place first.”
Presley had never been to Fishkill, but she knew where it was and that Logan would have to go far out of his way to take her back to his house. It would add at least another hour onto the drive. “Why don’t I just go with you?”
He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
“And sitting around your house hoping a serial-killing ghost can’t find a way past all that metal is any safer?”
Logan’s mouth tightened and for a moment she thought he might argue, but then he nodded. “Okay, you can come with me, but you have to do exactly what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. No arguing. This isn’t a ghost were dealing with.”
“What is it?”
He did a quick U-turn, then floored the Hummer. It took off with a roar. “From the way Father Benny described them, it sounds like he’s got a pack of ghouls hanging around.”
Her brow creased. “I thought ghoul was just another name for a ghost?”
Logan let out a snort. “Not even close. Ghouls are nasty, little creeps with lots of teeth that like to inhabit graveyards, landfills, and abandoned buildings. Any place they can find dead bodies. The older the corpses, the better.”
Presley would have thought that after all the things she’d seen and heard about in the last few days, she wouldn’t be surprised by anything but she was. “I hesitate to ask what they do with the dead bodies.”
“They eat them.”
She made a face. “Okay, why did I know you were going to say that? That’s disgusting.”
What the heck was wrong with her? Logan had just told her they were heading to a church inhabited with vicious, little monsters that ate dead people and all she could say was that it was disgusting? She’d been hanging out with him and his team of ghost hunters too long. Either that or seeing Del Vecchio again had unhinged her mind. She didn’t even want to think about that.
“So, how do you know Father Benny?” she asked Logan to get her mind on something else.
“I helped him out about two years back with a really tenacious hellhound that kept trying to make its den in one of the buildings on his property,” Logan explained. “I thought I’d seen the last of him, but apparently a pack of ghouls showed up in the church’s cemetery late last night and decided they wanted to make it their new home sweet home. Father Benny scared them away, but he’s worried they’ll come back, which they almost certainly will. Ghouls are stubborn as hell once they decide they want to live in a place.”
“Why didn’t he call you last night?”
Logan shook his head. “Because he couldn’t find my business card. He’s not very savvy when it comes to the Internet and we’re not in the phone book, so he had to dig through piles of papers in his office to find the damn thing before he could call me. I would have preferred looking for these things in the daylight. They’re stronger and harder to see at night.”
“Maybe they’ll leave now that they know Father Benny’s seen them,” Presley suggested.
“I wouldn’t bet on it. I’ve only dealt with them once before, in the sewers of New York City. They can be pretty damn brash if they feel there’s a good food source worth laying claim to. They won’t leave unless they’re forced to.”
Presley chewed on her lower lip as she considered that. “I don’t suppose the priest could simply feed them table scraps, could he? They sound like all they want is food.”
Logan gave her an incredulous look. “Presley, these aren’t cute, little cuddly fur balls like Gizmo from Gremlins. They’re vicious killers the size of baboons. They can dig and tunnel through the earth like a machine, they’re strong enough to rip open a concrete coffin enclosure, and their teeth are sharp enough and powerful enough to crush any bone in the human body. Don’t ask me how I know this, but I can tell you for a fact that they particularly love to chew the marrow out of thigh bones. While they prefer their meat long dead, they have no problem killing humans and stuffing them in a dry hole for a few months until they season a little bit.” He glanced in the side mirror and changed lanes. “That’s the situation I dealt with in New York City. A large pack of ghouls moved into the sewers and started killing homeless people and leaving their bodies all over the place. When the city workers tried to move the bodies, the ghouls killed them, too. They murdered a dozen people in less than two weeks.”
“Oh God, that’s horrible.” Presley had a soft spot for all animals, so she naturally thought the ghouls were poor, misunderstood creatures that were merely hungry. Apparently not.
“Yeah, it was,” Logan agreed. “It took Mav and me days of stomping through the sewers to find all the bodies. We broke up the pack and took care of as many ghouls as we could. The rest took off.”
Presley wondered if they were the same ghouls that were currently trying to make their home at the church but didn’t mention it to Logan.
By the time they arrived at the sanctuary, the sun was already slipping below the horizon. It threw long shadows across the cemetery behind the small church, making the mausoleums and statues look even more spooky and surreal. Presley got out of the SUV and followed Logan around to the back of it, then stood there nervously shifting from one foot to the other while he dug through his duffel bags.
A cool breeze stirred her hair, making her shi
ver, and she threw a worried glance over her shoulder, half expecting to see a pack of vicious ghouls about to attack. She didn’t know how Logan could comb the graveyard looking for them. He was much braver than she was, that was for sure.
She tore her gaze away from the cemetery and turned to see Logan loading his shotgun.
“You can shoot them with rock salt like you do ghosts?” she asked.
He glanced at her as he reached for another shell. “No. These are filled with sand. Ghouls originally came to our world by way of Persian sorcery, so they’re tied to the sands of Arabia, just like genies. Sand keeps them connected to this world, but it can also send them back to theirs. One blast from a shotgun shell filled with desert sand and they lose their bodily form. When that happens, they have no choice but to scurry back to their own dimension.”
Presley wanted to ask how he knew all of the stuff he did but decided now wasn’t the best time for chit-chat. She could ask him later. At the moment, she was just happy Logan knew what the hell he was doing.
Logan grabbed a handful of shells in both hands and shoved them in his coat pockets, then picked up the shotgun.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the church.
* * * * *
Presley wondered how they were going to get in but realized when Logan opened the big double doors that the priest must have left them unlocked. The church was dimly lit inside, but she could see well enough to make out the wooden pews with their ornate scrollwork and the hand-carved plaques on the walls depicting the Stations of the Cross. Thankfully, there were no ghouls in sight.
“I told Father Benny to wait for us in the back,” Logan said, looking left and right as he led her down the aisle and around the back of the altar. “Hopefully he locked himself in like I told him to do.”
Stopping in front of a nondescript wood door, Logan knocked on it. “Father Benny. It’s me. You in there?”
From inside, Presley could hear the sound of a latch being unlocked. A moment later, the door opened. Father Benny was an elderly man with kind blue eyes, white hair and a cane, which he leaned on heavily as he moved. He kept his other arm cradled against his side and Presley saw that it was wrapped in bandages.
Logan saw them, too. His brows drew together. “Did one of those things bite you, Father?”
The older man sighed even as he waved away Logan’s concern. “Oh yes, but it’s only a flesh wound. It was my fault, really. I heard a noise in the cemetery last night and when I went to check it out, one of the blasted things latched onto my arm. At first, I thought it was a mad dog or a wild animal, but when I saw the black, beady eyes and sharp teeth, I realized it was something not of this world. Something evil. And I knew I had to call you.”
Presley wasn’t sure about the bite on the priest’s arm only being a flesh wound. Blood looked like it was already starting to seep through the bandages. From the flicker of concern in Logan’s eyes, he’d noticed it, too.
“I’m glad you did, Father,” he said. “Tell me exactly where you saw the things.”
As Father Benny described the layout of the cemetery, explaining where he’d encountered the ghouls and where he thought they might be hiding, Presley wondered how Logan was going to navigate the place in the dark, much less find the exact spot where the priest had seen them. She’d need a map—or at the very least a flashlight. Logan, however, was nodding as if he was completely comfortable with the idea of wandering around in the graveyard at night. Considering what he did for a living, she supposed he probably was.
“Okay, I’ll go see how bad of an infestation you have, Father,” Logan said when the priest finished. “If there are only a few of these things, I’ll be able to take them out with no problem. But if the pack is larger, the only thing I can do is try to take out the leader. Usually that will send the rest of them underground until they select a new one. That will give me a chance to get some backup in here to help me out.” He looked from Father Benny to Presley. “No matter what, I want both of you to stay in this room and keep the door locked. Is that clear?”
Logan didn’t wait for a reply and Presley caught his arm as he turned to leave the room.
“Are you sure you should go out there alone?” she asked. “Maybe you should call Mav and get him to help you.”
“Mav is up in Maine on another job,” he said. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with these things before, remember?”
“I know, but what if there are more of those things than you can handle by yourself? Maybe I should go with you.”
She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of going outside with those things around, but it seemed risky for Logan to go by himself. If nothing else she could watch his back and warn him if one of those ghouls tried to jump him. Then again, if she did, who would watch her back?
The corner of his mouth edged up. “I appreciate the thought, but I’d feel better knowing you’re safe.”
Presley opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it again. It would do no good anyway. Logan wasn’t going to let her go out there with him. Even if he did, she’d probably only end up getting in the way.
“Okay,” she agreed. “But promise me you’ll be careful.”
He flashed her a grin. “I always am. Now, remember to lock the door after I leave.”
She did as he instructed, then leaned back against the door with a sigh. Even though she knew Logan could take care of himself, she was worried about him anyway. He had said the ghouls liked to feed off the dead, but one of them had already bitten Father Benny and all he’d done was walk into the cemetery. She didn’t even want to think about what they might do to Logan when he started shooting at them.
Presley looked over at Father Benny. He was sitting on a folding chair, his cane propped up against the wall beside him.
He smiled kindly at her. “It’s so nice to finally meet Logan’s girlfriend.”
“His girlfriend?” She blinked, completely taken aback by the priest’s assumption. Then she laughed. “Oh no, I’m not his girlfriend. I’m actually a client. He’s keeping me safe from a very nasty ghost.”
“Ah, I see.” The priest gave her an apologetic look. “Forgive me. Logan seemed so concerned for you, and you for him, that I just naturally thought you were a couple.” His blue eyes twinkled. “You would make a very good couple, you know.”
She and Logan a couple? Presley didn’t quite know what to say to that. Logan was gorgeous, that was true. Not to mention great to have around when there was a ghost hell bent on trying to kill her. And she couldn’t deny she was attracted to him. But two days ago, she’d thought he was a jerk. Although she had changed her mind about that, she wasn’t sure she was ready to admit he was boyfriend material quite yet. The guy did hunt supernatural creatures for a living, after all. It wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five job. Or the safest. She wasn’t the type to sit at home and keep his dinner warm every time he went out on some emergency call. She’d drive herself crazy worrying about him. Just like she was worrying about him now.
Presley realized the priest was probably waiting for her to say something, but when she turned her attention back to the older man, she got distracted by the amount of blood seeping through the bandages on his arm.
“Your arm is bleeding really bad, Father,” she said. “Maybe I should take a look at it for you.”
The priest glanced down at his arm and frowned. “Oh dear, it is bleeding, isn’t it? Blasted creatures. If you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate you looking at it.” He gave her a chagrined smile. “I’m not very good when it comes to first aid, I’m afraid.”
She didn’t want to admit she wasn’t very good at it, either. But she was concerned the wound might be infected since it was bleeding again. Besides, checking Father Benny’s arm would help take her mind off Logan and what was happening outside.
Kneeling down in front of the priest, she gently unwrapped the bandages. The skin underneath was red and angry looking, but it was the sight of the bite marks that
made her gasp. Blood made her queasy at the best of times and she felt her stomach churn as the acrid smell of putrefaction reached her nose. She’d never seen anything like the wounds on his arm. He hadn’t been bitten. He’d been mauled. Why the heck hadn’t he gone to the hospital right away?
“Oh dear,” Father Benny said weakly. “It looks so much worse than it did last night. There were only a few scratches then.”
That answered the question of why he hadn’t gone to the hospital when it first happened. She lifted her head to look at him. “Do you have any more bandages?”
What he really needed was a doctor but bandaging it up again was the best she could do until she and Logan could get him to one.
The priest shook his head. “Not in here.”
Of course there wouldn’t be any bandages in there. They were in a storage room, for heaven’s sake.
“Okay, I’ll just reuse these then,” she told him.
Wishing she remembered more of what she’d learned in the basic first-aid class she’d taken in college, Presley wrapped the sodden bandages around the priest’s arm the best she could. When she was done, she looked up and saw that his face had suddenly gone ashen. He looked like he was going to pass out.
“Father, are you feeling okay?”
He started to nod, but then stopped. His brow furrowed. “Actually, now that you mention it, I am feeling a little faint.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before his eyes drifted closed and he slumped forward in his chair.
Presley caught him just as he fell. Fortunately, he wasn’t that heavy, so she was able to slow him down on the way to the floor. Hoping the older man had only passed out, she gently rolled him onto his back, then checked his pulse and his breathing. Both were surprisingly steady.
Relieved he was still alive, she got to her feet and looked around for a phone, but then remembered they were in a storeroom. She’d left her purse in the Hummer, so there was no cell phone, either. Dammit.