by Paige Tyler
Acting on instinct, she grabbed the first thing within reach—an unlit candle on a metal stand—and threw it at the creature. The candle didn’t stop the ghoul, but it did deflect its flight path enough so that the creature landed three feet to the left of her instead of right on top of her.
Knowing she’d never be able to defend herself against them without some kind of weapon, Presley raced around to the back of the altar and grabbed the only likely looking weapon—a crucifix attached to a long, metal pole. God forgive me, she thought. As she picked it up, it came out of the floor stand in which it had been sitting, much to her chagrin. She’d hoped the heavy stand would have been attached, but no such luck.
She whirled around, holding the cross up in front of her like a weapon. Two of the ghouls had already leapt atop the altar and were glaring down at her. Damn, she hadn’t thought about them doing that. So much for keeping the altar between her and them. At least the third ghoul was still on the floor. As it came around the altar, she noticed it was moving a little slower than it had before. Maybe it was the one she’d whacked with the candle stand and it was now a little leery of her. She hoped so, because if they all came at her at once, this was going to be over before it started.
Suddenly, one of the ghouls on the altar launched itself at her. She instinctively threw up the metal cross, hoping to deflect the creature away like she had the one before. But when the ghoul came into contact with the crucifix on top of the stand, it reacted as if it had been hit by lightning, howling and twisting itself in midair to get away from the cross. The creature landed awkwardly on the floor, rolling halfway to the first set of pews before springing back to its feet. It stood there regarding her with a mix of fury and fear in its beady, black eyes.
So, ghouls don’t like crucifixes, huh?
That was interesting. She wondered why Logan hadn’t mentioned it. Maybe he didn’t know. He’d faced ghouls only once himself and that had been in a New York City sewer. Crucifixes probably weren’t in great supply down there.
With the two ghouls on the floor still eyeing her warily, Presley turned her attention to the one still standing on the altar. She’d hoped after seeing what happened to its buddy when it had hit the crucifix, this one would think twice about attacking her. She was wrong. The third ghoul threw itself at her just as eagerly as the other one had.
She wasn’t nearly as shy about defending herself this time. She rammed the cross right into the ghoul’s belly, letting the creature’s momentum carry it the rest of the way. It sailed over her head and slammed into the wall behind her with a screech that made her ears hurt. When it dropped to the floor, it laid there for several long seconds before it finally pushed itself to its feet. It looked mad as hell, but it also looked scared, too.
Presley backed up until she was against the stone wall. She didn’t want those nasty, little things getting behind her. When they made no move toward her, she thought for one triumphant moment the ghouls might actually give up and run back to wherever it was they’d come from with their proverbial tails between their legs. Instead, they did something she hadn’t expected.
All three threw themselves at her at once.
It was all she could do to keep her back to the wall and the cross out in front of her as they came at her again and again. Every time she hit one of them, another was there to take its place. But each time she connected with the cross, they would scream in pain and slow down a little bit more.
Unfortunately, she was slowing down, too. Keeping the ghouls at bay came at a price and within minutes, her arms were so heavy she could barely lift them, much less the heavy, metal cross. Her breathing was coming in huge gasps that made her lungs hurt and the scar over left breast was burning like there was a white-hot poker pressed against it. She wasn’t sure she could take much more of this.
She wasn’t sure her makeshift weapon was going to be able to take much more, either. The crucifix had never been meant to be a cudgel and it was taking a beating. Not only was the pole the crucifix was mounted on scarred thanks to repeated strikes from those monstrous claws, but both horizontal bars of the cross were almost bent completely backward. On top of that, the metal figure of Jesus was hanging on by a thread. That worried her the most. If the crucifix broke, its power to hurt the ghouls might be gone, too.
Then something happened to give her momentary hope. One of the ghouls broke away from the others and headed back toward the hallway. It was running away. She was winning.
Triumph quickly turned to horror when she saw the ghoul slide to a stop in front of the confessional where she’d hidden Father Benny and rip at the door in a frenzy. The damn creature hadn’t been running away. It had been going after easier prey. The heavy door was no match for the ghoul’s sharp claws and the wood flew apart with ridiculous ease. Presley watched in horror as the priest tumbled out onto the floor. The ghoul threw her a superior look, then hooted with glee as it reached for the defensive old man.
Presley screamed in rage and tried to get around the two monsters in front of her so she could defend the priest, but the creatures must have guessed her intent because they threw themselves between her and the only avenue of escape, renewing their attack with added energy.
From the corner of her eye, Presley saw the ghoul that had Father Benny at its mercy reach down and pick up the priest’s leg. Opening its mouth wide to expose dozens of glistening white fangs, it lunged toward the old man’s thigh.
At the same time, one of the ghouls she was fighting reached out with one clawed hand and snapped the figure of Jesus completely off the crucifix. Presley’s heart plummeted.
Knowing she had nothing left to lose, she threw the worthless metal shaft at the ghoul preparing to feast on Father Benny. If probably wouldn’t do more than give the priest a few seconds respite, but she had to try and do something to save the old man. Of course, without a weapon, she was as defenseless as he was now. Something told her the ghouls weren’t going to give her the chance to find another.
The metal shaft she’d thrown went wide of its mark and Presley slumped against the wall, bracing herself as she prepared for the worst.
But then the ghoul about to sink its teeth into the priest’s leg simply turned to dust. A second later, she heard the boom of a shotgun.
Presley’s heart soared at the sound. She looked up to see Logan pumping another shell into the gun as he ran toward her.
The two remaining ghouls weren’t going to go without a fight. One of them leaped onto the altar and threw itself at Logan, while the one still on the floor launched itself at her. She heard the shotgun go off as she threw up her arms to protect herself and knew there was no way Logan would have time to shoot both ghouls.
As the creature flew through the air toward her, Presley’s mind rebelled. She’d made it this far but was going to die with salvation only a few steps away. It wasn’t fair. The worst part was knowing Logan was going to blame himself for her death.
Then, right as the ghoul was about to tear into her with its claws, a blur slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. She gasped as the air was knocked out of her, expecting to slam into the floor, but that same blur spun her around in midair so that she landed on something only slightly less hard than the stone floor—Logan’s chest.
His shotgun went off right beside her head and through the ringing in her ears, she felt a rain of dirt sift down on her from above.
Just that fast, the fight with the ghouls was over.
Exhausted and relieved, she collapsed onto the hard, heaving chest of the man who’d saved her life—again. As she lay there, she realized her own chest was doing a little heaving of its own. Even though her lungs hurt from exertion, it felt damn good to lay there and breathe in the air of life.
Beneath her, Logan’s heart was beating hard enough for her to feel it, and it suddenly occurred to her that he must have been doing some serious exertion of his own to get to her in time. He smelled of sweat and dirt, a combination which was surprisingly good o
n him. Or maybe she was simply so grateful to be alive, she only thought it did.
Presley lifted her head to thank him for saving her life, but the moment her eyes locked with his, the words kind of got stuck. This was the first time she’d been this close to Logan. Well, except for when he’d swung her up in his arms and carried her out of her apartment last night. But she had been too preoccupied with the ghost trying to kill her to think about how wonderful Logan’s arms felt around her. Then there was this morning when she’d woken up in his arms. But she’d been so embarrassed about falling asleep and drooling on him to pay attention to anything else. Now that she was stretched out tightly on top of him with almost every inch of her body pressed up against his, she couldn’t help but notice all the things she hadn’t the other two times she’d been this close to him. Like the green flecks in his golden-brown eyes and the barely discernible scar on his chin. Or how thick and sooty his lashes were. And how perfectly tempting his mouth was.
Her pulse quickened. She knew it was absolutely the wrong time to be thinking about such things—not to mention the wrong place—but she couldn’t help it. Logan was built like a Greek god, only more muscular. Although she was pretty sure the hardness she felt pressing into her tummy had nothing to do with muscles and everything to do with another part of his anatomy.
Presley wet her lips with her tongue as her gaze was drawn to his mouth again. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Despite the fact that she’d almost gotten killed by a pack of ghouls a few minutes ago—and that poor Father Benny was definitely in need of some serious medical attention—the urge to feel Logan’s mouth on hers was too powerful to resist. She had to kiss him.
She bent her head to do just that when she heard a loud groan coming from the direction of the confessional. She hesitated, torn between ignoring the sound and jumping up to tend to the old man.
“You two alive over there?”
Logan let out a sigh that made her think he was as disappointed as she was they’d been interrupted.
“Yes, Father,” he called. “We’re alive over here.”
CHAPTER NINE
LOGAN’S MIND WAS still reeling when he and Presley got back to his place later that night. A lot had gone down at the church earlier and he wasn’t quite such what part dumbfounded him more. That Presley had been able to hold off three man-eating ghouls on her own or that he’d wanted nothing more than to pull her down for a kiss when she’d been lying on top of him after the big, dramatic rescue.
While he and Presley had tended to Father Benny’s wounds after they had gotten up from the floor, she’d given him a detailed rundown of everything that had happened when he’d been down in the tunnels. He wasn’t sure he would have believed her story if he hadn’t seen her fighting those two ghouls with his own eyes. He was amazed at how resourceful she was. He’d never heard about a crucifix having any power over a ghoul, but he was sure as hell going to get that little tidbit of information out to the other hunters he knew. While using the crucifix had been impressive, hiding Father Benny in the confessional, then leading the ghouls away from him so they would go after her instead had been even more remarkable.
Logan had already known she was a strong woman. The fact that she’d survived two of Del Vecchio’s attacks told him that much. But to willingly put herself in harm’s way to protect a man she’d only met a few minutes before proved she possessed more courage and tenacity then he would have ever thought possible. He knew a lot of cops an even some hunters who weren’t nearly that brave. Or that selfless. And to think she was a school counselor. After tonight, he was beginning to wonder if she was in the wrong line of work. She’d make one hell of a hunter.
Then there was the perplexing matter of Father Benny’s infection. According to both Presley and the priest, the bite marks on his arm had been bleeding profusely and oozing green puss before the ghouls’ attack. But by the time Logan and Presley had untangled themselves from each other and checked the old man’s wounds, the infection had completely disappeared. Father Benny hadn’t even wanted to go to the hospital. Presley insisted the priest see a doctor, so they’d personally driven him to the emergency room themselves.
Logan couldn’t figure out how an infection as nasty as Father Benny’s had seemingly cured itself. All he could come up with was that the infection had somehow been tied to the ghouls. When he’d dusted the creatures, it must have destroyed the priest’s infection along with them. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but it was one more thing he needed to put out on the hunter network.
But while Presley’s prowess in combat and the priest’s miraculous recovery were incredible, they paled in comparison to the issue that really had Logan’s head spinning, which was the almost overwhelming desire he’d had to kiss Presley back at the church. It had been over two hours since they’d left Fishkill and the only thing he could think about was how it had felt to have her soft, womanly body on top of his.
When he crawled out of the hole in the floor of the storage room, he’d expected to find his worst fears realized. That Presley had been killed by the ghouls. Then he had heard the sounds of fighting coming from inside the chapel. He’d been so damn relieved to see she was still alive that when they had ended up lying there on the floor behind the altar together, her tummy pressed against his crotch, her soft breasts tight against his chest, it had definitely done a number on him. He’d been half a second away from kissing her when Father Benny had interrupted him.
His reaction to being so close to Presley wasn’t surprising, really. She was supermodel gorgeous with a body to match and it had been a hell of a long time since he’d been with a woman as beautiful as she was for more than a few hours at a time. For good reason, too. In his line of work, getting involved with a woman as anything more than a one-night stand only led to problems. And problems like that could get one or both of them killed at some point.
As he pulled the Hummer into the garage, he shifted in the driver’s seat to ease the ache in his rapidly hardening cock. What had happened between them—or almost happened—back at the church was in the past. Presley was depending on him to keep her alive and he couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted. Del Vecchio’s ghost might not have made an appearance in almost twenty-four hours, but Logan had no doubt the shithead was still out there waiting for him to slip up and leave Presley vulnerable. Something he wasn’t going to do.
Inside, Logan glanced at Presley as he tossed the duffel bag with his shotgun on the floor beside the couch. “You mind if I hit the shower first?”
She shook her head. “No. Go ahead.”
Normally, he would have done the gentlemanly thing and offered to let her clean up first, but he needed to soak himself in cold water long enough to get his mind right and his hard-on to go away. Fortunately, standing under the icy spray of the shower did both those things and by the time he dried off and threw on a change of clothes ten minutes later, he was back in hunter mode.
While Presley took her turn in the shower, Logan called the hunters he’d been talking to the night before and explained what he’d discovered at the funeral home. They suggested digging into the background of the people who worked there on the off chance maybe one of them had nabbed the body. As messed up as that sounded, Logan knew it wasn’t so far-fetched. Del Vecchio was a famous serial killer, so his body parts would probably bring a good price on the black market. He hoped that wasn’t the case. If Del Vecchio’s body had been separated into little pieces and was sitting in cryogenic suspension all across the world, how the hell were they going to find his ass and burn it?
Logan was finishing up on the phone when Presley came out of the bedroom. She was wearing the same tank top and shorts she’d had on last night and the sight of all those curves and bare skin had his cock going hard all over again. Damn, what the hell was it about her that had him reacting like this? No other woman he’d known had ever knocked him off his game so badly.
He set his cell phone down on the count
er. “I was about to grab a beer. You want something.”
She nodded. “I’ll have a soda.”
Logan opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of each. When he turned to head into the living room, he saw that Presley had followed him into the kitchen and was now leaning back against the counter. He didn’t know if she was deliberately trying to look sexy or not, but it was having the desired effect on him anyway.
Presley took the bottle of soda but didn’t open it. She toyed with the cap for a moment, then set it down on the counter. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for saving my life last night.”
Logan opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Carrying on an intelligent conversation with her half-naked and lounging against the counter would be asking too much of any man. Especially since the flashback of her lying on top of him in bed that morning had him coming up with all sorts of X-rated ways he’d love for her to thank him. His cock hardened even more at the images going through his head and he stifled a groan.
“Thank you,” she said.
Logan opened his mouth to try again, but then she ran her tongue over her luscious lips and he completely forgot what he was going to say. Hell, with the way she was looking at him right then, he wasn’t sure he could remember his own name, much less talk. All he could think about was what it would be like to kiss her.
Pick up your beer and go into the living room before this goes somewhere it shouldn’t. Like the bedroom.
But for some reason, his body didn’t seem to want to listen to what his head had to say about the situation, because one minute he was gazing into Presley’s eyes and the next, his mouth was on hers.
He had no idea what her reaction would be, but when Presley melted against him, her hands sliding up the front of his shirt to grasp his shoulders and pull him closer, he got the feeling she’d been wanting this as much as he had. Logan groaned and buried a hand in her long hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her more thoroughly. She parted her lips, giving him an all-access pass to what she had to offer, and he took advantage of it, plunging his tongue into her mouth and tangling it with hers.