by Jane Hinchey
“You’re really here.” I breathed, taking a tentative step toward him. I wanted to run into his arms, wanted to breathe in his scent, but I held back. He was a ghost. The chances of being held in his arms were slim I told myself.
He beckoned me closer and I went. The closer I got the more corporeal he became. His smile was big and wide.
“You sure have grown Sugarplum.” I stood in front of him, blinking rapidly to dispel the tears from my eyes.
“You haven’t changed,” I whispered. Which made sense one part of my brain chided me. Ghosts didn’t age.
“We don’t have much time.” He told me, brushing my hair back from my face. I closed my eyes, remembering the caress. I breathed in deep through my nose and there it was, the scent of him, the one I remembered and missed desperately. He was tobacco and old spice, chocolate and rum. He was my Grandpa. A tear I couldn’t contain spilled down my cheek and he wiped it away.
“Ah Rae, it pains me to see you upset.”
“I’m not upset, I’m happy.” I protested and he chuckled, “sure you are.”
“We don’t have much time but I need to say this,” he clutched both of my hands in his and looked intently into my eyes, “I’m proud of you Sugarplum. Bad things happened, bad things were done to you but look at the woman you’ve grown into. You are magnificent.”
“How can you be proud?” I whispered, “I got you killed.”
“You? What happened was not your fault Rae. Never. But it was more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Setup.” His image shimmered, like a bad signal on a television.
“You’re saying the vampires were sent to kill us?”
“Me.” He placed his hand on his chest, “not you.”
“Who?” He was fading fast. He turned and put his hand on the empty bookcase. “below.” It was a whisper on the wind, followed by “love you” and then he was gone.
“Grandpa!” I woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed and looking around as if expecting to find him standing there. Bear, who’d been sleeping on the floor by the side of my bed, thumped his tail. Jumping out of bed I flew down the stairs and into the den. Flicking on the light I blinked until my eyes adjusted, then crossed to the empty bookcase. He’d said below. I was convinced Grandpa had sent me a message – why would I have such a strange dream, a dream that had felt so real, now? But what did he mean, below? How does that relate to a bookcase?
I felt along each of the shelves, the sides, pressing, searching for hidden compartments. He’d said below. Did that mean something was underneath the bookcase? Grabbing one side of it I began to drag it, pushing and sweating until it was standing out from the wall. There was nothing beneath it but on the wall? Five planks of wood were nailed in a row. They didn’t go all the way up, just to waist height. Reaching out I grabbed the end plank and smiled when I saw the bottom wasn’t anchored to anything. A hidden door of sorts. Pushing against the planks I squinted inside – it was dark and I couldn’t see a thing, but I could smell dirt and dust. Grandpa had a secret room!
“Well. That was unexpected.” I said to Bear, who’d followed and been sitting patiently watching me the entire time. “We need a light.”
Summoning my flame, I moulded it into a ball above my palm.
“There’s nothing bad down there is there?” I asked Bear, who tilted his head and looked at me with his big brown eyes. “You’d sense it wouldn’t you boy?” I was pretty sure whatever secret Grandpa was hiding it didn’t contain anything dangerous to me otherwise Bear would be kicking up a fuss. Instead, he was curious but calm. It reassured me. Squatting I pushed aside the planks and wriggled my way inside. It was cramped, the opening was about three feet high by two feet wide – it would have been a tight squeeze for a man of Grandpa’s size. I swung my hand around, the fireball illuminating the space, saw a symbol carved into a wooden beam and touched it. Nothing happened, and I chided myself for expecting it to. This was not an Indiana Jones movie, touching a symbol carved into a piece of wood was not going to trigger a sequence of events that resulted in a massive boulder rolling through the house.
Chuckling at my childish expectations I continued to scan the small space and then I spied it – the top of a ladder. Leading down. How had Grandpa managed all of this? Shuffling forward I manoeuvred myself onto the ladder and began the climb down. The wooden frame gave way to rock that looked like it had been chiselled out by hand. I counted twenty rungs on the ladder – the tunnel was deep and then it opened out into…a cavern of sorts.
Jumping down the last couple of feet I stood and held my hand out, increasing the size of the fireball for more light. The cavern was round, the walls relatively smooth. The floor was dirt and I noticed scorch marks – a lot of scorch marks – around the…was this a cave? Grandpa had a fire demon cave!
Bear leapt down, landing in a puff of dust by my side and I patted his head.
“Did you know this was here boy?” I asked. He began sniffing around the cave, ignoring me, the lure of a new scent much worthy of his attention.
I slowly examined the cave, it had to be at least twenty feet across, along the sides were a few wooden boxes stacked on top of each other, and pushed up against one side was a workbench and stool. Sitting on the benchtop was an oil lamp, papers, a cup. I remembered sitting on the back porch with Grandma and Grandpa when I was little and them showing me how oil lamps worked – they’d kept one on the back porch. I ran my fingers over the one in front of me, disrupting the dust covering it.
With a snap of my fingers, I sent a flame to the wick and it flared to life. With the added light I could now see there were fire torches attached to handmade sconces around the cave and I walked to each of them and lit them. It was as bright as daylight!
“Wow. I’m guessing this was your secret place, Grandpa.” I whispered, extinguishing my own flame and moving around the cave. In the centre I noticed it was softer beneath my feet and I kneeled, exploring with my fingers. Something was under here, and I began brushing until I revealed what appeared to be a large piece of canvas with a big round symbol painted on it. Picking it up I shook it, clearing the layer of sand and dust from it, then laid it back down.
“Ceremonial.” I decided. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to remember if I’d read anything of a ceremonial nature in the fire slinger book, but I’d flicked through it so fast and had fixated on what we could do as fire demons I couldn’t really say for sure what else was in the book. I made a vow to sit down and read it thoroughly from cover to cover.
“Did you use ceremonial items?” I glanced over to where Bear had his nose up against a wooden chest. “Something in there boy?” He wagged his tail so I took that as a yes.
Opening the lid I looked inside. A bunch of candles and nothing else. Disappointed I returned to the bench, slid on the stool and lifted the stack of papers. Something had to be here. Grandpa wanted me to find this place for a reason. One of the papers was a hand-drawn map with an X.
“Really Grandpa? X marks the spot?” I studied the map, trying to figure out the landmarks. The X appeared to be on Shelton land but I wasn’t sure where, exactly. Putting the page aside I flicked through the others, stopping when I saw a diagram that looked a little like a family tree – only on one side was the name Gunslinger and the other side? Red Witch. Beneath both were a list of names and I guessed they were the people who worked for or with the Gunslinger and Red Witch. My eyes couldn’t avoid it anymore. In the middle, circled multiple times was the name, Frank Shelton. Dad’s name.
“Damn it!” I cursed. He was involved, in whatever went down in Maxxan all those years ago that resulted in Grandpa’s death, dad was involved. And the Red Witch, she’s the one who must have cast the spell over Maxxan. Why? What was in it for her to help the vampires? And why did the vampires want Maxxan? Snatching up the map and list of names I headed back to the ladder. I needed Jordan to run the names through his SIA database – we ne
eded to know who these people, sorry, vampires and witches, were. Were they still around? Jordan had the power to bring them in, question them.
Chapter Sixteen
“Rae! Is everything okay? What time is it?” He stood in the doorway in boxer shorts and nothing else and I had a hard time dragging my eyes from his chest.
“Uh.” Was my reply. Running one hand over his face he grabbed my wrist with his free hand and pulled me inside.
“What’s going on?” He turned on the lamp beside his bed and I glanced around his hotel room. I’d expected it to be a mess, because, you know, he’s a guy, but I was surprised to see it was tidy – no pizza boxes to be seen, clothes put away. Who was this man?
“Rae?” He stood watching me, his face unreadable. That was something about him that intrigued me – how I could never tell what he was thinking whereas he could read me like a book. Like now, when he muttered “focus” before pulling a t-shirt over his head, covering the flesh that had me so distracted.
“Yes. Right.” I blew out a breath and hoped he couldn’t see the flush on my cheeks in the dim light. “I found a secret cave under the house.” I blurted.
“What?” This got his attention, his eyes zeroed in on me and he stepped closer.
“I had a dream. About Grandpa. He was trying to tell me something. He was standing by the bookcase in the den. So I went and looked, thinking maybe it had a secret hiding place but couldn’t find anything – until I pulled it out from the wall and there was a tunnel and a ladder leading to…I guess it’s a cave – or a cavern – I don’t suppose it matters what you call it.” I was speaking fast, I knew it, but he had no trouble keeping up.
“What was in the cave?”
“A floor covering with a round circle and an arrow on it. And these.” I pulled the map and list out of my back pocket and handed it to him. “A map, and a list. I think it’s the vampires who were working with the Gunslinger and maybe the witches who were working with the Red Witch.”
“And your dad. In the middle.” He pointed out. I nodded. “Yes, and my dad.”
“Could you run the names through your database?” I asked. It was a long shot. The list was from a long time ago, but vampires didn’t age, so some of the names on that list might still be around. As for witches, I had no clue.
He was already nodding, “I’ll send them through now.” Grabbing his phone from the bedside table he smoothed the list of names out on the bed and snapped a photo, then sent it off to someone who I assumed worked at SIA HQ.
“And the map?” He held it in his hand, studying it.
“It’s our land – grandfathers land, only I’m not one hundred percent sure where.”
“We’ll head out as soon as it’s light.” I glanced at the digital clock on his nightstand. Shit. It was four a.m.
“Oh God, I didn’t realize the time. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You can come to me any time, day or night. I’m always here for you.” His voice dropped, became deeper, more intimate but he didn’t move. I watched him from across the room. I still didn’t buy this whole fated mate thing, but I couldn’t deny the attraction between us – not to mention our chemistry was off the charts.
I didn’t know what to say. I wanted him, yes. Did I want forever with him? I couldn’t answer that. Not yet. The whole idea was so foreign to me, it was like someone suggesting I put salt instead of sugar into my coffee. Weird. And I wasn’t sure I’d like it.
He knew, of course. Knew all the thoughts spiralling through my brain, mostly the doubt though. On silent feet he approached, moving slowly, carefully as if any sudden movement would make me bolt. He raised a hand to my face. The heat that emanated from him caressed me like hot silk.
He ran a hand around to the small of my back, the heat of him almost too much to bear. Or was it my own heat, reflected back at me. I couldn’t tell, but it caused goose bumps to break out, it was so hot. My tongue flicked along my lower lip and I shivered, legs clenching, a whimper escaping.
“I love that about you,” he said, picking up a lock of my hair and rubbing it between the fingers of one hand while pulling me closer with the other.
“What?” The heat of him was distracting me, I couldn’t recall what we had been talking about.
“So responsive.” There was approval in his voice. “I love the way you react to me,” his voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear.
“I don’t trust easily,” I whispered, “please don’t make me regret it.”
“I won’t,” he promised, a second before he lowered his mouth to mine, fusing us together like an arc welder. The heat was blistering and surreal at once, and I felt it all the way down to my toes. He broke off the kiss and nipped at my ear. “You’re so fucking hot.” Arousal leapt inside me so fast, I felt the world spin.
I ran my fingers over him, explored the hills and valleys of his muscles as they contracted and released under my touch. I felt the smoothness of his skin, the hardness of the muscles underneath, the tautness of his abdomen. Lower and lower until I was rewarded with a telltale rush of blood.
He sucked in air through his teeth when I grazed his erection. With amazing swiftness, he stripped off his clothes, then mine, sweeping me into his arms he lowered me onto the bed, followed me down, supporting his weight on his hands planted on either side of my head.
He offered me a soft kiss, his mouth brushing across mine before showering tiny kisses along my cheek until he came to my ear. His warm breath stirred my hair as he whispered, “you’re going to love this.”
Cocky bastard. I moved my hand to his sculpted jaw. Pressed into him. Closed the distance between us until my mouth hovered just under his. “I know.”
I consumed his groan, drew him to me, arched into him until he dragged his mouth away, panting. I was only just getting started but it seemed he had other ideas, evading my seeking mouth he nibbled my neck, his tongue feathering across my skin. I sucked air in through my teeth as he sucked a breast, then he gave the same rapt attention to its twin. I squirmed under his ministrations.
He explored my entire body with his blisteringly hot mouth. My stomach. My hips. My legs. My ankles. My insteps, which caused way more pleasure than I could’ve imagined. I grabbed a handful of hair when he dipped between my legs and almost bucked off the mattress.
He slowly explored my sensitive folds with his lips and tongue, lapping in a hypnotic rhythm, coaxing the flames of my desire. I curled my toes in the air and my fists into the sheets as he spread my legs and entered me in one seamless thrust. Wrapping me in his arms, he pulled me up until we were both upright. I thrust my fingers into his hair and started to rock. He gripped my shoulders and pulled me harder onto his cock. I cried out, wanting more. So very much more. I rose onto my toes and began riding him. He cupped my ass and helped me, lifting me off him to the very tip and then plunging me back down.
I felt his hunger, hot and urgent between my legs, raw and powerful. The air in my lungs thickened as a series of aching spasms grew stronger with each beat of my heart, syphoning me closer and closer until a white-hot orgasm burst inside me, crashing and tumbling and reeling.
I’d gotten lost in my own swelling desire, but it seemed my climax was all Jordan needed to release his own firestorm. His muscles tensed as the orgasm coursed through him, ebbing after a few agonizing moments, leaving only Jordan’s laboured breathing in its wake.
* * *
The buzzing of Jordan’s phone roused me, I wasn’t truly asleep, just dozing, basking in post-coital bliss.
“Buchanan.” The mere sound of his low deep voice was enough to send desire dancing over my skin. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, I was starting to believe his claims – that we were meant for each other. I definitely viewed him as mine and knew if another woman so much as looked at him for one second too long she’d have trouble on her hands – in the form of me.
“Thanks.” He hung up and gave my shoulder a light shove, “come on sleepy head, we’ve got
work to do.”
“Oh?” Sitting up I didn’t bother holding the sheet to hide my nakedness and grinned at the way his breath sucked in and his hand reached for me before he quickly snatched it back.
“Oh no, you don’t minx.” He chuckled, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “That was the SIA. They’ve sent through satellite photos of your grandparent’s property.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. I didn’t know he’d asked for them to do that, but whatever.
“So, we can match it up with that map?” He prompted, “and find whatever it is that your grandfather wants us to find.”
“Oh. OH!” Leaping out of bed I beat him to the bathroom, flicking on the shower and stepping beneath the spray before the water had a chance to warm. Goosebumps pebbled on my skin.
“You are so beautiful.”
“You’re only saying that because I’m naked and wet.” I teased.
“That too.” He smiled.
“Get in here.” I tugged him in beside me and kissed him.
“You’ve got to cut that out,” He groaned when I cupped him in my palm and lightly squeezed.
“You want me to stop?” I was kissing his neck, working my way across his chest, then lower. “seriously?” I asked.
When I was on my knees in front of him I looked up, his cock inches from my mouth. His back blocked the spray of the shower and I tilted my head, he hadn’t answered my question.
“You want me to stop Buchanan?” It was a low, seductive, drawl, I was impressed by the amount of lust that laced my words.
“No.” He threaded his fingers behind his head and stood, proud and erect, waiting. With a smile curling my lips I caressed him, trailed my tongue from base to tip and back again, heard his curse when I drew him into my mouth and sucked, my cheeks hollowing, before I began the slow but sure rhythm, up and down.