by Deanna Chase
Spirits, Rock Stars, and a Midnight Chocolate Bar
Paper Rayne, Book 2
Deanna Chase
Bayou Moon Press, LLC
Contents
Copyright
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Book List
About Deanna
Copyright © 2016 by Deanna Chase
First Edition 2016
Cover Art by Janet Holmes
Editing by Anne Victory and Angie Ramey
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
Bayou Moon Press, LLC
About This Book
It’s date night! And medium Pyper Rayne is finally getting some alone time with her oh-so-sexy new boyfriend, Julius. But when a representative from the Witches’ Council shows up during appetizers, the romance portion of the evening comes to a screeching halt. Julius is needed to deal with paranormal activity—on a cruise ship to the Caribbean.
An all-expense paid cruise to the Caribbean sounds like the perfect second date… until Pyper witnesses the death of a famous rock star. Suddenly Pyper and Julius are caught in the middle of a decade-old homicide. Now the race is on to solve the mystery or history is destined to repeat itself.
Get the next book in the Pyper Rayne novels: Spirits, Beignets, and a Bayou Biker Gang
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1
The bell on the door chimed, and I glanced up from my table, smiling. Julius, my date, strolled into the Grind—the café I owned—looking every bit the 1920s gangster: black pants, black dress shirt, black-and-white pin-striped vest, and a white silk tie. To top it all off, he’d even added a fedora. Butterflies did a swan dive in my stomach. God, he was sexy.
“Hot damn!” Ida May, my resident ghost, fanned herself while floating in the middle of my café. “If I were you, I’d forget the restaurant. Just haul his fine ass right upstairs, smother him in gravy, and eat him for dinner.”
Now that was a thought. I grinned at her. Not long after I’d acquired my medium ability, Ida May had shown up and never left. At least she kept things interesting.
Holding a bouquet of blue violets, Julius ignored the circle of female tourists gaping at him and walked toward me. He was unlike anyone I’d ever dated before. The fact that he’d been a ghost for ninety or so years prior to being brought back to his human form probably had something to do with that. His gentlemanly manners charmed me while his secret, back-alley bootlegging persona did things to my girly parts. Skirting the law had been his way of surviving in the early nineteen hundreds in New Orleans.
“Hey there, handsome,” I said as an unfamiliar ball of warmth sprang to life in my chest, a ball that felt suspiciously like… happiness. An alarm bell rang somewhere in the back of my mind, warning me to be careful. To keep my guard up, to not get burned yet again. But I instantly slammed the door on those thoughts.
Today I was going to enjoy myself… enjoy Julius.
Julius stopped midstep and frowned. “What’s wrong?” He glanced down at his attire. “Too dated? Too old-fashioned?” Smiling, he added, “Is my fly down?”
“Not yet,” Ida May said in a singsong voice. “But I’m sure Pyper would love to help you out with that.”
Julius’s cheeks flooded with color as he flushed with embarrassment. He was a witch who also had the gift of seeing spirits… much to his dismay when Ida May was around.
My heart nearly melted and I shook my head, chuckling. “No, you look very handsome. Very New Orleans.”
“Very lickable.” Ida May smacked her lips and ran her fingertips over the swell of her breast as if imagining what it would be like to do exactly that.
I eyed the 1920s ghost hovering beside me. She wore a lacy, sleeveless nightgown and black thigh-highs, a fitting outfit for someone who’d been one of the ladies of Storyville—the former New Orleans red-light district. “Ida May, I know you’re the expert, but I’m pretty sure we can manage without your input.”
“Damn straight I am. Did you know the quickest way to make a guy orgasm is to—”
“Ida May!” I laughed. “Stop.”
“Wait, I might want to hear this.” Julius slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, waiting for Ida May’s answer.
I raised one skeptical eyebrow. “Is speed really the goal?”
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps not.” Then he winked at me and tugged me toward the front door. “Let’s hurry and get dinner so we can savor what comes next.”
“Please.” Ida May smirked. “You two are wound so tight, I bet you finish each other off before you even get naked.”
Julius stared at her with his mouth slightly open.
I tightened my hand around his and shook my head in amusement. “Ignore her,” I whispered to him. “She’s just spun up because she hasn’t seen any action in over ninety years.”
“I heard that!” Ida May yelled as we slipped out the door.
“Where to?” I asked, tightening my short trench coat against the February chill, though my skirt and knee-high boots did nothing to warm my bare thighs.
“Dinner.” He slipped his hand to the small of my back and led me down Bourbon Street, away from the crowds. “How does steak and those truffle fries you’ve been talking about sound?”
I licked my lips and suppressed a moan. “Truffle fries. You’re angling for date of the year, aren’t you?”
His eyes began to smolder as he swept his gaze over me. “If I’m lucky.”
I leaned into him, lightly pressing my body to his long, firm one. “Oh, you’re going to get lucky. No doubt about it.”
It was his turn to suppress a groan. Quickening his pace, he tugged me along. “I hope you already know what you want to order, because dinner is going to be a quick affair.”
A tingle of anticipation flitted through me, and I lengthened my stride to keep up with him. Before I knew it, we’d arrived at the restaurant and were being seated near the window. The scent of roasting beef filled the air, making my stomach growl.
“Two glasses of the house cabernet,” Julius said to the waitress.
With a nod, she hurried off. I smiled at my date and had no sooner shrugged out of my coat than I felt the brush of ice-cold air against my bare arm. A shimmering li
ght appeared out of nowhere, and then a small ‘pop’ sounded as a thin, black-haired woman materialized in the chair next to me.
“Whoa!” I jumped up, holding my hands out. “Who the hell are you?”
“Lizette?” Julius frowned, his brows drawn together in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“You know her?” I asked, eyeing the woman. She wore a shapeless black silk dress and an armful of silver bangles. She was elegant in a boho-chic way.
Julius turned his apologetic gaze on me. “Lizette is a council witch. She oversees any cases assigned to me.”
“I see.” I lowered myself back into my chair and glanced around, noting that no one seemed to pay any attention to the witch’s sudden appearance. No doubt she’d used some sort of spell to minimize her disturbance.
“Lizette?” Julius leaned in, piercing her with his gaze. “I probably don’t have to tell you you’re ruining my date.”
“That can’t be helped,” Lizette said, a whimsical lilt to her voice. She slid an unmarked envelope toward him. “We’ve got a situation, and you’re the only witch currently unassigned. We need you to take this case, and timing is of the essence.”
“But we’re on a date,” I interjected before Julius could answer. “Don’t you think you’re overstepping just a bit?”
Julius slipped his hand over mine and squeezed gently, but when he spoke, it was to Lizette. “It can’t wait, can it?”
The witch shook her head. “I’m afraid not. There’s been a measurable disturbance of black magic on the Illusion. They’ve had complaints of sinister activity on the main deck: apparitions, stolen energy, possessions, et cetera. You’ve been booked on tonight’s passage. They’re holding the ship for you. It’s a seven-day cruise. Pack accordingly.”
“The ship?” Julius’s eyes widened. “Where am I headed?”
“Wait just a minute,” I said, making no effort to keep the irritation out of my tone. “You’re sending him on a cruise? Now?” This wasn’t happening. Julius just took the job with the Witches’ Council. They couldn’t seriously be sending him out to sea. Could they? Not when we were supposed to be spending our first night together.
Lizette let out an exaggerated sigh as she stood. “My apologies for interrupting you, but we were out of options. If a witch—or worse—is aboard the Illusion and playing with black magic, then lives are on the line.” Then she stopped and stared at us, shaking her head. “Honestly, I can’t believe you two are so upset about an all-expenses-paid trip to the Caribbean for the week. Most witches would be thanking me right now, not complaining.”
“Two?” I asked, my outrage fleeing at the thought of some beach time in Jamaica.
“Yes, two,” she barked. “For goddess’s sake. Isn’t that what I just said?”
Julius grinned at me and then sobered as he turned to Lizette. “My apologies. I daresay you took us by surprise. Do you have any more information? Has anyone been hurt?”
“So far we only have a handful of frightened folk and one who ran into a doorknob, trying to escape an apparition. But a small fire did break out in one of the staterooms, and it’s unclear if it was an accident or our perpetrator. The guest doesn’t seem to remember any details. You’ll need to use your skills to flush the black-magic user out before anything worse happens.”
“Understood.” Julius got to his feet and held his hand out to Lizette. “I’ll report back a week from today.”
“I expect e-mails daily.” Then, without even glancing at his outstretched hand, she snapped her fingers and disappeared into thin air.
I had my iPhone on speaker as I hastily threw a variety of clothing into my suitcase. “Do you think I should take my lace-up boots?” I asked Jade, whom I’d called as soon as we got back to my apartment.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been on a cruise. I guess if they fit in your bag, why not?” A door slammed on the other end of the line and her tone turned hushed as she asked, “But never mind that. What’s this about black magic? You know how dangerous that is. How could you agree to this?”
“Julius has to go. It’s his job.”
“But you don’t,” she insisted. “Pyper—”
“Forget it. So far no one has been harmed, and I’ll be with Julius the entire time. There’s no way I’m turning down a cruise to the Caribbean. I’ll call you when we get back. Give my love to Kane.”
And before she could answer, I disconnected.
Julius leaned against the doorframe of my bedroom, watching me, his expression unreadable.
“Almost ready,” I said and threw in a sexy little black dress along with another pair of shoes.
“You don’t have to go, you know.”
I froze and then slowly straightened as I met his hooded gaze, disappointed that our time together was vanishing once again. It wasn’t that I resented his job, it was that I was eager to finally sink into the relationship we’d barely started. “Does that mean you don’t want me to?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not it at all, but it could be dangerous. The last thing I want to do is put you in the path of a dark witch.”
I let out a small bark of laughter but sobered instantly at his frown. “Sorry. It’s just that the past two years with Jade and Kane have been crisis after crisis. Not to mention the dirty cop who kidnapped Nissa and me a few weeks ago. But we showed him, didn’t we? Girl power rules!” I pumped my fist and winked.
Amusement lit his dark eyes and he grinned. “You sure did.”
“I’m fine if you’re fine. Like I told Jade, no one has been hurt, and you’ll be there to protect me. While you’re working, I’ll just be at the pool. Preferably at the swim-up bar. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect to me.” He eyed my suitcase. “Especially if you’re planning on wearing that tiny black two-piece.”
“Oh, I’m planning on wearing it.” I lowered my voice, switching to a husky tone. “And letting you strip it off me.”
Lust flickered in his gaze, and he swallowed hard. “Let’s hope I close this case tonight then, because I have plans. Detailed ones that require plenty of time.”
“Plans? Oh.” I fanned myself and threw my favorite short skirt in the bag.
“Many, many plans,” he said and then disappeared into the other room to wait for me.
Five minutes later, I had my suitcase stuffed and my passport in hand. “I’m ready.”
“I’ve never seen a woman pack so fast,” he said as he held the door open for me.
“I have,” Ida May chimed in from out of nowhere. “You can’t imagine how fast a girl can get her stuff together when the law is after her. Of course, when the majority of her wardrobe is lingerie, it’s not that hard to pack.”
I narrowed my eyes at the ghost floating in the middle of the stairwell. “What are you doing here?”
“Going with you, of course.” A huge grin spread across her face. “I can’t wait to find a hot bachelor to haunt.”
“Ida—”
“Relax.” She rolled her eyes. “You won’t even know I’m there.”
Julius and I glanced at each other. There was a heavy dose of skepticism in his gaze.
I closed my eyes and sighed. “I’m not sure I could stop her even if I tried.”
Julius shook his head. “Not likely.”
“Damn straight,” Ida May said, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “Now let’s go. There’s a pink-tini with my name on it.”
2
Music blared through the invisible speakers in the cheeky ship bar called the Green Parrot. Decorated with porcelain parrots, plastic palm trees, and replica pirate-ship paraphernalia, the place was too shiny and plastic to instill much confidence in the drink quality. Not to mention all the glasses had skulls and crossbones on them and the specialty drink was called Smuggler’s Southern Sangria. It was served in a thirty-two-ounce mason jar and looked like a hangover waiting to happen.
I’d opted for my old standby instead, relieved they had a fair var
iety of beers on tap. The bartender placed a mug of Turbodog in front of me and then turned her attention to another passenger.
Beer? Ida May wrinkled her nose. She was sitting on top of the bar just to my right, eyeing the dance floor. Why didn’t you get the pink-tini I asked for?
“Unbelievable,” I muttered out of the side of my mouth. “Maybe because you’re a ghost. I’m not buying you a nine-dollar cocktail you can’t even drink.”
Cheapskate. She cast me an irritated glare and then floated over to the dance floor where she inserted herself between a gorgeous couple, swaying to Chris De Burgh’s The Lady in Red. The woman stiffened, then shivered slightly, no doubt from Ida May’s presence. Ida May paid no attention to her and proceeded to press her see-through form up against the tall man.
He frowned and pulled his girl toward him, holding her close. Ida May seemed oblivious, but after a moment, the couple retreated from the floor and huddled together as if the temperature had dropped twenty degrees.
Ida May scowled at them but quickly turned her sights on one incredibly good-looking waiter who was serving a table full of giggling, middle-aged women.
I shook my head and took a long sip of my beer. The ship had taken off just a few minutes after we’d arrived, and after dropping off our bags, Julius had gone straight to the stateroom in question to test it for any paranormal activity. I’d been left behind, stuck listening to Ida May talk about the romance she was going to have on the high seas.
It’d only taken five minutes of that torture before I’d decided a drink was in order and headed for the nearest bar. Perhaps I should’ve ordered something stronger, but since our dinner had been so rudely interrupted, I hadn’t eaten yet and didn’t want to be a drunken mess when I met up with Julius later.
“Hello there, stranger,” a familiar voice said from behind me.
I twisted around so fast I nearly fell off the stool when I spotted the slender strawberry blonde. “Jade? What are you doing here?”