I laughed and wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck, tipping her head back with gentle pressure on her chin with my thumb so I could take her lips. “You can kiss me anytime you want. The lwas love it—they’re all quite randy. And so do I.”
She placed another quick peck to my cheek and stepped away, spinning in a circle to take in the courtyard. “Where are we starting?” she asked.
I gestured for the guys to start recording again, and the whole crew did a walk-through of the house on all levels, doing some quick EVP recording sessions and checking for electromagnetic energy with the K2 meters. We got some voice responses in the master bedroom, the kitchen, and in the old cold storage space off the dining room. Larken got some pretty strong impressions on the widow’s walk, so I told her to set up her Handycam and stay up there to do some automatic-writing work, where she let the spirits use her as a conduit to communicate by scribbling on a notepad. She could hear them, and so could the recorder if they so desired, but sometimes she got great results doing it this way, and it stopped her from being inundated with excessive voices and flashes.
Padre and Sky took the cold storage room since both Lark and I had felt the energy in there was a bit more malignant, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a skeptic and an ex-priest dealing with that. I sent Dakota into the kitchen so she could use her psychometry and read some of the objects in there, and Hanlen and I took the bedroom. Everybody else was in the command center in the corner of the courtyard, keeping watch on all the rooms and the property, observing, waiting, and listening.
“Why don’t you take a seat on the bed?” I said to Hanlen while scanning the space with our thermal imaging camera. “The device I have here,” I said, “records the temperature of objects in the room. If a temperature variance happens, it will show up on the display and record the anomaly. Spirits most often present themselves as cold energy, which renders as shades of blue, so anything that differs from the quote-unquote normal, will show up here.”
I took a seat on a chair near the bed and turned on the voice recorder, setting it on the edge of the night table. “Is there anybody here who would like to communicate with us?” I asked, sweeping the camera over the room. “We don’t mean any disrespect. We’d just like to know who you are and why you remain.” I paused. “Can you tell us your name? If you talk really loudly into that red light there,”—I pointed at the recorder—“we will be able to hear you.” I didn’t usually let on during a show that I could see the departed. They didn’t normally manifest like that to me anyway, especially if I had no connection to them. The only spirits I communicated with in any physical way during a show were the lwas and my family and friends, and that was generally done off-camera.
I glanced at Hanlen and saw her bring her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Is this your home?” I asked. “We heard you briefly earlier but weren’t sure what you were trying to tell us. Can you repeat that?” I waited and then startled a bit when I heard Hanlen’s voice.
“Are you an Arbor?” she asked. “Are you one of Arborwood’s workers? Are you watching over the property?”
I couldn’t hold back the smile that overtook my face at her joining in on the investigation. “Okay, let’s take a listen to this,” I said and stopped the recording, backing up to the beginning of the session. We listened to the questions without any responses until Hanlen chimed in. Clear as day on the recording, we heard intelligent responses to her inquiries in a soft, feminine voice.
“Are you an Arbor?”
“YES.”
The answers to the last two questions were no and yes respectively. I thought I knew who this might be. I started the recorder again.
“Myrtle Arbor,” I said. “Is that you? . . . Are you still here to see to your kin?” I paused. “Why do you bother the renters while they’re here? . . . They say they see a woman in white a lot in this room and the halls. Is that you?” Another pause. “Is there anything that you need us to do for you?”
“Do you really think this is my many-times-great-grandmother?” Hanlen asked.
“I do,” I said. “From all the research we gathered, she died in the house. In this room, actually. It makes sense. And she was a fierce woman. Extremely protective of those under her care. It seems entirely plausible that she’s our woman in white. That she’d remain to continue her matronly duties.”
When we listened to the recording, I got one of the most compelling pieces of EVP evidence I’d ever received on an investigation. The recorder had still been running when Hanlen asked me her question about her ancestor. As if the person were standing right next to us, the recording revealed three words in that same soft, feminine voice.
“HAN - LEN. COME . . . HOME.”
Chapter 20
“You’ll be silent forever, and I’ll be gone in the dark.”
~Joseph James DeAngelo, Jr.
The darkness inside him reigned. Celebrated. The festivities of the other night had been euphoric, bringing not only vitality and completion but also a sense of accomplishment. His sacrifice had fought hard, infusing their donation with extra energy, making the act more sacred. Why hadn’t he understood that before? The fear was like a delicious additive, an infusion of power, making the blood like hot chocolate . . . made more delicious by the screams.
He would experience it again. Now that he knew, he would never go back. He couldn’t. Some things never changed, but this definitely would. As would his newfound glory of taking pieces of his sacrifice unto himself, above and beyond their font of life. He could still taste the smoky sweetness of the flesh as it slid down his throat, chased by the drink from his chalice of life-giving elixir.
He needed to be strong for her. Effervescent. Fate had unexpectedly brought her back into his life, and this time he would have her. There would be no getting away from him. No second chances for her, no second choices for him. But to have her, he had to make sure he was at his best. And that meant borrowing from those the darkness deemed worthy.
He didn’t have anyone new in mind yet. But he would find the perfect specimen. He would uncover the one who would allow him to ascend and finally claim what was rightfully his.
He glanced at the picture he had secured to his truck visor, running his finger over the fine planes of her face, taking in her natural smile that he’d caught when she was unawares.
She was special. So very special. The one who would help him become what he was always meant to be. He wished he could see her in person right now. Take in her vitality, if only by being in her proximity. But that would have to wait. He had other things to attend to first. Things that would be important when he made his next move.
But he would see her again.
Soon.
Chapter 21
Hanlen
I couldn’t believe how tired I was. Yet wired. The investigation had been a rush and a half. I could see the appeal. The adrenaline was unlike anything else, and the pride and excitement anytime anything turned up was like a hit of sunshine. An endorphin rush that was better than the best designer drug—or so I assumed. But we were wrapping things up now for the night, and I could feel the crash coming on.
“Hey, Dev?” I called.
“Yeah?” he said and came walking over.
“I think we should stay here tonight. Why drive all the way back into the city? That is, if you can get ahold of your neighbor to see to Myst.”
He nodded. “That’s actually a great idea. I’d like to do some investigating on the property tomorrow, and it would be better to do it early so we know what we’re getting into when we hit dead time for day two.”
He’d told me that dead time was what they called it when they went lights-out and began the investigation in earnest.
“You can let anyone else know that they’re welcome to stay if they want, too. There are eight bedrooms in the place. And the carriage house is furnished also,” I added.
“I need to tell them to wrap up for the night anyway. Un
fortunately, the walkie is dead. The ghosts must have drained the energy.” He grinned. “As for the carriage house, I’d rather not have anyone out there just yet since we haven’t investigated it, but having everyone close and ready to go would be great. We can have anyone who heads back bring us some stuff from the city, but I’m ninety percent sure that most of us have extra clothes and things in our bags or vehicles. It’s just something we learned to do on investigations because you never know what might happen, especially during the times you have to investigate in the elements.”
He took out his cell and texted the group, presumably so he didn’t have to walk all over and tell everyone in person, since everybody was spread out in the house and on the property. I thought about what I’d seen as we walked through the courtyard. I was pretty sure that every room was ready for guests. We generally always kept it that way because of the rentals, and I knew that Bea and the cleaning crew had just been here, and the agency knew to check things like soap and towels and whatnot.
Dev walked up to me and kissed my cheek. “Everybody but Dakota and our temp tech grip, Jeremy, are staying. They thought it was a great idea, too. And I was right, everybody had enough stuff to get by for the night.”
I felt a weird sense of relief that Jeremy wasn’t staying. The guy seemed good at his job, but he was a little strange. Somewhere around my age, maybe a little older, he seemed a bit of a loner and just had this weird . . . dead look in his eyes a lot of the time. It was an expression I’d seen often working with criminals. But who was I to judge? I didn’t know his background, and even if he had done time, if he’d turned his life around he deserved a second chance, and I was glad that Dev was giving that to him. If that was his story.
I snapped back to the discussion at hand. “There should be things in the bathrooms for everybody, too. As long as they have clothes and necessities, everybody should be good. We can always order in delivery for breakfast.”
“Fabulous.” He grabbed my hand and started towards the stairs. “Which bedroom?” he asked. I was about to say the last on the left, and then realized that I no longer had to stay in my room. I could stay in the master with its amazing view. Grandma Myrtle could just get over the show. I hoped she wasn’t a prude.
“Let’s take the master. Let everybody else fight over the others. You’ll just have to protect me from the ghosts.” I nudged his shoulder.
“I can do that,” he said with a laugh and headed in that direction. Once safely closed inside, he turned to me as I was finishing kicking off my shoes. “You look tired,” he said.
“Just what a girl wants to hear,” I replied with a laugh.
He cupped my face and ran his thumb over my cheekbone. “That’s not what I meant,” he said and stared at me with a look that took my breath. “You are stunning. Always. I should have just come right out and said what I wanted to know.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“Are you too tired?”
Oh. Now I knew what he was getting at. And, hell, no, I wasn’t too tired.
“For you? Never,” I said, flashing him a saucy grin and a wink. And then, without another word, I turned and headed deeper into the room, removing articles of clothing as I walked and dropping them onto the floor like sensual breadcrumbs for Dev to follow.
When I made it to the bed clothed in only my red lace bra and panties and turned to face him, the look on his face made my knees weak. He hadn’t moved from the entryway between the sitting room and the bedroom and stared at me with such a look of hunger on his face that I flushed from head to toe. It was a heady thing to be desired so much, and Dev’s need was blatant in his expression and the tight lines of his body, not to mention the impressive erection tenting his jeans.
I gestured for him to join me, and he was in front of me in a handful of steps, somehow having discarded his T-shirt, footwear, and jeans, to appear before me in only his black boxer briefs. It was almost like magic, but I knew I had just been too mesmerized by watching the play of his muscles as he prowled to internalize what he had been doing.
“You’re going to catch flies.”
“Huh?” I said, meeting his gaze.
He placed a finger under my chin and applied gentle pressure, my bottom lip meeting my top. “Flies, you’re going to catch flies if you keep your jaw hanging open like that.” He laughed.
I shook my head with a smile. “I can’t help it. You’re just . . . yeah.”
“You have such a way with words,” he teased and winked. “But I can think of a better way for us to communicate right now.”
I propped a hand on my hip and quirked a brow. “Yeah, how’s that?”
“Like this.” Before I knew it, I was in the air, only to come down with a bounce on the massive king-sized bed. It shocked a laugh out of me, and I looked up just in time to see Dev peeling his briefs down his muscular thighs and stepping out of them to stand between my legs. He gripped himself and stroked a few times as he stared at me, and the sight made my mouth dry. I couldn’t help myself; I licked my lips and ran a hand between my breasts and down my belly, headed to where I needed to relieve some pressure, only to have him stop me.
“Uh-uh,” he said, grabbing my hand gently with his. “That’s my job.”
He gathered both of my wrists in one of his hands and lifted my arms over my head, so my hands rested on the mattress. “Leave them there,” he said and looked at me, the earnestness in his expression incredibly disarming.
And so hot.
I did as he bade me and watched as he ran a single index finger down the center of my chest to the clasp of my bra. With a quick flick of his fingers, the fastener released, and the cups fell to the sides freeing my breasts. He licked his lips. “So damn beautiful.”
With gentle care, he freed me of the bra and then repositioned my hands, only the single raise of an eyebrow my command to remain where I was. I had never thought much about whether I’d like to be dominated in bed, but I found I liked it. I liked it a lot. I always felt like I had to be so strong in life. Giving myself over to someone and entrusting them with my safety and pleasure made a kaleidoscope of butterflies take flight in my belly and my breath catch.
With hands and tongue and teeth drawing a dizzying path from my neck to my toes, he freed me of the scrap of lace I wore and settled in to feast. He took me to dizzying heights I wasn’t sure I’d ever come down from.
When I was nearly boneless, he reached over, protected us both, and then slid home. It wrung a gasp from me, pleasure from the depths of my soul. He moved with care, with purpose, and took me to the brink once more. Just as I was sure I couldn’t take anymore, he licked up my throat and plunged deep, whispering in my ear, “Let go.”
I gripped his back and screamed my release, feeling him follow me shortly after. We collapsed in a heap, panting.
“So, this is how ghosts feel,” I said.
He nipped my shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“I am most definitely having an out of body experience.”
He laughed and then gathered me close.
I was, without a doubt, falling in love with Deveraux Glapion.
If I hadn’t already fallen.
Chapter 22
Dev
“Lark,” I said into the walkie.
“Yeah, boss?” she replied, making me smile.
“Are you in the middle of something?”
“Not really. It’s pretty quiet in here right now. What do you need?”
“I want to run a spirit box session if you’re game.”
“Always,” she answered. “I’ll grab the equipment and meet you in the carriage house in a few.”
“Sounds great.” I turned to Hanlen and explained, for both her and the audience. “A spirit box is an amazing device. It scans radio frequencies and creates white noise that the spirits can use to communicate. It’s sometimes easier for them to manipulate those sounds than to build up enough energy to speak and be heard on the recorders.”
; “Wow, that’s fascinating,” she said. “I dreamed something similar earlier in the trip. How do you use it?”
“Lark and I, being the two available sensitives on the team right now since Dakota is otherwise engaged, will conduct an experiment where she wears sound-canceling headphones and a blindfold, and I ask questions through the walkie from another room. She listens to the white noise and will repeat anything she hears but she won’t be able to hear us. If we’re lucky, we’ll get some answers to the questions we’re asking.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see this,” Hanlen said, and I thought she was actually excited. It was always so fun to see a skeptic won over.
Lark walked through the door and shut it behind her. “Hey, guys. I brought the gear. It sucks that R2 had to leave early . . . though I hate that he’s still not feeling well. He’s usually such a great pack mule and saves me from lugging all the stuff.” She grinned. “How do you want to do this, Dev?”
“I was thinking you should be the conduit again,” I said. “Tell me anything you hear and blurt out any impressions you get.”
“Sounds great. Are we trying to talk to anyone in particular?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “I’m not sure I want to lead you. Are you comfortable just seeing where this goes?”
She smiled, the expression reaching her eyes. “Always.”
When she was settled in a comfortable seat, and I had Hanlen move to another part of the carriage house, I settled into the corner of that room and smiled over at Hanlen. “Are you ready?” I asked her, but also Lark through the walkie.
“Putting gear on now,” Lark said. We heard some shuffling over the walkie and then, “Go ahead whenever you’re ready.”
“Wait until you see this,” I said to Hanlen.
“So ready,” she answered, holding up the pen and paper she held. I had given her the task of recording what happened—my questions and any responses we got from Lark.
Memento Mori: Haunted New Orleans Series Page 12