Brown Eyed Ghoul: A Ghostly Paranormal Romance Series (The Peyton Clark Series Book 3)

by H. P. Mallory

  I threw the blankets off me, letting my legs fall over the side of the bed. Then I realized I was still naked except for my bra. My forehead furrowed. I hadn’t gone to bed with my bra on. Or did I? I looked down and noticed a splash of a mud-colored substance on one of my ankles. For a moment, I just stared at it, but when I pulled my leg up closer to my face, the strange grogginess in my head slammed me again. My foot was mud-colored because it was covered in mud. What the? And even worse, the bottom of my foot was black with dirt. I lifted my other foot. The same.

  Ryan stirred behind me, drawing in a deep breath that meant he was coming out of sleep. Then his arm slid around my waist and he pulled me back down into bed.

  “You’re naked.” He tugged me into the middle of the bed, then positioned himself on top of me.

  Instead of commenting on the fact that he too was naked, I said, “And dirty.”

  Ryan’s lips pulled back in a grin as his eyes glistened with devilish fun.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head as the uneasy feeling in my gut eclipsed Ryan’s charms. “My feet are dirty. As in: they have actual dirt on them. Mud.”

  The playful smile vanished from Ryan’s mouth as confusion took over. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered as I lifted my feet out in front of me and eyed them again. “It’s like I was walking around barefoot or something,” I said, the uncomfortable feeling ratcheting up a notch. “But as you know,” I gestured with my hands, “I was sleeping.” I gently pushed him away so I could sit up and show him my bra. “And I don’t remember wearing this when I fell asleep.” As I said the words, my eyes narrowed. I couldn’t quite remember falling asleep, now that I thought about it.

  Ryan was studying me, well, mostly my breasts, but he finally looked up at my face and said, “Are you sure?”

  I looked at him for a beat, then slumped with a sigh. “No, I’m not sure about the bra. I am pretty sure that I didn’t go to sleep with mud all over my feet though.”

  He eased himself over to me, and kissed my upper arm. “You’re constantly running around with bare feet.”

  He had a point. I couldn’t remember the last time I put shoes on to go to his house, which was right down the street from mine. That would explain my dirty soles, but mud?

  “Pey, stop stressing about it. You must not have realized how filthy your feet were before you came to bed last night.”

  Even though it failed to make any sense, I rubbed my head, wishing the tension and fogginess would go away. I felt like I hadn’t slept all night.

  “Need some coffee?” Ryan asked as he glanced past me to look at the clock. His face went from relaxed to alert in an instant. “What time are we meeting Lovie and Christopher before we head over to Guarda’s?”

  I turned to look at the clock, then huffed a breath of impatience that we slept so late.

  “You’re rubbing off on me,” Ryan said as he got out of bed with a yawn, and stooped to reach for his clothes.

  “Me? You were the one who woke me up in the middle of the night, and then left me practically comatose with all your…” I waved my hands in the general direction of his face. “I still can’t think straight apparently.” I gave up looking for my panties and threw on a robe. I wondered if Drake would be mad at me for keeping him shut out in the dark for so long. The alternative was to let him witness the sexcapades with Ryan, so I guessed he’d understand.

  Ryan’s face emerged from the crinkled t-shirt he was pulling down over his wonderfully sculpted chest. The playful smirk returned, but his eyes were curious with puzzlement. “Middle of the night?” He tugged at the hem of his t-shirt to straighten it. “Did you sleepwalk to your other boyfriend’s house or something?”

  I looked at him through lowered eyes. “You don’t remember? The, um… you…”

  Ryan’s eyebrows rose as he waited for me to spit it out.

  “The kissing?” When he didn’t say anything, I pointed to my groin with both hands.

  Ryan’s eyes reflexively went to the place I was pointing to.

  “The,” I made grabbing motions with my fingers, “the thigh grasping?”

  Ryan’s smirk lengthened to a smile, then he busied himself with putting on his pants. “Last thing I remember was you…” his voice trailed off as he buttoned his jeans, and his eyes focused on some far off point as he scratched his head. “I remember the hall, carrying you to bed…” He took a deep breath and shrugged. “I don’t remember any kissing.” He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, before gazing into my eyes with a naughty gleam in his. “But I’ll be happy to recreate your dream later.”

  “But,” I started, and my brain registered that something was not right about his reaction—he seemed to have no clue what I was talking about. But he absolutely woke me up last night with his head between my thighs before we had crazy passionate sex for over an hour. How could he have forgotten that? Before I could further question him, he was already out the door, and on his way to the kitchen.

  I scrambled to find my slippers, still wondering what the hell happened last night before I remembered to tune Drake back into the world. Stealing another glance at the clock, I grumbled as I internally chanted the words to allow Drake back into my reality.

  I paused at the silence that greeted me. Drake?

  Kind of you, mon chaton, to remember my existence! There was a measured beat of silence. Did you just get out of bed? Another beat. And I see you are only clothed in your robe.

  Look at my feet, I said to shut him up. I lifted one foot to reveal the bottom of it, and looked at it so that he could see it through my eyes.

  Yes, it’s filthy. What do you expect? You never put on shoes.

  I woke up with them like this but I don’t remember doing anything that would get them this dirty! I switched the topic to a different troubling fact. And then Ryan… I abruptly ended my sentence as I realized what I was about to explain to Drake. Ryan couldn’t recall being awake in the middle of the night, I said carefully.

  Are you saying what I think you are saying? Drake asked.

  What do you think I’m saying? I replied as I thumped down the stairs. Instead of heading to the kitchen, I detoured to the front door so I could grab the paper off the doorstep and give Drake and me a little more time to chat.

  That you had relations with le barberian and he doesn’t remember? He sounded on the verge of outrage. There was no use denying it.

  Yup. That is what I’m saying.

  Drake made several noises that sounded like a feeble attempt at words, but nothing coherent came out.

  And the dirt. What about the dirt on my feet? I mean, what the hell is that about? I lifted the paper from the step, and wrapped my robe tighter around me as I went back inside.

  Was he drunk? Drake demanded.

  No, he wasn’t drunk. I chucked the paper on a decorative table by the door and headed toward the kitchen.

  Maybe he was and you weren’t aware. Maybe he is one of those closet alcoholics. He does get temperamental quite often.

  I audibly scoffed and walked into the kitchen, making Ryan look up from what he was doing at the stove.

  “Do you want eggs?” Ryan asked.

  I cleared the emotion from my face. “Eggs sound great.” I shot him a smile and pecked his cheek. “Thanks.”

  Perhaps tonight you should do an experiment, Drake said.

  I turned away from Ryan, busying myself by getting some coffee. What do you mean?

  I assume he initiated your… tryst?

  Yes, I replied, but why would you assume that?

  I am aware of how much you love your sleep, mon chaton. If he were me, I would…

  “How’s Drake this morning?” Ryan asked, and his tone was borderline sarcastic.

  Drake was just about to seduce me with his wit and charm, Drake answered in a falsetto voice to mimic mine.

  Oh, come on. I mean, really, Drake? Before I took a sip of my coffee, I said to Ryan, “He’s grumpy that we took o
ur sweet time last night.”

  Drake didn’t miss a beat before continuing. And Drake would have been so thrilled by what he was doing to me, I’m sure he’d have remembered every detail of every…

  You’re being ridiculously childish.

  Ryan eased up behind me, his breath at my ear as he grabbed a handful of my right butt cheek. “Terribly sorry.”

  Is he coming on to me? Drake quipped.

  His response was so quick and perfectly timed that I couldn’t help giggling. Ryan smiled at my response, thinking my reaction was for him. I smiled back before taking another drink of coffee while trying to ignore the instant twinge of guilt I felt.

  Are you calmer now? Can you tell me your experiment idea without coming unhinged? I asked Drake, hoping he could just tell me so that I didn’t upset Ryan by being so focused on Drake.

  I am not unhinged.

  The experiment? I prodded, letting some annoyance seep into my voice.

  Well, I was thinking, if the barbarian wakes you up tonight, just slap him across the face and see what happens.

  I fought to outwardly portray neutrality on my face instead of allowing my eyes to glaze over in exasperation.

  But before you do that, make sure I’m there to see it. So I can assess…

  I said the words to shut Drake out again, and the silence that ensued made me slightly lonely.

  “I’m going to get in the shower,” Ryan said, standing up at the kitchen table. He wolfed down his food in practically two bites and chugged his coffee.

  My food was still untouched.

  “Coming?” he asked in a deep, suggestive tone.

  I gave him a small smile. “In a minute.”

  Ryan smiled and kissed my forehead, then he went to have his shower.

  I sat in the quiet, wondering how long Drake would require to unwind enough to take what I was saying seriously. I needed him and his analytical mind, not petty jealousy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right, and obviously, Ryan couldn’t help me.

  I pushed back from the table and tossed my uneaten food in the trash before joining Ryan in the shower. I couldn’t help thinking I ought to pay more attention to where I was stepping.

  SIX

  I held Ryan’s hand as we drove to Guarda’s. My other hand tightly clasped the gris-gris Lovie gave me that I put in my pocket. I knew the protection charm was worthless against Guarda’s powerful magic, but it was still comforting, if only because Lovie believed it was effective and I trusted Lovie. The trailers of The Sidiel rolled by my window, and I gulped the mounting anxiety that was growing inside me by the second.

  Do we know what we intend to say to Guarda? Drake asked.

  I almost jumped at the sound of his voice inside my head since everyone was so quiet in the cab of Ryan’s truck.

  Drake’s question reminded me of his sentiments about Guarda potentially harming Dorothy, if Guarda were the true source of the mysterious disappearance of stuck spirits. A pang of nearly overwhelming fear for Dorothy gripped me, and the strong emotional reaction astonished me. I couldn’t explain it, but in that moment, I was absolutely sure that we had to protect Dorothy from Guarda.

  “We shouldn’t mention our theory that Dorothy is a stuck spirit,” I said to the others, although I was still looking out the truck window.

  “Then how do you propose we find out if Guarda can, in fact, allow you to reach Dorothy, assuming Dorothy is nothing more than trapped energy?” Christopher asked.

  Though I couldn’t see his face, I clearly pictured him sneering at my stupidity.

  “Well,” Lovie said, her warm voice calmly interjecting, “we don’t really need to know about that part yet, do we? We just have to get Peyton and Drake back to Dorothy’s time to figure out what happened to her.”

  “Yes,” I answered, and my voice was soft. “We can at least do that much for Jill and Ada.”

  From the time Dorothy disappeared to when the newborn Memaw Alice was discovered… was it two weeks? Drake asked.

  Yeah, I answered immediately. It dawned on me in that moment what Drake was getting at. Though Dorothy disappeared in a relatively narrow window of time in the afternoon, a newborn baby was discovered two weeks later. And Dorothy must have been alive to give birth to the baby. That was a problem. What if we had to stay in the past for two weeks to figure out what happened to her? What would we wear with nothing but the clothes on our backs? How would we eat? Where would we stay? How would we get around the city?

  Last time Guarda sent you back, didn’t she send things with you? The potion you had to drink to allow you to return, for example? Drake asked.

  Yes, but nothing she tried to send back with me survived. “Lovie,” I said aloud. “Last time, Guarda assumed she’d be able to send physical items back with me.”

  “Yes,” Lovie said. “I remember.”

  “Drake made the point that this time, we may need some extra resources as Dorothy disappeared two weeks before Alice was born.”

  “Peyton?” Ryan turned from the road long enough to give me a serious look. “Last time you were only gone a day. Not even a whole day. And you were practically comatose when we brought you back. There’s no way you can stay under for two weeks.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t get worse the longer I’m there,” I answered with a shrug, hoping that was the case.

  “It affects you more the longer your body and spirit are on different planes of existence,” Christopher answered pedantically.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “It is important you don’t stay longer than a few days at most,” Lovie added.

  “What happens if she stays past that?” Ryan asked.

  “It might be difficult to reunite her body and spirit,” Christopher answered nonchalantly. “Not that we have a ton of experience with that,” he added, “but from what we’ve heard.”

  So helpful.

  My first inclination was to brush it off, but I wondered what might happen to Drake. Would going back affect him adversely too? The thought made me feel sick.

  We will just have to get back as soon as we can, mon amour, Drake said quietly.

  He must have felt my reaction to Christopher’s words. I wondered if he knew they were because I was worried about him. Well, with my next question, he’d know.

  “How will it affect Drake?” I asked, making my voice soft to try and ease any tension from Ryan over the subject.

  Remarkably, Christopher was silent.

  “We don’t really know,” Lovie answered. “But if I had to guess, I’d say, he’d probably have an easier time than you crossing between planes. Things are more fluid for spirits who are detached from their own bodies.”

  “I suppose it might be too much for him to come back and stay in your body if you’re strained beyond your limits; but if that occurs, he could always go back to haunting the house,” Christopher hypothesized.

  I somehow managed to keep my mouth shut, even though I desperately wanted to ask if Drake could eventually return to my body once I recovered.

  “What do you mean ‘strained beyond her limits?’” Ryan asked, his voice low.

  “I thought we already covered that,” Christopher responded dryly.

  “Then how would…” My voice trailed off as I realized it would probably not be a good idea to present the scenario I was considering in front of Ryan.

  “What, Peyton?” Lovie encouraged.

  “Would I just stay back in time, or…?”

  They were quiet again, and Ryan’s hand squeezed mine more tightly.

  “We don’t really know, honestly,” Lovie answered.

  “Theoretically, if you kept the body alive,” Christopher said, as if discussing an abstract science experiment.

  “Peyton. You’re talking about Peyton,” Ryan said through gritted teeth. “Not some random body.”

  I should’ve been more concerned about the scenario, but I wasn’t. Maybe I was just too worried about everything else to consider that. B
efore I could really dwell on all that, my mind wandered and I wondered what could happen if I were stuck in time. If it happened to my spirit, what were the odds they could bring Drake back, even if it were supposedly easier?

  You must know that I won’t leave you, mon amour. Even if it’s a possibility, Drake murmured.

  Thank you, I thought back.

  “We must respect the time limit,” Lovie said, her warm voice reassuring. “And then all will be fine.”

  Ryan exhaled a heavy breath, which suggested to me that he wasn’t convinced all would be fine. But he laced his fingers in mine, pulling my hand onto his lap as he turned the truck down Guarda’s long driveway. I felt a deep pang of guilt at the thoughts that flashed through my head, but before I could really concentrate on them, we were in front of Guarda’s shack, faced with our next task.

  We were all quiet again as Ryan put the truck in park, but kept the engine idling. I eyed the scraggly trees in front of the hovel that was her home. Even over the rumbling of the truck’s large engine, I could hear the clanking from the glass bottles that hung in the trees, put there to supposedly catch spirits, both good and bad. The compulsive urge to protect Dorothy happened again as I watched the bottles swaying in the wind.

  Then another realization hit me, right in the gut. I would be a spirit, detached from my body, just like Drake. What potential traps awaited us, especially with Guarda knowing how vulnerable we were? I shivered, wondering what it felt like to be relegated to only the essence of myself, encased in cold, hard glass and dangling helplessly in a tree. Then my thoughts turned to Dorothy. Where was she trapped? What was she experiencing?

  It isn’t too late to decide against this, mon amour, Drake said softly. For all we know, maybe the reason Dorothy is stuck is because of Guarda.

  Well, then we’re in the right place to find out, I answered back. I told Jill and Ada I would help them. And I meant what I said. I popped open the truck door and got out.

  Ryan and Lovie followed my lead, exiting from the monstrous pickup and taking up protective positions along both sides of me. Christopher, who was apparently banished from Guarda’s house a long time ago, stayed in the truck. Lovie seemed uncharacteristically nervous, which struck me as odd. Though she didn’t trust Guarda either, I’d never seen her so nervous. I wondered if something happened. Our last Guarda encounter hadn’t shaken Lovie this much.