A young couple neared, arm in arm and oblivious to the rest of the world. Tabby moved closer. “Make a move and I’ll stick ’em both before you can say boo.”
Gideon remained still, sure that Tabby would do exactly as she threatened if she had the chance. The twosome passed, unaware of the danger that was so close. When they were out of earshot, Tabby smiled once again. “Are you going to come with me or not?”
“I’m going to arrest you or kill you. Your choice.”
She didn’t look at all afraid, not of him, not of anything. Her grin grew wide again for a split second, and then her head turned sharply and the smile disappeared altogether, with a swiftness that transformed her face. “I told you to come alone.”
Gideon reached for her while she was distracted, intent on grabbing her wrist and sending a jolt to her heart. He’d never killed anyone before, but he knew it was possible, and if ever a monster deserved to die…But before he could get a grip on her, she lifted the hand that didn’t hold a knife and tossed a few grains of powder into his face. The grains fell into his eyes and onto his lips and everywhere else, and he was immediately half-blinded and dizzy. He missed her, and she swung out with the knife. It wasn’t a wild swing but a well-planned maneuver that slipped past his guard and took him by surprise. With a minimum of wasted motion, Tabby thrust the knife deep into his thigh.
Gideon’s leg gave out from under him, and he dropped to the boardwalk with a thud. Tabby took another swipe at his hand, this one wild and unplanned. Gideon shifted his hand. The tip of the knife barely grazed his flesh, drawing a small welt of blood rather than the finger she’d no doubt wanted to collect. Her head snapped up, she cursed, and then she ran.
Half-lying, half-sitting on the boardwalk, Gideon took aim. He hesitated. His vision swam. He blinked hard. Sending a bolt of electricity into her back was possible, but had the ruckus garnered the attention of the people in the café? He wondered if he could stop her without killing her. If he killed Tabby, he would never know how she had discovered his ability to talk with the dead…how many people she’d killed…why…?
He couldn’t let her get away. His hand lifted, and he called up more power than he had ever directed at another person, one who could not absorb the energy as he did.
But he didn’t fire. His thinking was usually so clear, so crisp, but at this moment it was anything but. Someone familiar called his name. Raintree! Somewhere in those shadows ahead stood the couple that had recently walked by. He couldn’t see them well, but they were there. Sure enough, the surprised and curious young man stepped into Tabby’s wake and directly into Gideon’s sights, and again his vision swam.
Hope, her own pistol in her hand, passed Gideon at a run. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he said as she cut between him and the man who’d foolishly placed himself in front of Gideon’s target. “No, not really,” he added, even though she was already too far away to hear his low words. “What the hell are you doing here?” He shouldn’t be surprised to see Hope here; he shouldn’t be surprised that she so easily gave chase. The woman was everywhere she shouldn’t be.
“Call for backup!” she yelled as she kept running.
Gideon lowered his hand and leaned against the boardwalk railing, glancing down at his torn trousers. He healed quickly, but he didn’t heal immediately. The scratch in his hand was already fading away, but his thigh was another matter, and whatever Tabby had tossed into his face still had him reeling. The knife had gone deep, and he tamed the flow of blood by pressing his hand to the wound. At any other time of the year he would head to the ER for stitches, but not in any week approaching an equinox or a solstice. His presence would play hell with the hospital equipment.
He pressed against the wound and did his best to concentrate, to remain lucid. A serial killer who knew what he could do. It was a nightmare. Tabby wouldn’t go from town to town, not anymore. She would send him ghost after ghost after ghost, each one of them begging him for justice. She would play this game of hers until one of them was dead. Gideon’s thinking grew more and more muddled. He hadn’t lost that much blood, yet he felt weaker now than he had when the knife had cut into his flesh. It hadn’t been sand she’d tossed into his eyes, hoping to blind him, but some kind of drug that was stealing his reason. He pressed his hand against the wound with more force. He wished for numbness, but the deep gash hurt like hell.
The lights of the coffee shop whirled, and he blinked against the oddly shifting brightness. The streetlamps above grew oblong and faded and fuzzy, and his heart wasn’t pumping right. It was off beat, out of tune. In the back of his mind, Gideon knew he should be trying to get up, but more than the pain in his leg kept him immobile. His entire body was heavy, and he couldn’t manage to focus on anything for more than a split second. He could think just clearly enough to know that this was bad. Very bad.
A moment later Hope was headed back toward him, moving a little more slowly than she’d been when she’d first chased after Tabby, but still moving fast. She didn’t maintain her shape any better than the lights above, and he blinked against the misty vision. How on earth was she able to run in those heels?
“I lost her,” she said breathlessly. “Shit, she was right there, and I…” She shook off her frustration and dropped down to her haunches beside him. “You look terrible. You called for backup and an ambulance, right?”
“No.” His lips felt numb and heavy as he answered.
She reached for her cell phone. “You didn’t call this in? Dammit, Raintree…”
He placed his hand on her wrist before she could dial. “No hospital. No backup. I just need you to drive me home.”
“Home!” She moved his hand and peeled aside a portion of sliced fabric, then grimaced at his injury. “I don’t think so.” She pressed her surprisingly strong hand over the wound. “You need a doctor.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You’re going to have to tell her,” Lily Clark said with a shake of her red head.
“I can’t,” he answered.
“You already said that.” Hope lifted her hand slightly and looked again at the gash in his leg, what she could see past the torn trousers. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“She’ll understand,” Lily said, almost kindly.
“No, she won’t,” Gideon said. He was feeling the loss of blood, as well as…something else. “No one ever understands.”
“Understands what?” Hope asked. “Raintree, don’t lose it on me.” She tried to regain control of her cell phone so she could call 911, but Gideon still had enough strength to hold her off.
Maybe Lily was right. He hadn’t trusted anyone with his secret in a long time. A very long time. Tabby knew. Did that mean the secret was out? Or soon would be? He glanced to the side to study the ghost’s pale face, a face only he could see. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe I can tell her the truth.”
Lily nodded and smiled.
“She’s going to think I’m crazy,” he said.
The redhead laid a hand on his forehead, and he felt her cold touch very distinctly. He saw ghosts every day, talked to them frequently, but they rarely touched him in any way. Never like this. “Don’t be like me, Gideon,” Lily said. “Don’t hold yourself back so much. Live well, and leave a big hole when the time comes for you to go.”
He shook his head.
“Tell her.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“Dammit, Raintree, you’re scaring the crap out of me,” Hope said softly, and he could hear the concern in her voice.
Gideon turned his head to look up at Hope Malory. His head reeled. His leg didn’t hurt that badly anymore, and though Hope’s image was foggy, he could see that she was worried. He could see that she cared, even though she didn’t want to care about him or anyone else. He hadn’t told anyone what he could do in such a long time, and the last time…the last time it hadn’t worked out too well.
“I didn’t mean t
o scare you,” he said. “I was just talking to Lily Clark.”
Hope leaned slightly toward him. “Raintree, Lily Clark is dead.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Someone from the coffee shop had finally noticed the excitement on the boardwalk, and a few curious people walked toward him. He didn’t have much time. “Remember when I told you I talk to dead people?”
“Yeah,” Hope said.
“It was the truth.”
Raintree was suffering from hallucinations. That was it.
Hope pressed against his injury harder. Hallucinations from a nasty but relatively minor knife wound to the thigh? It didn’t make sense.
“That’s not possible. I’m going to call 911 now…”
“There’s no time to argue. I can’t go to a hospital this week.”
This week? “Raintree…”
“Watch this,” he said tersely, then turned his gaze toward the nearest streetlamp. In an instant the light exploded in a shower of sparks. The people who were approaching from the coffee shop stuttered and stepped back. “And the next,” Raintree said softly. Another streetlamp exploded. “The next?”
“Not necessary,” she said softly, turning toward the other people, who were approaching once again. She mustered a smile for them.
“Should I call an ambulance?” the burly man in the lead called. He looked like he was in charge, but this wasn’t the manager they’d spoken to earlier in the week.
“No, thanks,” Hope said, sounding calm. “My friend here had a little bit too much to drink and fell, and I think he got a splinter or something in his leg. If you’ve got a towel or some bandages or something, I’ll patch him up and take him home.”
It was an uninteresting explanation, and the other onlookers turned away. “Sure,” the man said, sounding disappointed. “I have a first aid kit with plenty of bandages.”
“Cool,” Hope said gratefully.
“Cool,” Raintree echoed when the man from the coffee shop had walked away to fetch the bandages. “So you believe me?”
“Of course not,” she said sternly.
“But you—”
“I believe something is up. I just haven’t figured out what yet.”
“I told you…” Suddenly Raintree turned his head and looked at a large expanse of air. “Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also stubborn as all get out.”
“Talking to Lily Clark’s ghost again?” Hope snapped.
Gideon leaned toward her. “She thinks you should be more open-minded.”
“Oh, she does?”
“Yeah.” Gideon looked puzzled for a moment, and then he added, “I haven’t lost enough blood to feel this woozy. She tossed something in my face. A drug of some kind. Maybe even poison. This isn’t good. I need to get out of here.”
“You need a hospital.”
“No. Lily says you’ll take good care of me.”
“That don’t look like a splinter to me.”
Hope’s head snapped up, and she saw the man from the coffee shop staring down, suspicion in his eyes.
“Big splinter,” Hope said as she took the bandages from him.
“Are you sure…?”
Hope flashed her badge at the big guy, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Never mind. None of my business.”
“I’ll get replacements for these bandages to you as soon as I get the chance,” Hope promised.
“No problem,” the man said as he backed away. “Don’t worry about it.” He clearly didn’t quite believe her story, but he wasn’t going to stir up trouble and maybe even bring some of that trouble to his own door.
Hope quickly bandaged Raintree’s thigh, padding it thickly and then tying the dressing tight. He was definitely hallucinating, and he needed more care than she could give him. She quickly explained away the exploding streetlamps. He had a secret gizmo hidden somewhere, and he’d used it to short out the electrical connection somehow. Maybe it had even been a coincidence. He’d seen the lights flickering, played the long shot, and won. He certainly hadn’t made the lights explode simply by looking at them. Common sense dictated that she lead Gideon out of here, put him in his Mustang and drive him to the ER.
“You still don’t believe me,” he said, his voice growing thicker. Was it possible that he really had been drugged? She would let a doctor figure that out. She certainly wasn’t a doctor. Hell, she wasn’t even a halfway decent babysitter. In years past she’d proven time and again that she couldn’t even keep a goldfish alive.
“I’m sorry, Raintree,” she said as she helped him up. It wasn’t easy, since he was heavy and unsteady, but they managed. With her support, they should be able to get to the car and from there to the hospital. Their progress was slow, as they took one careful step and then another. To the small crowd who watched from the coffee shop, he probably did look drunk. Just as well. It was an easier explanation than the truth—whatever that might be.
Raintree muttered something low and indistinct.
“What?” Hope asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” he said gruffly.
“Of course you weren’t,” she answered.
A few more steps, and Raintree spoke again. “Touch her,” he commanded. “You can, you know. Most ghosts can’t affect the physical, but you’re different, Lily. Your energy is more bound to this earth than most spirits, and if you concentrate and really, really try…”
“Cut it out, Raintree,” Hope snapped. “This isn’t funny anymore.” Her steps faltered when it felt as if a sliver of ice brushed past her cheek, barely chilling her with its touch.
“She touched you,” Raintree said as he took a small, pained step. He looked down at Hope and smiled. “Your cheek. The left one, just beneath the cheekbone.”
Hope’s heart stuttered much as her step had done a moment earlier. The iciness touched her stomach, as if an invisible finger had reached through her clothes.
“Stomach,” Raintree said, the single word oddly heavy.
Hope licked her lips. “I don’t know how you’re doing that…”
The coldness wrapped itself around her ears. Both of them.
“Ears,” Raintree muttered.
They walked beneath a streetlamp. The bulb didn’t explode, but it did flicker a few times and then go out. Raintree turned his head back and looked up. “I can’t control the energy right now. If I go into a hospital, stuff attached to sick people is going to start blowing up.” He sounded a little drunk. No, he sounded a lot drunk. “Take me home, partner. Trust me.”
Hope Malory didn’t trust anyone, not anymore. She especially didn’t trust cheesy parlor tricks and unbelievable explanations. But after she put Gideon into the passenger seat of the Mustang and pulled onto the road, she didn’t head to the hospital. She drove toward Wrightsville Beach.
Whatever Tabby had tossed into his face was beginning to wear off. It hadn’t been a lethal poison or he would be getting worse instead of better. But it had been a drug of some kind, meant to dull his senses. He would wonder why, but he’d seen Lily Clark’s body and he knew damn well the why of it. She’d wanted to distract him, and she had.
More than that, she’d wanted time with him. She’d wanted the opportunity to torture him.
Gideon slipped the protection charm from beneath his shirt and fingered it gently. Hope would probably say the charm hadn’t protected him at all, but he knew better. The knife could have hit an artery. Tabby could have decided to shoot him instead of taking a stab at his leg. He could be missing a finger right about now.
Hope might not have been behind him, literally watching his back.
“What were you doing there?” he asked.
She muttered a mild curse and kept her eyes on the road, which was deserted at this late hour. The beach was quiet. The houses that lined it were dark.
“I’m just curious,” he added after a few moments of silence.
“That crap about waiting until morning before continuing with the investigation? It just di
dn’t ring true.”
“So you followed me.”
“Yeah. Complaining?”
“Not at the moment.”
Lily wasn’t with them as they drove toward his beach house, but she was still earthbound; he knew that much. Where was she? Watching the crime scene techs study her motel room for evidence? Standing by while the coroner examined her body? Tabby had done a number on the poor woman, and convincing her spirit to move on wouldn’t be easy.
“Once I get you settled, I’m calling a doctor,” Hope said as she pulled into his driveway and hit the remote to open the garage door.
“No,” he said.
“Dammit, Raintree!”
“I don’t need a doctor.”
“I saw the wound,” she said stubbornly as she parked the car. “It’s too deep for you to treat on your own, and I sure as hell can’t take care of it. I shouldn’t have humored you by bringing you home, I know, but…”
“You’re already forgetting how it felt when she touched you,” he said. “And you’re forgetting that I saw where she touched you.”
“Nice trick, Raintree,” she said as she rounded the car. “One day you’ll have to tell me how you do that.”
“It’s not a trick,” he said as she opened his car door and bent down to help him stand. She kept her arm around him as they headed for the stairs that led to a door off the kitchen. The trip up those stairs would be slow, but with Hope’s assistance he would make it. He hated knowing he needed anyone, but right now…right now she was his partner.
“All life is electrical,” he said as they climbed, one slow step at a time. “Electricity keeps your heart beating, makes your brain work, keeps the spirit here even after the body is dead. Do you really want a technical explanation? Sorry, I don’t feel up to that right now. Takes too long. Electrons, another vibrational level, does any of that make sense to you?”
“It’s not plausible,” she said sensibly.
“Electricity can also cause muscles and organs like the uterus to convulse, often with interesting and even pleasurable results.”
Raintree: Haunted Page 9