When her vision cleared, she ran her fingers lightly through his hair, checking for damage, trying not to move his neck, hoping she didn’t find blood. He’d fallen hard. Had he hit his head on the way down?
He groaned. “Shit, that hurts.”
A sobbing breath tore from her throat and she threw herself across his chest, kissed him desperately. He hooked an arm around her neck and kissed her back, his hand tangling in her hair.
She broke away and gasped for air. “Oh God. Your head. Are you okay?”
“Head’s fine. Fell on my arm. But my leg…”
Relief made her light-headed again. “I’m not paying you to take bullets for me.”
He cracked a weak smile. “Okay, I won’t do it again.”
His labored breathing brought her back to her senses.
“We’ve got to stop the bleeding.” Grabbing the end of her witch skirt, she tried to rip it. Unlike in the movies, the fabric didn’t budge. “Crap.”
Lawe pushed to his elbows, looked down at his bloody leg. “It looks worse than it—”
His gaze caught on something behind her and the little bit of color left in his face washed out. “Down,” he shouted, grabbing her and rolling her under his body.
Squashed under his weight, she turned her head. The hard floor mashed up her cheek.
A trail of blood glowed on the white marble, leaking from Anderson’s crushed skull. Black mist rose from his body. Something vaguely head-shaped took form at the top, two black pits opening like eyes.
Terror vise-gripped her ribs. She tried to scrabble back, but Lawe’s body held her in place. His voice rose around them, deep, resonant, chanting in Latin.
Another pit opened in the black mist, a mouth yawning open, and then the thing flew at Lawe, knocking him off her and sending him sliding across the floor.
Holly pushed to her knees, shaking so hard she nearly collapsed. A low growl came from the mist and her head shot up. Those black pits bored into her, and if darkness could look like hate, this was it. The air thickened. She couldn’t breathe. Lawe struggled to his good leg, his words punching into the molasses-like air. A hellish scream tore from the mist-creature’s mouth and it flew at her.
She threw herself backward, scrambling away as spiky tendrils of mist reached for her face. Her hand slipped in Anderson’s blood and she sprawled helplessly on the floor.
A high-pitched sound shrieked though the air and an iridescent shimmer wrapped itself around the mist, spinning and whirling, sailing over her head. There was a ferocious growl, a flash of light, and the entwined ghosts were sucked into Anderson’s body.
The only sound left was her ragged panting.
Lawe limped to her, scooped her against him. Her heart beat fast against his chest. “Are you okay?”
“I…the…what… Oh my God. What was that?”
“Anderson. And Celia. You’ve seen two ghosts now. Big week for you.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope it’s the last week I’ll ever have like this.”
He tensed against her and didn’t respond.
The lights dimmed, came back to full power, then Celia popped into the room. “Heya. Was I awesome or what?”
Holly’s heart gave a weak thump as though it had used up all its power to react. “Tell me Anderson won’t be following you back here.”
“Oh, I pushed him into the light.” Celia grinned. “And by light, I mean the total, utter darkness. He’s gone.”
“Good work.” Lawe sounded beyond tired. They needed to get him to a hospital.
Celia bit her lip, nervousness in her translucent eyes. “I know I promised I’d go as soon as we nailed my killer. But I was wondering…”
“You can stay,” Holly said. “Thanks for saving our lives.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sunshine poured into the entryway when Holly opened the front door the next morning. She stepped back to let Lawe swing his crutches forward and cross the threshold.
Little feet thudded on the hardwood floor and Sadie and Theo threw themselves at Holly’s legs. She scooped them both up and hugged them to her, burying her nose in their sweet, innocent scents. “My babies. I missed you.”
To Holly’s surprise, Theo pulled back from her and turned his head to Lawe. “Hi,” he said, grinning hugely around the thumb in his mouth.
Lawe leaned forward and ruffled Theo’s hair. “Hey, big guy. What’d I miss this morning?”
“Thomas the Train,” Theo said. “See-ya.”
Sadie scowled. “No more Thomas.”
Holly’s mother came into the entryway, her fading blond hair sprayed into a helmet around her head, her pantsuit clean and unrumpled despite a morning with the twins. She pulled Holly into a tight hug. “Thank God you’re okay. I can’t believe Anderson tried to kill you. You think you know someone. And Paul—a criminal as well as a philanderer. It’s almost enough to make me question my intuition when it comes to people.”
Holly sighed. “Who’d have thought?”
Her mother turned to Lawe and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for saving my daughter’s life.”
Lawe’s neck turned a dull red. “We got lucky.”
“Well.” Her mother rubbed her hands together briskly as though dusting off the unpleasantness of the last few days. “I was just about to take Sadie and Theo outside to blow bubbles.”
The twins scrambled after their grandmother, Sadie shouting for the purple bubble wand. Lawe and Holly followed more slowly, his crutches clip-clopping on the marble. Her mother slid the glass door shut, giving Holly a raised eyebrow before turning back to her grandkids.
Not sure what she wanted to say, Holly rummaged in the refrigerator while Lawe settled himself on the couch. “I’ve got quiche if you’re hungry. And, oh, I forgot about this. I tried out a recipe for a bourbon-maple pumpkin pie.” She took the pie from the fridge and set it on the counter, automatically opening cabinets and drawers and pulling out plates, forks, napkins, and a pie server. “I’m thinking about serving it for Thanksgiving. You could taste test it.”
“Maybe later. I’m full up on hospital Jell-o.”
She had to stop babbling about dessert and talk to him. Biting her lip, she moved to the couch and sank onto the cushion next to him.
He pulled the forgotten pie server from her hand and tossed it onto the cluttered coffee table. “You okay?”
She swallowed. She’d rejected him and gotten him shot. He might have decided she wasn’t worth the trouble.
Only one way to find out.
“That bullet wound in your right leg will make it hard to drive,” she said.
His mouth turned down. “Ryan’s picking me up. I’ll be out of your life soon.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She picked up his hand, his warmth seeping into her, though he didn’t squeeze back the way she’d grown used to. He was mad or hurt or both, and she didn’t blame him. His dead-weight hand wasn’t a problem as long as he listened to what she had to say. “The doctor said the bullet wound will heal in a couple of weeks. But I’m guessing your leg will ache from now on. Especially when it rains.”
His brow creased. “I’m not following.”
“Rains a lot in Seattle,” she said reflectively.
He went very still, and then the corners of his lips twitched. “Gloomy too.”
She nodded seriously. “And expensive. And far away. And lonely?”
“Very.” He slipped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
She sighed and rested her head against him, feeling warm and loved and safe. “There’s something I forgot to tell you last night. I’m in love with you.”
“After five days? That’s crazy talk.”
“Someone told me death has a way of clarifying your life. When Anderson abducted me and I thought I was going
to die…I didn’t want to leave Theo or Sadie. Or you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I travel a lot. That’s not going to change.”
“You could make Boulder your home base. It’s sunny here. Nice dry climate. Low crime, except for the occasional fraud and murder. I love you.”
Now that she’d said it, she couldn’t stop saying it. She kissed him, his lips moved softly on hers, and she opened her mouth to him. Five days. That was crazy. And, somehow, exactly right.
His hands moved down her back and her breath quickened. She opened one eye, peeking over his shoulder to see Sadie and her mother blowing bubbles past the partially opened glass door. Maybe Lawe could limp upstairs to her bedroom and they could be very, very careful and sneak in a quickie before…
“Mommy!” The loud shout made her spring back. “I want a hug too.”
Theo stood next to them, eyes wide. Lawe laughed. He pulled her son against his chest, then tugged Holly closer. “Theo sandwich,” Lawe said and Holly’s heart swelled. How had she nearly ruined the best relationship of her life?
“There you go. Good choice this time, Holly.” Celia floated in front of the fireplace.
Theo wriggled out from between them. “Cee-ya!” He raced across the room and held out his hand for a high-five.
Holly’s mouth fell open. What the heck?
“Oh, yeah. Oops.” Celia pretend-patted Theo’s hand. “Forgot you didn’t know about this yet.”
“Cold,” Theo said happily.
Lawe put his arm around her shoulder. “Right. There was something I didn’t get around to telling you last night.”
“That my son can see Celia?”
“Actually, turns out your son sees dead people in general, not just Celia in specific.”
Holly took a moment to absorb that. It wasn’t as hard as it would have been a week ago. “He’s going to need guidance. Someone who understands what he’s going through.” She rested her head on Lawe’s shoulder. He was strong, solid, and fit her just right.
“That’s exactly what he’ll have.”
The promise in his voice made her smile.
He leaned closer, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “Do you think we have time…”
“Holly, your daughter spilled bubbles all over my silk shirt.” Her mother entered the family room, practical acceptance in her voice. “I’m going home to change, but I’ll see you at dinner tonight. Lawe, I hope you can make it too.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Her mother smiled fondly at the two of them. “Good.”
Holly walked her mother to the door, and when she returned to the family room, she saw Celia reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear to Theo, an oblivious Sadie playing with Duplos on the floor, and Lawe leafing through a magazine on her couch, looking exactly like he belonged.
Life was good.
About the Author
Jennifer Savalli loves all things paranormal, chocolate and Whedon. Her writing career began in the third grade when her teacher asked for one sentence on each of six pictures in a series, and she turned in a multipage detective story. Jennifer lives in Colorado with her family, where she spends her days writing about the magic and mayhem of falling in love. Find her on Twitter @JenniferSavalli and on the web at www.jennifersavalli.com.
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Haunted? Call 1-800-GHOST-HUNK.
Must Love Ghosts, Book 1
Tia McGarry believes love is nothing more than a biochemical cocktail, and she’ll have the research to prove it—as soon as she and her calm, stable, almost-fiancé land a research grant.
Her biggest mistake, bad boy ex-boyfriend Dec Mancini, is firmly in her past. But when the ghost of her long-dead great-uncle moves into her living room, Dec is the only paranormal investigator with the skills to get rid of him.
Dec is used to scorn and ridicule, but he never quite got over Tia’s refusal to believe. With irrefutable proof that ghosts exist manifesting in her house, he can finally earn respect for his profession—and maybe find common ground for himself and Tia to rebuild on.
Tia can’t deny their crazy, chaotic chemistry is strong as ever, but as the ghost’s pranks threaten to put her grant out of reach, she must decide which is the greater risk: letting a ghost jeopardize her career, or falling in love with the man who could destroy her safe, stable life.
Warning: Contains lovesick ghosts wreaking havoc, an absent-minded professor with a repressed wild side, and a hunky paranormal investigator who’s decided the best place to start rebuilding is in the friend zone.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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The Exorcist Who Loved Me
Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Savalli
ISBN: 978-1-61923-261-7
Edited by Holly Atkinson
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
The Exorcist Who Loved Me Page 13