Wraith

by Phaedra Weldon

  The detective dropped his fork with a clank on his plate. “What if it’s the same woman who attacked you? This Mitsuri woman? She’s the assassin.”

  I looked up at him. It was a logical leap. Not the right one, but logical.

  “She was in Hirokumi’s office, apparently spying on him, and she obviously didn’t want me in there—which now makes sense with all that mumbo jumbo about evil spirits. She sees you, and probably had me under surveillance, then sees me with you, so attacks you—nearly kills you—because you see her leaving Rollins’s place.” He beamed. He looked so good when he beamed like that. “I already put out an APB on this woman—hopefully it’ll turn up something. And don’t forget—there’s an officer watching your building.”

  Yay.

  Once we’d finished, I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pint of Brewster’s Praline. Not exactly the chocolatey goodness of Java Chocolate Chip—but its sugary-sweet caramel would hit the spot.

  “You sure you should eat that?”

  I eyeballed him over the two bowls and my just-purchased Ronco Ice Cream Scooper (guaranteed not to stick to the ice cream). “You gonna stop me?”

  Daniel stood, his chair scraping against my hardwood. Any other time I might have protested his rough treatment of my chair and my floor. But I liked the look in his eyes as he neared me.

  I sort of forgot the scoop as the detective (oh I love it when they’re taller than me!) moved around the counter. He stood close, facing me. I looked up at him—and the look in those beautiful eyes made all the right places grow warm and tingly.

  Oh yes, yes, yes. I sighed as he reached up and stroked my cheek softly with his hand. It was warm and full of electricity. If I really stepped back and thought about it, this sort of behavior was a bit fast.

  We’d only met a few days ago, and that’d been happenstance in a pub (and I’d technically been a ghost and something he didn’t believe in).

  But he’d been outside my condo last night—that much he’d admitted since Rhonda had seen him.

  He liked me. He really liked me!

  His hand moved from my cheek to my throat, and he gingerly touched the rough, red bruises there. It hurt just a little and I couldn’t squelch the flinch.

  “I’m sorry.” He removed his hand.

  My heart and hopes crashed to the floor, and I grabbed his hand and brought it back up to my face. “Please—it’s okay.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “You saw me eat my weight in chicken and potatoes.”

  He grinned. Beautiful, straight white teeth. “Yeah…you have quite an appetite.” His hand dropped from my face to my shoulder and ran down my arm to the front of my waist to my hips. Oohhhhhh…don’t stop!

  Daniel’s expression grew serious. “You have a way about you, Zoë Martinique—something that attracts me. From the moment I saw you in Fadó’s. I’m—I’m not sure I know what it is. I barely know you.”

  Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me…

  “We barely know each other,” I said, and I noticed the breathlessness to my voice. Oh—I was a goner, and if he didn’t kiss me soon or put his hand in special places, it was gonna be Mr. Vibrator tonight.

  I was reeeeeeally tired of Mr. Vibrator.

  He came closer, lowering his face to mine. “I’m not usually this forward…” His voice was breathless too, and his eyelids were lazy.

  “Daniel…”

  He moved his beautifully shaped upturned nose over my forehead, then down the side of my face to my cheek. “If this is too fast…I shouldn’t get involved with a potential witness…”

  “Daniel…”

  Oh. Oh. Oh. I found my own hands doing their thing along his hips. They snaked their way up and around his lean, strong back. “Zoë…I’m not sure this is…”

  “Shut up and kiss me.” And I didn’t give him another opportunity to answer. My libido—long denied the pleasures of man-flesh—dove right into my carnal needs. I pressed my lips over his, delighting in his smells and tastes.

  His tongue danced along with mine as our hands roamed over each other’s bodies. We were a perfect fit and I felt the incredible hardness of his mighty sword against my pelvic bone and pressed my hips into him.

  Unless that was his gun.

  He moaned and leaned down over me, almost lifting me up off my feet. Nope. Not a gun, but definitely loaded.

  He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my chin, then pressed his lips and teeth to my neck.

  I gasped at the pain from the bruising there, and he pulled back abruptly.

  “Oh God—Zoë, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry—I forgot.” His expression just melted my wee-little heart! He looked crushed, like a child who’d hurt the bug he’d been playing with. Torn off the leg and—Oh bad analogy. Geezuz Zoë.

  Scratch that. He looked cute. And I pulled him back to me, pressing my lips into his and erasing his fear of hurting me. Passion, lust, desire, yearning, thirst…

  Oh those were definitely the words rotating around in my head. And if we didn’t move to my bedroom to my nice, soft, warm sheets, I was going to take him here—in the middle of my kitchen.

  I nibbled on his full lower lip and traced my tongue down his throat to that sexy dip at the base of his neck between his collarbone. He moaned again, and I swear I orgasmed right then.

  “Are…” he said softly. “Are you…sure?”

  Sure? Was he kidding?

  To make my point that I wanted sex now, I grabbed hold of the zipper on his jeans and slowly pulled it down. He gasped.

  Oh, I was sure.

  Now if I could just…

  A phone rang.

  Ah! Murphy—you suck!

  It was his phone—that cursed circus tune. Which immediately turned my stomach. I searched his body looking for the damned thing so I could drown it.

  But Daniel grabbed my hands and pulled away, taking his warmth with him. I felt my lower lip do that large boo-boo lip thing. He squeezed my hands. “Let me shut it off.” He grinned. “Christ, you’re beautiful. Your eyes aren’t really brown—they’re glowing topaz—and they’re so turned on right now. Hold that thought…”

  Hurry! My engines are overheating!

  If the tune wasn’t that infernal circus one, I’d have said ignore the damned phone.

  Daniel half jogged to the living room and grabbed at his suit jacket. He pulled out his phone and looked at the face. His expression sharpened, and he frowned. “Zoë, I gotta take this. It’s Cooper.”

  Mother fucker-damnshit fire.

  Ooh. I got a worse potty mouth than the Reverend—but at least I didn’t say things like that out loud.

  I looked at the opened pint of ice cream and decided I’d better put it in the freezer. No need to let any kind of sweet goodness go to waste. Unless I drizzled it over his naked body later.

  Daniel spoke in a low voice and moved even farther way.

  Uh-oh.

  I knew from his body language something was wrong. And not just the red flags that announced our steamy little night had just abruptly ended.

  Something had happened, bad or serious enough for the captain to call Daniel.

  I watched him hang up and put the jacket on.

  I pouted. Daniel turned a very serious face to me and was beside me in three steps. He had his hands on my shoulders, his body close. “I have to go—something’s come up. But I’ll be back, okay?”

  I nodded. “Is it the Tanaka case?”

  He hesitated and set his phone on the counter. I frowned at him. “Daniel Frasier—don’t you cut me out of this.”

  “I just can’t say right now. But what I do suspect is that your life is still in danger, as long as this woman is still out there. Promise me when I leave you’ll lock the doors and set the alarms. Maybe call your mom to come back over and stay with you?”

  I shook my head. Uh, no. “I’ll be fine. But you’ll be back?”

  “Maybe—it depends on what I find. I have to go.”

  I grabbed his ha
nd. He took me into his arms and buried his face in my hair and my neck, careful this time not to hurt me. “Just please, stay here tonight. And don’t let anyone in you don’t know.” Like I would do that? I nodded, and he kissed me again.

  My thighs swelled.

  I cursed Cooper for calling, hoping his penis would swell to the size of a deformed zucchini. All rough and lumpy too. Phhht.

  Daniel grabbed his coat and was out the door. “Lock it!” he called back.

  I did and turned. I had a mess to clean in the kitchen, and I didn’t feel like touching a thing. I was still hot and bothered, and more awake now than I’d been in two days. I thought of Mr. Vibrator and my now-wet sweats.

  Nah—I was gonna save myself for when he came back. If he came back.

  But what to do in the meantime? I thought about the phone call and its fracked-up timing—

  And that’s when I remembered more of Rollins’s conversation. He’d threatened Daniel. Even mentioned setting Hirokumi up with the detective’s death.

  I stopped in place. And now he gets a mysterious phone call he doesn’t tell me about. Crap! I need to tell him. Warn him!

  It was then I saw his phone on the counter.

  Damn!

  My mind played out all sorts of nasty scenarios, from Daniel ending up under a truck to being found in Lake Lanier.

  Or worse…at the hand end of Trench-Coat. Rollins had to be planning something, and I had no idea how to warn Daniel. Unless…

  I spied on Rollins again.

  No, no, no…it was stupid. I knew I wasn’t in the best health physically. I’d just slept for fifteen hours, and before that I’d been unconscious for six.

  But if I just watched the Reverend, and didn’t exert myself, then maybe I could follow Rollins or find out what he wanted Beckett and Tiny to do to Daniel Frasier.

  Mom would kill me. But what about Daniel? Damn…after that little almost-fuck I wanted him back here. I just couldn’t sit here and not do anything!

  But how to get there? I didn’t dare call Rhonda—not after what had just happened. And if Mom got word, she’d drug me or something. She’d done it once.

  I made sure the pills Mom gave me were still in my pocket.

  I could always drive myself, and park nearby. I’d only gone astral outside of my condo a few times, but Mom or Tim or someone had always watched my body. If someone came along and found me, they’d think I was dead.

  But if I left my body here, I’d have to take the bus or hitch a ride, and there was no guarantee I’d get to where I wanted to go—and definitely not in a speedy way.

  As I watched the chicken sit there, I came up with a plan. I’d jump from my car, but I’d put my body in the trunk. There was an emergency release, and as long as the car was parked in a safe location, no one would bother it. There was a MARTA Park ‘n’ Ride near Rollins’s estate, and the cars there were patrolled by the MARTA police.

  Yeah, they were more rent-a-cops than real police, but it was less likely someone would steal the Mustang from there, with me in it.

  I’d take my phone too, and Daniel’s. I could maybe call Cooper if something awful happened.

  I had a plan. In hindsight, it was a stupid one, but I needed to watch Daniel. I needed to know Rollins’s goons weren’t going to use him as leverage against Hirokumi.

  And it all seemed like such a good idea at the time. I only wish in hindsight I’d taken my pills and stayed in bed.

  18

  SINCE I didn’t want my body to be found in a cat-burglar suit (not that I expected it to be found—but just to be cautious) I wore regular clothes.

  And I realized how not well I was when I nearly collapsed onto the bed just from putting on thick wool socks (I might not get cold in astral form, but my body sure as hell could—especially jammed in the trunk of a car), my black sneakers, red turtleneck, black fleece pullover, and gloves. After lying on the bed for a good ten minutes, I figured my sweats would do. Screw the jeans.

  On that same note, I decided against a braid this time, as my hair was a bit warmer on the ears if I left it down. And I wasn’t sure I could keep my arms up that long to braid it.

  Traffic sucked.

  But it was a Friday night and I should have expected that. I had my cell with me in the pocket of the shirt, Daniel’s in the other pocket, and a gallon of orange juice stashed in the trunk.

  Hey…I was still thirsty.

  It was also colder than I thought it’d be. I smelled rain when I stepped outside, and I used a few words in frustration for my lack of checking out the Weather Channel.

  Not that I’d have learned Atlanta’s weather right away—but I’d have known the temperature of California.

  I parked the Mustang in the Park n’ Ride as planned. Unfortunately several boys in their early teens were gathered several feet away near a trash can in which someone had started a fire. I wasn’t about to climb into my trunk with a bunch of kids around—that would make things too curious. I’d have to wait till they left.

  Which took them about fifteen minutes. I’m not sure if it was me in my car that made them nervous, but eventually they moved as a group out of the parking lot and disappeared into the night air.

  There were several other cars, including another late-model ‘Stang, so I didn’t feel so conspicuous.

  Now getting into the car’s trunk—that was probably going to look weird. Shivering, I popped the top, looked around for a MARTA cop. When I didn’t see any, I jumped in and slammed it shut.

  Odd—was that what a coffin lid sounded like? ‘Cause it sure as hell had the impression of finality to it.

  Mental note: ew. Must be Rhonda rubbing off on me.

  I pulled the blanket and Granny’s quilt over me, checked to make sure I knew where the emergency release was, then closed my eyes.

  Going astral, or Wraithing out, or whatever I was doing, took a bit longer than expected—and I chalked it up to being a bit tired.

  Duh—yah think?

  But finally I separated from my body and found myself just outside the car. Passing through the metal of the car was a lot like passing through glass, only not as cold. I did keep a sort of tin taste in my mouth though.

  Now I had a three-mile hike to the house.

  Go me.

  There were a few dogs that barked at me—remember that animal thing? I growled back at them, and they ran off squealing like pigs. Okay, that was new.

  Cool. I’m spooky!

  Though I couldn’t feel it in this form, I could see the wind bowing the trees around. Dead leaves of brown, orange, and yellow twisted and fluttered like nighttime butterflies under the streetlights.

  Yeah, it was gonna rain all right. And it was going to be nasty.

  I finally made it to Rollins’s house about a half hour later. The whole place was lit up, a bit more intensely than the night before. I realized then that I’d lost an entire day thanks to creepy Mitsuri. I’d slept it all away—and that’s a day I wasn’t going to get back.

  Mental note: grab dragon artifact and shake it really hard.

  I sieved through the gate and started across the yard again when this time I heard the dogs. They were near the house and barking loudly.

  Shit.

  I hunched down and moved as quietly as I could (not to attract the pooch factor) around the wall. There was something happening in the driveway at the front door. Two limousines were parked outside and several of Rollins’s WWE stooges stood around, guns drawn.

  Guns?

  What the hell was going on? I didn’t see Daniel, and I hoped he wasn’t stuffed in a trunk.

  I moved around the edges of the house’s light, noting the dogs—really big black Dobermans—moving about the guards. I had to admit a bit of surprise when a guard here or there petted one of the ferocious beasties on the head.

  I guess like attracts like, huh?

  Rollins stepped outside, flanked by Beckett and Tiny (heh-heh), and they both had guns in their hands. I had to wonder wh
at had happened to incite such a show of force.

  They stepped inside the nearest limo. I needed to make sure Daniel, or someone else, wasn’t in one of those trunks.

  Two of the trunks were opened and I looked in each. Nothing. Actually—they were all very clean for trunks, Not even a fast-food bag.

  The limo nearest Rollins was closed. Keeping an eye on the poochies, I sieved into the trunk. Oh. Yuck. It was like sucking on a nail.

  It was a spacious area, and being astral, I could see better back here. There were several lengths of rope, duct tape, and two pillowcases.

  Okay—I’m not criminally minded—but even I saw these items as kidnap paraphernalia. Bingo. I knew I’d been right to head out to Rollins’s at that instant.

  They were on their way to somehow kidnap my cop. And just think how cool it’d be if I tagged along and foiled them all by warning him? I checked my watch. Forty minutes out, tops. I had over three hours left. If I paid attention, I could maybe even go corporeal to help him whip out a can of whup-ass.

  Heh. Ow. Headache.

  The limo started forward. I could hear Rollins talking but not well enough to understand what he was saying. I guessed from his cadence and the lack of another voice responding that he was on the phone.

  I wanted to sieve through and sit inside to watch—but I didn’t want to risk there being another Mitsuri creature lurking about.

  We drove for a while. I was surprised how smooth the shocks were, even in the trunk. I need to get me one of these.

  The irony of me riding astrally inside a trunk while my body lay inside the trunk of my own car wasn’t lost on me. Rhonda would think it was cool. Mom would think it was a sign. A sign of me going crazy.

  My opinion?

  I was starting to get creeped out.

  When the limo stopped, I checked my watch. We’d been on the road half an hour. That left…just under three hours. I waited till I heard the same number of doors close that opened. Voices again.

  And then the trunk was opened.

  Yikes!

  Beckett bent in, shoved his hand through my stomach and grabbed some rope and a roll of duct tape.

  For the brief instance his skin connected with my astral form, I saw what he was thinking of—