I rolled my eyes. “How about you tell me your name, and I’ll just call you that?”
“Ian Clarke,” the ghost said with a bow. “At your service.”
“When did you die, the 1800s?”
“Generally, when one person introduces themselves, the other does as well. But why stand on ceremony when we can simply discuss my death?” He clasped his hands behind his back and regarded me coldly.
“Sorry,” I said, chagrined. “Boston Kane. Nice to meet you.”
“Boston? What a unique name. Were you named for the city?”
The weirdest thing about his statement was from any other person, it would have sounded like an insult. Who the hell names their kid Boston anyway? But from Ian, it was genuine.
“Um, yeah. My dad grew up there.”
“I visited once in my childhood,” Ian told me fondly, his gaze taking on a far away look as if he were being transported to that time. “Very large place.”
“Can we return to your death, please?” I asked, exasperated. “When, where, and how?”
“1875. Here at Horeland Estate. My brother-in-law murdered me.”
My eyes widened involuntarily. “Why?”
“I do not know, Miss Kane. I was never given the opportunity to ask him.”
He was so matter-of-fact. Even Sherrie got teary eyed when we talked about her death. I’d had Shades scream at me, throw temper tantrums, even physically throw objects at mention of their death. Ian Clarke talked about his murder as if it were no more important than the weather.
“You’re the Ian on the plaque. On the apple tree,” I clarified.
“I am. My family wished to memorialize me, yet never found my body. Rather than dig me an empty grave, my sister-in-law planted a tree. The plaque came much later, before her natural death.”
“You’re not a Horeland,” I said, finally catching the in-law references.
Ian shook his head once. “No. I married into the family.”
“Do you know where your body is?”
Ian shook his head once. “There was a period of sleep after I passed. When I awoke, my body was gone and my brother-in-law was dead.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“He fell down the stairs. A tragic accident.”
“Not so tragic, I think.”
Ian grinned, a hint of mischievousness in it. “Not very, no.”
I tried to piece together the ghost in front of me with the dark energy I’d felt during my tour with Madison yesterday. Even with Ian standing before me, he was hard to feel, as if he’d been earthbound for so long he was almost human. I couldn’t read humans the way I could read spirits. I always joked it was because a human’s “earthly shell” dampened my ability to reach their insides.
But Ian definitely wasn’t the entity putting off the evil presence from the stairwell. That, I was sure.
“Is there another spirit here?” I asked him, my gaze inadvertently heading southwards. His shoulders were just so… shapely, and the material of his shirt so thin. Men weren’t made this way now, and I found myself bemoaning the fact. Five minutes in his presence, and I was drooling over him.
Which was ridiculous. I mean, for God’s sake, the man was dead. I’d seen plenty of dead guys in my life, and some of them had been hot, but I’d never felt attracted to them! What was wrong with me?
Ian’s visage darkened. “No. There is nothing here but me.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“There is nothing here with which you need to concern yourself, Miss Kane. I have the situation well at hand.”
“Oh, really?” I said with a laugh. “So you think you have whatever else is here under control? This black shadow that seems to follow you around?”
Ian drew himself to his full height — hard to do, considering he had the posture of a seventeenth-century noblewoman. If he got any straighter, he’d bang his head on the ceiling. Or stretch it right off. “I am quite capable of handling this house.”
It was something about the way he said “this house” that gave me pause. There was more meaning to that than he’d meant to let on, I could tell. “ ‘This house’,” I repeated, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I mused. “You’re telling me the house is possessed?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Kane. Houses cannot be possessed.” There was no heat to the statement. It was more weary than anything.
“I know that you have some kind of weird, old-fashioned sense of the man in charge or damsel in distress or something,” I told him, crossing my arms. “But I’m a professional ghost hunter.”
“You seek out spirits? And just how many have you managed to ‘professionally’ banish?”
He had me there.
“None. Yet,” I rushed to add.
Ian clasped his hands behind his back, his face expressionless. “Miss Kane, I appreciate your concern over Horeland Estate. However, I can handle it.”
“Mister Clarke,” I retorted, “I appreciate your concern, but this is my sister’s home now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Ian grimaced. “Indeed.”
In the next moment, he was gone.
Chapter Twelve
I passed the stairwell, dark and gloomy hovering above an inky foyer, as I headed towards the south end of the second floor hallway. From what Madison had told me, they rarely used any of these rooms, so most of them were black holes, the furniture nothing but sheet-covered landmines ready to release a pound of dust at the touch of a hand. I couldn’t fathom having so many rooms in my home that I never stepped foot inside them.
Near one of the farthest rooms, I felt the dark energy again. Now that I’d come face to face with Ian — God help me — even though his signature was creepily nonexistent, I could tell this particular entity wasn’t him. It was definitely a second ghost, someone different entirely. A bad different, like an odor you couldn’t erase.
I followed the energy like a dog on a scent, finding it stronger once I’d stepped into the bedroom. The curtains were closed tightly in the beam of my flashlight, so no ambient light from the moon could seep in. I saw a bed, uncovered, and various other pieces of furniture indistinguishable beneath blankets.
I walked the perimeter of the room, slowly circling inside in a spiral pattern, using my senses more than my equipment to try to get a bead on what I was feeling.
Nothing good.
I didn’t feel the shift in the air. I didn’t sense anything, until I lifted my flashlight beam towards the ceiling and found a lamp barreling through the air towards my head.
I squeaked, because obviously my vocal cords had fled on sight. Then I closed my eyes and waited for the impact.
An impact that didn’t come.
His scent surrounded me, as real as any human man’s. I felt real warmth from his body as I opened my eyes and found Ian standing in front of me, the lamp in his hand at head height — my head. He was so close, I could have wrapped my arms around him.
But that was an insane thought.
“Excuse me!” I snapped, stepping away from him on shaky legs. When all else fails, go on defense. “Have you been following me?”
“Of course I’ve been following you, you silly girl. For just such an occasion.” He tossed the lamp aside, where it hit what looked like a couch beneath a sheet. “If it weren’t for my ‘following you’, you’d be unconscious on the floor. A ‘thank you’ would suffice.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“No, of course not. I should simply let lamps hit you in your pretty face, then.” He smiled indulgently. “Do not worry. I am capable of dialing nine-one-one, though I shall warn you, they cannot hear me over the telephone wires. Hopefully you’ll be conscious enough to scream.”
He disappeared again.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t still around. Ian obviously liked having the last word before he vanished into thin air. Coward.
“Why is this room significant?” I asked quietly, going for nonconfrontational. I
an and I had some serious sparks between us, but not in a good way. Could you butt heads with a ghost? Why, yes, you could.
He was silent so long I started to think he had left. His disembodied voice finally answered. “I was unaware this room had any significance. Why do you ask?”
“Whoever else is in this house with you feels stronger here.”
“This particular room has remained empty since the day my brother-in-law passed.”
“The one who ‘tragically’ fell down the stairs?” I clarified.
“The same.”
“Then it stands to reason the other entity here is your brother-in-law.”
Ian reappeared, his guard up. In the direct beam of my flashlight, he looked so solid. Even Sherrie wavered in and out of focus some days, especially when she expended energy picking things up and moving things around. Manifesting didn’t seem to cause Ian any problems at all. He’d grabbed that lamp out of the air and tossed it away like a toy, never losing his human appearance.
“I appreciate that you feel a burning desire to protect this house and its inhabitants yourself, but this is my sister we’re talking about,” I told him, going for firm but falling short because the muscles in his forearms distracted me.
Could ghosts work out?
“The lady of the house is your sister?” Ian’s brow wrinkled as he gave me a onceover. “You look nothing alike.”
I glared at him. “That’s not the point, Earthbound.”
Ian relented with a short bow. “My apologies, Miss Kane. Might I say you are much more ravishing than the Lady Horeland.”
I couldn’t help it. I flushed like a little girl. Madison was always the “pretty sister.” So yeah, a compliment could disarm me.
“Spill,” I said, hoping he couldn’t see my red cheeks in the dark. “Is the malevolent spirit your brother?”
Ian took a deep breath before speaking. “Brother-in-law, Miss Kane. And no, it is not he. I do not know what you would call the entity that resides here. It has neither gender nor form. It manifests as shadow and can affect its surroundings much like myself. It seems to rest inside the walls, manipulating the structure of the house.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Let me show you.” He offered me an arm.
“I’m good, thanks. Just lead the way.” I waved him on, my face still hot. The last thing I needed to do was have more intimate contact with this particular ghost.
*
I’d never actually been inside a house where the attic was anything more than a hole in the ceiling and a ladder to access it — much like the Albert Street Murder House. Just the thought of that place made me shudder. I’d barely managed to get out of there uninjured, and I still didn’t know why.
Trevor was nowhere in sight on the third floor — presumably conducting his investigation in one of the eight bedrooms. An unlocked door opened to a narrow staircase so old and worn the steps sagged in the center. My boots were loud on the worn carpet.
So were Ian’s.
“You walk on the ground,” I said, whirling to face him as we crested the landing.
That infernal eyebrow raised again. “Would you prefer I walk on the ceiling?”
I put my hands on my hips rather than throttling him. “Ghosts don’t walk. Not like humans.”
“Again, you make me less than human.” The corner of his lip tilted up in a half-smile way too sexy for a ghost. “I’m beginning to think, in your opinion, I am nothing more than an animal to be studied.”
I felt an insane urge to fan myself between the half-smile and the idea of “studying” him. “You’re right. I’m being insensitive. Sorry.”
Nothing seemed out of place at first glance. An attic was an attic, filled with years of priceless memories and mountains of worthless junk. My flashlight danced over boxes and old cribs and armoires as I followed Ian across the wide room.
“Here.” He stopped at the far wall; the front of the house, if my sense of direction wasn’t compromised. He pointed at a window set deep in the wall. “This gable is not original to the house.”
“What do you mean?”
“This creature gets into the walls. They begin to heave, as if they’re breathing. They shift inch by inch.” Ian shook his head, flashing me a wry grin. “I know it sounds odd, but I assure you, this creature is reshaping the house.”
“I’ve never heard of a ghost that could do that,” I said, horrified at the very thought. First, an Earthbound who, for all intents and purposes, seemed human, and now another entity that could physically change its surroundings.
I was in way over my head here.
“Miss Kane,” Ian said, his voice going so low I felt it in my toes. “I’m not sure this creature is a ghost.”
In the silence following his proclamation, I heard it. A gentle exhalation and a groaning. I turned my flashlight to the window and watched, dumbfounded, as the walls breathed. Like a person’s chest, they rose and fell. A rippling wave rushed across the plaster, changing the appearance ever so slightly I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t seen it happen.
I walked backwards, wanting to distance myself from the walls. On my second step, I backed into Ian.
His warm hands came around me to rest on my arms, my back flush to his front. His touch was gentle but strong, as if he planned on holding me up if I fell.
I really thought he would, too.
“It is a tad disorienting the first time one sees it,” Ian murmured, his voice rumbling through me.
“It’s unnatural.”
“Nothing about this creature is natural.”
I didn’t want to step away from the warmth of his arms or the steadiness he offered, but I did anyway, so I could turn and catch his eye. “Why do you call it a creature?”
“There is nothing remotely human about it, Miss Kane. It cannot be given the privilege of being referred to as anything but as monster.”
“Call me Boston,” I corrected, a flush rising to my cheeks.
“It has no face or form, Boston. It is a vacuum, black and devoid of life.”
“You’re devoid of life,” I pointed out.
Ian clasped his hands behind his back, smiling. “I think not. If this is an existence ‘devoid of life,’ then it’s quite a good one. I can still drink tea. I read and take walks on the grounds. I like to refer to this as simply another plane of living. The next aspect.”
I couldn’t begrudge him such an ambitious view on his state of being, but that wasn’t the monumental part of his declaration. “Take walks on the grounds?”
“Of course. The woods are stunning at this time of year.”
“You can leave the house?” I gaped at him, thoroughly baffled.
Ian’s gaze turned wary. “Yes, I can, and do often.”
I walked away from him to take a seat on an old trunk, my knees suddenly weak.
“Are you all right?”
Ian had solid footsteps on the hardwood. When he came to a stop beside me, I felt the air move and smelled his woodsy scent.
“You can drink tea?” I croaked.
“Of course. I prefer Earl Grey, however the Lady Horeland doesn’t often keep a store. She prefers green.”
“You challenge every theory I have about Earthbounds,” I told him, staring at his boots.
“I do apologize.”
I glanced up, expecting him to be laughing or smiling, but instead, he gazed down with a sincere frown. “You have nothing to apologize for,” I waved him off. “You’re awesome. You test my boundaries.”
Something flickered in his ice blue gaze. “You test mine, as well.”
“Huh?” I stared blankly at him.
Ian shook his head. “It is nothing. Let us leave this place before the creature makes an appearance.”
“That wasn’t an appearance?” I gasped, pointing at the offensive window.
Offering his hand, Ian murmured, “No. That was not.”
I let him help me up, then stepped aroun
d him to lead the way out. Ian’s hand rested gently on my back to guide me. In that small touch, the gentle shifting of his fingers on the thin strip of bare back beneath my shirt, I recognized him.
“You touched me yesterday!” I whirled around to face him. “In Madison’s office.”
Ian didn’t respond, his face unreadable.
I brought the beam of my flashlight up. “Why?”
He looked away into the darkness of the attic, my flashlight illuminating his handsome face. “You remind me of someone I lost.”
“Who?” I asked, lowering the flashlight.
Ian glanced back at me, sorrow in his eyes. “My wife.”
I paused. “What happened to her?”
“She became sick during our first year of marriage. She was gone only days before our first anniversary.”
“God, I’m so sorry.” To lighten things up, I motioned to my clothes. “Somehow, I don’t think Missus Clarke would have worn this getup.”
Ian chuckled. “No, Miss Kane. She would not have. She preferred paler colors and longer items of clothing.”
“Does this offend you?” I asked, curious how he felt about today’s world. “I mean, not necessarily me, but women today in general. Bare stomachs, low necklines, pants. I’ve never talked so long with someone from your time.”
Then Ian the Earthbound did something I hadn’t expected. His gaze dropped to my tank top, obviously on my cleavage, and then traveled southwards to my belly button. He licked his lips, his breath shallower than before. “No. I do not find it… offensive.”
“You feel desire,” I breathed, stepping forward to study him.
Ian stepped away, clearing his throat. “I am a male, Miss Kane. However, I am also a gentleman. You have nothing to fear.”
“Are you attracted to me because I look like your wife, or are you just attracted to me?”
“I do not know,” Ian snapped, taking another step back as I came forward.
“How is that even possible?” I asked, more to myself than to Ian. “You’re dead. A ghost. But you’re solid and you breathe and…” I’d cornered him against the wall. We’d danced all the way across the attic, the pathways caused by piles of belongings not giving him an easy way out.
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