She’d have to do some research to find a good asking price. A contractor to do the repairs and haul out the old furniture should be easy to find. A cleaning company would need to do a deep clean before she could move the staging furniture in. It probably wouldn’t hurt to ask Allison to clear the energy in the home as well. Hopefully she could get rid of the eeriness that made the place seem so suffocating.
With her to-do list firmly formed in her mind, Tina turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She towel-dried her hair and glanced at the full-length mirror on the inside of the bathroom door. Who in their right mind would put a mirror right there when you step out of the shower?
She wiped the fog off the glass and looked at her body, running her hands along the curves of her waist and over the saddlebags she had for hips. No matter how hard she tried, her hips would never be as slender as she’d have liked. At least she had nice calves, though they were covered with boots most of the year.
She cupped her hands under her breasts and lifted them. Since she’d turned thirty, it seemed like gravity was getting the best of her. She sighed and ran her hand through her damp locks. “You gotta work what you got, girl.”
She slipped into her favorite pink and green flannel pajamas and climbed into bed. Her pale blue walls and navy bed linens were meant to calm her…lull her to sleep. The colors usually did the trick; she was often asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. But not tonight.
After tossing and turning for half an hour, she switched on the bedside lamp and picked up a book. Half science fiction, half thriller, the novel consisted of a new race of people—born as adults from creation tanks—that would soon rule the world. Their mission was to kill every living human. It was full of suspense, twists and turns—probably not the best reading material for someone trying to fall asleep. But she couldn’t help it. She was addicted to mystery and suspense.
Despite the excitement in the novel world, her eyelids began to droop. With a yawn, she returned the book to the table and switched off the light before drifting to sleep.
* * *
Tina’s feet pounded the pavement as she turned the corner into the alley. The darkness that trailed her knew her well—knew all her fears. It had tormented her before, but this time, it was out for blood. For revenge.
The sound of her frantic breath and the pulse throbbing in her ears deafened her to the rest of the world. She ran with all her might…her life depended on it. She wore pajamas, her bare feet numb on the icy streets. Piercing pain shot up her legs, and her side cramped as if she’d been stabbed. But still, she pushed forward. She couldn’t afford to look behind her to see if the dark mass was getting closer. Her head felt as if it would split in two…her chest like it would explode.
She ducked behind a dumpster and slipped through a service door in the back of a warehouse, locking it behind her. Maybe it hadn’t seen her. Maybe it would pass her by this time.
With her hands on her knees, she bent down to catch her breath. Her matted hair spilled forward, blocking most of the room from view. But she didn’t miss the fog—no, the black shadow—that crept beneath the doorway. That oozed in through the sides of the threshold.
It had found her.
After all these years, it was back.
Tina sprinted across the room, but there was no way out. She slipped behind a shelving unit and pressed her back against the wall. She was out of sight, but her furious, shallow breaths gave her away. She closed her eyes and prepared herself for whatever was about to happen.
“Help us.” The hopeless cry seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Tina opened her eyes, but she saw nothing. “Please.”
Despite the mass of smoky shadow on her trail, Tina dared a whisper. “Who? Who are you?”
A guttural roar echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls to create a cacophony of terror. Her body trembled. Tears rained down her cheeks, and she bit back a scream. The smoke hissed as it poured toward her.
“Wake up. We need your help.” The voice grew louder, urgent. “Open your eyes and it will be gone. It’s not that strong yet.”
Tina spoke through clenched teeth, “My eyes are open.”
“Only in your dream.”
Was she asleep? The threat was too close, too real, to be a dream. But as the disembodied voice called to her, the warehouse room seemed to evaporate into a wispy film of dust.
She lay in her bed with the cotton sheets tangled across her body. The scent of her lavender candle danced in the air. Though her nightclothes were drenched in sweat, she was home. Safe. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she pushed herself into a sitting position…
And screamed.
The translucent woman standing before her wore a simple, white gown stained with splattered blood. Red slime oozed from the place her hand should have been attached to her arm. While her eyes appeared swollen and bruised, and bright red capillaries spidered beneath her jaundiced skin, her features seemed fluid, rolling and fading in and out, morphing the woman’s face into an unrecognizable blur.
Tina pushed back on her bed. “Wha…what…who are you? What are you doing here?”
The spirit reached out her good hand. “We need your help. He’s got us. He’s holding us here.”
“Who?”
“You know who. Please…” The spirit began to fade away.
“Wait! Who?”
“Help us…”
Tina blinked and rubbed her eyes. Had she really just seen that? Heard that? No. No way. She’d imagined it. She hadn’t been getting enough sleep, and now she was hallucinating. The shadow monster in her dream? Yeah, she’d seen that before. Same creature. Different location every time, like it wanted her to know it could find her anywhere. The recurring nightmare had haunted her most of her life, though she hadn’t had the dream in years. But the ghost woman in her bedroom? It was her imagination. That was the only logical explanation.
She couldn’t talk to spirits…but Allison could. She picked up her phone and started to dial her friend’s number, until she looked at the clock. Damn it. It’s four in the morning.
What the hell was she supposed to do for the next three hours? She wasn’t due at the office until eight, but she sure as hell wasn’t going back to sleep. She shoved the tangled mess of covers off, threw on her robe, and shuffled to the kitchen for her morning routine. Three freaking hours early.
With the coffee brewing and bread in the toaster, she took a quick shower to rinse off the night’s ordeal.
She turned on the television and sipped her coffee while she tried to figure out what exactly had happened. Unable to make sense of any of it, she flipped the channels and settled on watching an early morning news show. The weather looked bleak. The meteorologist forecasted snow for the next five days. Lovely.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she padded across the room to answer it. The last thing she expected at five o’clock in the morning was a phone call. She sat on the edge of the bed and put the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”
“Are you okay?”
Her throat tightened at the sound of Trent’s voice. She swallowed and answered, “I’m fine. Why do you ask?” That sounded cool, didn’t it? Calm. Nonchalant. She hoped her voice didn’t give away the excitement she felt. Why on Earth was he calling her this early?
Trent let out a heavy sigh. “Good. I just had this weird dream. You were in trouble, and…” He chuckled. “But it was nothing, wasn’t it? Never mind.”
He was dreaming about her? “What kind of trouble was I in?”
“It’s stupid. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“I was already up. It’s nice to hear that you’re dreaming about me, though.” She couldn’t fight her playful tone as she flirted.
He let out a nervous laugh. “It wasn’t that kind of dream.”
“But at least I’m on your mind.” Why was she doing this to herself? Was she looking for heartache? “I’m sorry. That’s not very professional of me. I sh
ould—”
“It’s okay. It’s nice to see this side of you again. You seemed uptight when you left before, and then you didn’t call.”
“I don’t have an uptight bone in my body. The house was creepy…and I was planning to call you today.”
“Okay, I get it. Forget I said anything.”
“Why was I in trouble in your dream?” What could have possibly warranted a phone call at five in the morning? After the dream she’d had herself, and the…whatever it was she thought she saw when she woke up…she could only imagine what kind of nightmare he might have had. Maybe the eeriness of the house had gotten to them both.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Even if it was a nightmare…Trent was dreaming about her. “Did you rescue me?”
“It was stupid. Don’t worry about it. Listen, I’m sorry I called so early. Just get in touch with me when you have the paperwork ready.”
“But—”
“I’ve got to get ready for work. See you soon.”
“Okay.”
Click.
What the hell just happened? Did he blow her off? No one ever blew her off when she flirted. True, he had every reason to, but still. She couldn’t remember the last time a man rejected her. Was she losing her appeal? She knew all the burgers and fried food would catch up with her eventually, but she was only thirty.
She walked into the bathroom and examined her face in the mirror. Faint traces of laugh lines were beginning to show around her eyes and mouth. And…was that a gray hair? Oh, no! She wrapped the strand around her finger and yanked it out, wincing at the sharp pain that followed. The brief stinging sensation was worth it, though. She was too young to go gray.
She’d just have to step up her game to avoid rejection. Maybe a girls’ night out, rather than in, would do her some good. Some male attention would boost her self-esteem.
Wait…What was she thinking?
She didn’t need anything from a man. She was a complete, successful, independent woman all on her own. She slept around because she enjoyed sex. Not because desperation to be loved and accepted drove her to do anything a man told her to. That was her mom’s game, and—while she loved the woman dearly—she’d never forget the parade of men coming in and out of her life as if their house had a revolving front door. The way her mom completely changed for each new potential husband who stuck around for more than a few days. Her hair, her clothes, the way she acted.
Tina loved and accepted herself, and herself was all she needed. She’d never used sex to gain acceptance, and she could bed any man she wanted.
Except for Trent.
He was one man she’d dated but hadn’t slept with. And why hadn’t she slept with him? She’d certainly had plenty of opportunity—and desire. But oddly enough, Trent was the one man whose opinion of her actually mattered. She found herself caring about him as a person—not just his body—and that scared her to death.
What if she fell for him, and he left her? She didn’t want to end up like her mom, drowning herself in alcohol and chocolate every time a man walked out the door. It was better to never get serious in the first place. Then she’d never have to worry about being rejected.
That’s why she’d shut Trent out the first time. It was also why she couldn’t get him off her mind. Damn it, she cared about that man. And he must’ve cared about her too—at least a little bit—since he called her at five in the morning after having a bad dream. Add to that the fact that he was hard to get now—whether he was playing that way or not. Who didn’t love a challenge?
But was the prize really what she wanted?
CHAPTER FIVE
Trent grumbled as he marched through the garage to his Audi. Logan had insisted he call his doctor before he left for work. Of course, the doc told him not to drive until they ran some tests. Don’t drive? How the fuck else was he supposed to get to work?
He climbed into the car, slammed the door, and crammed the key into the ignition. And how the hell did the doctor expect him to get to the office for the fucking tests? Clutching the steering wheel, he took a deep breath. He wasn’t mad at the doctor. He was mad at himself.
Where had that sleep attack come from? He’d had maybe ten or fifteen his entire life, and they were when he was much younger. Years ago. So why now? The only symptoms he’d dealt with in the past five years were fatigue, occasional hallucinations, and sleep paralysis. And it had been two years since he’d experienced any of those.
For his narcolepsy to resurface with the worst symptom possible was beyond strange. And then the dream he’d had about Tina…that shadow monster was one of the scariest things he’d ever seen. He’d never had a dream so vivid. So real.
Then again, it was probably because of everything that had happened. The rush of emotions seeing Tina stirred in his soul. The creepy house. His fear of it being haunted. Yeah, there were plenty of reasons for him to have a dream like that. And nightmares were another symptom of his disease. It was most likely nothing. It had to be.
He drove straight to the doctor’s office and underwent a series of tests: EKGs, MRIs, stress tests. He gave nearly half a pint of blood for analysis. Two hours later, lightheaded and exhausted, he checked out of the office and walked to his car. The preliminary results showed nothing had changed, but the doctor increased Trent’s medication dosage, just to be safe. His entire morning was wasted. What a hassle.
As he drove into downtown toward the office, his mind drifted back to Tina. He’d made an ass of himself by calling her at five in the morning. She must’ve thought he was insane. Or obsessed. Hell, maybe he was both. He couldn’t hide his feelings for her if he wanted to. And if she hadn’t picked up on his emotions at the house, surely she’d noticed the swell in his pants when she’d gotten out of the car. It had taken all his strength not to adjust himself and make it even more obvious.
And the fragrance of her perfume when she’d gotten close was sweet and floral—like a colorful meadow on a crisp, spring day. It was enough to make his knees weak. But that was as close as he’d get to being with her.
The mystery of the moving coat rack and Tina’s determination to get into that attic room intrigued him enough to return to the house. It called to him. He chuckled at himself. If the house called to him, that would mean he had psychic abilities, and he knew he didn’t.
Allison had said that everyone had them and it’s just a matter of developing them. Trent didn’t want them developed. Not with all the hassle Logan had gone through. The guy might have gone nuts if it weren’t for Allison. She’d taught Logan how to control his empathic abilities and get a handle on his own emotions.
If only Trent could rein his in. He’d love to squelch his desire to feel Tina’s naked body pressed against his. To extinguish the flame in his soul that flared every time she was near. She’d intruded on his thoughts far too much, and, if he wasn’t careful, the fire might consume him.
He shook his head to remove her from his mind and turned up the radio. With George Strait blasting through the speakers, he made a quick U-turn and headed toward his inherited hell house.
* * *
Tina looked at her cell phone and debated calling Trent. She’d done her research and found the house was worth way more than she’d first thought. He’d be better off selling it to a normal buyer than going for a flipper. With a new front porch, a fresh coat of paint, and a lot of cleaning, Trent stood to make at least 1.2 million dollars on the place.
She leaned back in her desk chair and gazed out the third-floor window to the parking lot below, but her eyes didn’t focus on the cars. All she could see was the image of the way Trent’s jeans hugged his muscular thighs and the nice view of his backside she’d gotten when he slipped on the ice in front of the house. The adorable way he’d cussed at the slick spot on the ground had her lips curving into a grin. The man was scrumptious, that was for sure.
She glanced at the time on her phone. Eleven-thirty. If he were a normal client, she’d invite him to lunch to di
scuss her findings, but that felt too much like a date when it came to Trent. And after the way he’d blown her off this morning, she definitely didn’t want him to think she was still interested.
She could always email the information to him. Avoid talking to the man all together. But she cringed at the formality of emails. Business was best done in person. Face to face. She didn’t hide behind a screen with her other clients. Why should Trent be any different? He’d hired her to do a job. Nothing more. She needed to put her feelings for him aside, do what she was hired to do, and be done with him.
She dialed his number before she could change her mind, but she couldn’t ignore the tightening in her chest as the phone rang one, two, three times.
“Hello?” Trent’s sharp, irritated tone made her breath catch.
“Is this a bad time?”
He sighed heavily. “No. What did you find out?”
So much for making small talk. “I have quite a bit of information to share with you. I think you’ll be happy to hear it. Can you meet me for lunch in an hour so we can discuss it?” She held her breath as she awaited his answer. He was taking way too long to respond. With all the road noise in the background, he was obviously driving. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. “Trent?”
He let out a slow exhale. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m already on my way to the house anyway. If it’s too much to tell me over the phone, can you meet me there?”
A sour feeling formed in her stomach. Blown off by the same man twice in one day. She wasn’t used to the sting of rejection, and she certainly didn’t like the way it felt. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”
“Great.”
Click.
She stared at her phone as the screen went blank. What the hell was wrong with him? Even if he wasn’t interested in dating her, he could still show a little niceness and say good-bye before he ended the call. Then again, she hadn’t exactly shown professionalism—or niceness—when she’d avoided calling him yesterday. She was acting like a nervous teenager, and that needed to stop right now.
To Stop a Shadow (Spirit Chasers Book 2) Page 4