by Ann Charles
I liked Reid a lot. So did she, but her fear of getting her heart broken again by him wasn’t loosening its grip on her sensibilities. My fingers were crossed that time and persistence on Reid’s part would eventually pay off for him.
Flossing done, I squeezed some toothpaste on my toothbrush. It seemed so mundane to tend to my teeth after what I’d faced tonight. I could have died at the hand of a Hungarian devil, yet here I stood brushing like any old Jane Doe. My dentist would be proud of me.
Did that freaky thug with the sharp pike-like teeth who’d been hiding behind the other gray door ever worry about getting cavities? Probably not, judging by the stains I’d noticed on its choppers when it stepped out of the shadows. The infection from his bite alone would probably kill me within a day. Rabies would be a welcome parting gift compared to the other deadly bacteria that I imagined were swarming in its mouth.
Shuddering, I decided to brush my teeth extra well tonight and gargle twice with antiseptic mouthwash.
Meanwhile, my thoughts returned to Natalie and Cooper. The two had left together in her pickup, since his SUV was still parked at the police station. There’d been several heated looks between them as they talked about the slippery, icy roads and whether Harvey was going to be at Doc’s yet or not. I had a feeling that if I called Freesia right now to see if Natalie’s pickup was sitting out front of the Galena House, the answer would be “No.”
A niggling of worry tickled my chest about Hawke finding out that Natalie and Cooper were friends with benefits now—or more than just “friends,” judging by the hungry way Cooper had watched Natalie in the kitchen when her focus was elsewhere. The detective probably fixed on a woman he wanted in his bed the same as he did on an unsolved murder case, hell-bent to spend day and night analyzing details about her from head to toe until he figured out every one of her secrets. The question was, would he grow tired of Natalie after the mystery was solved?
My reflection took on a gunslinger glare at that question. With toothpaste on my lips, my multitude of bruises, and the rioting hair spirals sticking up here and there, I could have given the real Outlaw Curly Bill a run for his money. I spit out the toothpaste and rinsed, then uncapped the mouthwash. Cooper had better not break my best friend’s heart. I’d hate to have to drag his sorry ass down into that Hellhole and leave him there.
After a few minutes of chemically burning every single living microbe off of my tongue, I shut off the lights, checked on the kids once more, and then headed for bed.
My bedroom was full of shadows. Light from the half moon shined through my gauzy curtains, leaving fuzzy streaks of silver on the wood floor and end of the bed. I shut and locked the door behind me, wanting to block out the world and its monsters—both human and beast—for a while.
Slipping off my robe, I crawled under the covers next to Doc, who was lying on his back. His breathing was slow and steady, but I could tell he wasn’t asleep when I cozied up to him because his muscles were still tense. His skin was nice and warm, though. I snuggled even closer and rubbed my cold nose on his shoulder. His skin smelled like the sweet orange and vanilla–scented shower soap that Aunt Zoe had given him for Christmas. I wanted to eat him up, but I refrained, wanting to clear the air on what was bothering him.
He glanced my way, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of moonlight. “You’re not going to touch me with those icy feet, are you?” he asked, his voice low even though we were alone with a locked oak door between us and any eavesdropping little ears.
I rested my chin on his shoulder. “For your information, big baby, I’m wearing the cashmere socks you gave me for Christmas.” I ran my foot over his shin, showing him how warm it was.
He chuckled, catching my leg at the knee and holding onto it.
“Where were you this afternoon when I left you the voice mail about the Hellhole door being open?” I asked.
“I ran over to Sturgis to get some parts for the Picklemobile.”
That sounded so nice and normal. For several seconds, we lay there in the quiet while he stroked my thigh, just breathing and touching.
I was the first to break the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He sighed. “Not really, but I suppose we should.”
I caressed his chest, circling my nails over his skin. “What did I do wrong?”
He turned to me, his brow pinched. “What makes you think you did anything wrong?”
“Because I wasn’t supposed to go down in that Hellhole, but that was exactly where I landed without a way to escape.”
“I don’t think that was your doing.”
I shifted, leaning on my elbow so I could see his face better. “You think the lidérc had something to do with that?”
“Yes, somehow, and that’s worrisome enough. What bothers me more, though, is how it controlled your surroundings once it had you where it wanted you—sealing the trapdoor closed, blowing out the candle, providing the carbide lamp, and opening the Hellhole’s grate.” He dragged his fingers down over my knee and along the outside of my calf. “It’s like a mix of materialization, illusion, apportation, clairaudience, reciprocal apparition, remote view—”
“Stop,” I said, putting my finger over his lips. “You’re coming at this like the lidérc is human. We’re dealing with a supernatural being here. Paranormal 101 rules don’t apply.”
He pulled my finger down. “What about you?”
I frowned. “What about me?”
“You were a hot mess of paranormal powers down there, too.” He held up my hand and started ticking off my fingers. “Remote viewing, materialization, psychokinesis, ESP, and pyrokinesis when you threw that ball of fire right before I slammed the door.” He laid my hand back down on his chest. “And that’s only naming a few. There were some things for which I’m not even sure Cornelius or I have names.”
“Yeah, well, I was just fumbling around in there, trying to get out of the place alive.”
“Which you did, proving your ability to think and not panic in dire situations.”
“I only made it out because you showed up and opened that door.” And then he closed it, sealing me away from the devil and its motley crew. I drew a heart over his matching organ, deciding it was time to tell him one part of the story I’d withheld earlier. “I’m pretty sure the lidérc picked up on you being there.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Right before I ran toward the stairwell door, Jane—well, the lidérc version of her—sniffed the air and said something about me bringing my mate along to play.” I trailed my fingers over his shoulder and down his left arm, matching my hand to his, palm to palm. “Remember how Mr. Black said that an Oracle will give off a certain scent when near its mate?”
“Yeah, but how could it pick up on that when I wasn’t physically standing there?”
“I don’t know, but do you also remember how that clockmaker with the long white hair in that other realm or plane—or wherever—was able to snatch your candle away from you as if you were standing there with Cornelius and me?” She, too, had sensed Doc’s presence, even though he was not physically present. Hell, Cornelius and I hadn’t been physically present either officially, but yet we weren’t invisible.
I shook my head. Hardly any of this supernatural shit made any sense to me, but this was the hand I’d been dealt, so I would keep bluffing and upping my bet until I won the pot or lost it all.
“Yeah,” he said, his hand on my leg paused. “That was the first time I’d ever experienced something like that.”
I chewed on my lower lip. “If it’s a matter of a scent or something like that giving you away when we’re together, it’s getting more dangerous for you to be in there with me.”
He scoffed, lacing his fingers with mine. “There’s no way I’m letting you go in alone, so you can stop that train of thought in its tracks.”
“Fine, but we have to try harder to keep you hidden.”
“And how do we do that?”
> “I don’t know. Maybe there is some kind of shielding voodoo charm or protective amulet that will disguise your astral body when we’re inside that other realm.”
“Astral body?” He chuckled. “Listen to you, Killer, throwing out paranormal terms like you’ve been schooled in the supernatural a time or two.”
“More like forced learning via hands-on experience.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “I like it when you practice hands-on education.”
“If you like what I can do with my hands, you should see what I can do with my mouth.” I rubbed my leg suggestively over his hip, playing along until he put a stop to it.
“I’m familiar with the power of those tempting lips and your sweet tongue, vixen.” He shifted onto his side, facing me, propping his head up on his hand, too. Unlacing his fingers from mine, he pulled my leg on top of his and ran his hand over my hip. “I have a feeling that ward at the base of the Hellhole is meant to block the other two creatures you ran into down there from coming through.”
“That would make sense.” I wrapped my leg around his and pulled him even closer, skin pressed against skin except for where my satin chemise and his boxer briefs played interference. “It would also explain why Jane’s ghost had warned us to steer clear of the Hellhole.”
“I wonder where that right fork in the tunnel went to,” he whispered, sliding his fingers under the satin hem of my top.
“You’ll just have to keep wondering about that, because I’m not going back down there to meet that red-armed growler face to face if I can help it.”
“Not without your mace, at least,” he added, his fingers tickling their way north of my navel, roaming over hill and down dale.
I leaned into his warm palm as he cupped and strummed. “I have to find that lidérc.”
“I know,” he said absently, preoccupied with what was hiding from him under my chemise.
“I probably pissed it off with that ball of fire.”
“Uh-huh.” His thumb circled, making my body perk up and hum. His body liked it, too, from what I could feel.
“I’ll ask Aunt Zoe about that mirror in her shop in the morning.”
His gaze moved to my mouth. “Sure.”
“Doc?” I made a show of wetting my lips.
He groaned, his hand squeezing as his hips pressed against mine. “Yeah?”
“Are you going to kiss me or what?”
“Or what,” he growled and rolled my way, partially pinning me under his weight. He pulled up my chemise while tugging down my underwear. “Damn it, Boots. What have I told you about wearing too many clothes to bed?”
I chuckled, lifting my hips so he could remove the lower half of my unmentionables. “But it’s fun to watch you struggle to take them off.”
He grunted and yanked them down, his mouth returning to mine. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said between blistering kisses.
I did as told, only to freeze at the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand.
Doc buried his face in my neck, nipping his way along my collarbone. “Ignore that,” he whispered.
I wanted to, but … “It’s late.”
“Even more reason not to answer it.” His teeth grazed my earlobe.
I arched in spite of the continued buzzing, brushing against him. “But what if it’s Nat and she’s in trouble?”
He stilled, his breathing heavy, his muscles straining. “Fine,” he said and reached for the phone, frowning at what he read and then held it out to me. “It’s not Natalie.”
I took the phone. It was Cooper. “Why is he calling me so late?”
Doc rolled away, lying on his back. “I doubt it’s to congratulate us on almost having sex.” He growled at the ceiling. “Coop has the worst timing, I swear. You better answer it, or he’ll come knocking on the door next.”
I sat up and hit the answer button. “It’s late, Cooper.”
“No shit, Parker.” He sounded pissed. “Golly gee, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Hey, I was the one who should be irritated, not him. “Well, you did, damn it.”
“Great, because what I’m about to tell you screwed up a good thing I had going.”
I heard Natalie’s voice in the background saying, “It’s not her fault, Coop.”
“Yes, it is. She’s the one who batted the little shit out the window.”
“Oh, crap.” I looked down at Doc. “What did the imp do now?”
That caught Doc’s attention. He frowned back at me.
Cooper huffed. “You’ll see soon enough. Get dressed. You’re going with me to Lead.”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now, Parker. Detective Hawke is insisting I bring you with me.”
“What?” Had he said “Detective Hawke”? “Why does he want me there?”
“Because you’re the knucklehead who told him you can see ghosts.”
Chapter Fifteen
“It’s about time you showed up to the party, Coop,” Detective Stone Hawke said as Cooper, Doc, and I joined the blowhard in front of the Piggly Wiggly grocery store.
I shivered in the frigid breeze, glancing around the parking lot. Several of Lead’s police rigs were parked willy-nilly, their red and blue lights reflecting off the double glass doors and lighting up the front of the concrete block building. Short loud bursts of walkie-talkie beeps and code-word chatter spewed from open vehicle windows.
My gaze returned to our little group, where I ran into Hawke’s beady-eyed glare. What in the hell had he been meeting with Tiffany about next to the Mickelson Trail?
Before I had a chance to ask, he opened his big bazoo and said, “Good.” An oily smirk smeared across his scruffy mug. “You brought the witch along. What happened to your face? Did your flying broomstick try to beat some sense into you for once?”
Criminy! It hadn’t even been a minute since I’d climbed out of Cooper’s warm rig and Hawke was already throwing down the gauntlet, starting up right where we’d left off back in December. The condescending detective needed his nose dented in and his ego blasted to the moon. Unlucky for him, I was just the woman for the job.
Doc grabbed my wrist, tugging me closer. I had a feeling he’d noticed my balled fists.
Hawke pointed his thumb toward the store behind him. “It looks like one of Parker’s flying monkeys got loose and ransacked the bank.”
“You’re grabbing the wrong end of the branding iron, Hawke,” I warned the square-chinned Neanderthal, letting Doc hold me in my corner of the ring for now. As much as I wanted to start swinging, the bone-chilling wind was freezing my loose bits and pointy parts, not to mention that I was old-dog tired.
“That’s ‘Detective’ Hawke to you,” he said, borrowing a line from Cooper’s song and dance. “Or did you forget that I’m the law around these parts?”
“Nope. My memory is top drawer and bowl full.” I squinted up at him. “But are you feeling okay tonight, Detective Hawke?”
His unibrow wrinkled, looking like a caterpillar train wreck. “Why? Did you put another stupid hex on me?”
I probably deserved some of his ire after the nut-shriveling spell I’d previously leveled on his poor penis in the police station parking lot. But that didn’t mean I was going to put up with Hawke’s bullshit on a bitterly cold night when I’d been so rudely dragged from my warm bed.
“No hex this time,” I said with a big, clown smile.
Doc winced at the sight of my circus look. “Rein it in, Tiger,” he warned under his breath.
“What then?” Hawke squared his wide shoulders. “Let me guess, you got together with other crazy-haired hags and brewed up a nasty curse for me in your cauldron?”
Cooper cursed under his breath. “You shouldn’t have mentioned her hair.”
Cooper was right. I kept the clown smile in place while my chest grew downright hot. “No curse either. I heard a loud ‘pop’ as we walked over here, and I thought you might have finally
pulled your head out of your ass.”
A loud sigh came from Cooper. “Here we go.”
“But judging by the shit I’m still hearing coming from your mouth,” I continued, on course in spite of the warning look coming from Cooper, “I can tell that big fucking melon of yours is still firmly lodged inside of your COLOSSAL COLON!” I ended extra loud, catching the attention of the other cops and probably half of Lead.
“Jesus, Parker,” Cooper muttered, but the usual snarl factor was missing from his tone.
Doc turned away for a moment to cough in his fist, which sounded a lot like a choked laugh to me. When he looked back, his eyes were a little watery yet.
“Oh yeah?!” Hawke yelled, his comeback finally showing up to the party. His face crumpled in the middle, like it was caving in on itself. “Well, you’re the one with the big, dumb, curly head!”
Really? That was the best he could do?
“Lord love a law dog,” I said back at my normal voice level while pulling off my figurative gloves. This cretin needed to learn the art of alliteration when doling out digs. “Did you invite me up here to trade insults or talk to a ghost? Because if it’s the former, I should have brought along a thesaurus for you, Detective Snollyguster.” I enunciated the trigger word Prudence had planted in Hawke’s head that fateful day in her house.
Hawke let out a series of harsh, loud barks that any German shepherd would envy. The sound of them echoed off the front of the store, making Cooper flinch, along with several members of Lead’s police posse.
Doc walked several steps away this time, keeping his back to us while he “coughed” some more.
“Parker!” Cooper stepped between us. “Knock this shit off, right now,” he said between gritted teeth.
“What?” I placed my hand over my sternum, making a show of blinking my lashes innocently. After all, it wasn’t me who’d turned Hawke into a real barking law dog. “I was just checking on something, Detective Cooper.”