Witching Hour (12 page)

He landed on his back near the car, his head bouncing against the gravel. Dots danced at the edges of his vision as the world dimmed slightly. Something shrieked in the distance, but it took all his effort just to breathe.

“Shit! Cal. Are you okay?”

Brandon knelt beside him, his gaze flicking between Cal and a spot over his shoulder. The man’s face had paled, but his hands were steady as they gripped Cal’s shoulders. The firm clasp ignited more pain along his collarbone as he pushed onto one elbow, gazing at the house.

Dirt caked his tongue as he leaned forward, accepting the hand Brandon offered him. “Where is she?”

“Jordan went inside.”

“No, the ghost? Where the hell did she go?”

Brandon clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Whatever you threw at it made it hiss, and it just…disappeared.”

“Shit. That means it’s probably inside.” He stumbled onto his feet, falling against the car when his legs buckled. “Damn. I’ve forgotten how much that hurts.” He braced his weight, blinking away the flip-flopping images. “We need to get in there before it convinces Jordan to jump out one of the windows or something equally as deadly.”

“You can barely stand up. Why don’t I go and—”

“No. I’m going. Besides, while I have no doubt you’re an excellent marksman, not to mention one hell of a fighter, I doubt your usual tactics will work with something that doesn’t have a body to toss around. We’ll go together. Just don’t let that thing touch you.”

“And if it does?”

Cal handed him a container of salt and a flask of holy water. “Then toss these at it.”

Brandon scrunched up his face as he stared at the offerings. “Salt and water. Great.”

Cal stuffed some supplies in his pockets then pushed off the car and headed for the door, tripping twice when his equilibrium tilted. He caught himself on one knee then pushed forward again, finally cresting the stairs. He reached for the door, cursing when it wouldn’t budge.

Brandon shouldered up beside him, tossing his weight against it. “The report said the officers didn’t lock this door when they left last night. They couldn’t find the key, and with Jordan hurt…they didn’t want to waste any time getting her back to the station.”

“Jordan gave me the damn key, but it’s not locked. And trust me. There’s more than one way to bar a door. Step back.”

Brandon moved with him, inhaling sharply when Cal splashed water on the door. The wood groaned, tiny sparks of ash popping off the surface. He waited a couple of seconds before trying it again, slamming the slab open when it finally gave way. He stumbled inside and made for the stairs, noting the circle of salt at the bottom of the staircase as he took the steps two at a time, rounding the top and heading for the attic. He didn’t use the water this time, kicking the door in and climbing the next set.

Brandon called after him, but he just waved his hand, urging the man to follow as he stopped at the top, touching the tarnished knob. Heat greeted his fingers, and he wrapped the cuff of his hoodie over his hand, using it to prevent getting burned. Brandon pulled in behind him, his breathing raspy in the narrow space. Cal gave him a curt nod then muscled the door open, stepping into the attic as he’d done once before. A similar scene appeared before him—Jordan standing near the window, the evil spirit hovering in the center of the room. Brandon swore under his breath and tried to dart past Cal, but he stopped the man with his arm.

He gave Brandon a quick shake of his head. “Don’t move.”

“But…”

He nodded, standing beside Cal as the spirit expanded outward, glaring at them as it cackled.

A cruel smile curved its lips as its form faded in and out. “Mine.”

The scratchy voice bounced off the walls, the sound reminiscent of nails against a chalkboard.

Cal stood his ground, drawing a line of salt on the floor in front of him. “Not this time.”

The ghost howled and shot forward, stopping at the invisible barrier. Cal crowded the line, trying not to focus on the rattling noise behind the ghost. Jordan was fingering the lock on the window, and he knew it wouldn’t be locked for long.

The spirit rose higher then flew back, disappearing as it reached Jordan. Her body convulsed as she swayed against the glass, the window shaking beneath her. Cal dove at her, wrapping his arm around her waist as the window crashed open, pivoting them both forward. Brandon grabbed Cal’s hoodie, dragging him and Jordan back in, when the ghost materialized behind them, kicking up debris in the room. A piece of wood hit Brandon square in the back, knocking him against the wall. Cal cradled Jordan’s body against his chest as he removed one of the unit’s Blake had made and pointed it at the witch, pressing the button. Nothing seemed to happen until the apparition shrieked, soaring across the room and through a wall.

Cal yanked on Brandon’s jacket. “Run. Now.”

The man staggered to his feet, using the wall to brace some of his weight he stumbled toward the doorway, as Cal moved in behind him. Cal half dragged, half carried Jordan down the narrow flight of stairs and along the hallway, taking them both to the floor when the witch appeared at the other end, flying at them, hair streaming out behind it, hands extended into claws. He rolled Jordan beneath him, flinging holy water at the ghost as it hovered overhead, face twisted into a snarl. The water sizzled as it hit the cloud-like surface, sending up curls of steam. Once again the witch bellowed and disappeared, smudges of ash marring the wall where she vanished.

Brandon yelled his name and Cal pushed to his feet, maneuvering down the stairs and out the door. The moon had risen higher, illuminating the land in a hallowed glow. He rushed across the porch and all but fell down the three stairs to the yard, landing on one knee as his right hand grabbed hold of a bush for balance. The sharp stones abraded his skin, sending a flare of pain up his leg. His hand slipped off the branch, landing on the dirt, when his fingers brushed over the smooth outline of a book. He patted around until he could grab the spine, pulling it free. The large volume gleamed in the moonlight, a single letter W glaring back at him.

Cal tucked it under his arm didn’t turn to look behind him as he limped toward the car, nodding at Brandon as the man jumped in the driver’s side, popping the vehicle into gear. A swirl of gravel eddied to life beside him as Cal dove in the back, sheltering Jordan beneath him. Nails scratched at the windows as the car tore down the driveway, more gravel spitting out from beneath the tires. Cal held on, bracing his arm against the seat when Brandon banked the car around the corner, screeching the tires as they skidded across the pavement. Another bellow sounded around them before the interior went silent, nothing but the roll of the wheels penetrating the cab.

Brandon glanced at him in the rearview, dirt smudged across his face as a line of blood tracked down one cheek. “Shit. Is ghost hunting always like that? ‘Cause damn, I should have stayed in the bloody army if that’s the case.”

Cal gave him a smile, finally relaxing slightly. “If you asked Avery, he’d probably say yes. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen to me all that often.”

“Well once was enough.” He glanced at Jordan resting in Cal’s arms. “She okay?”

“She will be. I think the witch just drained her energy during the possession. A bit of rest and she should be good as new.”

Brandon’s mouth pulled tight as he glanced away for a bit before meeting Cal’s stare again. “What about the house? Is it over?”

Cal looked over his shoulder, watching the old building disappear from sight. “Unfortunately, I think it’s merely the beginning.”

Chapter Eight

Cal sat in a chair, watching Jordan toss and turn on the bed. They’d been back for hours, but she hadn’t fully woken, spending most of the time mumbling incoherently in her sleep. Brandon had been reluctant to leave without a trip to the hospital but had finally agreed when Cal had promised to call the man in the morning, subtly reminding him that the previous doctor hadn’t diagnosed the possession. Cal had also promised not to go back to the house without notifying him, though they both knew it was inevitable. They might have stopped the ghost from claiming Jordan tonight, but that didn’t mean anyone was truly safe.

Jordan’s parting words echoed in his head, the truth of them leaving a bad taste in his mouth. While he hoped the accusation had been the ghost talking and not Jordan, he couldn’t fully shake the idea that somewhere deep inside she blamed him for Dave’s death. That he was only fooling himself if he thought she could love the man responsible for taking her only family away from her.

Cal ran a shaky hand through his hair, sparing a glance at the book. He’d run his fingers along the decorative cover before deciding it was best to leave it alone until morning. While he didn’t know exactly what the ghost’s trigger was, it seemed safer to wait until the veil of darkness had passed, maybe taking some of the witch’s power with it.

He sighed. If he was being honest with himself, that was only part of the reason. He’d been afraid to take his eyes off Jordan, worried that he’d miss some small clue as to whether the witch still had control, despite the cleansing ritual he’d already preformed. Twice. God, if he hadn’t woken up…

He cursed and gained his feet, moving over to the bed and placing his hip on the edge as he stared at her. A small scowl curved her lips as she twitched, the rapid movement of her eyes behind her lids indicating she was dreaming. He ran a finger along her jaw, reveling in the feel of her soft skin, praying all his years of research had actually paid off, and he’d purged any remnants of the spirit. Hell, if he couldn’t use his knowledge to save the only woman he knew he’d ever love, what good was it?

Love
. Shit. He still couldn’t believe it. But there was no denying the rush he felt just looking at her. How her smile made his insides flip-flop or how the thought of losing her had cut him soul deep. He wasn’t sure if he believed in fate or soul mates, but if either existed, Jordan was definitely it for him. Ten years and his desire still burned like a wildfire through his veins. And tasting her once hadn’t even begun to satisfy his needs. If anything, it’d only fueled them until he thought his entire body might spontaneously ignite.

“At least that’d end your worries, jackass.”

He chuckled to himself. Loving Jordan was the least of his fears, despite the fact it was probably the most dangerous. This ghost however…

He tried his brothers’ cells again. “Shit!” He hit the cancel button and placed the phone on the side table. Neither Avery nor Blake were picking up…and while he could brush off Blake’s absence to the mischievous spirits that inhabited his and Payton’s gallery and seemed to enjoy taunting the kid by hiding his stuff around the house, Avery always picked up. And he knew the man was hanging with Dylan, all the more reason to answer.

He grabbed his phone again and tried Dylan’s cell this time. Though his twin wouldn’t be much help in the ghost department, maybe he knew how to reach Avery, or get a message to him. If ever there was a time he could use his little brother’s help, now was it. Especially if it meant Temperance would accompany him. Alone, either of them were an asset, but together…they were downright unstoppable.

The call went directly to voicemail.

“Bloody hell!” Now he was starting to worry something else was wrong…something closer to home.

He palmed his head in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the impending ache. He couldn’t worry about Dylan, Avery or Blake right now. They’d proven they could more than take care of themselves, and he needed to have faith. Besides, he’d gotten himself into enough of a mess here in Salem. Guilt lingered at the edges of his consciousness, reminding him he should have taken care of the damn witch long ago. But there was no sense dwelling on the fact now. He hadn’t, plain and simple. All he could do was finish the job. Properly.

He glanced at the leather book waiting on a small table by the window then at the clock sitting beside his phone, watching the time click over to four AM. Witching hour be damned. The sooner he figured this out, the sooner Jordan was finally safe. He pressed off the mattress and took two heavy steps away when Jordan screamed and bolted upright in the bed, clawing at some invisible force. He lunged back, avoiding her thrashing arms as he grabbed her shoulders, giving her a healthy shake

“Damn it, Jordan. Wake up!”

She blinked, gasping in a quick breath before coughing it out, the raspy sound filling the air. He stayed beside her, waiting for the session to pass before gathering her in his arms and pulling her close. Her head landed on his shoulder as her body collapsed against him, her hands fisted around his shirt. He stroked her hair, whispering soothing sounds until the shaking stopped, a hushed sob making his heart clench tight.

He eased away, tucking her hair behind her ear as he tilted his head so he could look at her. She’d squeezed her eyes shut as she blinked at the tears fading down her cheek. He slipped a finger under her chin, waiting until she finally opened her eyes and looked at him. He gave her a warm smile, hoping she couldn’t see how her pain was killing him.

“That’s my girl. Better?”

She nodded, looking more lost now than when he’d first arrived at the station. He sighed and tugged her close again, holding her tight, listening to the beat of her heart echo in his chest. He wasn’t sure how long they sat there before a slow exhalation tickled his neck, and she palmed his chest, gradually moving back.

She shook her head, curling a strand of hair around one finger. “I don’t suppose all these images in my head are just the byproduct of a bad dream, are they?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I have a feeling those are snapshots of what happened tonight.” He brushed her hair back again “Do you remember any of it?”

Her chin quivered before she took a deep breath and seemed to pull herself together. “I remember you making love to me in the other room.” She flashed him a wicked grin. “Then again in the shower before we went to bed.”