by Paige Tyler
“What did you do?”
“I dragged my ass back to where I’d left Tom. Backup arrived by then, along with an ambulance, but it was too late. Tom was gone.”
“I’m sorry.” Presley knew from her own experience with Darla how much losing his partner must have hurt. “What did you tell them happened to him?”
Logan gave her a wry smile. “I told them the worst possible thing. I told them the truth. That my partner and the crooked pawnbroker we’d been chasing had been killed by a bat-like creature with long, sharp claws that was impervious to bullets.”
“I take it that explanation didn’t sit well with your superiors?”
He snorted. “Understatement. Regardless of the fact that the crime scene forensics fit exactly with what I had told them, they weren’t ready to deal with something like that. I was off the scene and in the psych ward at Bellevue before they’d even taken Tom’s body away. I should have been the one to tell his wife what had happened to him, but instead I was stuck in a padded room. I didn’t even make it to the funeral because they kept me there for two effing weeks. The only way I got out was to agree to a medical discharge for acute post-traumatic stress. According to the official story, Tom and the pawnbroker had been killed by a gang of jewel thieves. Apparently, the trauma of seeing my partner butchered scrambled my egg, leaving me unable to remember any coherent details. It was all very tidy, except that no one believed it. Some of the guys on the force thought I’d screwed up and gotten Tom killed and that the brass was covering it up.”
She’d always thought cops had one another’s back. “Some of the guys? What about the others? What did they think happened?”
“The day after I got out of the hospital, I was sitting around my apartment trying to figure out if maybe the shrinks had been right and that I was crazy when I got a visit from a couple of old veteran cops I’d worked with. At first, I thought they were there to check up on me or call me out for getting my partner killed, but instead, they told me they’d seen a lot of strange stuff on the job, too. Stuff they couldn’t explain. They described creatures that shouldn’t exist, creatures I now know are very real. Ghosts, vampires, shapeshifters, zombies, witches, goblins. They’d seen it all. The brass had hushed up every one of them, threatening them with the loss of their jobs and their pensions if they said anything. But they wanted me to know some of my fellow cops believed me.”
“Did what they told you help?”
He nodded. “Enough to get me through the next few days at least.”
“What got you through after that?”
“Revenge. I remembered what Tom had told me about not letting that creature get away and I went after it.”
“How did you find it?”
“I researched it first. Some of the friends I still had left on the force got me access to old police reports so I could see if there were any similarities between other murders down near the docks and what happened to Tom. Then I talked to the night workers, homeless people, and security guards in the area. After a few weeks, I finally pieced together enough information to track down where the creature liked to roam. At the same time, I surfed the web, hoping to find out what the thing was and how to go about killing it. That’s when I discovered there were other people out there like me, looking for things that shouldn’t exist.” He lifted the bottle to his mouth and tipped it back, draining the last of his beer. “That’s how I met Mav. He was a hunter from down south who heard about a bat-like creature that tended to live and hunt near the water. He sent me some info on half a dozen attacks that occurred in Savannah a few years earlier. We compared notes and concluded it was the same creature. After doing some more research, we realized it had been moving up and down the east coast for more than a hundred years, killing homeless people and migrant dock workers.”
Presley blinked. “Wow.”
“Tell me about,” Logan muttered. “From what we could figure out, the only person who had ever put a hurting on this thing was a sailor back in the nineteen-twenties. The old whaler put a damn harpoon through it. Mav thought maybe wood could do some damage where bullets couldn’t. It was a long shot, but I figured it might work. I talked a cop friend of mine into playing the part of the bait. He dressed up as a homeless guy and set up house down by the docks. It took a few nights for the creature to show and when it finally did, I put a homemade oak harpoon right through its chest. The asshole wasn’t so tough after that.”
“Did you ever find out what it was?”
“I don’t know if there was ever a name for it, but I talked to a few other ghost hunters over the years and they thought it might have been descended from a harpy, maybe even one that had mated with a man.”
Presley was incredulous. “Harpies are real?”
“Probably not as mythology describes them, but they’re probably based on some real creature. I was unlucky enough to run into a modern-day version of it.”
“Did you ever show it to the authorities as proof that you weren’t crazy?”
He shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Even if they did believe what they were seeing, they couldn’t let something like that get out to the world. They would have put me so deep in the loony bin I’d never have gotten out.”
Presley had to agree Logan was probably right. There would be widespread panic if the public thought there were actual monsters lurking in the shadows. “Is that when you decided to go into the ghost hunting business full time?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I met up with Mav a little while after killing the creature to thank him for the info he’d given me. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I was hunting monsters full time. The money’s lousy and I barely make it on the retirement pay the city gives me, but the people I help usually find some way to help me out in return.” He gestured to the room. “One of them gave me this place. Another came in to do the wiring and plumbing. I’m not flush by any means, but I get by.”
“Have you and Mav worked together the whole time?”
“Pretty much. He helped get me set up and taught me the tools of the trade, but then he took off for a while to do some work on his own. He’s been hanging around more lately, but that’s because there’s been a lot more work lately.”
“How about Robert and Brielle? When did they join Paranormal Investigations Unlimited?”
Logan’s mouth edged up. “Before Robert came on the scene, there wasn’t any Paranormal Investigations Unlimited. Mav and I got work by word of mouth. But then we helped Robert out and in return, he helped us get into the twenty-first century, as he likes to put it. He’s the one who talked us into setting up the Paranormal Investigations Unlimited deal. He even handled the twenty-four-hour emergency number for a while until Mav and I convinced him it would be easier if we cut out the middleman and took the calls ourselves.”
Presley smiled. “Robert means well, I’m sure.”
Logan chuckled. “Yeah, he does. I shouldn’t complain. We’ve made a lot more money since he came on board.”
“How about Brielle?”
“Brielle’s only been helping us out for a few months. I wasn’t crazy about the idea because the job can sometimes get dangerous, but she insisted if we wouldn’t take her money, then she was going to pay us back for helping her by working with us.”
“What did you and Mav do for Robert and Brielle to make them so loyal?”
Logan gave her a small smile. “Those would be two very long stories and I think I’ve talked enough for one night.” He picked up his empty beer bottle and gestured to her glass as he got to his feet. “I’m going to get a refill. You want another soda?”
Presley looked down and realized both the pizza and her drink were long gone. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see it was almost midnight. She stifled a yawn as she stood up. Earlier, she hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep, but now she realized she was kind of tired. Not surprising since all the adrenaline was out of her body.
“Thanks, but I thi
nk I’m going to go to bed.”
“There are clean towels in the bathroom and if you’re cold, there’s an extra blanket in the closet.” He paused, then added, “I’m going to stay up and keep doing some research, so let me know if you need anything.”
Presley thanked him and headed toward the bedroom. At the door, however, she stopped to look at him. “You know, Brielle was wrong about you, Logan. You aren’t a jerk.”
She didn’t wait for a reply, but simply gave him a smile before going into the bedroom. Maybe with Logan in the next room, she might actually be able to get some sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
IT HAD BEEN a long time since Logan had a woman around but listening to Presley in the next room was nice. Reassuring even. Maybe because he knew as long as she stayed with him, she’d be safe. For some reason, he felt extremely protective of her. Which was kind of surprising since he hadn’t even wanted her around two days ago. Of course, he didn’t know she was being targeted by a homicidal ghost then. That changed things.
He only thanked God he’d gotten to her apartment when he did. He still couldn’t believe she had the presence of mind to set a protective circle of salt around herself, especially when she’d been so terrified. At least she’d relaxed a little when he told her the warehouse was impervious to any and all ghosts. He hoped she got some rest. She’d looked exhausted. Then again, he had bored the hell out of her with his life story. That would be enough to put anyone to sleep.
Logan was amazed he’d been so open with Presley. He hadn’t said that much about what had happened to his partner since…well, ever. He hadn’t told the shrinks in Bellevue, that was for damn sure. Hell, he hadn’t even told Mav that much about it. But Presley had a way about her that made it easy to talk to her. Maybe it was all the work she did as a school counselor. Or maybe it was because of what she’d gone through with Del Vecchio. Maybe in some weird way, it made them kindred spirits.
He took a swig of beer, then grabbed the book he’d picked up on the way back from the kitchen and thumbed through it until he found the section on ghosts, hoping the research would get his mind off the beautiful, blond damsel in distress and how easily she’d gotten him to confide in her.
He was halfway through the chapter when he remembered he was supposed to meet Mav up in Maine. Thinking he’d better bring his buddy up to date, he took out his cell phone.
“Walker.”
“Hey, it’s me,” Logan said.
“I was wondering where the hell you were. You on your way up here?”
“That’s what I’m calling about. Presley was right about Del Vecchio. The asshole did come back and he’s after her.”
“You sure?”
Logan clenched his jaw. “I’m sure. And he’s as real as she said. His ghost paid her a visit earlier tonight at her apartment and terrorized the hell out of her.”
“You there now?”
“No. I brought her back to my place.”
There was a pause. “Your place? I hate to break it to you, dude, but it’s not exactly female friendly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you even have any food?”
“Yeah, of course I have food. Leftover pizza. Presley seemed to like it.”
“Of course she did.” Mav let out a breath. “Did you ever pick up any toilet paper? The last time I was there, all you had was a roll of paper towels.”
Logan scowled into the phone. “Yeah, I have toilet paper. Besides, the important thing is that she’s safe here.”
“The place is a fortress, I’ll give you that. You’re that worried about her safety, huh?”
“Yeah. This thing isn’t like any ghost I’ve ever dealt with before. One minute, it can walk through walls. The next, it’s slicing and dicing women who look like Presley. He’s already claimed four victims since coming back from the dead.”
“Damn,” Mav breathed.
“You ever heard of a ghost being able to do that?”
“Never. You sure the thing’s a ghost and not something else?”
Logan snorted. “Other than the fact that it doesn’t like salt, I’m not sure of anything right now. Suffice to say, I’m not going to be able to get up to Maine right away. You hook up with Brice yet?”
“Not yet. He wasn’t at the motel where we were supposed to meet and I can’t get him on his cell. I’m going to head out to look around some more tomorrow, see if I can find out what he was up to. You need me to come back there instead?”
“Nah, I have this. Stay there and see what’s going on with Brice. If I can’t deal with this on my own, I’ll give you a call or ask some of the other local hunters for help. Hopefully, I can get rid of this ghost or whatever the hell it is quickly and get up there to back you up. It’s not like Brice to ask for help, then not be there to meet you.”
“No, it’s not,” Mav agreed. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Watch your back with this ghost, huh?”
Logan assured him that he would, then hung up. Tossing the cell phone on the coffee table, he hit the books again. After an hour of reading, he still wasn’t any closer to figuring out what kind of ghost he was going up against. Hoping some of the other hunters he knew might be online, he grabbed his laptop and connected to the Internet, then pulled up Messenger. To his relief, a few of his friends were online and he set up a conference chat so they could all talk to each other as a group.
Most of them were of the opinion Del Vecchio might not have been human to begin with. Since that would certainly explain why the son of a bitch was acting completely unlike any ghost he’d ever dealt with, Logan didn’t discount the possibility. Unfortunately, it still didn’t tell him what the thing was now or how to destroy it.
The best suggestion any of the other people could come up with was the tried-and-true method for dealing with ghosts Logan planned on using all along anyway. Find Del Vecchio’s mortal remains, sow them with blessed salt, then burn them. If this thing was a ghost, even some bizarre new kind of ghost, that technique should work. If it didn’t, he’d be able to say with some kind of reasonable certainty that he was dealing with something other than a ghost. Of course, then he’d have to come up with another way to get rid of it. But he’d deal with that when he got there.
Logan was logging off Messenger when he heard a terrified scream come from the bedroom. Tossing his laptop on the couch, he jumped to his feet and pulled the shotgun loaded with rock salt out of his duffel bag. There was no way Del Vecchio’s ghost could have gotten into the house, much less circumvented the protection charms Logan had put around the place, but that was the only thing he could imagine making Presley freak out. His blood ran cold at the thought of what that sicko was doing to her.
When Logan ran into the bedroom, Presley was sitting up in bed, her eyes wide and unfocused as she stared at something only she could see, blanket clutched to her chest even as she let out a scream so loudly it sounded like her throat might tear. For one horrified minute, he thought Del Vecchio had already been there, stabbed her and disappeared, but he didn’t see any blood.
That’s when it hit him.
Presley was having a nightmare. He’d seen enough traumatized people to recognize the look on her face. She was reliving the night Del Vecchio had attacked her.
Swearing under his breath, he set the shotgun on the dresser and hurried over to the bed. When he put his hands on her shoulders to calm her down, she gave a start and slapped his hands away.
“Presley, it’s me. It’s Logan.”
She didn’t seem to hear him—or if she did, the words didn’t register—because she shook her head wildly and tried to push him away again. He didn’t let her. Instead, he sat next to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
“Shh,” he hushed, rocking her trembling form back and forth. “It was a bad dream. You’re safe. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
He kept repeating the words over and over until she finally quieted. Her screams becoming little more
than a whimper, she melted into his arms, pressing her face against his chest. He expected tears to come on the heels of a nightmare like the one she had, but there weren’t any. Just long, shuddering breaths and ragged coughs.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper against his chest. “It seemed so real.”
“Shh. There’s nothing to apologize for.” Logan pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “How long have you had the nightmares?”
She curled her fingers around the material of his T-shirt. “From the moment I woke up in the hospital. Seeing Del Vecchio’s ghost has made them worse than ever. He keeps coming after me over and over with that knife…”
A shudder went through her body and his arms tightened around her. “I won’t let him hurt you, Presley. I promise.”
She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Will you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? Please.”
He should be trying to figure out how to kill this asshole, but at the pleading look she gave him, he couldn’t say no. “Of course.”
She relaxed against his chest again. Logan leaned back against the headboard and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman in his arms, especially one who was so beautiful or needed his help so badly. It felt good, even if she was only there because of a nightmare.
