Reach For Me

by Elizabeth Cole

  She nodded in comprehension, her eyes now locked on him instead of unfocused like they were before. “Wait, a fight?”

  “Yeah, I do a lot of martial arts,” he explained hastily.

  “Oh. That explains…” A blush crept into her cheeks. “Um, that just explains it.”

  Behemoth took that moment to leap onto the table, and Cara was obviously glad of the interruption. “Who’s this?” she asked, holding a cautious hand out for the cat to sniff.

  “His name is Behemoth. Family cat. He’s sort of a jerk.”

  But Behemoth was purring up a storm as Cara began to pet him. Her shocked expression began to fade as she focused on the cat. Behemoth was probably working some sort of cat magic to calm her, which was the first useful thing he had done in quite a while.

  “Charm offensive, Behemoth?” Mal asked the cat.

  Just my usual charm, the creature replied in his mind. Are you jealous I can seduce her when you cannot?

  “Shut up,” Mal muttered.

  Cara blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing. Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You think you can tell me what you saw now?”

  Cara closed her eyes. “I swear it was a ghost.”

  She said nothing more, maybe waiting for Mal to laugh in her face.

  He didn’t. Instead he pushed the mug of tea toward her, simultaneously whisking Behemoth off the table. “Drink this.”

  “I’m not crazy,” she muttered.

  “I don’t think you are. But you are in shock, at least a little.” It was too hot to drink, but the solidity of the ceramic mug would be grounding enough to keep her from shivering. And the tea, whatever it was, smelled amazing. Lily was very good with herbs. That had to help.

  Cara wrapped her hands around the mug.

  Mal kept his voice calm. “Tell me what you saw. I promise I won’t laugh.”

  She inhaled, and in a small voice recounted what happened to her. Mal nearly had a heart attack when she talked about smoke and fire. He’d have lost his mind if he was in that particular situation.

  “You say you had a weapon?”

  “Not really a weapon. I was using a chisel and I had it…until I dropped it.”

  Mal nodded. A simple, solid iron tool was exactly the right weapon for a novice to choose. Iron was damn good against anything from the fae otherworlds, and in fact, iron was great against corporeal things too. Anything that could deliver a good whack.

  “What did you do then?”

  “I followed the noise into the east room. I had the chisel, I figured it was just a raccoon or something anyway.”

  Cara was bolstering herself up, and he admired her for not caving after her first, terrifying encounter with the supernatural.

  She was saying, “I heard someone tell me to get out, to leave and never come back. And I turned when I heard that, because there’s not supposed to be anyone else in the house and I saw this shape. A person. But no one could have got there without passing by me. There’s no doors, no windows, nothing. But I saw them, and I felt a push toward the stairs, and I was just running out of the house.”

  “What did it look like? The ghost?”

  She shook her head. “I was panicking. I’m sure I’m not remembering it right. For a second I thought it was a little girl, but that’s got to be me thinking of horror movies to fill in the blanks. I can only be certain about the eyes. And the voice. Something in that house really doesn’t like me.”

  All of a sudden, tears were rolling down her face. Mal forgot all his good intentions to keep his hands off her and leaned forward to take her in his arms.

  Cara resisted for half a second, and then softened against him. Despite everything, despite his goal to ignore any physical reactions to her, Mal inhaled the scent of her sawdusty hair and felt how incredibly soft she was, and he’d be happy to hold her all night.

  Do not say anything stupid about how she smells good, he warned himself. She’s scared out of her mind.

  After a moment, Cara mumbled something. Mal leaned back. “What was that?”

  “I’m sorry. This is unprofessional. My crying, I mean.”

  “Cara, it’s ok. You had a really weird experience. Ghosts are scary.”

  “It can’t have been a ghost,” Cara said, more firmly than before. “I don’t believe in stuff like that. There’s a rational explanation, and in the morning, it will all make sense.”

  Mal said, “I believe in ghosts.”

  She looked over at him suspiciously. “Do not play with me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You, macho workout martial arts dude, believe in ghosts.”

  “Yes. My physical workout regimen doesn’t have anything to do with my metaphysical…regimen. Or something.” Mal was annoyed at his own statement. “My point is that I one hundred percent know ghosts are real. And I am not surprised to hear that you saw one in that scary house up there.”

  Cara got defensive, fast. “At least I’m working on it, making it habitable. Not like this place.”

  “We are working on it,” Mal said hotly. “We do what we can, ok? It’s not like we planned to have pigeons living in the rafters.”

  Her expression brightened. “Oh, that’s easy. If you know where they’re getting in, you can staple chicken wire over the opening. Not while they’re in there, duh. But scare them out, and—”

  “Cara. Forget about the pigeons. Let’s get back to the ghost.”

  “It wasn’t really a ghost.”

  “What if it was?”

  “Are you trying to freak me out?”

  “You were already freaked out when you ran over here.”

  “Yeah.” She shivered, and Mal’s instinct was to pull her close again and hold her till she stopped shivering. But Cara would probably use a chisel on him if he tried it.

  While he was thinking things over, Mal texted Lex, who was still away on his research mission.

  Re: Egans. Look up to see if there was a girl living there. Daughter, niece, etc. Cara saw ghost.

  Lex texted back almost instantly. Ghost! OMG. Will do lookup.

  Mal rolled his eyes. Sometimes talking to Lex was like talking to a teenage girl. He blamed Lily. The chica was a bad influence when it came to texting.

  Behemoth sunk a claw into Mal’s calf to get his attention. We need to talk.

  “Owww! Ok.” He glanced at Cara, who was watching him with wide eyes. “’Scuse me, I just got to go feed him.” He grabbed Behemoth and moved into the big pantry off the kitchen.

  “What is it?” he hissed at the cat, who was laughing at him.

  First woman who places professionalism over fun with you. What will your brothers think?

  “Do not tell them! Not Dom, not Lex. And definitely not Lily!” He did not point out that Lily was not a brother, or even a Salem. Lily was basically an honorary sister, and she’d tease the hell out of Mal if she ever found out he’d been turned down flat by Cara.

  Behemoth had Mal in a corner, literally and figuratively. What is my silence worth?

  “What do you want? Tuna? Salmon? What?”

  I shall consider my price, Malachy Salem. In the meantime, you must examine that house as soon as possible. Tonight. By dawn the lingering energies will dissipate and we’ll learn nothing.

  “I can’t leave Cara here!” Mal said, almost forgetting to keep his voice down.

  I could make her sleep, the cat replied.

  “You can’t just slap some cat magic on anyone who gets in your way.”

  Behemoth looked puzzled. I assure you I can.

  “I mean it’s not kosher. By the way, what do you think of her?” he asked. “Apart from the turning-me-down thing?”

  The cat twitched his tail a few times, which Mal recognized as a thinking gesture.

  She seems on the level.

  Mal winced. “Did you just make a carpenter joke?”

  Some of your predecessors were freemasons. The jargon
was much the same.

  “You don’t think she’s part of an evil plot to reopen a hellhole?”

  She is undoubtedly part of a plot. Whether she knows it or not is another matter. Open that can of tuna and feed me. For appearances.

  Mal did, grumbling about Behemoth’s opportunism. Back in the kitchen, Mal didn’t say anything for a while, considering the whole situation. He was unreasonably angry that something scared Cara so much. He started tapping his fingers on the table. “Ok. I’m going to go over there.”

  She looked up, alarmed. “No way. What if there’s…”

  “A ghost?”

  “I was going to say a real person,” she corrected. “A guy with a gun, maybe. Someone did steal copper pipe and fixtures. That stuff’s expensive enough that somebody might be pretty serious.”

  “All the more reason to find evidence of what’s happening.” Mal stood up. “Wait here with the cat. I’ll be back.”

  Cara stood too, a hard look on her face. “No way. Egan House is my responsibility. If you’re going over there, I’m going too.”

  Chapter 8

  Cara felt a lot braver with Mal next to her. Walking up the hill, she took in the bulk of Egan House, grim and glowering against the night sky. As ramshackle as Mal’s house was, it had a warmth that Egan House lacked.

  “You saw the ghost upstairs, in the eastern bit,” Mal said, looking at the house. “Not in the parlor?”

  “No. I was in the parlor, but the sounds led me upstairs. By the way, how can you even prove a ghost’s existence?”

  “There are ways, but not many that your average scientist would accept. The supernatural tends to screw with technology. When the creatures from the otherworlds step into ours, it creates all sorts of disruptions. Lex says it’s the result of realities clashing. And the effects are to make cameras go wonky and recording equipment fail.”

  “How convenient,” Cara noted dryly. “Who’s Lex?”

  “My little brother. He’s a genius.”

  “And also into ghost hunting?”

  “We’re all into ghost hunting. I’ll explain later.” Mal gave her a sideways glance. “What’s reliable is your gut. The feelings you get when you step into a space where the otherworlds are close. All the standard descriptions—a chill down your spine, the feeling of being watched, getting jumpy for no reason—that’s real. That’s humans reacting to the presence of the supernatural.”

  “Are you trying to scare me, because you’re scaring me.”

  He shook his head. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, Cara. Not while I’m here.”

  “You’re pretty full of yourself, you know that?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been told.” He grinned, evidently not offended in the least.

  Cara opened the door to her office trailer, grabbing the spare heavy-duty flashlight. Mal hovered in the doorway, taking in everything…including the sleeping bag.

  She caught his narrowed glance the moment he saw the sleeping bag, but didn’t want to deal with that on top of everything else right now.

  “Let’s go,” Cara muttered, pushing him out of the office and locking it behind her.

  They reached the door to the house, still open wide since Cara had torn out of there in a panic. Mal tapped the flashlight. “You’re on lighting duty.”

  They proceeded upstairs. Cara was relieved that there was no evidence of smoke or fire, because it meant the house was intact. But the flip side of that was she’d definitely been hallucinating, and that couldn’t be a good sign.

  In the room where Cara first saw the…whatever it was, Mal looked around carefully. He put his hands on the walls, as if feeling for secret passages.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “If there were real flames before, the walls would be hot. I’m just being thorough.” He pointed to the east wall. “The old wing used to be over that way, right?”

  “Yeah. That wall is an exterior wall now, but it wasn’t meant to be originally. That’s why the bricks don’t quite match on the outside.”

  Mal tapped a door on the wall in question. He tried the knob, which was purely decorative at this point. “Odd that they’d keep the door.” The door was a heavy, dark-stained cherry, with a tall mirror inset. The glass of the mirror was darkened with age, and the silver backing was seriously clouded and foxed, the little spots making it very difficult to use as a proper mirror.

  Cara moved across the room to join him, regarding the door with interest. “I guess they wanted to keep the look, even though it’s a brick wall on the other side. It’s really sort of amazing that more of this house’s interior didn’t get stripped and end up in a salvage yard. They don’t make doors like this anymore.” She ran her fingers over the carved decorations with the love that any artist feels for work well done.

  “You could do it,” Mal pointed out. “You could totally make a door this fancy.”

  She felt suddenly shy. “Well, if someone’s got the money they can custom order anything.” Then Cara looked down, seeing a glint on the floor. She bent down to pick up the tool. “Weird. This is my chisel, but I was never in this corner. How did it get here?”

  “Maybe you kicked it over here without knowing?”

  “Across the whole room? I feel like I would have remembered.” On the other hand, she was freaking out at the time.

  GO AWAY.

  Cara felt the words resonate in her head, and she looked over at Mal. “Did you hear that?” she whispered, her former panic threatening to return in half a second.

  He nodded, his expression going very calm. He maneuvered her toward the carved door. “Stay there, ok. I’m going to keep it away from you.”

  Cara stepped back, and Mal moved in front of her. He shook himself a little, flexing his hands open and closed. Getting ready for a fight. She picked up on his tension, even though she’d never been in a fight in her life.

  Without warning, a shadowy form coalesced in front of them. GO AWAY. It wasn’t speaking, but the words again shot into Cara’s mind.

  Mal didn’t respond with spoken words either. Instead of sensibly getting the hell out of the way, he jumped forward, directly into the shadow.

  The logical part of Cara would have said that it was impossible to fight a shadow, or a ghost. But the logical part of Cara was too busy gaping because Mal was in fact fighting it.

  It was hard to see what was happening, with the flashlight being the only illumination. She could see Mal, mostly, though parts of him would get eclipsed by shadow every few seconds. Or was it that he was moving faster than normal?

  Cara blinked, trying to understand what was happening. It was like Mal was there, and then he wasn’t, and then he was again.

  The shadow pulsed and roiled around him, and now Cara heard an incoherent scream of fear and pain echoing in her head. Mal kept lashing out, moving it and himself steadily away from Cara.

  “You’re hurting it!” she shouted, half-excited, half-terrified.

  Somehow, he was connecting with the amorphous shape, and just as it contracted into a much darker, almost solid form…it vanished. But for an instant, Cara once more saw the shape of a young girl.

  Mal stood alone in the middle of the room, in a ready stance, his eyes darting around, ready for anything to leap out again. After a long moment, he took a breath. His skin had a slight sheen, sweat from his sudden burst of controlled fury.

  “It’s gone for now,” he said at last. “But I only surprised it.”

  “You surprised me,” Cara burst out. “How did you do that? Hit a ghost? How fast are you? Like, you were weirdly fast.”

  He shrugged it off. “I practice.”

  No way was that the whole story, but Cara couldn’t worry about that now. She was shaking, her body catching on to the fact that something completely beyond her experience had just occurred right in front of her.

  “That was real?” Cara’s legs felt watery, and she leaned back against the wall.

  Mal made a step toward her, an
d Cara was about to beg for him to help her up, or even better, hold her and tell her things would be all right. She opened her mouth to embarrass herself, and that was when they heard the crash below.

  A giant, unmistakable thump echoed through the house, like someone dropped a ton of bricks.

  “What’s that noise?” Cara squeaked after a second of stunned silence.

  “That wasn’t a ghost for damn sure. Did you hear that kind of sound before?” Mal asked in a low tone.

  “No! It’s coming from downstairs. The parlor! My tools are still out.” Cara took a step toward the door, but Mal put a hand out to prevent her from going forward.

  “Hold up. I’m going first.”

  If this was what it was like to be around an alpha male, Cara was all for it. Mal moved down the stairs, as alert as he’d been during the fight. Cara trailed after him, happy that he was between her and whatever had made the crashing sound. Somehow, Cara had complete confidence that Mal could take on anything in his path. Before, she said he was full of himself. But what happened upstairs wasn’t bravado. It was cold, competent skill.

  Mal paused in the hallway outside the parlor. The sounds were unmistakable now. Someone was moving the heavy equipment closer to the hallway. Cara grimaced, thinking of the cost of the drills and the lathe.

  Mal held up a hand, signaling to Cara that she should stop. She halted, very willing to let Mal take the lead on this.

  Mal then stepped up into the doorway. “Hey asshole!” he yelled, his voice booming in the echoing halls.

  There was a startled silence, and then a shape hurtled out of the darkened room, directly toward Mal.

  Cara screamed a warning, but before she could blink, Mal moved so fast he blurred.

  She halted in midscream, her brain not able to take it in.

  Mal had moved out of the way of the attacker and then sort of swooped around to position himself in the hallway, between Cara and the other guy.

  The other guy, still nothing more than a shadow, raised an arm, revealing a crowbar in his grip. He howled, and started to bring his arm down, intent on smashing Mal’s head in with the wicked hook end.