The Blessed Undead (Return to Sleepy Hollow Book 2)

by Candace Wondrak

  Then again, if that was the case, I never would’ve met Bones or Crane, or even Wash, and I didn’t think I could handle that.

  Now that I had these loveable idiots in my life, I didn’t want to let them go and I definitely couldn’t imagine any life without them in it. This mess I was currently wallowing in, this wonderful, confusing thing was my life.

  “I think I feel something for him, too,” I said quickly, biting the bullet. The bush had already been beaten around, so it was time to finally get around it.

  Crane didn’t say anything, but at least he didn’t move his hand off me, nor did he pull away. That had to mean something, right? Or maybe he was just processing what I said, so caught off-guard he didn’t know what to say.

  So I rambled, “I’m connected to him the same way I’m connected to you and Bones. There’s something pulling me toward him, Crane. If I could stop it, if I could pretend like it doesn’t exist, I would—trust me, that’s what I want to do. I just…I can’t. I can’t pretend, and I don’t want to lie to you or hide it from you.”

  Finally, Crane spoke, “We knew you were connected to the Horseman when you first crossed the bridge at midnight and he didn’t kill you. When he asked you for help finding his head—I highly doubt he asked anyone before. I assumed it was because he was drawn to you.”

  “Or my witchy powers,” I mumbled, hating the fact I was a witch and didn’t know it until recently. Crane wanted me to learn how to harness the power in my blood, but I wasn’t at that point yet. I just wanted to enjoy some normalcy for a while, before things got crazy again, because when magic was involved, craziness always seemed to follow.

  “Or those,” Crane agreed.

  When he said nothing else, I asked, “You’re not upset?”

  “That depends, I suppose.” A beat passed between us before he questioned, “Did you tell Brom about this yet?”

  “No,” I said, rolling my eyes when I watched Crane smile in the darkness. What a ridiculous boob. Still, I couldn’t believe he wasn’t upset in the slightest. “You’re really not mad at me?”

  Crane reached for my face, poking me in the cheek before finding what he wanted: my hair. He ran his fingers through my hair gently, his thumb running over my cheekbone in a gesture that was so soft and loving I was immediately quieted. “In all honesty…no. Like I said, I knew you were connected to each other, I just didn’t know what the level of it was. Now I do—and you told me before you told Brom, so I can’t help but feel a bit happy about that.”

  These guys and their feud, or whatever it was, made me roll my eyes constantly. Although, to be fair, they had come a long way. They weren’t at each other’s throats constantly, and at least when they were around me, they were on their best behavior.

  “And besides,” he went on, “it’s obvious.”

  “What’s obvious?”

  “That Wash feels the same about you,” Crane whispered, the hand in my hair moving to my neck, running down until it hit my collar bone, which he then traced and gave me the shivers. “The way he watches you, Kat, it’s clear he feels for you. He’s not human, so he might not realize what he feels, but I can see it. Bones and I have actually discussed it, believe it or not—”

  I jerked away from him, sitting up and staring at him, my mouth agape. The sheets pool around my waist, my chest bare in the dark room. “You have not,” I stated, my eyebrows furrowing. If these two had a discussion about Wash and me…

  Crane moved to lay on his back, nodding once. “We have, actually.”

  “When?” My voice was shrill, and I did my best to lower it mid-word. I had no idea whether or not Wash ever slept, or if he just shut himself in the room Crane gave him to shut us both up and give us some semblance of privacy, but still. I did not need him barging into the bedroom and interrupting us because he thought something was wrong based on my voice.

  “Brom and I do speak to each other, on occasion. We both worry about you, so I think it’s only natural that we band together to try to stop you from doing anything foolish.”

  I could not believe what he was saying. He and Bones spoke to each other? Did he mean they talked on the phone when I wasn’t around or what? I was usually with one or the other, and that conversation was definitely one I would remember. I was so flabbergasted that I stuttered, “I—I never do anything foolish.”

  That was a big, bald-faced lie, especially around these parts. In Sleepy Hollow, stupid was my middle name. Crossing the bridge at midnight just to show everyone how stupid they were for their local urban legends, for one thing. Not believing in spirits and flaunting it was another. Oh, and who could forget me chugging the potion instead of Crane when we were trying to make Bones believe our story? Yeah, if Wash hadn’t listened to me—if he would’ve gone ahead and killed Bones while tossing me aside—that would’ve been downright awful.

  Crane laughed quietly. “Kat, it’s alright. We all do stupid things every now and then.” He reached for me, pulling me down to his chest.

  I nestled against him, laying my cheek against his flat chest as I mumbled, “I can’t believe you and Bones talk about me.”

  “What else are we supposed to talk about?” Crane asked. “The weather? He and I are so different, and we really only have you in common, so of course we talk about you. You are our responsibility.”

  I shot him a glare I knew he couldn’t see. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means we both love you, and we want what’s best for you,” Crane said, speaking the L-word with no trepidation whatsoever, as if he’d said it before. He hadn’t, by the way, and neither had Bones. This was the first time I heard the word love from either of them. “And if that involves Wash being around, well, we’re okay with it. He’s done nothing but watch over you since he reunited with his head.”

  That wasn’t quite true, just ask Crane’s old television.

  “And you’re not mad I have feelings for him?” I muttered against his chest, still somewhat surprised at what he was telling me. Him and Bones talking about me, about Wash? Deciding things on their own? I mean, I thought they were still enemies. Frienemies. Whatever the word was. The guys must’ve grown a lot closer than I thought, which was okay with me. The bickering was fun every now and then, but if it was constant, it grew tiring.

  It was just a shock, was all. My brain couldn’t register the fact that Bones and Crane might’ve grown to be begrudging friends.

  “I know the feeling of being drawn to a person I’d never met before,” Crane answered me, wrapping his arm around my lower back as he referenced his feelings for me before he even met me. “If it’s anything like that, I know it’s impossible to fight.” Always rational…well, usually. “I don’t know how it would work in the long run, but I would never leave you over it.” He smiled to himself. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Kat. You’re everything to me. Now that I have you, I’m never letting you go.”

  This was so not how I was expecting this talk to go, but I was happy with the outcome, thrilled that he wasn’t upset with me…not to mention startled but content now that I knew Bones and Crane didn’t outright hate each other.

  This…this could be my life, forever. If it was, it wouldn’t be so bad.

  I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

  Chapter Six

  My body felt heavy, like a thousand pounds, a huge, indescribable weight on my shoulders. My head hurt a bit, too—and I had no clue as to the reason. After a restful night’s sleep, your body shouldn’t feel like this. You should be rested and alert, ready to take on whatever the day brought you.

  Instead, I felt like crawling back under the covers and sleeping for another eight hours.

  But…something didn’t feel right.

  In addition to my body feeling super heavy, sore like I’d just been hit by a truck when I wasn’t looking, I was also not in bed with Crane anymore. The cool wind of the outside world hit my back, swirling through my hair and chilling me to the bone. My eyes str
uggled to open, my feet bare on something hard and coated with the morning dew.

  My hand was on something, almost like it was wet with…something. It was hard to give descriptions when my eyes were refusing to open. Two small traitors in my head, refusing to listen to my command: open, you sons of bitches!

  It took me way too long to open my eyes, needless to say, but when I did—when I finally was able to lift my lids and see where I was, my heart nearly stopped.

  Nope. I wasn’t in Crane’s bed anymore. I was outside, in the back on the patio, with one arm outstretched before me. The odd part? Well, there were quite a few of those, actually.

  For starters, I wore clothes—jeans and a t-shirt—which was odd mostly because I didn’t recall putting them on. Actually, I couldn’t recall even getting out of Crane’s bed, or waking up this morning.

  What was the oddest part, you might be wondering? Let me tell you.

  Dirt coated my hands, and I had a flat palm against the siding on Crane’s house. More dirt sat on the siding, and I couldn’t remember if I was wiping off the dirt or what. There was no way I’d put it on there, because what reason did I have to do something like that? Hell, I shouldn’t be out here to begin with.

  The backdoor to Crane’s kitchen hung wide open, and with another gust of wind, I glanced down, finding I wasn’t wearing the charmed pendant. I had to get back inside and find it. Last thing I knew, it was in Crane’s room. I’d taken it off as we were tearing off each other’s clothes and…

  How the hell did I get out here?

  I jerked my hand away from the siding when I heard a deep voice from the open doors, “What are you doing?”

  Exhaling a sigh when I recognized it as Crane’s voice, I turned to look at him, finding that he was sipping from a mug—tea, undoubtedly. “I…” I trailed off, taking a step back from the house. “I don’t know.” My whole body felt off…weird, somehow. Like everything was just a bit strange, like I was stuck in the otherworld…which I wasn’t. There’d be no blue sky and sun rising in the distance if I was.

  Crane’s green eyes flicked to the dirty siding and then to me, noticing what I already had. “You’re not wearing the charm. Hurry up and get inside.”

  I mechanically followed him into the kitchen, and he shut the doors behind me. The delicious smell of bacon entered my nostrils, and for a moment, I lost myself in it. Wash stood near the pan, watching it sizzle, as if he was in charge of it.

  Crane moved to my side, setting his tea down before snaking a hand around my lower back, pressing his lips to my cheek once before he whispered, “This morning was a fun surprise.” He said nothing else as he moved to relieve Wash from his bacon-watching duties, and I can do nothing but stare at him as he does.

  This morning? What…what the hell happened this morning that was a fun surprise? I was pretty sure I’d remember having sex with him again—something like that you didn’t just zone out of.

  I sat on one of the stools near the island, folding my arms across each other as I struggled to think back. If my life depended on remembering the events of the morning, how I wound up outside with dirt under my fingernails, I’d die. Plain and simple, because struggle as I might, the memories were not coming to me.

  Crane cooked some potatoes, along with some eggs, and by the time breakfast was done, I still wasn’t sure what was going on. I didn’t want to worry him, but I would tell him if I still couldn’t remember in a few hours. Losing that much time…wasn’t normal. And sleepwalking wasn’t my thing. I’d never lost time like that. Me and blackouts were strangers.

  Breakfast was always a fun affair when Bones didn’t come over. Crane picked at his eggs the same way he did every morning, cutting off the excess white before breaking his over-easy eggs open and dabbing his toast in them, pausing to take a bite out of the potatoes every now and then. I just dumped a shit ton of salt and pepper on everything, going for the bacon first, because hello, it was bacon. You didn’t just let it sit on your plate and get cold.

  Wash, on the other hand, mashed everything together with his fork and shoveled it in his mouth faster than you would believe. The eggs, the potatoes, the bacon; everything was mashed by his fork until it looked like a gross paste of near-goo. I couldn’t judge him, and I never said anything about it because watching him go at his food as if it would be his last meal never got old.

  And then, it was as I had that thought when I came to a startlingly depressing realization: he might not ever have a meal again. He wasn’t human. How long could he stay on this world? Was he immortal in the sense of a vampire—thank God those things weren’t real—and he’d never age? Or, on the flip side, would his body be unable to stay in the real world for long? If that was the case, if we didn’t have much time left…it made me sad.

  It made me sad because even though I’d spent the last few weeks with him as my shadow, with his stern scowl watching over me regardless of what I was doing, I’d grown to depend on his presence.

  I needed him, and now Crane knew it. I’d tell Bones soon enough, the next time I saw him, but for now, I was content to sit there and pretend my life wasn't spiraling. No blackouts. No spirits whipping my charm off. No otherworld and, above all else, no danger. My life was peaches and cream right now, and I wished it would never change.

  Peaches and cream.

  Peaches and fucking cream. Did people even say that?

  After breakfast was over and Crane was putting everything away, I went upstairs to grab the charm. I found it on the floor, near the nightstand in Crane’s room…almost like it was tucked away on purpose, nearly out of sight completely. On my knees, I stared at it for a long moment, knowing I’d put it on top the night before, not wanting to lose it.

  I took the chain in my hands, standing up to put it on, but a large, quiet presence behind me stopped me. I glanced up, meeting Wash’s dark stare, temporarily losing myself in the sullen intensity of his expression. His lips were parted just a hair, his eyes intent on me. It took every ounce of self-restraint in me to not reach up and touch his face.

  Hell, it was hard to not grab him by the shirt, pull his ridiculously tall frame down to my level, and inhale everything about him. Wash was sex on two legs, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of him was as impressive as what I saw now. Was he hung like a horse? Would it hurt to have sex with a man like that?

  I didn’t even care. Nope. Not one bit. I’d take the pain with the pleasure and smile all the while.

  Since I couldn’t jump the man right now, I simply held out my hand, offering him the necklace. His brown eyes flicked to my outstretched hand for only a moment, and he was sluggish in taking it from me, his fingers dancing across my palm as he did so. When his bare skin touched mine, it was electric. It was everything a touch should be, and also everything it shouldn’t be.

  I shouldn’t feel a warming in my lower gut from just a grazing of our flesh. I shouldn’t want to climb him like a tree or claim him like an undiscovered territory, but I did. I so did, and even though I’d spoken to Crane about it, I still felt guilty. I’d probably feel guilty even after talking to Bones about it.

  Turning to give my back to him, I snaked an arm under my hair and lifted it, giving him better access. My breath caught in my throat when he took a step closer to me. He was like a sauna, his body radiating so much heat it was unreal.

  Ignore it, I told myself. Just…ignore it.

  That was so much easier said than done, because ignoring a man like Wash was just not possible.

  He moved slowly as he draped the pendant around my neck and worked to fasten the clasp. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was moving slow on purpose, like he didn’t want this moment to end, either.

  But end it did, like all things did in the end.

  Once it was secure around my neck, I let my hair down. After inhaling a great breath, I turned around, but I stopped the moment I realized Wash hadn’t moved an inch to give me space. He still stood close, less than a foot away from me, and
I now stared directly at his upper stomach.

  Damn this ridiculous height difference.

  The way he stared at me made me think something was on his mind, so I asked, “Is everything okay with you, Wash?” What I wanted, of course, was for him to speak. I wanted to hear his voice, but I also knew it might never happen. If he was a spirit of some kind, if he wasn’t even a man…how could he possibly speak?

  At his sides, his hands stretched and flexed, his fingers spreading apart before curling into fists. Wash was at odds with himself, but he was slow to open his mouth, as if he wanted to try to say something.

  Excitement hummed within me, and I found myself leaning forward, even closer to him. I was practically on top of him, which wouldn’t be a problem in and of itself, but I still had to talk to Bones. No jumping Wash until then—and only if Wash told me, or at the very least, showed me, he wanted me, too.

  My mind raced with the possibilities of what he would say. He had to understand English, because when I asked him to do something, he was able to understand me without a problem. If he was just a powerful spirit that took the form of a man who died violently during the Revolutionary War, would this technically be his first time speaking? So many questions, so few answers.

  His dark eyes seemed to intensify, and then his mouth snapped shut. He wasn’t going to speak; I didn’t know why that notion disappointed me so much. I wanted him to try. If he needed to be taught some things, I was more than willing to do it. I’d help him all I could since he helped me.

  We stood there staring at each other in silence for a few moments. Soon enough I’d get him to speak. I wasn’t going to give up on him so soon. He’d spent hundreds of years stuck in the otherworld, terrorizing and haunting that bridge and anyone who was stupid enough to cross it, so it had to be a new thing to him.

  Plus, you know, he couldn’t very well talk without a head.

  After a while we went downstairs, finding Crane in the living room. He had on a light blazer, his car keys in his hands. “I was about to come up and get you,” he said. When I gave him a blank look, he added, “We are still going to your father’s house, aren’t we?” A weird thing about Crane: it was always father and never dad, but sometimes it was Philip. He was a stickler for it.