I’d seen it before, on multiple occasions.
The spirit’s face was bent down, but it slowly lifted its head, revealing a woman-like face with eyes of a pure, milky white. Its hair was long, practically as tall as I was, I bet, defying gravity with every turn, as if the spirit was a mermaid, caught in water, and her hair was her main beauty. The spirit wore a ratty white dress, its fabric holey and so thin you could see through it. The picture-perfect image of a nightmare, really.
This was the spirit Wash had protected me from for so long.
In a flash, the spirit lunged off the chair, tackling me to the ground. Such a sudden movement, I could do nothing as I slammed onto the floor behind me, the spirit straddling me, her hair seemingly whipping back and forth like snakes. Her white eyes bore down on me, like two daggers, but the most frightening part was her teeth. When she opened her mouth, she revealed rows of sharpened teeth, tiny, knife-like toothpicks that I knew would hurt like a bitch. Her sharp nails started to dig into my shoulder, and just as she lowered her face to mine, she froze.
I blinked, watching as her form faded above me, as her hair lost its magical floatiness and her head lolled back. Her figure faded until it was nothing but mist, and then even the mist vanished. The white-haired woman was no more.
Wash stood, his arm outstretched, his double-sided ax having been heaved into the spirit’s back. He was slow to withdraw himself, his ax fading out of existence, and he knelt by my side, offering me a hand.
“Thank you,” I took it, and as he helped me up, as he brought us back into the real world, I put the pieces together.
That spirit was watching me from day one. She didn’t try to attack me…because Katrina had told the spirit not to. She was under Katrina’s thumb, doing her bidding, possessing Bones to distract us from her plan. Everything came together, and I hated that it took me this long to figure it out.
The moment we were back in the real world, I hobbled on my feet, losing my balance somewhat the same time I lost my vision. Wash’s grip on my hand didn’t lessen; he held onto me firmly, refusing to let me go.
We didn’t spend too long in the otherworld, and my blindness was short, relatively speaking. Any bout of blindness was too long, if you ask me, especially when I desperately had to see whether or not my spell worked to save Bones…or if it was too late. If his soul had been permanently damaged, if he was a vegetable or something—God, I didn’t think I could take it. If I lost him, that bitch Katrina would rue the fucking day she came after someone I loved.
I quickly wiped off the bloody tears on my cheeks, moving around Wash, whose large, wide body blocked off Bones from my view. I spotted Crane leaning over Bones, checking his pulse. Bones, meanwhile, had his head hanging low. He looked quite unconscious.
“Is he,” I paused, hating that I had to say this last word: “alive?” Not a question I ever wanted to ask, especially about Bones. Or Crane. Or even Wash. Why couldn’t me and my three guys just live in peace? Why did it have to be danger and death and spirits all the time? It got old, and soon enough we weren’t going to be so lucky.
Maybe our luck had run out today.
Maybe I failed to save Bones.
Maybe this was the end of it all. It was nice while it lasted…
“He’s alive,” Crane said, straightening out. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, and before I knew it, Crane strode to my side, engulfing me in a hug. “You did it,” he whispered into my ear, giving me a soft peck on the cheek.
I couldn’t smile, not even as he stared down at me expectantly. I wouldn’t smile until Bones stirred, until he spoke and grinned with his dimples. I’d only smile when I knew he was indeed alright. “The spirit,” I said, “it was the same one that was stalking me before. Katrina must’ve had it watching me ever since I came to town.”
Crane, his hands gingerly holding my sides, only nodded once. “It would make sense. If she wants you, she’ll want to make sure she knows you’re staying out of trouble.” Gears in his mind must’ve been turning, for he started to say, “I can only imagine the power it took for her to track you, not to mention the power to leap into bodies and possess them, like spirits do.”
“You think she possesses the bodies she takes?” I asked, disentangling myself from Crane.
“A spell like that would need a power source, certainly.” Crane frowned, his green gaze falling to the floor. “Black magic is powerful, and there is no stronger source than a soul.”
I wanted to ask if he thought she’d need my soul too, since technically we were the same, weren’t our souls similar? But I didn’t get the chance, because a groaning sound rose up behind Crane, and we both turned to watch as Bones slowly raised his head, his eyes squeezed shut, a wince on his handsome, beaten face.
“What…” Bones stopped, tugging at the restraints holding his arms back. “What is going on? Why do I feel like I just had a run-in with Freddy Krueger?” His blue gaze opened, landing on me, then Crane, and lastly Wash. “And why are you all staring at me like…like…” He shook his head, but quickly stopped, another wince.
His voice sounded normal, but I had to see them: the dimples. Unless I saw the dimples, I refused to believe it. Spirits were tricky sons of bitches, they liked pulling the rug out from under you when you weren’t looking.
And then, almost as if Bones subconsciously knew what I needed to see, he smiled as he let out a chuckle. And that smile—thank God that smile created two deep dimples in his cheeks. “I’m sorry, guys, but I don’t feel too good. My head is killing me. I think I need a nap.” He looked down at himself, seeing his bloodied clothes. “And a shower.”
I darted to him, throwing my arms around him in a hug. As much as anyone could hug someone tied to a chair, that was. “Bones,” I whispered his name, “you’re back.”
“Yes,” he said, “and I’m also in pain. While you know I love you, I somehow don’t think now is the time—” His voice was pained, and I instantly realized I was probably pressing on bruises and wounds without realizing it in my hug-fest.
As I pulled away from him, I gave him my best smile, relief filling me. “I love you too, you idiot.”
“Idiot?” Bones echoed as Crane worked to untie him. “That seems a little harsh. Isn’t it harsh, Crane?”
Crane went around and around, tugging at the duct tape, but soon enough he said, “You know, it might simply be easier to cut through it. One moment.” He searched through the drawers in the kitchen, looking for scissors. He purposefully avoided the knife the spirit almost used to end Bones’s life.
I didn’t blame him; I didn’t want to look at that particular knife ever again, either.
“Third drawer on the left,” Bones called out.
“Third drawer on the…I already looked in that one,” Crane said. “Are you sure—oh, wait. Here they are.” He returned to Bones’s side with scissors, cutting through his wrist and ankle restraints first, and then, carefully, the one on his chest. Once the entire thing was cut, it was easier to peel the thick layers of duct tape off of Bones.
“I think I know my own kitchen,” Bones muttered, shooting a look that would’ve meant more if he wasn’t beaten and stitched up. His arms moved slowly, and he went to touch his face, grimacing when he found the cut there. Luckily the one on his face wasn’t too deep; Crane had only bandaged that one. “What the hell happened? The last thing I remember…I was getting ready for work this morning, and…”
Crane helped Bones to stand, and I silently marveled at how close they were, especially since they couldn’t stand each other a month and a half ago. They were almost bros now, though I would hesitate to ever call Crane a bro. He wasn’t a bro. He was…he was just Crane.
“Fetch him some clean clothes, will you?” Crane asked me. “We’ll explain everything on the way to my house.” Bones looked like he wanted to argue, but he was silenced when Crane said, “Believe me, my house is the only safe place in town for you now.” His green eyes met mine, and I knew what
he was thinking.
If that spirit was working with Katrina, if she was in control of it somehow, she’d know we exorcised it from Bones. She’d know the spirit was no more, thanks to Wash’s ax. Bones wasn’t safe, not here, at least. Crane was right; we had to take him back to his place.
As Wash and Crane helped Bones to the car, I went into Bones’s bedroom and grabbed some of his clothes, stuffing them in a bag I found in his closet.
Well, at least Bones was safe. One problem down.
Chapter Eleven
We explained it all to Bones on the drive over, and Bones listened with a quiet intensity. He didn’t have many questions; everything was pretty self-explanatory. He was in danger because he was my weakness, as was Crane. Really, neither of them were safe to walk anywhere in town until Katrina was taken care of, at least not alone.
When we arrived at Crane’s house, before Bones went upstairs to try to shower and wash off the dried blood that had seeped under his clothes, he told us one thing: “We need to figure out who Katrina is.”
He was right, of course.
Crane meandered to the kitchen to make himself some tea, and I collapsed on the couch in the living room. It was a stiffer couch than the one Bones had, but all of Crane’s furniture was stiffer. It suited his personality, somehow, while Bones was freer.
Wash sat beside me, his large frame hunched over, his head turned slightly to look at me. I gave him a small smile, setting a hand on his knee. Not too far up, lest my body start to react to him as it had back in Bones’s house—I still had to talk to Bones about it, anyway—but enough I meant it to be comforting.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Wash,” I whispered, meeting his dark eyes. They were like two black holes, capable of swallowing you up whole. Dark, deep things you couldn’t help but be drawn to.
Of course, it definitely helped those dark eyes were set in a face with a square, chiseled jaw and a Roman nose that dominated his side profile. There was honestly not a thing about Wash I would change. At six and a half feet tall, he was a giant, but he was the sexiest giant to ever walk Sleepy Hollow’s streets.
“You,” Wash spoke, his voice rough and low, “need me…and I—” Every word sent heat flooding into my core. Just his voice was enough to make me swoon. “—need you.” He chose his words with a deliberate carefulness, and I sat there, replaying them in my mind.
You need me, and I need you.
If that wasn’t the truest thing ever said, I didn’t know what was. Here, in this house, it was clear we all needed each other. The four of us were stronger as one, a single unit, fighting whatever rogue spirit or old witch tried to start trouble. We could be Sleepy Hollow’s protectors, Tarry’s defenders…if we ever got the hang of it.
Then again, if I looked through my tablet of shadows—which had disappeared sometime after Crane wrote the spell on my arm—and found a spell to lock the veil, permanently, there would be no more spirits. No more random break-ins the police couldn’t do anything about. No more possessions and no more lost lives, except to human age and human stupidity. Still, I’d take that over spirit possession any day.
Crane walked into the living room, a steaming cup of tea in his hands. “Did I just…” He trailed off, glancing between Wash and I. He noted my hand on his knee, but said nothing about it. “Did he just speak?”
Oh, right. I never told him about that, did I? With everything going on, it slipped my mind.
“He’s trying,” I said, getting to my feet as I warned him. “Don’t push him, Crane. And don’t be jealous Wash talks to me and not you.” I shrugged, holding in a laugh as Crane shot me an exasperated look. “I’m going to try to wash this off,” I said, pointing to the spell on my arm. “Please play nice?”
They’d play nice. My men not getting along wasn’t one of my problems anymore, thankfully. From what it sounded like, Bones and Crane accepted Wash, but I had to talk to Bones to be certain. I had to hear it for myself. And Wash? He walked into the relationship between Crane, Bones, and I. He came into it knowing it was kind of a mess. Really, things had only improved since then.
I left Crane and Wash in the living room, turning in the main hall before heading up the stairs. Crane’s house was large enough to have more than one bathroom, but why would I go to a bathroom Bones wasn’t in? Seemed kind of silly. So I stopped before the bathroom I heard water running in, slowly reaching for the knob.
It was as I turned the knob and walked in that Bones shut off the water, and I got an eyeful of a gorgeous, beautiful hunk of a man. An injured hunk of a man, but a hunk of a man nonetheless.
Bones’s blue gaze rose to me, and he wasn’t shy as he reached for the towel hanging on the wall near him. He didn’t bother to cover himself as he patted his chest dry, then his legs. My eyes fell to his hanging dick and balls for only a moment. What really drew my eyes were the injuries.
My Bones, all cut up because of me. To hurt me.
“You know,” Bones said, “it is incredibly hard to shower when your arms and face are cut up like this. I tried not to get the bandages wet, but, eh…” He gave me a smile. “I do feel better, though. I took some pain relievers I found in the medicine cabinet. I’ll probably have to take them for a few days, but it’s better than feeling each cut every time I move.”
Crane’s house was a mansion, and his bathrooms showed it. I was used to bathrooms that barely fit a toilet, a vanity, and a shower in it, but this bathroom had it all. Marble floors, a double vanity with a double mirror, a medicine cabinet on the adjacent wall. Ample space between the toilet and the shower, whose door was all glass. The tub was separate from the shower, and it had jets and all the bells and whistles. It was nice—and big enough to fit more than one person.
I moved closer to Bones, my heart feeling, for lack of a better word, happy to have him here. Safe and alive, right where he should be. “You should stay here for as long as you can,” I told him, stopping when I stood in front of him. “Take a vacation from work, recover.”
“I suppose I could,” he said. “Explaining this to everyone at the station would be impossible.” Bones ran the towel over his head, along his blonde hair—its short, yellow lengths thankfully free of all blood now. His abdomen was free of any injuries, and I found myself reaching out and touching the six-pack there.
I mean, the muscles. Who wouldn’t want to touch them?
Bones said nothing about my wandering hand, only grinning a dimpled smile. With the cut on his face, he couldn’t shave, so it would be a while before he had a smooth jaw again.
Dropping my hand from his abdomen, I reached around my neck, pulling off the charmed pendant. “You should take this,” I said, “just in case you have to go out.” I tried handing it to him, but he set a hand around mine, gently pushing it back.
“Kat, I don’t want it. That’s to keep you safe. I’d rather be in danger than you,” he told me, his voice a bare whisper.
“I’m a witch,” I reminded him. “With my own tablet of shadows.” At that, we both smiled. “I bet I could find a spell to make another one.” Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. I could make us all spirit-warding charms; they wouldn’t save us from Katrina, but they would stop any spirits from getting to us. We just had to be wary of random, strange winds.
Well, that was that. A plan…for later.
I moved to set the pendant on the vanity, right on the corner. “I don’t care what you say,” I said. “I’m giving it to you, Bones.” When I turned to face him, I found that he now stood near me, almost pinning me against the vanity. Almost. I met his sapphire stare. “I nearly lost you today.”
Bones was sad as he said, “I know.”
“I can’t lose you,” I whispered, once again touching his abdomen. This time, however, I didn’t pull away after a few moments. This time I let my hand linger…and I let it go a bit lower than it did before.
His breathing instantly grew ragged, and between us, I saw his dick starting to perk up. “I know,” he sa
id again.
“Bones, I—” I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Bones set his hands on my face, tilting my chin up, and his lips came down on mine. Gentle, because of his injuries. Soft, because even with the pain relievers, he still hurt. How could he not? He had a spirit inside of him, nibbling at his soul. No way any type of pain reliever can fix a pain so deep and internal.
His stubble prickled my chin, but I didn’t care. I closed my eyes the moment our mouths connected, relishing in his taste. The hand I held against his abs moved to hold his side, and I leaned my front against his. I’d fold into him if I could, nest against him and never let him leave my side again—but, alas, even I knew that wouldn’t happen. He was a man with a job, and he wouldn’t be cooped up for long.
I ran my tongue over his lower lip, and he parted them instantly, allowing my tongue entrance. For the longest time, we were lost in each other, holding onto one another for dear life, as if daring Sleepy Hollow to try to tear us apart.
His erection pressed against my lower stomach, and the feeling of his hard length against me made my core ache. What I really wanted right now was to take Bones into the nearest bedroom and show him just how important he was to me, but I didn’t want to push it with his injuries. Instead I brought a hand between us, running my nails along the area just above his cock, eliciting a moan from him. When my hand moved to grip the base of his thick, hard shaft, Bones had to break the kiss.
“Kat, you don’t have to,” he murmured, saying the words, but deep down, I knew he wanted me to. I knew he desperately craved it, just as I wanted to feel him inside of me.
“I know,” I purred, slowly lowering myself to my knees before him. I wanted to do this, to please Bones, to show him just how much he meant to me. I wanted to make him lose himself in pleasure, even if he was hurt.
He wasn’t hurt anywhere near his cock, and I planned to make the most of it.
The Blessed Undead (Return to Sleepy Hollow Book 2) Page 12
