Once Haunted, Twice Shy (The Peyton Clark Series Book 2)

by H. P. Mallory

  “Oui, ma minette,” came his reply, and I immediately closed my eyes.

  I could see him again. He was standing in his living room, dressed in his immaculate police uniform. It was as if no time at all had passed between us. He smiled that handsome grin at me and suddenly feeling buoyantly happy, I threw my arms around him. Burying my head against his warm chest, I inhaled his familiar scent and let my tears flood my eyes.

  “Ma minette,” he said with a little chuckle. “Do not be upset, mon petit chaton. I do not like to see you cry.”

  I wiped the tears away, wishing I could clear the frog from my throat. I pulled away from him and tried to smile as I beheld his beautiful face and sensuous, endearing smile. The thing that struck me most, however, was that Drake didn’t seem at all surprised. Because after experiencing everything that we’d just endured, shock and intense sorrow seemed to be my only feelings. But not Drake.

  “You knew,” I said to him, as the realization continued to dawn on me. “All along, you knew how this was going to end, didn’t you?”

  He nodded sadly, that melancholic yet nostalgic smile of his still in place. “Bien sûr, mon chaton, of course I knew.”

  Without another word, I brought my hands to his face so I could run my fingers down his cheeks. I loved being able to touch him—and how real he felt. Finally. He seemed just as real to me as he had in 1919.

  “Peyton?” I heard Ryan’s voice.

  I didn’t say anything to Drake, but he just nodded as if he understood that I had to leave him . . . temporarily. “Go,” he said as he bounced his finger off the end of my nose. “We will have plenty of time to visit later.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for . . . everything.”

  “Do not thank me, ma minette,” Drake responded, his eyes revealing the fact that he regretted nothing. “I did only what I had to do . . . because I love you.”

  I felt my heart break at the same time because I loved Drake too. What was more, I knew I needed to tell Drake the truth regarding how I felt about him. “I love you too, Drake, and you will always have a special place in my heart. I can’t tell you how fortunate I feel to have been able to see you in real life in 1919, to have been able to experience what it would have been like for us to be together.” But then I realized what also needed to be said, what had to be made crystal clear. “I do care about you very much, Drake, but . . . you and I also know that we can never be anything other than two ships passing in the night.”

  “Oui, ma minette, I understand,” Drake said, his voice sounding dejected. “Though I have tried to convince myself that we could love one another in dreams or that strange yet lovely place that exists when you close your eyes . . .”

  “It isn’t real, Drake. You and I could never be anything other than what we are right now because only one of us is alive. You know that,” I said and paused for a moment because it was a thought that had occurred to me as well. But when it came down to it, Drake was a spirit and I was alive, with a vibrant and exciting life ahead of me that I had to experience, that I wanted to experience. I couldn’t live the rest of my years in my head or in my dreams. I had to live in the moment, in the now.

  “Oui,” he responded and then sighed. “Oui. Much though it pains me to admit this, mon chaton, le barbare is good for you. He is . . . a good man. And, what is more, I can see his love for you.”

  I smiled and, figuring there wasn’t anything more I could say, I opened my eyes.

  I found Ryan gazing down at me. I was suddenly so happy and relieved at the sight of his beautiful face that I couldn’t hold back another bout of tears. I looped my arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer to me, and aching to feel his warmth.

  “It’s okay, Pey,” he crooned into my ear as he ran his hands through my hair. “Everything’s gonna be all right now.”

  Although his words soothed me, I didn’t understand how everything could be all right. I pulled away from him and addressed Lovie. “How?” I started. “How did I get back here when your bag with the tonic and all the exorcism tools in it stayed here and never traveled back with me to 1919?”

  Lovie smiled and patted my arm with tenderness and care. “Y’all have Samuel ta thank fer that,” she said. As soon as she mentioned him, the strange little creature blinked into existence, and I spotted him where he sat on Lovie’s lap. “Samuel’s block was removed,” Lovie continued, “an’ as soon as it was, he warned me that ya needed help gittin’ back here.”

  I nodded as the puzzle pieces started to fall in place. “Samuel’s block must have been removed when Baron Samedi swallowed the demon,” I said as Lovie nodded. “But how did you get me back here?”

  Lovie smiled wider as she reached down and started petting Samuel. Apparently, now she could see him again. “I relied on mah sixth sense, Peyton,” she answered. “Once Samuel’s block was removed, I was able ta witness everythin’ you was experiencin’ through my connection with Samuel. Once I understood ya needed help gittin’ back ta yer own time, I simply fed ya the tonic, little by little, while you was sleepin’.”

  So Lovie managed to bring me back by making me drink the tonic in the present time. Interesting . . . I inhaled deeply and heaved a sigh as I remembered Baron Samedi was the one who had forced the demon out of me and exiled it into the land of the dead. Now it remained to be seen what his payment would be. Somehow I wasn’t worried about it though. Maybe it was foolish, but I had a feeling that Baron Samedi wanted me to succeed. I didn’t know why but I felt as though he was on my team, rooting me on.

  The memory of the Loa of the dead inhaling the demon of the Axeman suddenly hit me like a great gust of wind from a previous life. I felt my entire stomach drop as worry began infusing me. I faced Lovie with widened eyes. “Do you think the demon is gone for good?” I asked.

  She nodded immediately. “Oh, he definitely gone.” Then she eyed me curiously. “An’ once ya gits ta feelin’ betta, I gots me some questions ta ask ya.” I was pretty sure her questions centered on Baron Samedi, but I didn’t say anything; I just nodded.

  Lovie stood up and took Christopher’s hand. “We gonna give y’all some time now ta be alone with each other,” she said as she started for the door, dragging Christopher with her. I watched them leave the room before my eyes fell back on Ryan.

  “Are you okay?” he asked with a warm smile.

  “I think so,” I said, heaving a dramatic sigh of relief. I thought long and hard about my adventure, and how I’d made it back to my own time. I knew I would never forget my time with Drake, nor how he threw his own life down to protect mine. I took a lot of comfort in knowing he was still in possession of my body, and as such, he was still a substantial part of me. I smiled up at the breathtakingly handsome man who had captured my heart. “Actually, I’m better than okay.”

  TUESDAY, APRIL 22, 2014

  It was five minutes to midnight on Monday, April 21. It was five minutes before the truth would be revealed about whether or not the Axeman really had been defeated.

  “Are you nervous?” Ryan asked me as he reached over and grasped my hand in his much larger one. We were sitting on my bed in my guest bedroom. The television was on, although I didn’t have a clue what program was playing. Instead, my attention was riveted outside. The full moon reflected against the bare branches of a nearby tree, which swayed this way and that, subject to the strength of the wind. A light rain had started up only an hour or so earlier and now the wind blew the drops against the window until they sounded like fingers drumming against the glass, punctuated by the occasional scraping of the branches.

  “Yes, I am nervous,” I answered, seeing no point in pretending otherwise.

  Ryan pulled me into his broad and warm chest, wrapping both of his arms around me as he kissed the top of my head. I rested my head against him and tried to take comfort in the fact that he was there with me, that I wasn’t alone. I gl
anced at the clock and noticed two minutes remained before midnight.

  “There’s nothin’ to worry about, Pey,” Ryan crooned into my ear. “I’m here with you an’ I’m not goin’ to let anythin’ happen to you.”

  I smiled up at him but didn’t say anything. Instead, I brought my attention back to the clock and started the count down in my mind. Fifty-five seconds remained.

  I’d turned Drake off in my mind, seeing as how he didn’t exactly appreciate my more intimate moments with Ryan. Regarding my ghostly friend, I didn’t really know what the future held for us. I figured it made the most sense to exorcise Drake from my body and put him back into our house or, better yet, free him so he could move on to greener pastures in the unknown. But the idea of losing him left me nothing but cold. The truth was that Drake had become a part of me, a part of me that I didn’t want to do without.

  I glanced at the clock again.

  Thirty-five seconds.

  Whatever happened with Drake would remain to be seen. It would be a long and involved conversation that I would have to think about another day . . . well, that is, if midnight didn’t bring with it the end of everything I knew.

  Twenty-five seconds.

  “Everythin’ is goin’ to be fine, Pey,” Ryan whispered into my ear again as he held me even more tightly.

  Fifteen seconds.

  Suddenly the television flashed as static took over, the sound deafening in my small room. I felt my stomach drop to my toes as my heart started beating frantically. “What—?” I started as I sat up from where I’d been leaning against my headboard. I was suddenly on high alert. “What just happened?”

  Five seconds.

  Ryan jumped up and started for the television at the same time that the rain seemed to increase tenfold, the wind blowing even more frantically, throwing the rain into the windows until it sounded like someone was trying to break through the glass.

  I glanced at the clock again.

  One second.

  When the clock struck midnight, the static on the television blinked away and we were faced with an attractive woman talking about the benefits of Tide Plus Bleach. Ryan turned around to face me and smiled widely. “See? Everythin’ is just fine,” he whispered as I swallowed down my own fear. “Must have just been a power line or somethin’ that freaked out for a bit,” he finished. He patted the top of the television and continued to smile at me. “Nothin’ to worry about, Pey.” He reached over and turned the television off.

  I was still holding my breath as I peered around the room, my senses finely tuned to . . . I didn’t even know what. I started to inhale as I realized nothing was happening. The room was just as quiet as it had been and the wind and the rain outside continued to pelt the glass with the same intensity as they had only moments earlier. There were no sounds of screaming or back panels of doors being chiseled out. There were no sounds of windows shattering or axes meeting flesh and bone. There was only the sound of my own breathing in time with the beating of my heart.

  Ryan walked back toward me and reached for both of my hands, gently pulling me up until I was standing directly in front of him. He leaned down and tilted my chin up, his warm lips brushing mine as I felt his tongue suddenly enter my mouth. I closed my eyes and melted into him, loving the feel of his hands as they played with my hair. His hands traveled down my back, and farther south still, until they finally rested on my bottom. He cupped each of my cheeks and pulled me against him, allowing me to feel his stirring excitement.

  After another few seconds, he pulled away and smiled down at me again, his grin salacious and laced with hunger.

  “I made you a promise,” he whispered. “You will always have mah protection.”

  I started to smile and thank him but the smile and the words faltered on my lips. As the milky rays of the moonlight hit his stunningly handsome face, I could swear that the irises of his eyes were glowing white.

  Or maybe it was just a trick of the light.

  Acknowledgments

  To my family: Thank you for all your support!

  To my editors at Montlake: Thank you for making this book so much stronger!

  To my agent, Jane Dystel: Thanks for being awesome!

  To New Orleans: Thank you for being such a magical city!

  About the Author

  A New York Times bestselling author, H.P. Mallory began her writing career as a self-published author. She’s a huge fan of anything paranormal, and anything ghost or vampire related will always attract her attention. Her interests are varied but aside from writing, she’s most excited about traveling. She’s very fortunate to have lived in England and Scotland, both places really having a profound effect on her books. H.P. lives in Southern California, where she is busily working on her next book! Please find H.P. on the web at: www.hpmallory.com