Shattered Spirit (Totem Book 4)

by Christine Rains

  She had never been scared of the dark or what lurked in it. Grandfather could try all his little tricks. Squeaky doors opening, lights flickering, and reno folders falling on the floor. None of it would work.

  But alone in the guest room at three in the morning, Ametta was exhausted and frustrated. She refused to go to Lucky and ask for his help. She didn’t want to be seen as a damsel in distress. Plus, slipping into his bedroom in the middle of the night would only encourage him, no matter what it was for.

  She picked up her phone and brought up Kinley’s number. No. She didn’t want to listen to Ransom being naughty in the background.

  Her dad wouldn’t care if she called him at this hour, but Ametta didn’t want to go running to Daddy either. He’d probably agree with Lucky and say there was nothing to worry about. Lucky and her father got along way too well for her comfort sometimes.

  That left Saskia. She tapped the side of the phone with her finger. Her sister would be pissed if she woke her up.

  The bathroom door creaked open.

  Yup, no more.

  Ametta dialed Saskia’s number and the phone rang. And rang and rang. Did Saskia not have voicemail?

  “What?” Saskia voice was sudden and clear. Ametta jerked and almost dropped her cell.

  “Hey, sorry to call at this hour.”

  “You better be. Aren’t you over on Kodiak with the Kodiak?”

  Ha ha, so clever. “Yes, and I have a problem.”

  “Just fuck him already.”

  Ametta ground her teeth. Why did she call her big sister? Ah, yes, as the third choice. “That’s not why I’m calling. I have a spirit problem.”

  “You’re giving the guy a serious case of the blue balls. And if it’s spiritual—”

  “I didn’t say it was spiritual, I said spirit!” Ametta huffed. “There is a ghost in the house, one of Lucky’s ancestors. He doesn’t seem to like me. He isn’t keen on the reno either.”

  “Most ghosts hate renos. What else can you tell me about it?”

  Ametta pursed her lips and brought to mind all the details. “It’s been making noises, moving things, trying to scare me off…”

  “So a poltergeist. Don’t go to the light.”

  She rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t think so. It doesn’t bother Lucky at all. Just me. It protects the house. Maybe like a guardian angel or something?”

  “No. Angels don’t get attached to houses.” Saskia yawned. “So it’s an ancestor and a protector. Kodiak Island was taken by Russians centuries ago. Going by that flavor of magic, my guess would be… a domovoi. Yeah, good luck there. Is that all you wanted?”

  Maybe she did call the right person, no matter how unsupportive Saskia was being. “So you know this type of spirit? What can you tell me about them? Can I get rid of him or shut him down for a while or something that will allow me to get some sleep?”

  Saskia chuckled. “Domovoi aren’t like regular ghosts. I don’t even know if they’re even really what we’d consider ghosts. They’re protective spirits, like guard dogs if you want. Intelligent and sometimes powerful, depending on the need. Mostly they’re benevolent, but I guess you pissed him off. I’ve never heard of a way to get rid of one because families want these spirits.”

  Whatever. Ametta just wanted to sleep. “So what do I do?”

  “Hop into bed with Lucky.”

  She wasn’t even going to dignify that with an answer. “Seriously, Saskia.”

  Saskia sighed. “I don’t know. Try salting all entrances to the room. It might keep him away for a while. Or do something to appease the spirit, make nice with him.”

  “The only thing Grandfather wants is for me to stop the reno.” Ametta rubbed her eyes as she fought against a massive tired headache.

  “Grandfather?”

  “Yeah, that’s what Lucky calls him. It’s not his actual grandpa, but a great, great, great… You get the point.”

  “Salt tonight. Make nice tomorrow. Treat him like one of your clients.”

  Like a client? Maybe. The ghost was a man, so if Ametta could find what appealed to him, she could do this. Yes. Everyone wants their home to be beautiful. “Okay. And if that doesn’t work?”

  “Hell, if anyone can appease a cranky client, it’s you.” Saskia yawned again, more loudly this time. “Speaking of clients, a tree for a toilet? Seriously. The doc is a big softie when it comes to those pups.”

  Ametta chuckled and caught herself yawning. “But the doctor pays well and recommends us to everyone. I’ll let you go. Thanks for your help.”

  “Yeah. Just don’t call again at this hour unless you’re dying. And go jump Lucky’s bone already.”

  Click.

  No goodbye or updates on what she’s doing. Sisterly love at its finest for Saskia.

  Ametta slipped out of the queen size bed and used the light from her phone as a flashlight to brighten the way downstairs to the kitchen. Salt shouldn’t be too difficult to find. There had to be a pantry somewhere.

  She paused at the double French doors that led outside and squinted her eyes to look past her reflection as she stared into the dark backyard. Movement caught her attention at the back near the fence. Branches? No. An elk had gotten into the yard. Not that there were any flowers or vegetables to eat at this time of year.

  Wait. That was a veggie garden. Did Lucky garden too?

  How little she knew about him. Many a time she thought of giving in and letting him seduce her or taking control and having her way with him in her office. But that’s when she had him figured out. She’d been wrong. And she was excellent at assessing personalities. That’s what made her so good at her job.

  Sighing, she continued on to the kitchen. Tons of cupboards. A salt and pepper shaker set sat on one counter, but she was going to need more than that.

  Lucky, the brave and gorgeous Kodiak shifter. A fireman who liked beer and steak. And her.

  Now it was Lucky, the independently wealthy descendent of Cremaschi who cooked and gardened and volunteered as a firefighter. He lived by himself in a giant haunted house with a ghost that likely sat with him in his mancave and yelled at kids to get off the lawn.

  How did she fail to see the real man? Maybe she didn’t want to see him. He didn’t want her to fall for him because he had a fat checkbook. She wouldn’t have. In fact, she fell for him thinking he was a gruff fireman.

  A door. Ametta opened it and immediately closed it when the darkness yawned before her. No way was she going down into the cellar.

  Why was she obsessing over this? It didn’t matter if Lucky lived in a Cremaschi house or a little log cabin. He lived in Alaska and didn’t want to leave. Her destiny was elsewhere.

  A second door. She swung it open and let out a long breath. The pantry.

  Ametta stepped into the huge storeroom and swept the shelves with the light from her phone. Lots of canned goods, especially soup and chili. Jarred fruits and vegetables. Did Lucky do that himself too? She didn’t know if she could handle him having another domestic skill.

  The door ripped out of her hand and slammed shut. Ametta let out a yelp, nearly dropping her cell.

  Her heart pounded as she reached for the doorknob and twisted. Nothing. It wasn’t locked. It didn’t budge at all. She cursed under her breath.

  Leave. The male voice reverberated in her head. Powerful, demanding, and angry.

  Ametta screamed with red hot fury. How dare the domovoi lock her in the pantry! She hit the door with a fist and considered shifting. She’d tear the door off the hinges and chuck it at that bastard. Not that it would do any good considering he was a ghost.

  Leave the house in the morning.

  After she hit the door again, it flew open. Expecting the domovoi to come rushing at her, Ametta let out a shriek. Instead, Lucky stood there with a gun in hand and gawked at her.

  “Thank you.” Ametta walked out of the panty with her chin up and went to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. Anything to hide the shakiness of her hands
.

  “What the hell is going on? I thought someone was being murdered down here.” Lucky lowered his handgun and ran his fingers through his mussed hair. He wore only boxers, and they left nothing to the imagination. Not that she hadn’t seen him naked before, but even after that scare, she couldn’t not appreciate that hunky body.

  “Nothing to worry about. Your grandfather locked me in the pantry. I’m heading back up to bed now. Good night.” Ametta wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. She didn’t want to let him know how much it had affected her. In the morning, she’d win over the ghost her way.

  “He what?” Lucky let loose a long, rumbling growl. He followed Ametta out of the kitchen and put his arm around her. He shouted at the ceiling. “Let her be, Grandfather. She’s my guest. Treat her with the same respect you’d give to me.”

  There was no response from the domovoi, but Ametta didn’t expect any. There’d be no more excitement tonight. Grandfather had made the point he wanted to make, but Ametta wasn’t leaving the house. “Thanks.”

  “No one should treat you that way.” Lucky traced the spaghetti strap of her camisole and ran his fingers over the silk on her lower back. “Mmm. Nice pajamas, hot stuff. You wear these every night?”

  A shiver of desire zinged through her. How easily he turned her on. She stepped out of his reach and went up the stairs, smiling over her shoulder at him. “Every night. Good night.”

  He groaned behind her, but didn’t chase her to her room. Good thing. She didn’t know if she had the strength left tonight to resist him.

  Sleep. She wrapped her arms around herself as she lay down, but her eyes kept popping open. Tomorrow was going to be a battle.

  It took Ametta half an hour to find where the ghost hid her laptop in the morning. If she could dismiss it as a childish prank, she would, but it was another message from Grandfather that he didn’t want her there.

  Standing with Lucky in the kitchen as breakfast cooked, she noted the stiffness of his movements and tightness of his jaw. While the domovoi was picking on her, it affected him too. Sighing, she suggested, “I’ll leave if you want. Not because he told me to.”

  Lucky set down the knife he’d been using to butter toast and pulled her close to him. “I don’t want you to leave. Grandfather is overprotective and probably kind of ticked off we’ll be changing things inside the house. Don’t renovations stir up the ghosts, make them go a little crazy?”

  “No.” Ametta stated evenly. “Only home owners get stirred up.”

  Lucky furrowed his brows as he regarded her and then laughed. “You didn’t believe in ghosts before now, did you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. I always considered it a childish belief.”

  He continued to chuckle and squeezed her before letting her go. “You, a shifter, didn’t believe in ghosts. And with Alaska being one of the most haunted places in the world!”

  “It’s not.” Ametta folded her arms.

  “Oh, babe, it totally is. Plus, you have Black Shamans in your family. You’ve probably heard tons of tales of weirder stuff than spirits.” He fetched a jar of strawberry jam, opened it, and began to apply it in thick layers on the toast.

  “Black Shamans don’t tell stories. You’ve met Saskia and Sedge, and while my dad tells tall tales about fishing, he never speaks of his days as a Black Shaman.” Trying to ease the tension she felt, she rolled her shoulders. Was Grandfather still listening to them? “Whether I believed or not, I have experienced it myself now. What do you plan to do about it?”

  Lucky raised his head and stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  “You live with a grandpa ghost who breaks things and yells at people he doesn’t like. Who knows what he sees here. You can never be assured private time, or if you have a woman in bed—”

  “Nope. Not even thinking that.” He shuddered and continued on with the jam. “I’m not going to do anything. Grandfather has always been here and never caused any trouble. It’s just you, babe. You get people all riled up.”

  “Laugh all you want. I don’t take crap from anyone. Not even old man ghosts.”

  The temperature suddenly dropped, and the curtains waved with a breeze that had not been there a few seconds ago. Yesterday it was the hair on her arms that stood on end. Now every hair on her body vibrated with energy.

  A dark blur zipped by the stove. When Ametta turned her head, nothing was there. Then a second to her right by the cellar door. Grandfather?

  “Did you see that?” She gripped the edge of the counter. An exorcism didn’t seem like enough now.

  “I think—” Knocks echoed out from the dining room, and he ran to peer inside.

  Leave this house. The same voice she’d heard the previous night. Raspy, like rustling paper.

  Ametta froze, forgetting to breathe for a few seconds. When she finally gulped in a lungful of air, she wrapped her arms around herself. Lucky rushed from one side of the kitchen to the other, checking behind everything.

  “This is my house. We’re not leaving.” Lucky’s voice didn’t waver even with the tense command.

  Not you, boy. I will always be here for you. The fondness in the voice rang clear, but it twisted when Grandfather spoke again. It is the harpy who would destroy our home I want gone.

  Fear fizzled under a red hot wave. A harpy? An urge to slap the ghost surged through Ametta. Not that she could slap him.

  “Ametta is here because I asked her to come. She’ll not harm the house. I want to update the décor.” Lucky walked to her and slipped his arms around her. His body relaxed against hers, and he lightly stroked her arm. “You have nothing to worry about, Grandfather.”

  But I do worry. It is the changes that she will make to our home and to you that I do not like. And while she might not harm the house, she will hurt you. She’s not good enough for you, boy.

  Ametta’s eyes widened. Really? This old man didn’t know who he was dealing with.

  “Grandfather,” Lucky started to speak, but Ametta didn’t need him to defend her.

  “Not good enough?” Ametta stepped forward with her hands on her hips. No one talked down to her like this, not even a ghost. “I am damn good enough. You don’t even know who I am.”

  A blast of coldness washed over Ametta’s face. I know you are a shallow young woman. You know nothing of yourself. While Lucky goes out of his way to please you, you turn away from him, insulting him.

  Ametta held her ground. Could the ghost touch her? Could he harm her? Clearly he could make physical objects move. Fling one knife across the room and hit the right spot, Ametta could be dead. No, the spirit wouldn’t hurt her or else he would’ve already. “You’re entitled to your opinion, sir, but the only thing that matters is what Lucky thinks, and as he said, he’s the one who invited me here.”

  The domovoi huffed, sounding truly like a disgruntled old man. Beware this woman.

  The cold melted away, and the buzzing of energy in the air vanished. Was the spirit gone?

  Ametta waited half a minute before smoothing her blouse and facing Lucky. Why did he need protection from her? She wouldn’t hurt him. From the beginning, she’d made it clear she wasn’t staying in Alaska, and he had stated he’d never leave. If he continued to pursue her, he was only hurting himself.

  Okay, so maybe she should cut off all contact with him, but she liked his attention. She liked him.

  Damn that ghost.

  And the cranky phantom made a point Ametta didn’t want to agree with, but the truth gnawed at her insides. “Do you agree with what he said about me?”

  “What? That you’re shallow? Not at all. You’re one complex woman.” Lucky winked and went back to breakfast as if they only had a conversation with a pushy neighbor.

  She shook her head. “No, about me insulting you. Because that’s not what I want to do.”

  Lucky leaned with his elbows on the counter and regarded her with his mismatched eyes. “Listen, I knew what I was getting into with you. You don’t play gam
es, and I respect that. But I know what I want. I’m not going to back down from pursuing it no matter what the consequences might be. You might leave Alaska or maybe not. I’m taking a risk, I know, but I’m a big boy.”

  Ametta nodded once. It was what she suspected all along, but it was good to hear it. He wasn’t going to stop her from going after her dreams, though.

  His lips curled up into a luscious smile. “And if you come over here, I’ll show you exactly how big this boy is.”

  Ugh. Men.

  Ametta was going to double her weight eating the food Lucky prepared. Every meal he made enough to feed the entire bear population on the island. She usually ate light in the mornings, but eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast sat heavy in her stomach as she set her folders on the dining room table along with her laptop.

  Lucky lounged in a chair beside her and flipped through an interior design magazine. “I definitely don’t want anything flowery or neon… or whatever that is.”

  She glanced down at the page he pointed at. “Art Deco. I didn’t figure that was your style.” She picked up a black folder and handed it to him. “Look at that. These are much more masculine designs. I also have a box of wood samples.”

  Pushing aside the magazine, he opened the folder and nodded. “Yeah, this is much better. Nice. Everything doesn’t have to be gray or blue. I’m open to more color.”

  Ametta smiled and sat in front of her computer. “Good. I really want to stay true to what Cremaschi had done with this house. Grand elegance, but modernized. Would you call your grandfather to the table, please?”

  Lucky lifted his head and furrowed his brows. “What? Why do you want to do that?”

  Time to be a professional. She clasped her hands on the table before her, sitting straight with her legs crossed at the ankles. Her pale pink blouse was modest and her pencil skirt covered her legs to her knees. “You said you lived alone, but you do not. When your grandfather confronted us in the kitchen, he did not want me to do this reno. I believe if he’s included in the process and sees I’m going to bring out the natural beauty of the house, he’ll be much more amenable to the idea.”