He narrowed his eyes as he regarded her. “This is my house. He doesn’t live with me.”
“Since he is a domovoi, he does live with you. Or rather, he resides, if that suits you better. It will make him happier if you include him. And with a happy ghost, this reno will go smoothly.”
“Domovoi?” Lucky leaned forward and scratched his chin.
“Saskia knew what type of spirit your grandfather was. She says they’re mostly benevolent. Other than the tricks and yelling, I want to keep it that way.” What she was saying was reasonable. She thought Lucky would have been pleased she included the spirit in this.
“When did you talk to Saskia? What else did she say?”
To hop into bed with him, but he didn’t need to know that bit. “Last night before I came down to the kitchen. She didn’t say much else other than not to call her in the middle of the night again unless I was dying.”
His frown deepened. “So you called your sister instead of coming to get me.”
“I wasn’t going to wake you.”
“But it was okay to wake your sister.” He retorted.
She groaned and pressed her palms against the table. Be calm. “I wouldn’t call anyone at that time of night, but since Saskia knows a lot about the supernatural and I couldn’t sleep because of all the noise the spirit—”
Lucky stood, jaw twitching. “So the ghost in my house was bothering you, and you didn’t feel like you could wake me to help. This is my house, Mett. I’ve lived here all my life with Grandfather. If anyone knows about him, it’s me. You should have come to me.”
The calm disappeared. Ametta pushed back her chair and stood to face him. “And what would you have done? Ask him sweetly to stop? Try to coax me into your bed? I can take care of myself.”
“I know that. But this is my house. If you’re having a problem, it’s my problem.” He slapped a hand against his chest.
He had a point. She’d feel the same responsibility if it was her house, but she didn’t need a hero to rescue her. It was a ghost trying to scare her and push her out the door. That was a battle she could handle on her own. “I have no problems with you or the house. It’s the domovoi, and you have no control over him. I was trying to make nice and include him in the reno. Are you going to deny me the opportunity to make peace with him?”
“You aren’t getting it.” He shook his head and shoved his chair in against the table. It clattered as he threw up his hands. “Maybe if we were on the mainland and you called your sister instead of me, I could live with it. But you’re here in my house. You don’t trust me to help you.”
“That’s not it,” she blurted, taking a step toward him. It wasn’t anger in his expression; it was hurt. Shit.
“That’s it exactly.” He shot back. “It’s one thing you pushing me back every time you feel we’re getting too close. You’re figuring yourself out. I get that. I can be patient. But not this. If you don’t trust me, we will never work.”
Lucky stomped out of the room. Gaping, Ametta stared after him. She wanted to shout she trusted him, because she did. She trusted him with her life. But he was right. Her initial reaction was to not go to him. She didn’t even consider it when she was locked in the pantry.
She wanted to prove to him that she didn’t need to rely on anyone. He’d seen her cry when her father had been shot, held her as she wept against him. She wasn’t weak and didn’t need anyone to take care of her.
She pressed her fingers to her forehead, the hot sting of tears pooling in her eyes. Cold air. Just a minute outside.
Ametta hurried out of the dining room and through the kitchen to open the back door. A chilly wind rushed through her hair as she stepped out onto the porch. The sun shone in a clear sky, and she tilted her head back to bask in its rays.
The cold always helped her think.
Her problem: A ghostly grouch and a pissed Kodiak.
No, no. She was being overly dramatic. A protective grandfather and a hurt man.
She didn’t mean to hurt him. It had been the last thing she wanted to do. And there was another part of her problem: her ever growing feelings for Lucky.
Back by the trees, the elk lifted his head and regarded her. A grand animal. The red in its coat would make an excellent color for an accent wall in the dining room.
Maybe she should leave and forget about the reno. So she had always wanted to decorate a Cremaschi house. That dream was not as big as the one to be a famous international designer. She could pack up and go, cut off all contact with Lucky, and save them both from further heartache.
It wasn’t as if her family needed her help with the totems. They’d asked Lucky to do things and not her. She wiped at the fresh tears with her fingers.
Lowering her hands, she took a deep breath. She wasn’t the type to retreat, but it wouldn’t be like she was running from something. She was driving toward her ultimate dream.
From the rear of the yard, the elk stepped around the trees. Puffs of mist from his nose drifted up as he stiffened.
Ametta watched him in return, but he didn’t move. Maybe he sensed she was a bear.
Not wanting to cause anything else stress, she retreated into the house. It was her responsibility to fix the mess she created. None of this would’ve happened if not for her after all. She could have told Lucky she had no interest weeks ago and cut off all contact then. If she was going to be true to herself and be fair to everyone else, she had to leave Alaska.
Lucky returned to the dining room just as Ametta prepared to pack the last of her folders. “What are you doing?”
“I’m getting my things together. This isn’t going to work. I’ll be out of your way in less than an hour.” She couldn’t look at him, so she shuffled the folders, placing them in order based on color. Light to dark in soft rainbow shades.
“Is it because of Grandfather?” He drew nearer.
“No. You said you could take care of him.” Ametta opened her briefcase, and Lucky shut it.
He pressed the lid down and kept his hand in place. “You’re leaving because we had a little fight then?”
Her heart sped up, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she stared down at her folders. “You made it very clear what you feel.”
“Yeah, I did. And if I wanted you to leave, I would have told you to. But I don’t.” He reached with his hand and lifted her chin so that their eyes met. “Why do you feel you need to leave?”
So many reasons. How could she explain it all to him? And why was there heat flushing her face? She didn’t blush. There was nothing to be ashamed about. Except the complexity of emotions she felt. Her usual razor sharp focus blurred. “You know that I’m leaving Alaska.”
“Right now?” He dropped his hand.
“No, yes, I think I should. My family doesn’t need my help. They’ll find the totems without me.” Ametta shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. “And if I stay here to do your reno, it will just be harder on us when I do leave.”
Lucky cocked his head as his voice dropped to a softer tone. “On us? So you do…”
Honesty was the best policy, right? He liked she didn’t beat around the bush. So tell him. She opened her mouth and couldn’t find the words.
This wasn’t her. She always spoke her mind. Focus.
“There’s something between us.” There. It wasn’t that difficult. “It’s no secret I’m attracted to you. I mean, look at you! Tall, handsome, rugged. And you cook. Who wouldn’t want you?” Now she was rambling. “Yet even before we met, I had plans to leave Alaska. I still do. All my dreams lie far away, and I’ve never let anything stand in my way no matter how difficult it could be.”
“All your dreams?” He caressed her cheek and sent his fingers through her hair to cup the back of her head, drawing her to him.
The heat of his body called to hers. Okay, maybe a few of her dreams included having wild sex with him in his gigantic four-poster bed, and she’d even fantasized about snuggling with him, shari
ng breakfast in bed, traveling around the world together. But, no, it wasn’t going to happen. She was a designer. Ever since she was a child, colors and patterns sang to her. She loved the challenge of putting together new spaces and making them harmonize with those who lived there.
She wasn’t a Black Shaman to go hunting totems. Neither was she an Alaskan who was happy to stay in the north forever. Nor was she a potential fireman’s wife eager to stay at home with a half dozen kids.
Yet Lucky still made her heart swell. His smile sent tingles through her. And his flirty touches, so hot.
A world famous designer. Focus on that. “All my dreams.”
His shoulders drooped as his hand dropped. She immediately wanted to take her words back but bit her tongue. It was easier to do it now than later.
“All right. I’ll help load up your stuff and drive you to town. Shouldn’t be too hard to find a plane to take you back to Anchorage today.” He looked smaller as he turned and left the room.
Did he just give up on her? She wanted to shout that he didn’t dare. But this was what she wanted. It was always what she’d wanted. Why did she have to keep repeating that to herself? And why was she crying again?
Cold slapped against her, so hard she reached for the chair to steady herself.
Before Ametta could grab it, her feet rose from the floor, and she was thrown back against the wall. Her breath was knocked out of her, preventing a scream. She didn’t fall. She hung there three feet above the ground, legs kicking as pressure increased on her chest.
I knew you’d hurt him.
Her eyes went out of focus for a few seconds, and as they did, a black blur crackled in front of her. Did she just see Grandfather?
The domovoi pressed an arm firmly against Ametta’s chest. He hissed and spat at her.
Ametta kicked, trying to find something to put her feet on and push away from her attacker. She clutched at the bony arm on her neck and attempted to yank it away to no avail. She was helpless.
And he’ll forgive you. So you can hurt him again. The spirit growled, slamming Ametta against the wall again. He’s too good for you.
Her ribs threatened to crack. Ametta had hurt Lucky and hurt herself. Everything had been so clear cut before the gorgeous Kodiak shifter came into her life. If she was having such problems with her own heart, maybe she deserved…
Wait. She was touching the ghost’s arm. Sweeping up a leg, she whacked his body. She could hit him. She could fight!
With a thought, she shifted. Feeling like a sweep of a silken sheet, her bear snarled as she was freed.
The domovoi dropped Ametta. Black robed, spindly legged… thing. Long whiskers stretched out from under the raised hood, and a beard covered the bottom half of his face. Or was it fur? He wasn’t human.
Grandfather darted back as Ametta swiped at him with her claws. She used the ghost’s shock to her advantage, biting and tearing at him. But she didn’t touch anything. What was going on?
“Ametta?” Lucky’s shout echoed from down the hall.
The domovoi slammed shut the door. All surprise gone as he launched himself at Ametta.
Lucky pounded on the thick wood of the door.
The ghost propelled himself and Ametta over the table and smashed into a wine cabinet. Wood snapped and bottles shattered.
Ametta grunted as she fell to the floor. The power of this thing. Grandfather was so much more than a creepy shade making noise in the night. More like an avenging warrior. Death was promised in those beady black eyes.
And under that fearsome gaze, all Ametta wanted to do was take back what she had said to Lucky.
The dining room door cracked and then exploded as a Kodiak charged into the room. Lucky roared and pushed the table over on its side.
The furious spirit turned his head to look at him and disappeared.
Ametta squirmed to right herself and took in deep gulps of air. Glass and wood crunched beneath her, but none were sharp enough to penetrate her thick hide.
It happened so fast. All in less than a minute. Weren’t domovois supposed to be good spirits?
Lucky brushed aside the debris and nuzzled the top of her head. He nudged her away from the broken cabinet and shifted into his human form. “Jesus, Mett. Are you okay? What happened?”
If he hadn’t been there, or if the domovoi didn’t stop his attack, Ametta might have died. She’d gone from not believing in ghosts to having one try to kill her.
Exchanging her stained fur for soaked flesh, Ametta wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed her eyes shut lest her tears escape. His warmth and strength encompassed her. “Not all my dreams lie elsewhere.”
He kissed the top of her head and held her against him as he led her from the ravaged room. “I know, babe.”
The fish was quite good for a tiny restaurant in an even tinier town. Excellent, in fact, but Ametta had no appetite. It had been crushed along with that antique wine cabinet. Yet time and space away from the house had given her strength in her new decision to stay.
Her flip-flopping emotions surprised her. She wasn’t one of those people who couldn’t make up their mind on things. A person couldn’t run a business if they couldn’t make decisions. Her focus and determination had made her successful. She wanted to work on a Cremaschi house. And maybe spending time with Lucky motivated her a little.
“I changed my mind. I’m not leaving. I’m doing the reno.” Ametta folded her arms and looked out toward the water through the huge picture window. Choppy waves crashed against the shore, but the noise seemed miles away.
“Grandfather tried to kill you.” Lucky shook his head and stuffed another bite of fish into his mouth. Once he swallowed, he continued, “He has never harmed anyone. Ever. It doesn’t make sense. He saved my life once, you know.”
“Yes, you told me.” Twice now. Lucky had been a toddler and fallen down the cellar stairs. The domovoi caught him before he could bash his head on the concrete floor. Except his life wasn’t in danger now. And if the spirit thought heartbreak equated death, then he was insane. “I will not be frightened away.”
“There’s a big difference between scaring someone and murder. You run away from someone trying to kill you.” He eyed her plate as he finished off his meal.
Ametta pushed her dish toward him. “I was attempting to make peace earlier today before we… our discussion got out of hand.”
“Discussion.” Lucky snorted and tugged her plate the rest of the way to him. “We fought, babe. My ego was wounded, and I’m sorry I got a little hotheaded.”
And their other chat didn’t go so well either. But a peace hummed between them now. Pleasant and comforting.
Couples occupied two other tables at the seafood restaurant. They glanced at Lucky when he snorted but went back to their meals. The waiter was nowhere in sight. Not that Ametta needed another drink. The alcohol already made her feel lightheaded.
“Okay, we fought. I’m sorry, too, for not coming to you during the night. We can figure this out together. We’re friends—”
“We’re dating.” He interjected before digging into her fish.
She held up a hand. “Any which way, we’re going to go back. We’re going to clean up the mess together. We’re going to laugh and be happy, so we’ll hopefully have a peaceful house tonight.”
Lucky sipped his beer. “You’re not sleeping on your own.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he shook his head. “Uh-uh. I’m not leaving you alone. I won’t take that chance. If you won’t sleep in my room, I’m just going to pull up a chair in yours and stay right there.”
“Stubborn.” She huffed.
“That’s something you know all about, babe.” He winked and continued to eat.
Ametta didn’t need to argue with him any more about it. He had his heels dug in and wasn’t moving. And no matter her bravado, a little part of her felt relief that she didn’t have to face the night alone. “All right. We’ll share a bed. You’re wearing pants, though.”
&nb
sp; “No need for you to do so.” His wolfish grin made her shake her head and sent hot little tingles through her body.
With dinner finished, they picked up a few things from the lone grocery store and went back to the house. Ametta expected the door wouldn’t even open for her, but it creaked and silence met them. Lucky flicked on the lights and led the way to the kitchen.
She glanced out the French doors into the dark yard as she passed. The lone elk stood in the middle, eyes on the house. On her? No. It probably just saw the lights turned on.
“When we do the reno, we should get your backyard fence fixed too. The wildlife look like they know they can come eat your garden.” Ametta’s heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she stripped off her coat in the kitchen.
“The fence is fine.” He paused to peer out a window. “Well, hell. He must have jumped the fence. Probably can’t get back out.”
“I saw him there last night too. Lots of elk on the island?” She draped her coat over a chair and gripped the back of it as her eyes darted toward the dining room. The mess remained and not a peep from Grandfather.
“Yeah, caribou and deer too. That’s the main reason I put up the fence.” Lucky set the groceries down and motioned to the yard. “I’m going to go out and open the gate. Maybe the poor guy can’t get back out again.” He paused and shook his head. “He’s fine for the night, though. Safer for a lone buck than out there with the wolves.”
“Safer with the bears, you mean?” She smirked, relaxing her shoulders which had suddenly gone tense when he mentioned going outside.
“Hey, we’re friendly bears. I’ll put this stuff away, and then we’ll clean up.”
A few minutes later, they had two brooms and were sweeping all the broken bits into a single pile. The table was righted, and Ametta gathered her papers as Lucky mopped up the wine. Her laptop had survived the fall, but the wall would need patching. Easy to do when a reno was going on.
She listened to him tell a story about the first time he stole some wine from the cabinet to impress a girl. He’d been fourteen, and she was sixteen. A big score for a teenage boy, so he had to make a mature impression. The girl had passed out, and he’d gotten sick and grounded for a month.
Shattered Spirit (Totem Book 4) Page 4
