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Dead Village

Page 12

by Holly Copella


  Tyson punched Harris in the mouth and sent him flying against the pool table. Harris was dazed but quickly moved to avoid Tyson, who came at him with a second swing. He darted around the pool table and held his hands up defensively.

  “I swear, she came on to me,” Harris proclaimed with alarm. “She just freaked for no reason!”

  “You ain’t in the city, rich boy,” Tyson snapped. “That don’t float here!”

  “Let’s just take it easy,” Novak announced and attempted to calm the situation.

  Vander slowly approached Sonya, who still appeared terrified, and lowered himself to one knee before her on the floor. He looked into her eyes and spoke in a soothing tone. “What happened, Sonya?” he asked gently.

  She clung to her body and trembled while looking past him at nothing in particular. “It--it was a ghost,” Sonya gasped. She finally looked at Vander, her eyes wide with fright. “His face was ripped apart, and he was covered in blood.”

  “I told you I didn’t do anything!” Harris lashed out, regaining some confidence.

  Novak looked at Harris and seemed curious. “Did you see this ghost too?”

  Harris fumbled slightly and gently cleared his throat. “I was sort of preoccupied.”

  “Come on,” Tyson said firmly to Sonya. “I’ll take you to your room.” He helped his sister to her feet, grabbed her clothing, and guided her from the room.

  “We need to find this ghost and stop it,” Novak proclaimed with all seriousness.

  “How the hell do you intend to stop a ghost?” Vander demanded.

  Devon couldn’t believe two grown men, federal agents no less, were having this debate. Monica was having no part of it and quickly shared her disapproval with them.

  “There are no ghosts,” Monica launched back with a disgusted groan. “Get a grip, guys!”

  “How do we stop their hallucinations?” Devon gently asked Monica.

  She considered the question then groaned softly. “We need to stay calm and disprove what they’re seeing,” Monica informed her. “The last thing we need is for them to become agitated or aggressive.”

  “So we’re supposed to go ghost hunting with them?” Devon suddenly asked.

  “There’s always plan B,” Monica replied.

  “What’s plan B?”

  “Distract them with a little cleavage.”

  Novak glanced toward the doorway, appeared stunned, and then quickly became agitated. “Son-of-a-bitch! That’s the guy!” He ran past them and out the door.

  “I guess we’re ghost hunting,” Monica said with a sigh then hurried after Novak.

  Devon, Vander, and Ravin ran out of the game room after them. Monica took off after Novak and disappeared into the connecting hallway. Ravin followed them in less of a hurry. Vander took Devon’s arm and immediately pulled her along the hallway toward the elevator.

  “I need to take you somewhere safe,” Vander said firmly while keeping a sturdy grip on her arm. “There’s no telling who that lunatic is or what he’ll do.”

  “Agent Hawk, none of this is real,” she insisted and resisted the urge to pull away. She didn’t want to agitate him further. “You need to calm down and think rationally.”

  Vander stopped her by the elevators and looked around with paranoia. “I am being rational,” he announced. “I’m keeping you safe.”

  The elevator doors opened. Vander turned toward the open elevator as Tyson stepped out.

  Tyson eyed Devon and smiled lustfully. “Were you looking for me, sexy?”

  Vander suddenly pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and aimed it at Tyson. Tyson jumped with surprise and took a step back. Devon gasped with alarm as panic swept through her. Vander’s look was serious and unpredictable, which frightened her. With how he was reacting, she didn’t know if he’d feel justified pulling the trigger on the unarmed man.

  “You just stay the hell away from her,” Vander lashed out then forced Devon into the elevator.

  Tyson was ready to jump in and save her when Devon stopped him.

  “No, Tyson,” she announced quickly, concerned for his safety. “I have this. It’s okay.”

  Vander kept his gun aimed at Tyson and pushed the button. Tyson watched with a look of helplessness as the door closed, allowing Vander to take her away.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Vander hurried Devon into his guestroom and bolted the door behind them. He stared at the door a long, concerning moment while keeping his gun firmly clutched and aimed at the door. His paranoia sent shockwaves through Devon’s entire body. She could feel every emotion within him rippling through her. Devon stared at him with concern. His feelings of fear were overwhelming. She was almost certain he hadn’t been that afraid in all his adult life. Devon had no idea what he would do next, or if he’d pull the trigger at something he thought he saw. He stared at the door for several minutes before finally relaxing and lowering the gun. Vander turned toward her, groaned softly, and pulled her into his arms in a tight embrace. He held her so firmly; it felt like a python squeezing the life from her.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he whispered softly in her ear. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Devon remained motionless in his arms and appeared aware of the gun in his hand as it pressed against her back. She attempted to remain calm, but it was proving difficult.

  “I’d feel better if you’d holster your weapon,” she said softly in a shaken voice.

  Vander pulled away from her with a strange look, glanced at the gun in his hand, and then replaced it to his shoulder holster. He offered a tiny smile and gently touched her face.

  “Is that better?”

  Devon slowly nodded, although she was still concerned with the entire situation. She didn’t know how to relax him, and his current state of mind was frightening to her. He was a ticking time bomb of emotions. Anything at any given moment could set him off. Vander guided her to the nearby bed and kept her close as he sat with her. She hesitantly sat with him in hopes to keep him calm but there were other concerns building up inside her. He again pulled her against him and stared at the door with the same paranoid look. His shoulder holster pressed against her, making her uncomfortable. She didn’t want him to know how frightened she was in fear it would add to his paranoia and possibly increase his need to protect her in an extreme manner. She knew he wasn’t the type to lose his head. She’d gotten that vibe clearly from him on their first meeting, so this was foreign and frightening. If she could keep him calm, she was sure the paranoia would decrease, perhaps even returning him to something resembling his old self.

  “Your gun’s pressing into me,” she said timidly.

  Vander was surprised, grimaced slightly, and removed his shoulder holster. Devon was relieved as he set it on the bed. She wanted his weapon as far from him as possible. There would be less chance of him accidentally shooting someone. He pulled her into his arms and attempted to comfort her. She wished his holding her did comfort her, but it made her less comfortable. Unfortunately, it relaxed him.

  “Sorry--”

  Devon attempted to relax in his arms to keep him calm, but she was worried about sudden mood swings. There was no telling what he might think he saw and what he might do about it when he did. It was strange how Sonya’s hallucination was able to upset the balance of the entire room. Well, everyone except Ravin, who didn’t react either way. It was some sort of mass hysteria brought on by Sonya’s own hallucinations. She wasn’t sure how long he held her there on the bed, but she could feel his emotions coming down from their roller coaster ride. There was only one fear that remained, in her opinion.

  “What happened to us?” Vander asked softly while gently caressing her in his arms. “We used to be so close. Now you seem tense anytime I touch you.” His seriousness was what frightened her most. “I can’t even remember the last time we made love.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Devon softly replied.

  And that was her one concern remaining. She
feared he’d swing the other way, and if she didn’t shut it down, there was potential for his sexual desires to take over.

  “Was it something I did?” he asked gently. “Something I didn’t do?” He suddenly tensed and took a deep, alarmed breath. “Is there someone else?”

  Devon was frightened by the comment and quickly met his serious gaze. “No, of course not,” she quickly announced. She certainly didn’t need him thinking she was cheating on him in their pretend relationship. That could come with dire consequences. “We’ve been under a lot of stress with all that’s happened around here. Surely you understand that.” She hesitated and considered her words carefully. “I’m grateful that you’ve been here for me.”

  Vander looked into her eyes and gently caressed her face. “I’ve missed you.”

  He kissed her warmly but passionately on the lips. Devon immediately tensed with surprise. He broke off the kiss but didn’t move his mouth from hers.

  “Please, Devon, just give me another chance,” he begged softly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Vander resumed kissing her and gently lowered her to the bed, startling her. Devon braced her hands to his chest in an attempt to keep things from escalating. She wasn’t sure what to do. If she protested, would his paranoia return? If she didn’t protest, there was a good chance she’d never get him off her. He had been drugged, and she had to stop him from doing something they’d both regret later. She gently attempted to stop his roaming hands, but he was persistent. His hand firmly caressed her leg and pulled it alongside his hip, allowing him to maneuver his body between her legs. He continued to kiss her warmly despite her lack of reciprocation.

  “Agent Hawk, don’t do this,” she said softly between his loving kisses.

  “Stop calling me that,” he said gently while kissing her warmly.

  His hands continued to caresses her body without hesitation while his hips pressed against her. She gasped slightly from the firm although pleasant sensation. A small part of her wanted to give in to his sexual advances, but she knew that would be wrong.

  “If you ever had any feelings for me, you’d give me one more chance,” he whispered softly between loving kisses. “Whatever I did, I’ll make it up to you. You know I love you.”

  To him, their relationship problems were real, and she felt sorry for what he thought she was doing to him. He warmly kissed her neck and throat while running his hand firmly along her body despite her hands braced against his chest. Images of them making love flooded through her mind like a tidal wave. It was possibly the most powerful premonition she’d ever had. It was meant to happen. She’d foreseen it. She seldom saw visions of the future unless they were incredibly strong. This was strong and resisting it meant nothing.

  Devon groaned softly, shut her eyes, and relaxed her hands against his chest. Vander immediately seized her lack of protest as an invitation, molded his body to hers, and kissed her warmly on the mouth. Devon uncertainly returned the kiss and allowed his hands to caress her entire body. As she surrendered her body to him, a thousand images and thoughts flashed through her mind. There were too many even to keep track. She saw visions of his childhood, things from his past, but mostly things sexual in nature. Her head was swimming in visions she could no longer control. She finally cleared her mind and stopped any psychic energy from making its way in, but it also forced her to concentrate on the here and now. And the here and now was Vander making love to her.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  It was later that night. The few remaining survivors had locked themselves into their rooms for the night in hopes to get a couple hours of sleep. They would need their rest before starting another day of terror and fright. Cody and Trent seemed to be the only ones crazy enough to still be up and about. The two men sat at the lounge bar with glasses of whiskey before them and a mostly empty bottle close by. Both men were intoxicated to the point of incoherence and joked with each other like old friends. Concerns for their safety or the current situation hadn’t occurred to either after their fourth or fifth drink. For Trent, getting drunk was a coping mechanism. All his friends were dead except Harris, so having a few drinks seemed only natural. For Cody, drinking was a way of life. He was rarely ever seen without a drink in his hand.

  “So Sonya’s your daughter?” Trent asked with disbelief then grinned and shook his head.

  Cody smirked and nodded.

  “Wow,” Trent muttered, “she’s totally hot. I don’t think I’d want a hot daughter. I’d go insane the first time she brought a boy home.”

  “Yeah, I was an insane father in the beginning. It’s a natural reaction. I used to beat the boys off with a stick to defend my little girl’s honor,” Cody remarked then chuckled softly and sipped his drink. “Turns out her honor was in question long before I’d had a chance to defend it.”

  “That does it. If I ever have a daughter, I’m sending her to a convent until she’s forty.”

  Cody chuckled then attempted to focus on the clock behind the bar. He groaned with disgust at the time. “It’s late, and I’m wasted,” he announced wearily. “I’m going to bed before I forget where my room is.” He appeared to consider his own comment and glanced around. “I certainly don’t want to pass out down here. May never wake up.”

  “I hear you, man,” Trent muttered. He could barely sit up straight and nearly fell off his stool. “But you did say things have been quiet lately, right?”

  “We haven’t had any deaths inside the hotel since the initial manifestation,” Cody announced. “Just those who attempt to leave seem to fall victim to the evil ghosts.”

  “Ghosts?” Trent asked. “Who said anything about ghosts? Agent Hawk said--”

  “Agent Hawk has seen them too,” Cody informed him sternly. “It just took a while for them to show themselves to him.”

  “Huh? Ghosts?” Trent muttered. “Who’d have thought?” He stood from his barstool and attempted to maintain his balance before releasing the bar. “You tip the bartender. I’ll flag a cab.”

  Both men laughed. Trent stumbled to the doorway while Cody took the comment literally and placed some money on the bar. As Cody stood and turned away from the bar, he witnessed Trent stumbling backwards.

  “Some guys just can’t hold their liquor,” Cody announced while chuckling.

  Trent turned while clutching his bleeding throat. There was a deep gash across his neck bleeding profusely in a waterfall of blood, soaking the entire front of his shirt. Cody was horrified as Trent collapsed to the floor. Cody looked at the doorway, but there was no sign of Trent’s attacker. He clutched the bar to keep from falling and stood frozen while watching the doorway. When it seemed as if the killer had taken off, Cody bolted for the door. He stumbled over the bar stool and both he and the stool fell to the floor with a crash. Cody lie on the floor a moment, dazed, then groaned softly and attempted to move to his feet with some disorientation. As he moved to his hands and knees, a shadow loomed over him. He slowly looked up at the person standing over him. The large knife dripping blood was only inches from his face. Cody gasped with horror.

  †

  Devon slept peacefully in Vander’s guestroom with the covers over her naked body. She slowly woke, although she wasn’t sure why, and looked across the dimly lit room. Vander slept reclined in the nearby chair wearing only his pants. Since his shoulder holster remained at the foot end of the bed, she assumed his reason for being in the chair had to do more with reality setting in than staying awake to protect her. As she silently watched him from where she lie, she had mixed feelings about what had happened between them just a few hours earlier. She didn’t doubt he was already blaming himself, and making a big deal about it would just make things worse for both of them. If anyone was to blame, it was Monica. She was, after all, the one who planted the evil seed in Devon’s mind. Conceiting to his sexual advances seemed the best way to curb his paranoia, and Monica had been right. Devon just wondered if the cost hadn’t been too high. She didn’t share Monica’s
relaxed views on sexual relationships. All she wanted to do now was avoid any and all conversation involving their romp. Pretending it didn’t happen sounded appealing.

  She silently leaned across the bed and grabbed Vander’s discarded shirt, being the closest article of clothing she could find. She hastily slipped into his shirt. As she buttoned the shirt, his eyes opened. She glanced at him as he shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

  “Can’t you sleep?” she asked softly while buttoning the shirt with trembling hands.

  He took a deep, shaken breath and sat forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “No, not really. I’ve been trying to rationalize what happened earlier,” Vander said timidly and attempted to make eye contact. “How sorry I am can’t begin to describe what I’m feeling.”

  She snorted a soft laugh while avoiding looking at him. “Yeah, you were a persistent little bastard,” she teasingly remarked and climbed out of the bed.

  “That was more than persistence,” he said gently with a guilty look on his face. “I forced myself on you.”

  Despite her unwillingness to discuss what happened, she cast a glare at him. “Trust me, if you had forced yourself on me, I’d be handing you your privates in one of those zip lock baggies,” she remarked casually.

  “You aren’t just saying that to make me feel better, are you? Because I remember a lot of protesting,” he remarked while staring at her, possibly attempting to gauge her reaction.

  She sighed deeply, folded her arms insecurely across her chest, and studied him. “No, I’m not just saying that. Everyone in this hotel had been drugged. You weren’t responsible for your actions, but I was in control of mine,” she informed him and straightened proudly. “I’m not mad at you. It wasn’t your fault, and you don’t need to apologize.”

  “When a woman tells a man he doesn’t need to apologize, that usually means he needs to apologize.”

  “If I accept your apology, can we drop it?”

 

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