A Viking Ghost for Valentine's Day (Gambling Ghosts Series Book 2)

by Jo-Ann Carson

  Eric looked away for a moment as if he considered not answering her question. “Many spirits stay near their death spots or haunt specific locations for reasons of their own. Others, like me, roam. I suspect he roams in search of power.”

  “Power? Why does he need power?”

  “His dark energy needs fuel. I’ve heard of one who uses ancient, demon magic to satiate his appetite.”

  “Demon? You’re telling me he’s part demon.”

  “Ja, possibly. Demons have many ways to suck on the essence of humanity, and working through poltergeists is one of them. There is an old story about a poltergeist called Louis Lamentain who visits this town every five years. He is a local legend. I suspect your poltergeist is him.”

  “Louis Lamentain?”

  “If rumors are to be believed, he uses demonic powers to feed on children. They are the purest form of energy. Once fed, he moves on, only to return when his energy lags.”

  “And no one stops him?”

  “You saw him. He’s difficult to stop and impossible to capture. Like I said, once he’s fed, he disappears. He comes and goes quickly and no one knows where he goes, which makes it difficult to stop him.”

  “He’s hurting innocent children. Doesn’t that offend you and your friends? Do you have no humanity left? No moral code?”

  “Yes we care, but one thing you learn when you live as long as we have is that you can’t fix all the wrongs in the world.”

  “This is a pretty big one.”

  Eric looked towards the door. “I will stay and watch over your family tonight. That I can do.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “If you were any other woman, I would tell you to pack up and leave.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  Despite the anger and fear burning inside her, Abby felt a smile on her lips. “Can we get rid of Louis permanently?”

  “Telling him to leave worked tonight. You are a brave and bold woman. But, I’m not sure it will work a second time, as he will be prepared for it.”

  “We have to find a way to stop him. Permanently.”

  “I wish you would let me make you tea.”

  Abby got up. “All right, I’ll drink tea, but I’m coming with you to help make it.” They walked into the kitchen. The irony that she was entertaining a ghost in the middle of the night was not lost on her. “I don’t suppose you drink tea?”

  “Nej, but I will enjoy watching you drink it.” He made a motion with his hands and the kettle filled with water. “Azalea being a medium, might know more about Louis than I do.”

  “I’ll ask her tomorrow. And I’ll do a search on the Internet for information on Louis Lamentain. Will you ask the other ghosts what they know?”

  He nodded. “Don’t get your hopes up there. No one wants to deal with a poltergeist. They can do unspeakable things to benevolent ghosts like us.”

  Abby watched him make her tea. A Norse god in her kitchen!

  Eric placed the tea pot on the kitchen table and brought her a cup and saucer. “I think a stiff drink might do you more good.”

  Abby nodded. “There are many children in town. Why did he come to my home?”

  He tilted his head as he poured her tea.

  Silence filled the room.

  “Eric?”

  “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “Hell, yeah. I don’t care how bad the news is, I want it straight up. I have to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “Louis works through other people. I suspect he has someone looking for vulnerable children.”

  Abby gasped. The puzzle pieces slid into place. Her kids were vulnerable, because they only had her. Oh fudge. It wasn’t fair. She swallowed, but the pain of the realization wouldn’t stay down. “Got it.”

  His scent—all manly-man, mixed with wood fire—became stronger. “I know you’re doing the best you can, but sometimes we all need help.”

  “What do you suggest?” Lifting the tea cup to her mouth, she noticed her hand trembling.

  “Let me help.”

  What would she tell the kids? Hey, kiddos, we have new babysitter and by the way he’s a ghost. This was all too bizarre. After a second she answered him. “I can’t see how that could work. You’re a ghost.”

  “True, but I am your ghost and I will do everything I can to protect you and your family.” The warmth of his smile heated the entire room.

  “You’ll watch over us.”

  He nodded. “Louis won’t come back tonight, and if he does, I’ll deal with him. Tomorrow you can manage on your own during the day, but you should bring the kids to work with you in the evening.”

  Would she lose her job if she took her kids to work? Even if Azalea agreed to it, would she get anything done? Cleaning a haunted house was difficult enough with its dirty, creaky floors and blood-curdling screams, without adding little kids and … the undeniable chemistry between her and Eric. Her life was getting more than complicated.

  One thing she knew for sure: the poltergeist had to be stopped.

  12

  Zane's Nightmare

  ZANE TAPPED A PEN ON THE DESK at the Sunset Cove police station. What the hell could he do? He had spent his whole career protecting people, and now he was delivering three innocent children to a demonic poltergeist. Great Mountie he turned out to be. Wishing his pen were a bat and the desk the heart of the unholy beast, he tapped harder.

  His boss, Molly Enright, strode into his office. “Got nothing better to do than tap your pen?”

  He looked her in the eye. If she knew what an asshole he was, she would shoot him on the spot. For that matter, the whole office would. The whole community. No one would ever forgive him for this. Hell, he would never forgive himself for this. Ever.

  But he had to protect Rebecca.

  “Just collecting my thoughts,” he said.

  “I didn’t know you had any.”

  The lighthearted jab was all part of the regular office banter, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of a suitable barb to volley back at her, so he put his hands up. “You got me.”

  Molly crossed over to his desk and leaned towards him. In her mid-forties, she was a well-respected, seasoned officer. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a conservative bun, revealing high cheekbones and a thin mouth. She gave him her narrowed-eye cop stare, which had been known to break the hardest of criminals. It cut him like a laser in the dark. “You okay?”

  “Hell no. I’m a police officer.” That was the best he had. Pitiful, really.

  “Uh-huh.” Her eyes roved over his face as if his secret could be mined in his features. Suspicion was her middle name, and she was a damn fine detective as a result. “You haven’t been yourself for a week. If the circles under your eyes get any bigger you’ll lose your nose.” She leaned back and snickered. “Though, that might be an improvement.”

  Zane shrugged. She could say whatever she wanted. Nothing could hurt him now. Nothing could be worse than what was happening to his family.

  “Zane, seriously, home trouble? I heard Suzie went to stay with her mother.”

  His jaw tightened. How she knew his wife had left was a puzzle. But Molly was one hell of a detective. He stopped himself from shrugging again. He needed to de-escalate the situation, throw her curiosity in another direction. Molly would never give up on a mystery until she solved it. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Family shit. Private, family shit.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Well, if you ever want to talk about it.”

  He laughed in a teasing way. “Are you thinking of starting a new career as a shrink?”

  “Just trying to be a friend.” Her eyes narrowed again.

  Her cell phone rang and she nodded his way. After finishing a text message, she turned her attention back to him. “Gotta go. But this—” She pointed at him and then herself— “isn’t over. I know something’s going down. I can smell it.”

  Demons do
smell like shit. Zane gave her as warm a smile as he could manage. Friends. When she had left his office, he checked his own cell phone. No news. No damn news! If things had gone according to plan, the poltergeist should be feasting on the children by now and his daughter should be free. But she wasn’t. Had he devoured all of them? Stone-cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

  Who makes a pact with a demon and expects him to hold up his end of the bargain? You’re an idiot Zane … a stupid effin’ idiot. With no integrity. No honor. The worst of cowards.

  And his soul?

  He hung his head back and he stared at the ceiling. He had gone over this a million times. He had had no choice. Louis made that clear.

  No one could help him. Louis had his daughter. He swallowed. There was nothing he could do … but sell his soul and make a deal to save hers.

  Zane broke the pen in his hand. If he could figure out where the monster took Rebecca, maybe he could rescue her.

  And beat the evil spirit with his gun? A tear escaped his eye and he swiped at it. The last thing he needed was for anyone to see his pain. He groaned.

  Zane really didn’t care how he looked to others. He had gone far beyond that, into a world of self-loathing so dark he could never have imagined it existed, before he met Louis.

  Never had he felt so hollow.

  But he did have a plan. Once Rebecca was safe, he would kill himself. He would have to do it in such a way that it looked accidental so his family would get his life insurance, but one way or another, he had to go. He could never live with the knowledge that he had destroyed the lives of three innocent children.

  A tune played on his cell phone sitting on his desk. He picked it up. The hourly picture of Rebecca was displayed. Underneath it Louis wrote: “I own you.”

  Yeah, yeah. Like he could forget.

  The phone vibrated. The call came from an unknown source, but he knew who it would be.

  “Constable Reynolds?” Louis’s cold voice was unmistakable.

  “Yes.”

  “I couldn’t get the children.” In a staccato, disjointed rhythm the spirit spoke to him. “The mother has a Viking ghost protecting her.”

  A Viking ghost? What the hell. If anyone had told him any of this supernatural crap existed a week ago, he would have thought they were crazy. Poltergeists, demonic spells, possession and now a Viking? The sound of his daughter screaming in pain in the background came through his phone.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Capture the children for me and take them to your house.”

  13

  Tea with Azalea

  WHEN ABBY ENTERED THE TEAHOUSE at noon the following day, Azalea stood beside the reservations desk. She acknowledged her with a nod. The natural light streaming through the large picture windows made the teahouse shine. Abby felt proud of her work. Without the night shadows and the laughter of the gambling ghosts the place seemed respectable. Then Lilith brushed the side of her leg and she reconsidered.

  As if in answer, Azalea motioned her forward. “You need to speak to me?”

  “Please. If you have a minute.”

  As the older woman nodded, the pile of white hair in a loose knot on the top of her hair shook. “This way.”

  Abby followed Azalea into Lilith’s room and sat at the table the psychic pointed to. They were alone. The cat followed them in and jumped up on her window seat. She stretched in the sunlight and purred for a quick second, giving Abby the impression she considered herself the true hostess.

  Azalea sat and waited.

  Abby folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry to bother you.” And she was sorry, very sorry. She needed this job more than she had ever needed a job. She didn’t want to bother her boss. Ever. But Louis wanted her kids.

  “I’m a good judge of character,” Azalea said, peering over the tortoise shell glasses. “I know you wouldn’t come to me without just cause. Is it the new detergent I bought? It is quite lemony.” The agate pendant around her neck gleamed in the sunlight.

  Soap? Seriously? “It’s fine.”

  “Good. The last cleaner didn’t like the stuff I had. Said it smelled too flowery. Then he quit.” Her nose twitched. “You aren’t quitting are you?”

  “No. No, ma’am.”

  “What is it then?”

  “I need your help.” Couldn’t the famed medium magically read her mind? Maybe this hocus-pocus stuff was all a joke after all.

  “You didn’t open the third door, did you?” Her eyes narrowed and burrowed into her.

  Abby tilted her head and gave her a feeble smile.

  Azalea frowned and shook her head. “I told you not to.” She leaned back and crossed her arms across her chest. “So you have ghost trouble.”

  “Uh, no, not exactly.”

  “What then?” Azalea squinted.

  “A poltergeist.”

  Azalea’s spine stiffened and she sniffed the air. “In my town?”

  Abby nodded. “I’m afraid so and he …”

  Azalea reached over and covered her hands with hers. Her stormy gray eyes glazed over to a muted seaweed color and she tilted her chin upwards as if the knowledge of the universe poured into her from the ceiling. “Yes, I see him now. You and Dodger and Louis. Wait … Dodger?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn that Louis.”

  “Yes.” May all that is holy damn him.

  Azalea made a low growling sound as she exhaled. “If I may, let me run your memory through my mind. It will be faster.” She closed her eyes and mumbled five or six words. While her skin felt soft and her touch light, an unusual current flew between them as if they were connected.

  Lilith, jumped down from her perch in the window seat and brushed against Abby’s legs. First one way, and then the other, as if she were also conducting a psychic reading. Then she sat back on her feet under the table. Abby opened her mind to both of them as best she could.

  A couple minutes later Azalea looked straight at Abby. “You are a strong woman. I commend you for standing up to a poltergeist, though Goddess knows, you had no choice. Your energy took him by surprise, but your words alone will not be enough to banish him the next time.”

  Ah, hell, that’s what Eric had said. “What do you suggest?”

  Lilith got up, ran back to her window seat and gave one long meow.

  Azalea nodded at the cat and sighed. “I’ll give you thirteen crystals to take home. Put them around the house at entrance points. They will yield some protection.”

  “Crystals.” Shiny rocks. Seriously? How could a piece of rock stop that ghoul?

  “And get a dog.”

  “A dog can’t bite a black spirit.”

  “No, but it can warn you when a spirit approaches and that little bit of time could mean the difference between life and …” She hesitated a moment. “The alternatives.”

  Alternatives? Hell’s bells she wasn’t going to ask about that. “Okay, crystals and a dog. I’ll beg, borrow or steal one if I have to. Anything else?” There had to be something else.

  “Keep Dodger with you as much as you can. And …”

  And? Abby waited for her to finish.

  “Well, you’re not going to like this, but the best way to deal with a poltergeist is to find out what made him go dark in the first place. It takes time to do this kind of research, but knowledge is the key in these matters. If you can find out what happened to him, you could ease his pain, which would diminish his anger and the demon’s control over him.”

  “I can’t Google that.”

  A thin, lopsided smile spread across her face and she snickered. “I have other sources.” She sighed. “But I also have a business to run. I’ll see what I can find out tonight.”

  “If you learn anything, please text me.”

  Azalea nodded, and as Abby rose, she added, “Ghosts don’t make good boyfriends, by the way. Not for humans. I’d be careful with Dodger. I know he’s sexy, but either one, or both of you, will get hurt if y
ou let your relationship develop.”

  “He helped me last night.”

  “Oh, yes, he can be helpful, and he is mighty fine to look at, and charming in a Viking kind of way, but I’m sure you want more from a man than that.”

  Abby could feel heat rising n her cheeks. Of course she did. Any woman who looked at Dodger would, but that wasn’t the sort of thing she talked about. Ever. “We’re just friends.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s fine love. Just don’t go trying any of that G2H magic on him. I’ve lost too many good, ghost-friends that way. Spirits and humans should stick to their own kind, I say. I’m a traditionalist on that.”

  “G2H magic?”

  “Ghost to human.”

  Abby blinked. Her world was becoming crazier by the minute. There was magic that could bring a ghost back to life? No. No, she wasn’t going there. She had enough on her plate. “I really appreciate your help with Louis.”

  Azalea nodded.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I bring my kids to work with me tonight.”

  Azalea waved her hand in the air. “Of course not. I don’t mind at all. The house will protect them.”

  Another chill crawled up Abby’s spine and she found herself looking for the cat, as if she needed her approval as well. That settled it. The house and the damn cat were more than odd. The whole place reeked of supernatural power.

  Lilith stretched and raised her back like a Halloween cat. If Abby was the kind of woman who scared easily, she would be terrified. But she wasn’t, so she was just plain scared, chilled on the rocks, creeped out. Lilith lay back down again and winked. Winked? No, I must be seeing things.

  Azalea touched her hand. “You’ll get used to the house and to everyone who calls it home. It just takes time.”

  Abby sniffed and lifted her chin. “One more question.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Is your name really Azalea?” It had been bugging Abby, since she read the advertisement for her job on-line. Such an odd name.

  The older woman’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, my parents were hippies. My mother told me a beautiful azalea bush was in bloom outside our home the day I came into the world, so they named me after it.”