“Allison.” He stepped between her and the spirit.
“She’s fine. She blocked it with her arm.” Trent helped her to her feet, and she poured another ring of salt around them.
“Get back inside the circle, Logan.” Allison held out her hand to him. “She’s too strong.”
He shifted his gaze to the spirit. Longing and sadness radiated from her form, and fresh tears streamed down her face as she sobbed. “I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Logan, she can hurt you out there.” Allison’s voice was insistent. The connection he forged with her still held strong, and he could feel her fear. Her need to have him by her side.
But right now, Lily needed him more.
And if she wouldn’t listen to Logan, maybe she would listen to Alex.
“Don’t be sorry, Lily. I’m the one who should apologize.” He stepped toward the spirit.
“Alex?” She wiped the bloody tears from her face.
“Logan, what are you doing?” Allison’s fear tipped toward panic.
“Trust me,” he whispered, and he opened himself up to her even more, willing her to understand his plan.
She clamped her mouth shut and nodded.
He turned back to the spirit. “I’m sorry, Lily. Can you ever forgive me?”
Her lower lip trembled. “But all those women.”
“They meant nothing to me. You’re the only one I want.”
“Oh, Alex. I love you.” She threw herself toward him, and he reached out his arms to catch her. But her essence passed through his body, grating against his senses, lighting his nerves on fire.
He shuddered, inhaling sharply, and turned to face her. “I love you too, Lily.”
The spirit looked at her hands. “Why can’t I touch you?” She reached for his arm, but her energy passed through him.
“It’s time for you to move on. We made this portal just for you. Step inside, and you’ll be free.”
The spirit looked at the portal and then at Logan. He held out his hand, and she hovered hers above it. “Are you coming with me?”
“It’s not my time yet, but I’ll be there soon.”
Her gaze cut between him and the portal as if she was unsure what to do. This spirit wasn’t evil. She didn’t need to be forced out of his house. All she needed was to be loved.
“Go ahead. It’s what I want you to do.”
She looked at him, her gaze traveling down his body and back up again, and whispered, “I love you, Alex.” And she stepped into the light.
* * *
Allison exhaled a slow breath as the weight in the room lifted, Lily’s unyielding sadness and desperation disintegrating as her energy transcended. Her gaze locked with Logan’s, and she smiled.
He sauntered toward her and wrapped his arms around her, grinning at their friends. “She’s gone. You can relax now.”
“Oh, my God.” Tina melted into Trent’s arms.
“That was awesome!” Trent said. “Allison, that was incredible. And Logan, I thought the ghost was going to take you with her for a minute there.”
Allison brushed the hair away from her face and wrapped her arms around Logan’s waist.
He squeezed her tighter. “I’m sorry I broke the circle again. But when she reared back to throw that vase…It was instinct. I had to protect you.”
“It’s okay. You did it. You got rid of the ghost.”
“We got rid of the ghost. Together.”
She couldn’t fight the smile tugging her lips. Though Logan’s method was unconventional, they’d done it. They’d faced the spirit together and won. Her heart raced with excitement, and tears of relief streamed down her cheeks.
Logan lifted her chin and wiped them away with his thumb. “We need to take care of your arm. You’re still bleeding.” He lifted her hand to examine the cut and shifted his gaze to the shattered vase on the floor. “And clean up this mess.”
“It’s nothing a Band-Aid won’t fix.”
Trent darted down the stairs and returned with a broom and dust pan and swept up the salt and broken glass.
Tina gave her a hug. “The ghost is really gone? You’re safe now?”
Allison nodded as Tina’s gaze followed Trent back down the stairs.
“In that case, Trent and I will be going. You two probably have some celebrating to do.” She hugged Logan. “Take good care of each other.”
He caught Allison’s gaze and smiled. “We will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Come here, woman.” Logan swept Allison off her feet, his heart pounding with anticipation as he carried her across the thick burgundy rug lining the hallway. “How’s your arm?”
She ran her finger across the bandage. “All better.”
“Good.” He pushed open the bedroom door and lowered her to her feet. The psychic connection they shared before had been severed, but he could still feel her excitement as she pressed her body to his.
“I’ve never been in your bedroom before. It’s nice.” Her gaze never left his as she spoke, her hands sliding up underneath his shirt to caress his chest. “Have I told you how much I love your body?”
Her fingers slipped into the waistband of his jeans, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned it.”
“Well, then…Maybe I should show you how much I love it. How much I love you.” She lifted his shirt over his head and folded it neatly before putting it on the dresser. He looked at the shirt and raised an eyebrow at her.
“I don’t want you to be distracted by a mess on your floor. Because right now, you are all mine.” She popped open the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper, letting his pants fall to the floor. He stepped out of his jeans and snatched them up before she could grab them. “I’ll take care of these.”
She grinned as he folded the garment and laid it next to his shirt. Then she went for his underwear.
“Mmm…that’s much better.” She ran her hands up his chest and pushed him to the bed. Then she took off her own clothes and stacked them next to his. There was something about the way she folded those clothes, standing there naked. Good lord, she was sexy.
She slinked toward him, slipping into his arms, pressing her body to his. “Can you make that connection again? The way you did earlier? I’ll help you.”
He sucked in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. The feel of her body pressed to his was almost unbearable; he needed her so badly. But he tried. He imagined the bubble around the two of them, and he filled the bubble with warm light. Then he felt her reach out and complete the connection, the vibrating energy forming a psychic link between them.
He opened his eyes and drank her in. She was part of him, her own energy swirling through his until he couldn’t tell where his consciousness ended and hers began.
Laying her on the bed, he climbed on top of her, running his hands down her sensuous curves. He felt her, feeling his touch. As if they were one being, every sensation of pleasure he provided her became his own.
He made love to her, feeling her pleasurable ache as he filled her completely. The burst of electricity shooting to her womb as he moved inside her.
Body to body, mouth to mouth, they moved in unison, the smoothness of their rhythm penetrating every nerve, setting his soul ablaze. She moaned softly, the vibration of her voice rolling through him as if it were his own. He gave himself to her, complete and utter devotion, and, as her mutual emotions swirled into his consciousness, he lost control. They climaxed together, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing through their bodies, and he felt it all. Her orgasm and his own.
Breathless, he collapsed on top of her and took her mouth in a tender kiss. He slid onto his side, their legs in a tangle, and pulled her into his arms. “Allison, that was…”
“Incredible.” She rested her hand on his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb.
“That doesn’t even begin to describe what we just did. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met.”
They lay in
each other’s arms, their psychic link still buzzing between them. He felt her love and contentment and knew she felt his too.
“Do you have any plans for next weekend, Allison?”
“I was planning to be with you.” She traced the outline of his mouth with her finger then placed a soft kiss on his lips.
“Will you go to New York with me? My sister called, and she wants me to bring you out to meet the family.”
“I would love to meet your family.” Her eyes brightened, a spark of joy emanating from her chest.
“And, if you don’t mind, Lisa wants to steal you away for a few hours of shopping with my mom. Girl bonding time, she said.”
“That sounds like fun. But what will you do while I’m gone?”
He exhaled sharply. “I’m going to talk to my dad.”
She pulled him into a tight embrace. “You won’t regret it.”
“I know.” God, he loved this woman. She made him a better man, and he needed to make her his forever. And it needed to happen now. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“Allison, you know how you said we could talk about selling my house after we cleared out the ghost?”
“I don’t understand why you want to sell it. It’s a great house.”
“It is a great house, and I like living here.”
Gathering the sheets into her lap, she moved to lean against the headboard. “So why not stay if you’re happy here?”
“Do you think you could be happy here?”
“Could I be happy living here?”
He nodded.
A soft smile tugged at her lips. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“No. Absolutely not.” He shot to his feet and rummaged through his pants pocket. “That wouldn’t be good enough.”
Climbing into bed, he snuggled next to her, wrapping his arm around her. With his other hand, he offered her a black velvet box. “Allison, will you marry me?”
Her breath hitched as she reached a trembling hand toward the box. He flipped it open and pulled out a sparkling diamond ring.
“Oh, Logan.”
His heart pounded as he slipped it on her finger. “What do you think?”
“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you.” She took his face in her hands and showered him with kisses, elation and love pouring off of her, swirling with his own happiness to create the most magical sensation he’d ever felt.
Allison knew him better than anyone. His strengths and his weaknesses—and he had more than his fair share of those. Yet here she was, loving him in spite of them all. Or maybe because of them all. He was the luckiest man alive.
He stroked his fingers down her cheek and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you can put up with me? I’ve got issues.”
She grinned. “I’m sure I can keep you in line.”
“You think so?”
She climbed into his lap and pushed him to the bed. “Oh, I know so.”
“Woman, I’m going to love watching you try.”
Keep reading for a sneak peek at To Stop a Shadow, Spirit Chasers Book Two!
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***Then, come back here and turn the page for a sneak peek at To Stop a Shadow, Tina and Trent’s story in the Spirit Chasers series.***
Read a sneak peek of
TO STOP A SHADOW
SPIRIT CHASERS BOOK TWO
Snow crunched under Trent Austin’s black dress shoes, the cutting February wind stinging his eyes, as he made his way to the front steps of the 1889 Victorian home. Peeling paint, once bright green, littered the half-rotten porch in a dingy, lead-filled mess. He exhaled a curse and took a step back to examine his new burden.
The grimy-gray gingerbread trim framing the door and every window probably used to be white. Arches of the same curling pattern accented the top of the porch and the eave. The three-story structure could have been quaint and inviting in its prime. Now it sat vacant and crumbling near the back of the property, rows of hedges and willow trees obscuring it from the street. The isolation of the house and the darkening sky above made it appear more like a scene from a horror movie than the lush, Victorian mansion it once was.
Trent ascended the stairs, stepping lightly on the creaky wood panels to avoid putting a foot through the floor. He slid the key into the lock and twisted the knob. The hinges creaked as the door swung open, the knob pulling from his hand as if someone on the other side yanked it from his grasp. Definitely like a horror film.
He peered inside. Hollow darkness greeted him. Haunting. A shiver ran down his spine, and it wasn’t from the chilling winter air whispering through the trees.
The whole scene creeped him out.
His great-uncle, Jack Austin, had died in the living room two weeks earlier, and his will had granted the house to Trent. He’d only met the man a handful of times, and the hostility he’d felt from his uncle made those few encounters more than enough. The man was off. Perpetually mad at the world. Insanity didn’t run in the family, but Uncle Jack could have been an exception.
And judging from the ghoulish condition of his house, disturbed seemed like an appropriate description of Jack. Trent had always thought his great-uncle menacing. The unnatural silence engulfing the home only intensified the feeling.
He hesitated at the threshold, almost afraid to cross it. What if Jack’s spirit still lingered inside? What if the basement was full of bodies, and their spirits were crouching in the shadows, waiting to attack?
If someone had asked him if he believed in ghosts four months ago, he would have laughed. He’d never given the idea much thought until he encountered one himself. Now, not only did he believe in ghosts, but he also believed in the power they could exert over the living. The way spirits could control people. Destroy their lives. He’d seen it firsthand. And if his uncle had left him the house so he could haunt him…
Get a grip, man. Don’t be an ass.
He stepped one foot into the foyer and held his breath. He reluctantly pulled the other foot in and flipped on the light switch before he exhaled. The stale, musty scent of mold and dust made his stomach turn. The place would have to be aired out before anyone would consider buying it. The smell of death—or what he imagined death would smell like—still lingered in the air. He shuddered.
He hung his coat on the rack to his left. The dark, cherry wood stand reached nearly six feet high and had intricately carved, claw-like feet with talons that looked like they could slice open a whale. Not the most inviting piece to welcome guests into a home. Then again, Uncle Jack didn’t seem like the type of man who’d have many visitors.
Immediately to the right lay the living room. Blood-red upholstered furniture stood on clawed feet that almost matched the sinister-looking coat rack. The whole room had an eerie feel to it. Of course, that was probably because all the drapes were drawn. Hanging from tarnished brass rods, the heavy, dust-filled, crimson curtains appeared to be velvet and had dirty, gold tassels that brushed the hardwood floor.
The dark, papered walls and cherry wood enhanced the gloomy aesthetic of the space, making it look more like a chamber from Dracula’s crypt than an old man’s living room.
“A little light ought to cheer this place up. Maybe.”
Before he could take a step toward the window, an icy breath on the back of his neck stopped him cold. His stomach tightened as the first tendrils of dread crawled up his spine, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This house is old. It’s just a draft. He opened his eyes and moved forward. A frigid hand grasped his shoulder.
He froze, his breath stopping mid-inhale, his heart rate speeding into a sprint. It was his imagination. It had to be. He’d let his mind run wild since his encounter with the ghost in his friend Logan’s house three months ago, but he had to control it now. He would not lose his shit in this dilapidated mansion. “Leave me alone.” His voice cam
e out much steadier than he anticipated, and he straightened his spine, relaxing his shoulders.
The hand lifted. The cold breath dissipated. Was it gone?
Yeah, right. He had to turn around. Had to face whatever it was that didn’t want him opening the windows. He held his breath; every muscle in his body tensed as he slowly pivoted, ready to bolt at the first sign of a spirit. His eyes widened as he found himself face to face with the coat rack.
He shook his head. Paranoid idiot.
“Hey, buddy. I don’t suppose that was you breathing down my neck?” He chuckled. “Nah. You’re just a block of wood, aren’t you?” He patted the bulbous top of the stand.
Ever since he’d helped Logan vanquish the ghost from his house, he’d had the disturbing feeling he was being watched. Like he’d opened himself up to spirits, and they were slowly creeping into his life, waiting for the right moment to scare him to death.
Not that he’d encountered one since then, but something deep in his gut warned him that his run-ins with spirits were far from over. Especially now that his best friend was engaged to a psychic medium.
Satisfied the icy breath was nothing more than a draft, he took half a step toward the window. Before he could plant his foot, the coat rack fell—no, flew—into his shoulder, missing the side of his head by mere inches. The stand skidded across the wood floor and landed five feet away.
Trent turned on his heel and sprinted out the door. There was no way in hell he was sticking around to see what had pushed that coat rack. Whatever it was, it didn’t want him going near the window.
He jumped into his car and slammed the door. Once he pulled onto the road, his erratic breathing finally slowed. There had to be a logical explanation. It wasn’t a ghost. The house was old and drafty. The floor was uneven. The coat rack had fallen over…like the door had swung open on its own.
To Catch a Spirit (Spirit Chasers Book 1) Page 27
