Midlife Ghost Hunter: A Paranormal Women's Fiction (The Forty Proof Series Book 4)

by Shannon Mayer

  I didn’t know if I dared to go forward and check on them. I was out of weapons, out of strength, and limping worse with each step. I swallowed hard. “Jinx, you around?”

  She did not answer me.

  A ghost did.

  Three of them to be exact.

  They floated toward me, dressed in clothing that suggested they’d died in the mid-eighteen hundreds if I were to guess.

  “You drove the necromancer away. Protected us.” The first, an elderly bald man, stopped right in front of me.

  The middle ghost, a woman in a big hoop skirt, bobbed her head as she curtsied. “You stopped him for now. Well done, and with our apologies, you are welcome here.”

  I clutched a hand around my middle. “Yeah, I just need to make sure he’s—” Dead? Gone? I wasn’t sure which would be better.

  The third ghost, smaller than the other two, looked as if he’d died in his early teens. He had on short pants and shoes with giant buckles on them. “The necromancer is gone, but he is not dead. He will come for you again. You surprised him. Do not think to have that opportunity a second time.”

  And without another word the three ghosts faded.

  “Great,” I muttered, then drew a slow breath and tried again. “Jinx?”

  There was a scuttling behind one of the tombstones, and she peeked up over the top of it. Once more a giant spider, she shook an appendage at me.

  “You better run. They aren’t done with you.”

  I twisted around and glanced toward the hole that Clovis and Louis had fallen into. I forced myself to limp over to it.

  My adrenaline spiked as I peered over the edge, but it was a waste. No one in there.

  “They’re gone,” I said, a sigh of relief escaping me. Charlotte had been found, I was pretty sure I knew exactly where Gran was hiding out, and Jacob had promised to clear my name.

  The day was turning out better than I could have hoped. Sure, Missy had my gran’s spell book, sure I was beat to hell and back, but . . . I paused in my musings. Something tugged at my ears, a sound I couldn’t identify.

  “Jinx,” I said. “What is that noise?”

  “I told you to run!” she yelped and then she scuttled away.

  I turned slowly, the noise sinking into my head. Feet, lots and lots of feet on the pavement?

  Only it wasn’t just feet.

  It was the tonton macoutes’ dragging, shuffling feet.

  “Duck me.” And no, I didn’t say duck, most definitely not.

  All around me bodies shuffled my way, and maybe on a good day I could have dodged them. I could have used those muscles I’d been slowly building back and beat a fast retreat.

  But not with my ankle mauled by a damn alligator. Not with both of my knives gone.

  I hobbled deeper into the cemetery, using the above ground tombstones and mini-mausoleums as hand holds to keep moving. “Jinx, find Crash, at least! I thought you said he was here!”

  “I said we were going through here to get to him!”

  If there ever was a time I needed rescuing, this was it.

  I took a sharp left and my ankle gave out, sending me to my hands and knees. “Seriously?” I yelled at no one in particular. The smell of the voodoo shitheads was all around me, that dirty socks and smoke scent jamming its way up my nose.

  I pushed to my feet as a series of hands clamped onto me, lifting me overhead. “Let me go!” I yelped as I struggled against their hold. I was going to die. Just like Gran, just like my mom and dad.

  The hand on my busted up ankle twisted, and I screamed as a bolt of pain tore through me.

  Suzy had said she’d follow me. Where was she?

  For the first time, I was truly afraid. I was alone in this. No one was coming to save me. I would have to get myself out of this on my own, or I was going to die.

  The hands were pulling me in four directions, as if testing the limits of my joints. I pulled back, knowing they’d straight up tear my limbs off if I didn’t put up any resistance.

  Tears trickled down my cheeks. This was not how I wanted to go out.

  Holding myself together as best as I could, I tried to find that spark of magic in me. These things were dead . . . could I maybe control them?

  “Let me go! Go and do no harm!” I snapped, pouring my last energy into the words. A laugh answered me.

  “Oh, girl, it don’t work like that. Sentinel you might be, but I’m a voodoo queen, and even I couldn’t stop him from taking my pets,” Marge’s voice floated out of the mouth of the undead person next to me. She might not have been there in physical form, but she was watching.

  “Marge, let me go!” I yelled.

  “Oh, this isn’t my doing. The necro took over my army—paid me to borrow them. Looks like he did the same to my gran too, all those years ago. I can’t stop them now, not until the time limit is up,” she said, and I thought perhaps I detected sorrow in her voice. “Best bet is that they’ll take you to him, and kill you later. But I’d bet you pissed him off enough that he’s just going to kill you. Sorry, kid. This is how the cookie crumbles sometimes. It was nice knowing you.”

  Another pull on my limbs, and I was sure there were tendons and ligaments popping.

  I pulled hard against the hands with what little strength I had left, yanking all the critters toward me. “GAH! Damn you!”

  A sudden howl cut through the air as if in response to my scream.

  It couldn’t be. He’d left with Corb.

  “SARGE! I’m over here!” I screamed for the werewolf, praying I wasn’t hearing things.

  “We’re coming!” Suzy yelled. “Hang on!”

  A buzzing filled the air, and suddenly Kinkly swooped in, a tiny sword in her hand that she plunged into the eye of the voodoo critter that held my left arm in a vise grip. “We got you, Bree!”

  Tears slid down my face. I shouldn’t have been crying, I should have been fighting. I should have been helping my friends as they swept in and drove the tonton macoutes army off.

  I crumpled where I was, my body broken and done. But my heart . . .my heart was overflowing. Never in my life had anyone truly looked out for me besides Gran. I’d always been the one my friends looked to for help and rescue. The one who took care of Alan.

  No one had rescued me.

  Not ever.

  And yet here I was, lying useless on the ground while my friends—my family—came to my rescue. For once, I didn’t have to be the strong one.

  I stared as they cleared the area around me. But one man held my eyes as he made his way through the tonton macoutes. Crash held two swords and wielded them with a deadly accuracy that had the undead stumbling away from him. Face grim, his magic flared around him and shoved the critters back farther.

  The fight was over in a matter of minutes, the undead either gone or laid out as flat as me. Crash ran to my side, his swords disappearing into thin air. I’d have to ask him about that trick later.

  “Bree,” his hands hovered over me as if he wasn’t sure where to touch me. I reached a hand up and snaked it around his neck.

  He scooped me up into his arms, which put me on eye level with my friends. I looked for Sarge first. “You came back.”

  The werewolf gave a sheepish grin. “Well . . .the thing is, I realized about halfway back to Savannah that Corb was wrong. You were right. And—”

  “Don’t tell me you owed me,” I said.

  He gave me a wolfy grin. “I realized you needed me a lot more than he did.”

  My lips trembled, and I saw tears welling in his eyes before he looked away. “Don’t make me cry.”

  I dashed a few tears away. “You all came back for me.”

  Crash gently tightened his hold on me. “Bree, you aren’t in this fight alone. You aren’t.”

  And just like that, the world was a little better. At least for that moment

  Back at Penny’s house, Charlotte’s laughter rang in the air as Eric entertained her. They’d called her mother right away, and she was on
her way to meet us here to get her daughter. I took the hottest bath I could stand. I had my ankle propped out of the hot tub, an ice pack tied around it. The bruising was nothing short of spectacular, and it was spreading from every point where the gator’s teeth had tried to tear into me. “I need to give Gerry a bottle of whiskey.” I’d been enjoying some whiskey of my own, so the words came out a little slurred.

  Penny sat on a stool next to the tub, watching over me. “Her clothing is the best, but I think whiskey isn’t her flavor. She’s more of a rum girl. Pirate blood, you know.”

  That Penny knew Gerry shouldn’t have surprised me, but the whiskey I’d been sipping had been dosed with what I suspected was a very small dose of something loaded, and I was kind of out of it.

  The next thing I knew, I was wrapped in a warm blanket and being tucked into bed, a pair of rather well-muscled arms wrapped around me and a hard chest against my cheek.

  “Thank you,” Crash said with a chuckle, and I realized I might be saying everything I was thinking, which would be dangerous.

  “I lost both knives,” I whispered.

  “I’ll make you more.” He kissed me on the forehead and the light flicked off. “You need to sleep, let the potion Penny gave you do its work, and tomorrow we’ll find Celia.”

  I yawned and snuggled deeper against his body. “I know where she is, and I think I know where the wings are.”

  He startled against me. “You do?”

  “Hmmm.” If I wasn’t so tired I’d lick him, but as it was, I let whatever they’d given me do its work and drifted off to sleep.

  My eyes were closed, my body relaxed, but I was having another vivid dream.

  I blinked and found myself standing at the front door of Marge and Homer’s house. I walked forward, opened the door, and looked around the room. All the voodoo dolls were strewn about, scattered, bits and pieces missing, heads with no bodies.

  The wounds on the voodoo dolls reflected what my friends had done to the undead army. I put a fist to my belly, nausea threatening to make me spew. I still didn’t quite get their status. Alive. Dead. Undead.

  “You won,” Marge said softly as she stepped out of the narrow hallway. “Not that I was really fighting with you.”

  I stared at her, knowing there was only one reason I was here. “Where is Robert?”

  “Your skeleton friend? You don’t want to know where your ex-husband is?” Marge looked at me, her skin that faint blue tone that made her look less than alive.

  “I want Robert back,” I said. “Now.”

  She grinned. “You can’t have them both.”

  Was she serious? “So you’re going to keep Alan? And do what to him?”

  “Well, now that he’s stuffed into one of those dead bodies, he can work for me. Fresh dead works best. Must replenish the army, you know.” She grinned, and I think she meant to make me feel bad.

  I turned away so she couldn’t see my face. Because I didn’t think grinning at her would give me the upper hand. I cleared my throat and nodded, turning back. “Okay, you keep Alan and I’ll take Robert.”

  She threw me a finger bone, and I caught it midair. Robert morphed from bone into a full-bodied, very alive looking human.

  He caught me around the waist and put himself between me and Marge. “We have to go,” he said.

  I didn’t argue. “Give Alan my love!” I yelled back at Marge. A flicker of humor crossed her face, as if she understood that I wasn’t all that fussed about leaving my ex behind, and found it funny.

  Robert hurried me out of the door, took my hand, and then we were running through the streets. My leg didn’t hurt, my body wasn’t aching, and I was feeling pretty good. Best I’d felt in days, weeks maybe.

  “Robert, stop, stop!” I said. “Why are we running?”

  He slowed and turned to face me. We were in one of the squares of the city, the night air soothing, the smell of flowers filling the space between us as if we were actually there.

  “Bree, I’m sorry,” he whispered, a look of horror on his face. “I couldn’t stop them from taking me.”

  “Not your fault,” I said. “Robert, none of us realized how strong that necro was.”

  He took both of my hands and lifted them to his mouth, kissing the backs of them in what was decidedly not a friend move.

  Uh-oh.

  “Robert, we are good. Honest. And I know where Gran is,” I said. “I’m going to get her as soon as I wake up.”

  He nodded and dragged me to him, icy blue eyes locked on mine. “Good.”

  Then he cupped my face with his hands and kissed me.

  28

  I didn’t say a word to anyone about the dream. Nor did I say anything about the kiss to Robert, who was back in his skeleton form at my side, swaying and whispering “friend.” Nor did I let myself think about how the kiss had made me feel.

  How freaking amazing it had been.

  Nope, I was not going there. I’d just said goodbye to Corb, and I did not need to replace him for another damn love triangle. With a dead man no less, talk about complicated.

  No.

  No.

  But gawd damn, that kiss . . .

  I swallowed hard, and even though it had been a dream kiss, I’d woken up hot and flushed, my body tingling all over. More than that, my magic was screaming loudly enough that I’d woken Crash.

  Now here we were, back in Savannah. Suzy and Eric had gone with Charlotte and her mom to their home, Penny in tow. Penny would be the one to train her now, and whether the silver coven liked it or not, they were about to get their first new member in about thirty years.

  Penny seemed to think she would be staying with Missy, but I had my doubts about how that would go down.

  Corb was gone, no one knew where, and Sarge had taken over his loft to keep an eye on things until the siren got back. It looked like Jinx was still hanging around trying to get lucky with the werewolf.

  And me? I was headed to the Hollows, limping still but not as badly.

  I’d called ahead and Eammon was waiting for me. Tom was still staying with Missy, recuperating from the wraith attack.

  Crash had come with me, much to the displeasure of Eammon, or so I gathered from the look on his face when we stepped onto the Hollows’ grounds.

  “You had to bring him?”

  “Him saved my sweet cheeks,” I said.

  Eammon grumped and shook his head. “Fine. But I still don’t like it, or him.”

  I walked past him to the angel statue tomb and put my hand on it. That same flowing warmth that I’d felt before pulsed beneath my touch. “Gran?” I pushed a little of my magic into it, calling her forward, and she slowly materialized to the side of the statue.

  “Honey girl, I knew you’d figure it out. Your magic had to touch me in order for me to appear.” She smiled, and I noted that she was far more immaterial than she’d been at her house.

  “You aren’t disappearing on me, are you?” I asked through a tight throat.

  She shook her head. “When Missy released me from my bonds to the house—”

  I jabbed a finger into the air. “I knew it! I knew that witch had done something. I—”

  “I asked her to,” Gran said. “I knew that something was coming.”

  My jaw flapped open. “YOU WHAT?”

  “I asked her to. I realize I should have told you, but my memories were so fuzzed over.”

  Eammon and Crash were staring back, and I remembered that at least Eammon couldn’t see her. I filled them in quickly.

  “Why would she do that?” Eammon barked. “Makes no sense to be untethered!”

  “Because I knew my granddaughter would follow wherever I went, you old fool, and I thought she would come here!” Gran snapped and I conveyed the message word for word. Eammon grimaced. I grinned.

  “This is where you hid them?” I asked as I touched the statue.

  Gran slid an insubstantial hand over the angel. Two stone feathers fell as if they had never truly be
en attached. When they clunked to the ground, the stone fell away from them, leaving a pair of glittering white feathers.

  “You need to get rid of them,” Gran said. “Once and for all.”

  I scooped them up and tucked them into my hip bag. “Gran, what about you?”

  She smiled. “You think I’d disappear after all that work you put in to find me? I think not. Besides, I heard Eammon grumbling about a new witch to be trained. If we have a new trainee, then I can’t wait to meet her.”

  Back at Gran’s house, I looked around the kitchen. Everyone was here. Gran, Feish, Crash, Kinkly, Eric, Suzy, Sarge, Jinx, Penny, and even Robert, swaying as he watched us from the corner of the room. And we had our new crew too—Charlotte and her mom, Ryu, from next door, along with Bridgette, their house goblin.

  They were all here, my friends who’d become family. My family who’d saved me when I’d thought I was alone. They’d come to my rescue, and I would never forget that moment for as long as I lived.

  Feish was still peeved that she’d been left out of the final fight. “I could have helped,” she’d muttered. “I have fighting skills.”

  Crash had whispered to me quietly, “She was so upset that you’d been taken, I left her at the safe house.”

  My throat tightened and I looked away from the group.

  “Crash, could I get your help in the forge?” I asked softly as the others bustled about.

  Sarge let out a wolf whistle and a wink, then grabbed Penny and made a rather rude humping motion.

  Penny swatted him with her cane, and I rolled my eyes as he yelped. “Of all the places to get busy, a forge is not the one I’d choose, thanks.”

  Crash followed me out the back door and down the steps to the basement, where he’d set up his shop. “I don’t know. I could sit you on the anvil, the height would be about right.”

  A flush of desire whipped through me, and I cleared my throat. “We need to burn something.” I didn’t want to say what it was out loud, in case someone was listening.