“Excuse me?” Had he heard her correctly? Because it sounded as if she’d suggested he was basically whining, which was not the case. He never did that.
“Didn’t you tell me Pendleton is experimenting on people in this house as we speak? I think the most important thing we can do is locate them, not worry about what Foy told you and when. Not to mention that if he’s living in the future unchanged then he knows all about this. He knows he told you in this house, right when he did. Maybe that’s why he never told you before now. Since it had to happen here.”
“Time travel sucks.” Did they sell Tylenol this far back in the past? What did people do for headaches? Could he just pick up some magnesium somewhere? The thought jarred him. “Heather, I have to get you out of here.”
“What?” Now she looked as incredulous as he’d felt moments earlier. Her lips puckered and her eyebrows sloped downward.
“I’m getting you out of this house. You shouldn’t be anywhere near this mess. I’ll take you out. Find the people Pendleton is harming and then watch to see who kills him. At that point we’ll both be transported back.”
At least he hoped that was exactly how it would work. None of his plans were coming to fruition exactly as he laid them out. Still, if he could get her out of the mansion, he’d really have made headway into keeping her safe.
“I’m not leaving. I’m helping you.”
“Heather, I have a very bad track record. The last innocent people I involved in something were murdered, leaving behind a teenaged son who will never know how brave his parents were. I won’t do that to you. You’re getting out of here. End of story.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Listen, buddy, I don’t get ordered around. That pseudo alpha-male bullshit might work for other women but it doesn’t for me. I’m staying and helping. If you don’t like it, maybe Foy will. I appreciate the effort to keep me safe but shuttling the little woman to safer waters? Yeah. It’s not happening today.”
Braxton’s cock twitched. How was it possible he wanted her even more now? When had he become the kind of guy who liked to be yelled at by women?
Heather’s eyes got huge and she raised her arm to point behind him. “Jim, the walls are bleeding.”
He whirled around to confirm what she’d said. “Shit. That can’t be good.”
Chapter Nine
The walls were actually bleeding. She took two steps back and slammed into Jim’s hard chest. He wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. Why was he doing that? She wanted to scream. Maybe it was the way she tensed, but he shoved his hand over her mouth before she could do so. “Don’t yell. It’ll draw people in here. We can’t have that.”
The walls were bleeding and he was concerned with bringing too much attention to them? This was just the kind of a thing that should get someone running into the room. Preferably while she got to run in the opposite direction.
And to think that moments earlier she’d been going on and on about how she wasn’t leaving him alone in the house—as if she were brave. How could she have forgotten that she wasn’t?
She nodded because, really, what would screaming at the top of her lungs accomplish? Jim dropped his hand.
“Should we be running out of the room?” She wanted him to say yes. They could run all the way back to their own time, when all she had to contend with was ghosts. Dealing with being perpetually haunted seemed preferable to this. By leaps and bounds.
“I don’t think we’re in any immediate danger.”
“You don’t think we’re in any immediate danger? You don’t know? Jim, the walls are bleeding.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Heather, I’m not blind. I can see it too. And I don’t think we’re in any immediate danger because I have never seen the walls bleed before, so I can’t say for sure what’s about to happen.”
“Aren’t you some kind of expert in this?”
Jim snorted. “No. But we have a resident expert in the house. If you want, I can leave you here and go get the fallen angel to come in here and explain what the walls bleeding actually means.”
“Don’t you dare. If you go anywhere, I’m coming with you. How can you even suggest leaving me in here?”
“I guess my concern is that if we both exit, the walls will stop bleeding and then my mentor, the liar, won’t be able to adequately assess the situation.”
She whirled around and shoved him. “You’re making fun of me. I can hear it in your voice. You didn’t really intend to leave me here.”
“No. I’ve already done my stupid for the day. Leaving you with Pendleton was the only time I’m abandoning you in this house. But I really am not concerned by the current display.”
They were back to the beginning in this endless circle of her not understanding why he wasn’t terrified and him not explaining it. “Jim.” Maybe if she spoke slowly he’d get it. “The walls are bleeding.”
“Yes. And?” He raised an eyebrow.
At this point she had to figure he was being deliberately obtuse. What other conclusion could there be? “Why does there have to be an and? The walls are bleeding. That is enough.”
“Sweetheart, you saw a demon earlier. You got messed with by Pendleton. We’re years out of our own timeline. Why does the walls bleeding send you into such a flurry? They’re not doing anything else. The room isn’t filling up with blood. We’re not going to drown in it. This is some kind of weird display that is either happening everywhere in the house or designed for our benefit. Either way, I’m not giving it—or them or whatever—the fucking satisfaction of running from the room.” He let go of her and strode away toward the wall. “Despite Jack’s earlier betrayal, I’m still Shadow Promised. I fight bad shit. I don’t cower from it.”
She knew male posturing when she saw it. If his ego hadn’t been bruised from Foy earlier, he probably wouldn’t be so flippant now. Heather pointed at the wall. “Then fight that.”
“What?” He turned around to look at her.
“If you’re such a tough guy and you fight evil and blah blah blah, then by all means do so. Fight the blood on the wall.”
A knock on the door stopped their argument. She hadn’t shouted. He couldn’t blame her for drawing attention to the bizarre happenings in the room.
“Stay where you are.” Jim walked toward the door before stopping to pick up a candlestick from above the fireplace. What did he intend to do with that? Was he going to whack whomever was on the other side of that door with the decoration?
“Sure thing.” Much as she thought leaving the bedroom the best course of action, she didn’t relish the idea of getting into more trouble with whatever was going to happen when Jim answered the knock.
“You.” He didn’t sound scared and he didn’t wield his straight-out Clue weapon, which meant it had to be safe enough for her to approach. As she walked toward him, Jim swung the door wider and she got a good look.
Standing in the hallway, this time not pointing a weapon, was Jack Foy. He nodded at Jim before looking at her. “Ma’am.”
Now he found his manners? “Sir.”
“All right.” Jim’s voice pitched up a tone. “Enough with the nice-nice. What do you want?”
Jack’s eyes roamed the room and stopped on the walls. “Are you aware that your walls are bleeding?”
“No. We’ve both gone blind. Thanks for the update.” Jim moved to close the door and Jack stuck his foot in it to stop it.
“If you know the walls are bleeding, why aren’t you stopping them?”
“Because I don’t know how to do that. It wasn’t one of our lessons.” Jim clenched his teeth, and she walked over to him. When had his pain become hers? Just seconds before she’d been giving him a hard time, but seeing Jack do it made her skin crawl. No one got to criticize Jim but her, apparently.
“Why wouldn’t I have taught you how to do something so simple?”
“Beats the fuck out of me.” Enough! She had to bite her tongue to ke
ep from saying something. Jim continued. “Did you want something or did you come here to criticize and cause problems?”
Jack walked into the room as if he’d been invited to do so. He placed his hand on the bleeding wall and it stopped. He stood silently, staring at the now-clean surface.
“Thank you.” She spoke because it felt like the kind of moment when someone should.
He turned around. “You’re welcome.” His attention moved to Jim. “I didn’t tell you how to do that because you probably can’t. Sometimes I forget that I’m always going to be so much more able to do certain mystical things than others are. You have gifts but I would imagine I didn’t teach you this because you can’t do it.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“All right,” she interrupted. “Why was the wall bleeding to begin with and what did you want?”
“The walls bleeding is probably a symptom of what is happening downstairs. Pendleton is really mad that his demon is gone. He isn’t happy. He’s brought out a spirit board and he’s bound and determined to know who in his household did it. I thought you’d want to know.”
“Shit.” Jim took her hand. “We’re getting you out of here before everything explodes. If he’s calling spirits to the house, you’re going to be assaulted by ghosts.”
“I’m more concerned with you.” She tugged at his arm to stop his movement. “You were the one to get rid of the demon. Not me.”
“He can eat me. Nothing he can do can affect me at all.”
Jack coughed. “Nice language to use around a girl.”
“Things are a little different where we’re from.”
“It’s customary to use foul words and phrases that would be better suited to a field of sport in front of a lady? People just openly talk that way? No wonder I went and found a team. The world must really be getting ready to end.”
“Do you do that on purpose?” She didn’t have time to try to figure out what made
Jack tick. “Insult him but make it seem like you didn’t?”
“I think I very transparently insulted him. Did you think I was trying not to?”
Jim threw his hands in the air. “Forget it. I’m a pig. I get it. I don’t deserve to be in the same room with Heather. I have no idea why she’s wasting time with me. I’m a loser. I always have been. We can agree on that.” “Hey…” She didn’t agree with one word he’d spoken.
They kept talking as if they hadn’t heard her.
“Regardless of that, I’ve actually come to ask you to help me. Everything is going to explode shortly. I can feel it in my bones. You’re here. I guess you work with me in the future. I must trust you there, so I’d like to try to do that here. Can you help me locate the mental patients? I’m not getting anywhere on my own.”
Jim didn’t respond but stared at Foy blankly. She couldn’t read a single thought on his face. It was as if he had shut down inside at Foy’s words. Her heart clenched.
“He’ll help you,” she responded for him.
Jim blinked rapidly. “Why would I do that?”
“Because he asked you and that’s what you do. You help. You’re a good man. My good man. We may not have known each other all that long but that much I know. If you say no, you’ll never forgive yourself.”
Foy shook his head. “You know what? This was a mistake. I don’t know whether I can change the future but I’ll try not to bother you with all this. You clearly don’t want to be involved.”
Jim interrupted him. “Oh no. I’m going to help your sorry ass. And when we get back to the future, I’m going to beat you to a pulp. Come on, let’s go find the real victims in this house before Pendleton comes looking for me.” Heather shook her head. Men.
“It’s got to be the kitchen.” Heather spoke the words he’d been thinking. “If there are people hidden in this house waiting to be sacrificed or something, then they have to be in there somewhere. We’ve looked everywhere else.”
Jack nodded. “Agreed. But how we get in there without his considerable staff noticing, I have no idea.”
And if the chanting from Pendleton’s study was any indication of anything, the owner of the home was about to get some spirit to talk to him.
“Heather.” He hated to bother her with this, but the only way they were going to get any time to find the people was with her help. If she could even do it. “Do you think you could interfere with the ghosts?”
“How do you mean?”
She looked so pale to him. This whole thing was taking a toll on her. In terms of her body clock, she’d only just gotten off the drugs they’d had her on in the future to help with her so-called delusions. What had he been thinking?
“Never mind. It’s a bad idea. Let’s just slash and grab. Go into the kitchen ready to kick butt.” He really was trying to watch his language since Foy’s reprimand. The man was right. He shouldn’t be such a disgusting ass around a nice girl like Heather. She was probably counting the minutes until she could get away from him. “They won’t see us coming.”
“No. I want to hear what you were going to say to her.” Foy crossed his hands over his chest. “Don’t chicken out. Tell us.”
“If I can help, I want to.” Her big eyes met his. He supposed it was too much to ask to get to spend some time with her away from the craziness of the world. To just get lost in her depths…
Why did she have to be so nice? Why wasn’t she running for her life? He’d already gotten her into trouble. Why was she looking at him as if she still trusted anything he said? Foy had all but shoved the fact that he was really an incompetent nincompoop down her throat in the bedroom earlier.
After taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “No. I shouldn’t have said anything. I won’t place her at risk. This is too unknown. I’m not going to just throw around nonsense. You can manage to handle a couple of line cooks and a maid, can’t you, Foy? I’ll handle the rest of the serving staff.”
“Depends on the line cook.” Foy held his gaze and didn’t flinch. “I’d really rather not get stabbed tonight. I like this shirt.”
“Why don’t you want me to do what you thought of a second ago? Do you think I’m not capable?”
“I think you look pale and I want to wrap you in a blanket and take you somewhere where nothing can hurt you ever again. I don’t want you involved in this. I don’t even particularly want to be—now that I know that I’ve been lied to most of my life—and I certainly don’t want to make any more mistakes with your safety.”
He looked away. There. He’d said it all. The rejection could begin.
“Wow. You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?” Jack whistled when he finished speaking.
Braxton had been wrong. He hadn’t really known humiliation before that moment. There couldn’t be anything worse than being called out on his feelings by his mentor, whom he wasn’t even sure he still liked, in front of the woman in question. He’d rather send another demon off. Hell, a slew of them would be preferable.
“Jim.” Heather wrapped her arms around his waist. If she’d heard what Foy had said, she didn’t mention it. “I appreciate you looking out for me. I’m tired. I’ll admit that. But it’s not more than that. I’m okay. What can I do?”
He hated to tell her. But with her arms around him, how could he deny her anything, ever? If she asked for a unicorn, he’d find one.
“I thought maybe you could interfere with the ghosts. You know they’d rather be talking to you than him. You speak with them, keep them from getting to him.”
“Huh.” She bit down on her lower lip. He wanted to lick the spot she bit. Heather abused that portion of her anatomy whenever she thought hard about something. He’d love to just smooth it out under his own mouth and…
“Hey, lover boy. Get your head back in the game. What the fuck? Is there another Incubus in the house? Can you concentrate?”
In this case, Foy was right. He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “Do you think you can do it?”
 
; “I can certainly try.” She nodded. “I mean, what is there to lose? At worst, nothing much will happen. At best, it’ll work.”
He shook his head. “Let’s be very clear. There is a much worse scenario than that.”
“Which is?”
He smoothed his hand over her forehead at her question. How could she have spent her life witnessing what she did and not know?
“He means Pendleton catches you, takes you, and you find yourself one of the ghosts you’re so bothered by,” said Foy.
Braxton winced. “You’re much more diplomatic in the future. You’d find a way to tell her what she needed to hear without being such a jackass about it.” He looked back down at Heather, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “He’s not wrong. Worst-case scenarios are always death.”
“We have to get out of here. We have to find out who killed Pendleton to do that. And if you can rescue some people from their worst-case scenario, then you need to do that. I’ll figure out a way to do this and not get caught.”
“I can’t just accept that.”
Foy made an annoyed sound. All right, Braxton had had enough. “Here’s the deal. In the future—and maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, because maybe I should let you be surprised, but I’m going to lay it on you straight—you’re going to fall in love so hard you aren’t going to know what to do with yourself. And guess what, angel boy? She leaves your ass cold. For years we all watched you mope around over her. So don’t be judgmental. No one gets more idiotic over love than you.”
“Ah…”
He didn’t wait to hear what Foy said. Screw that man. He’d have done anything for him. Anything the guy wanted. Now it all seemed like such a waste. Where was the calm, Zen teacher who had the answer for everything? What did this guy know? He wasn’t even kind.
“Come with me, Heather. I’m going to put you someplace I deem safe. Wait here, Foy. I’ll be back and we can storm the kitchen together. You’d think we were taking on Mount Vesuvius the way you’re carrying on.”