Page 27 of Ghouls Gone Wild

  While I ran, I managed to tug loose one of the grenades, which would have less of an effect the closer I drew to my target, so I popped the top and held it above my head, hoping it would give me just enough of a magnetic field to make me a slightly less viable target.

  I swept down the hill racing as fast as I’d ever run in my life, willing my feet to move faster and faster while my free arm pumped for all it was worth. I leaned slightly to my right and through another set of thin woods I could see a light shining like a beacon—as if it were calling me home.

  Out the corner of my eye I could see a black shadow, edging closer and closer. I lowered the arm holding the spike and swung it toward the shadow. I heard a slight squeal and it peeled back a little.

  “Get away from me!” I cried as I surged into the woods, narrowly missing a low branch and dodging the trunk of another tree. Branches scraped my hands and face, but I didn’t slow down. In fact, if anything, I think I was so scared I actually sped up.

  Something clawed hard at my shoulder, but I tore free while a searing pain raked across my collarbone. “You bitch!” I yelled, and kept going, finally bursting through the trees. The little house was only a hundred yards away, but I was breathing hard and my pace had finally slowed. Another shadow appeared on my left and I switched hands holding the spike and swung out at it right before something grabbed my hair and nearly pulled me to the ground.

  With all the remaining strength I could muster, I lurched forward, feeling several strands yank out, and I managed to keep running. My breath was so loud and so heavy that I realized I was gasping, but I had to keep going. I had to make it!

  I took two more gulps of air and shouted, “Katherine!”

  Nothing happened and I strained to see in through the window with the light on.

  “Kaaaaaaaatheriiiiiiine!” I cried for all I was worth.

  An instant later the door burst open and she stood there along with someone else. Both figures appeared quite startled as I sprinted toward them. “Help me!” I pleaded.

  And just like I’d hoped, Katherine held up her hand as I approached, and shouted, “Stop!”

  I of course kept running, but the shadows next to me peeled off. I reached her porch in four more strides and collapsed on the ground at her feet, panting hard and totally out of breath. “What is going on?” she demanded when I hugged her leg.

  I pointed behind me, and stared up at her. “Send . . . them . . . back!” I rasped.

  Katherine looked over my head, and I knew she could see the three distantly related ancestors. “I did not call them forward,” she said simply. She then turned to the woman at her side and asked, “Will you end this now, Rose?”

  I turned around and sat up, trying to catch my breath and barely able to do much more than that. Rose stood next to Katherine looking terrible. Her face was ashen and her eyes were huge and there was such guilt in her eyes. “I don’t know how,” she cried.

  I held up a finger to get her attention. “I . . . might . . . know,” I said, pausing as I took two more heaving breaths and called out, “Isla! Isla McKay! I command you to appear!”

  In the wink of an eye a mist formed about ten feet from us, and through that mist we could clearly see the white outline of a woman. “Have you seen me babe?” she asked.

  I nodded. “She’s right here.” I pointed up to Rose. “This is Roisinn,” I told her, struggling to my feet.

  Isla looked terribly confused and shook her head. “She’s not me babe.”

  I turned to Rose and asked, “What’s your name, honey?”

  Rose hesitated, but a nod from her aunt seemed to convince her to play along. “My name is Roisinn McKay,” she said.

  By now I’d gotten command over my breathing again and said calmly, “You missed her growing up, Isla. Roisinn has become a young lady now.”

  Again, Isla looked terribly confused. “I don’t understand,” she said to me, and turned to her sisters for an explanation.

  Before they could communicate anything, however, I said, “You died giving her life, Isla. That’s why you missed her growing up. She’s lived her life and moved forward in this, the world of the living, while you’ve been looking for her all these years.”

  “I’ve . . . died?!”

  I nodded firmly, and was grateful that Katherine did the same. “Your restless spirit has been wandering these hills for some time, love,” Katherine said. “And your pain has kept your dear sisters restless and in search of vengeance.”

  Isla gasped anew. Turning an accusing stare at the three dark shadows hovering nearby, Isla asked, “Is this true, Rigella?”

  If there were words exchanged, we could not hear them, but we could all watch Isla’s reaction, and to my great relief she appeared horrified. “You must stop!” she demanded. “Rigella! Dera! Firtha! You must not continue this!”

  Behind the three sisters, over two dozen new silhouettes appeared. There were a little over thirty souls gathered and three of them I recognized: Joseph Hill, Jack McLaren, and Cameron Lancaster. When Cameron appeared, I heard Rose emit a small cry, and I looked up to see tears leaking down her face and she whispered, “Oh, Camey! I’m so sorry!”

  Isla also caught sight of the souls behind her and she stepped away from her three sisters, recoiling in horror. “Rigella!” she shouted accusingly. “This is not our way! You’ve murdered these poor souls?! It’s against everything we stand for! Everything you stand for! Our mission has never been for ill! It has always been for healing! For preserving life!”

  Rigella’s shadowy face became more humanlike and her expression showed uncertainty for the first time. Rose must have caught it too, because she said, “Aye, me aunts. Me mum is right. I’ve learned what terrible things can happen when you’re consumed with vengeance. It’s time for you to undo this wretched curse, and let the blood you’ve taken be penance enough for those lives of your clan taken by that mob.”

  I watched the witches carefully. Either the three sisters were going to listen, or they weren’t. And if they didn’t, then we’d all likely pay for it. I felt a hand then on my left shoulder and I turned my head to see Sam Whitefeather standing right next to me. I was far too stunned to do anything but gape at him, and he merely smiled and nodded toward Isla.

  A light, bright and pure, appeared above her head, and I knew exactly what it represented. And beyond her thirty-one more lights appeared and hovered over the lost souls on the grass behind the sisters. Slowly they lowered toward each individual, and Isla seemed to be aware that she was running out of time, because she pulled her hands up in a prayer and begged her sisters, “Please! I don’t want to leave here without you! Make peace with these souls now and move along with all of us!”

  And then, something in the ether shifted. The black shadows lost their inky richness and lightened to a more gray appearance. Rigella spoke, and her voice rang loudly across the grass. “We shall consider it penance enough, Isla, and we ask for peace among those against whom we’ve taken our vengeance.” An instant later, three balls of white light appeared above Rigella and her two sisters, and in the next moment all the figures on the lawn disappeared in an intense burst of light, and the shadows that were zipping through the forests vanished, and the night became still and calm and oddly peaceful.

  I got up and limped over to a nearby chair where I eased myself down. I was exhausted and the back of my thigh hurt something fierce. Heath, Gilley, Gopher, and Kim showed up a few minutes later as Katherine was bringing me a hot cup of tea. “Are you okay?” Heath asked, squatting down next to me. I could see he carried spikes in both hands, and Gilley still held tightly to his fire extinguisher.

  “You know,” I told him, “all things considered, I’m just ducky.”

  Fergus Ericson was apprehended by the inspector shortly after running into his house and trying to hide under his bed. Meanwhile, the barrister we’d hired for Gilley and Gopher assured me that they would both have their passports returned to them in the morning.

  Meg finally called Gilley to see what was happening. She’d lost her headset in the woods, and
she’d also lost sight of Jeff and Shelly. We had no idea what’d happened to them, but I had an intuitive feeling that they’d made it out of the woods okay and they were probably done checking out the local ghost tours.

  We also made sure to retrieve the dog from Fergus’s car, which happened to belong to one of his neighbors. He’d taken it without her permission from her backyard. Luckily, the old mutt hadn’t experienced anything more traumatic than a car ride, a short walk and a nap on a lumpy old pillow.

  Rose went into labor that very evening. In fact, she’d been having contractions most of that evening, and before she went to the hospital, she wanted to confess all to her aunt and apologize. That’s why she’d been at Katherine’s.

  Early the next morning, Rose gave birth to a baby girl she named Camille. We heard later that, given the fact that Fergus admitted to hearing them scuffle and finding her a moment later with a bruised lip and holding a frying pan, she was unlikely to spend any time in jail for his murder, as it was a clear case of self-defense.

  Fergus Ericson would not be that lucky. While we were on another bust some months later, Gilley read that he got forty years to life for killing Joseph Hill.

  Heath and I spent a little time cleaning up the area, going back for several nights in a row to help those grounded spirits we’d found hanging from the tree and in the woods cross over. It was exhausting work, but it was worth it, and we got some really fantastic footage out of it for Ghoul Getters.

  Gilley calmed down as well, and I finally got him to go to sleep without a fire extinguisher for a binkie. And while Heath and I cleared the tree, castle, and woods of the spooks, Gil continued to play with Fergus’s gadget, telling me it might come in handy one of these days.

  Gopher was all for that.

  Katherine also took an interest in our work, and came out with us on the ghost hunts, revealing that Cameron had never changed his will after they split up and he’d left her a sizable sum. She planned to buy Joseph’s place, rent out the main house, then work on renovating the castle. She liked Fergus’s idea of turning it into a bed-and-breakfast—sans ghosties.

  The day before we were set to leave Scotland for good, a message arrived for me at the front desk that there was a package awaiting my signature. I passed Heath in the hallway on my way down to see what it was. “Where’re you headed?” he asked, bumping me with his elbow. He and I had been making goo-goo eyes at each other for days now, but we’d always stopped just short of doing anything other than hold hands.

  “Down to the lobby. Someone sent me a package.”

  “A package?” he said with a smile. “I wonder who could have sent you something.”

  He said it so coyly that I thought he might be up to something. “Want to come with me to see what it is?” I asked flirtatiously.

  “Sure,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, right,” I said.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Come on, let’s see who sent me a sweet nothing.”

  We made our way down to the first floor and over to the front desk, and I continued to smile and poke him in the ribs while we waited behind some other folks checking in. “Come on,” I prodded. “What’d you get me?”

  Heath laughed and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly into him. I was surprised by his sudden boldness, but I didn’t fight him off. “I didn’t,” he said, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

  I giggled. “Sure, sure.”

  “Can I help you?” the desk clerk asked.

  I held Heath’s hand, tugging him with me to the front desk. “I was told I had to sign for a package?”

  “And you are?”

  “M. J. Holliday.”

  “Ah yes,” said the clerk, disappearing into a little room and coming back a moment later with a huge bouquet of flowers. “These just arrived for you.”

  I squealed with delight and poked Heath again. “Ohmigod! Heath, they’re gorgeous!”

  His eyes were huge and I had to hand it to him, because now he looked convincingly surprised. “I didn’t,” he said.

  “Yeah, right,” I said, snatching the card and ripping open the envelope. With great happiness I read aloud, “Turn around.” That made me blink. “What does that mean?” I asked him. But Heath was only staring at me blankly. “Heath? What does ‘turn around’ mean?”

  “It means turn around,” said a deep baritone that froze me in place and sent a shock wave right down to my toes.

  Slowly I swiveled in place to face the gorgeous brown eyes of my current boyfriend. “Steven!” I squeaked.

  “Surprise,” he said levelly.

  Oh boy.

  “Um . . . ,” I said, trying to think of something to say. “What are you doing here?”

  “Gilley sent me an e-mail and said you’d been in a fire. So I got on a plane and came here to make sure you were all right.”

  I attempted a smile in the awkward silence that followed. “Maybe we should talk?”

  “Maybe we should,” he agreed. “Are you free now? Or do you two have plans?”

  Oh boy times ten.

  “I’ve got time,” I said quickly. “Tons. Let’s go someplace and talk.” I took Steven by the hand, trying to lead him away from Heath, who did not seem at all pleased that Steven had shown up out of the blue.

  We’d only gone a few paces when Steven called over his shoulder to Heath. “Are you coming?” he asked.

  “Me?”

  Steven nodded. “I believe your name will likely come up, so it’s only fair for you to be included.”

  Oh boy times infinity.

  I had a feeling this was going to be a very long night. And the truth is, that wasn’t even the half of it.

  But that’s another story. . . .

  Read on for a sneak peek at

  Victoria Laurie’s next Ghost Hunter Mystery,

  GHOULS, GHOULS, GHOULS!

  Coming soon from Obsidian.

  For the record, I am not a morning person. Especially not the morning we were about to depart Scotland, because, technically, I believe it was so early it still qualified as the middle of the night. However, the hour did nothing to dampen my producer’s enthusiasm for our next shooting location for our new cable-TV ghost-hunting show. “I know you guys don’t want to hear too much about the history of the place we’re investigating next,” Gopher was saying as the entire cast and crew were seated around a table at a small café in the airport. “But in this case, I really think it’s necessary.”

  I felt something heavy hit my shoulder, and when I turned, I saw my business partner and best friend’s head, resting near my collarbone.

  Gilley Gillespie and I have known each other since the first grade. After high school, I followed Gil to Boston, where he attended MIT and I did readings for clients, connecting them with their dearly departed.

  From there, Gilley and I became partners in a rather unprofitable ghostbusting business. Last year, in search of other funding, Gilley had signed us up to participate in a cable-TV show that investigated haunted possessions, and that was where we’d met another medium, Heath Whitefeather, and of course our producer, Peter Gophner, or Gopher for short.

  Gopher had shown the film from that original haunted-possessions show to some bigwigs at Bravo, and they’d signed me, Gilley, and Heath up for thirteen episodes of a production called Ghoul Getters.

  Since filming began, we’d solved a big mystery or two, and had our lives endangered on a regular basis. All in a day’s work when you’re a ghostbuster, I suppose. And did I mention that the schedule Bravo had us on was exhausting? Hence, why we were at the airport so early, ready to depart to our next shooting location, and why Gilley was now unconscious with his big heavy head resting on my shoulder.

  “Gil,” I whispered, nudging him with my elbow.

  “ZZZZZZZZZ . . . ,” he snored.

  Heath laughed quietly. “He’s out cold.”

  “ZZZZZZZ . . . ,” Gilley agreed.

  I sighed, yawned, and tried to focus on the map Gopher was laying out on the table. “As you know from your tickets, we’re heading to Belfast,
Ireland. From there we’ll travel by car to Portrush and check in to our hotel. Once we get some rest, we’ll head here.”

  Blearily I followed Gopher’s finger, which had zipped over the map to rest on a small X that seemed to be in the middle of the channel that ran between Scotland and Ireland. I vaguely remembered approving some ruins along the Irish coastline back when we were still planning this excursion to Europe, but my brain was so foggy that the details were lost.

  “Are we going scuba diving?” I asked.

  Gopher smiled and for the first time he seemed to detect the rather cranky mood of those of us still awake at the table. “Ha,” he said, flashing a toothy grin. “No. This is actually a very small island just off the Giant’s Causeway.”

  “The whose what?” Heath asked.

  “The Giant’s Causeway,” Gopher repeated. “It’s a narrow strip of water that cuts into the coastline of Northern Ireland.”

  “ ’Kay,” I said. “I’m following you.”

  “Anyway, right here is Dunlow Castle. And that’s the spot for our next investigation.”

  Gopher looked around at us with an expression that suggested he was really excited and we should be too.

  The only one who said anything was Gilley. “ZZZZZZZZ . . .”

  “Gil thinks that’s great,” I said, hiding a smile. Next to me Heath ducked his chin and snorted.

  Gopher glared at us. “Anyway,” he continued, “Dunlow Castle comes with a pretty rich history and is said to be very haunted.”

  “Hopefully not quite as haunted as Queen’s Close,” I muttered, referring to the rather dicey bust we’d just come off.

  Gopher ignored me and laid out a set of blueprints on the table. “Legend has it that in the late fifteen hundreds a ship from the Spanish Armada came close enough to Dunlow to become a prime target for Ranald Dunnyveg—the lord of the castle. He sent a flotilla of ships against the Spaniards, sank the vessel, and traded the crew back to Spain for a tidy ransom.”

  I yawned again. So far, I wasn’t that impressed, but I knew that Gopher wouldn’t be this excited about something unless he was working a specific angle, so I waited him out.