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Authors: J. Joseph Wright

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BOOK: Ghost Guard
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IN THE BALLROOM, a jazz trio played to a sparse yet enthusiastic group of dancers. A pianist tickling the keys. A wire whisk against a snare drum. A baritone sax purring a gentle tune. She glided past the dance floor, watching a half dozen couples sway to the sounds.

A
cool zephyr blew the hair from her eyes, chilling the perspiration on her exposed flesh. She tightened at a disquieting sensation. More than just a slight breeze, but a touch. Skin to skin. A soft hand on the small of her back.

She spun and flung her palm, aiming for the cheek of whoever dared be so presumptuous
, yet slapped only air. Her face warmed with embarrassment as the room filled with people lured from other areas of the house by the intoxicating sounds.

She shot a glance through the crowd, toward the doors leading to the balcony
, and then held her chest abruptly. The sight of two penetrating green eyes forced her to turn and stare timidly at her feet.

She resisted looking over her shoulder to see if those breathtaking eyes were still gazing at her. But her will had
deserted her, replaced by a hungry curiosity. A feeling she both hated and relished at the same time. She faced the opposite direction and offered a smile. The vision had disappeared. No eyes drawing her in. Nobody watching. Then she felt coolness again, and caught a musky, masculine scent. A streak of light, barely noticeable, but certainly there, whipped by, creating a forceful whirlwind that twirled her one hundred and eighty degrees.

A man’s face confronted her.
Bold chin. Square jaw. Strong cheekbones. Symmetrical nose. Then she saw those dazzling emeralds once more. Her knees wanted to fold. Her ankles were in jeopardy of popping sideways in her six-inch heels. She had to close her eyes. The sight made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t get over it, though. That face. Ruggedly handsome. Young. Eager. Almost mischievous.

The song ended to a rousing ovation. Before the applause died down, another number
began, this one lively and reckless. A Tango. She felt her body lift into the air. Her stomach stiffened. Her pumps fell off her feet. Then she did a weightless pirouette, her pointed toes skimming against the travertine.

Surrendering, she let her head fall back. She summoned the nerve to sneak a peek at her phantom partner, this man who
came to her in a vision. Those eyes. Deep pools of green with a hint of blue when the candlelight reflected off of them just right. She tried not to fall into a trance.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“You can call me Rev,” his voice was smooth yet stimulating.

“I don’t remember inviting
you, Rev. This is a private party. How did you get in?”

He stepped in rhythm then dipped, lifted, twirled, and dipped her once more before drawing her nose to his.

“You might say I’m a friend of your husband’s.”

She giggled. The room was spinning.

“Friend, huh? Do you work on the show?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then what? Don’t tell me you work for another show,” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re not a spy are you? From a rival network? Looking for some inside information on Richard’s newest toy.”

“A spy?
No. But close.”

“Well, you’d better be good friends with him. If Richard sees you dancing with me like this, I don’t know what he’d do. He’s got quite the jealous streak.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Rev twirled her again, holding her hand high, her bare feet squeaking on the tiles.

“It’s a shame. You’re so beautiful.
So delicate. What’s that man thinking, neglecting you so much? He’s such a fool. Such a fool.”

She tried to get away. He tightened his grip on her
waist and shoulder, pulling her close to his chest. She felt him trembling for her.

“But we mustn’t,” she managed a hoarse moan. “What will the guests think? What will they say?”

“To hell with them.”

“No,” she stepp
ed away. “No, I can’t! Stop, please!” she tossed her hair, feeling his hands on her shoulders, feeling him tug her close. Her silky locks shrouded her vision. He repeated her name as if lost and calling for help. His whisper carried on a mysterious wisp of air, circling her, swishing against her cheek with the softest of strokes. Her heart felt like he’d plucked it from her chest.

“N
O!” she spun the other way.

The music stopped.
Confused looks. Dancing couples froze in mid-step. All heads turned to Dianne.


Dianne?”

She hopped to attention, veins surging with nervous energy.
Sweeping her hair from her forehead, she found Richard, squinting and in search of something.

“Who the hell are you talking to? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she threw up her hands and stomped to the parlor. Richard turned and smiled.

“Everything’s fine,” he gestured at the band. “Strike up the music. Dance, dance
, everyone! Dianne’s just going to freshen up a bit. She’ll be back. In the meantime, let’s have some drinks!”

A round of cheers as
Dianne climbed to the top of the grand staircase. She came to a mirror and paused, not at all happy with her appearance.

“Damn dress,” she straightened her bust, tugging on the top and shaking her hips in an altogether unladylike fashion. She didn’t care. Who could see her? Then her pulse flushed at the hint of a
pleasurable fragrance. And, when a man stepped into the light behind her, she froze. She recognized the face.

“Rev, what are you doing? You shouldn’t be up here.”

“I can’t help myself,” he glided to her, pushing against her from behind. His bold approach left her breathless. She wanted nothing more than to surrender.

“If Richard catches you up here, he’ll kill you.”

He laughed and brushed the straw-colored hair from her shoulder, running his forefinger from just below her ear to her diamond necklace.

“I don’t fear death. Death fears me.”

She tilted her head, watching him in the reflection as he pressed his lips against her bare skin. Her eyes rolled to the backs of their sockets. She inhaled and exhaled deep and slow. Icy pinpricks teased her senses. One more second of this and she would have no choice but to give in.

“I-I-I can’t!” she paced forward, placing a wrist on her
brow, feeling the floor buckle and sway. The bedroom at the end of the hall became her only goal. She stumbled through the double doors, forcing them open then falling onto an elegant Indian rug. She felt a pair of strong hands lift her up, and she couldn’t breathe.

Slam!
the doors swung closed.
Poof!
twenty candles burst aflame. A swift wind blew apart the bed canopy drapes and he lowered her onto the plush comforter. As she sank into the downy mattress, he flicked a finger and the air sweetened with the melody of a slow, rhythmic ballad.


Ooo, Baby…”
Marvin Gaye’s soft, seductive voice crooned over the speakers.
“I just get this feelin’…”

The wind tossed
Rev’s golden brown hair, along with the lapels of his tailored suit jacket. He took it off, allowing the gale to tug at his shirt and reveal a pair of smooth, chiseled pectorals.

“Oh, my!” no longer did she feel the need to shield herself from this man’s undeniable charm. Richard didn’t care about her. That much became plainly obvious the moment he’d made his career the main focus of his life.

“Somethin’ tells me, baby, Oooo…”


Oh, Dianne,” he whispered. “Alone. Isolated. You feel like nobody cares about you,” he took her hand in his, stroking it ever so gently. It made her melt even further. “You need love, Dianne,” he leaned in. “Love…”

The music
increased in volume as Rev closed the distance between them. Nothing mattered now. She wanted desperately for him to kiss her. He hesitated with the most delicious look on his face, almost as if he was contemplating devouring her whole. She loved the thought of him studying her, following her shape with his ravenous eyes.

Then their lips met.

In a flash of dazzling sparks, all candles became ten times brighter. Marvin Gaye’s bluesy vocals sent her into a daze of sensual fulfillment.


Whoo, Let’s get it on…ah, babe. Let’s get it on…”

Rev’s cool flesh caused a flush of tingles from head to toe
. A river of bubbles tickling her insides. His rapturous touch felt unlike any earthly pleasure she’d ever known. She wanted to tell him how much she enjoyed it, but words wouldn’t do. Staring in his gaze, she broke from his lips and released a tiny whimper.

Then the moment was gone with a
CRASH!

The doors flew open.
Dianne cringed when she saw Richard, chest heaving, bowtie askew, eyes fixed on his wife and the man on top of her.


Dianne! What the hell!”

“Richard! Let me explain!”
Dianne said as Rev backed away.

“You don’t need to explain a thing,” Richard ran to a large armoire in the corner. He flung open the cabinet and crouched, pressing several buttons on a hidden digital keypad. “I know exactly what’s going on.
The séance. The invisible dance partner. You have a ghost in here!”

“A what?
A ghost? That’s crazy!” Dianne coiled in bed, shoving herself against the headboard and yanking the comforter to her chin. What she saw made her skin go cold. Rev’s legs disappeared. Then the rest of his body dissolved, leaving the faintest hint of a human outline.

“Yes!
A ghost!” Richard opened a shiny black case after the keypad beeped. “And I’m gonna send him to where he belongs!” he stood and turned, brandishing a gaudy silver weapon.

“The
ghost gun!” she screamed. “No! Don’t hurt him!”

“I can’t hurt him,
Dianne. He’s already dead!” Richard positioned the unwieldy contraption on his shoulder and peered into the view screen. “Ha! Gotcha!” the gun let loose a thick, brilliant ribbon of white light, twisting and turning in midair. The blinding beam, surrounded in a reddish outer glow, searched for a target, and the carpet ruffled as if heavy footsteps were crossing the floor. The shot missed, bouncing harmlessly off the hardwood.

“Forsythe!
That gun has to go!” Rev moved with uncanny speed and agility, soaring toward Richard in a blur.

Richard fired again, this time with more accuracy. Rev had to strain to get out of the way
. He didn’t make it. The crackling, electric bolt clipped his side and he cried out. As his ethereal body dissolved in and out of view, he held the area above his right hip, glaring at Richard, who stood firm, pointing his space-age weapon.

“I hit you!” Richard
roared.

“You just
grazed me,” Rev boasted.

“How’s it feel, sucker?”

“Not half as bad as you’re going to feel if you don’t hand that thing over.”

“I don’t think so, ghost! Your time is up on the earthly plane! You don’t belong here! You need to cross over, and my gun will make that happen!”

Aaaaaiiiieeeee
!

Both doors crashed open and a
small, reddish blob raced in, bouncing off walls, the floor, the ceiling. Then it flew toward Richard and he held his gun with one hand while shooing the pest away with the other. Dianne recognized the entity—Ruby, the spirit Madam Dominika had conjured earlier. The thing had Richard’s full attention, darting about his head and shoulders, looping between his legs, dashing at his arms, and clutching the ghost gun.

Richard separated his gun from Ruby’s grasp
, then retreated two steps. He leaned against the bedpost and hit the trigger. Ruby screeched, threw up the stubs that passed for her arms, and zipped out of sight, straight through a wall. Richard aimed at the spot where she’d disappeared, but something stopped him. A tempest, deep gray and angry, appeared with a tremendous
Smash!

The whole house shook. The chandelier clacked and clinked. The armoire next to Richard tumbled over on top of him. He didn’t have time to react other than drop the gun and throw up his hands.
Behind the wardrobe, he saw what had brought it down. A large, stormy shadow shot down and scooped up the ghost gun. Dianne made out the features of this new apparition, and realized it was Brutus, another one of Dominika’s spirits. Dark. Mysterious. Enigmatic. He looked human, at least more human than Ruby, but didn’t have many features other than two reddish gashes for eyes.

Then, to
Dianne’s and Richard’s amazement, Dominika showed up, sprinting with the surprising agility of an athlete. She stared at Richard as he squirmed under the upturned wardrobe. He groaned and craned his neck to watch her. Then he groaned again and let his head fall to the floor.

“Rev!”
Dominika searched the room. “Rev, where are you? Are you all right?”

A faint figure
appeared sitting in a chaise lounge. He only managed a rough shape. Then the details began to fill in as Rev spoke.

BOOK: Ghost Guard
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ads

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