Ghost Walk (16 page)

To
be
safe.

“I
know you’re scared.”  Jamie put his palms on either side of her pale face, the
insubstantial edges of his body tingling where they touched her smooth skin. 
“I know, love.”  He softened his tone with supreme effort of will.  “And I know
you want to deny it, but there’s power in you.  Now’s the time to use it.”

“No,
it’s seriously
not!
  I only know two spells.”  She held up two fingers,
so he could count for himself.  “And one of them is for curing frigging menstrual
cramps!”

“Menstrual
cramps?”  Jamie had always been good at improvised offensives.  It was why he’d
made such a nice living as a pirate, despite the gentlemanly tendencies that
were forever plaguing him.  A pain relieving spell could actually work.  Anything
that dulled pain also dulled senses.  “Okay.”  His mind raced for a beat.  “Here’s
what we’ll do, then:  I will go out in the hall…”

“No!”
 She interrupted, horrified.  “Don’t leave me alone.  Please, Jamie.”  She
tried to catch hold of his sleeve, but her fingers passed straight through his
arm.

He
could’ve cried.  Stepping back from her was the hardest thing he’d ever done.  “I’m
never
going to leave you, Grace.  I swear it.  But we
have
to do
this, alright?  I’m just going into the hall.  When I tell you, you hit the son
of a bitch with ever fucking ounce of power you have, understand?  Dose it up
as high as that spell will go and fry him.”

“That
is absolutely, unequivocally
crazy
.  I’m not good at magic.  I barely
even believe in it.  This idea is
never
going to work.”

“It’ll
work.  I know it will work.”  He wasn’t sure what they would do if it didn’t
work.  Robert was going to get through the door very, very soon.  “We donea have
another idea, so this one is what we’re going with.”

“I
can’t
do
this.”  She persisted in an increasingly panicked voice.  “You’re
not listening!  I’m a normal person, Jamie!  Normal people don’t do this kind
of crap.  And I
hate
spells.  They
always
go wrong.  I can’t
believe
you’re asking me to do this!”  She began rubbing her temples hard enough to
drill right through her skull.  “Peacefulgreencornfields, peacefulgreencornfields,
peacefulgreencornfields…”

“All
I’m asking is for you to try!  For me.  Just
try
the spell.  Please.”  He
would beg if he had to.  “I’m scared, too.  You have no fucking idea how scared
I am, right now.”

Grace
hesitated.  Brown eyes flicked up to his, like those words might have actually
gotten through to her.

“I
can’t touch anything.”  Jamie continued, seeing he had her attention.  The girl
had the heart of a savior.  If she wouldn’t use magic for herself, she might
use it to aid him.  “You’ll have to protect yourself, because I
can’t help
you
.”  Admitting that hurt worse than the rope around his neck.  Grace
deserved so much more than a ghost to aid her.  “I’m sorry, my love.  I am so
fucking sorry.  If I could, I would go out there and destroy that rat-bastard
for you.  I swear it.  But, it’s not possible.  So,
please
try this. 
I’m not sure what else to do to save you.”

Grace
chewed her lower lip, studying his agonized face.  “I guess I could try.”  She
finally said.  “It won’t work, but I’ll try if you want me to.”

“I
want you to try.”  He assured her.

Robert
hit the door hard enough, to shift the dresser a few centimeters across the
hardwood floor.  “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing, you icy bitch!”

Jamie
stayed focused on Grace.  “I want you to try
right now
.”  He stepped
backwards, heading for the hallway.  “I’m going out there and we’re going to
try this, okay?”

She
bobbed her head, but she still looked doubtful.

Jamie
would take what he could get.  “Good.”  He prepared to phase through the wall. 
“Just wait for my signal.”

“Jamie?”

He
turned back to her.

“When
this doesn’t work, it won’t be your fault.  Whatever happens, you tried your
hardest to help me.  Don’t blame yourself.”

His
jaw ticked.  “It’s
going
to work, Grace.  Just this once, try to have a
bit of optimism.”  He ducked through the wall, without giving her a chance to
respond.

Robert
somehow managed to look hungover and drunk at the same time.  Dressed in a suit
he’d clearly slept in, his bloodshot eyes glittered in bleary malice as he
tried to kick down the door to Grace’s bedroom.

Jamie
hated the man more than the cowards who hanged him.  If he could’ve wrapped his
hands around the Robert’s throat, he would’ve popped his skull off like a cork
from a bottle.

“Miserable
son of a bitch.”  He instinctively tilted his head, cracking his neck the way
he used to before he went into battle.  “Ready, love?”  He called to Grace.

“This
is a bad plan.”  She shouted through the door, just in case he hadn’t
understood her reservations the first six times.  “Valley-Forge-in-wintertime-with-no-shoes
bad.”

Robert
hesitated, thinking she was talking to him.  “What?”

Jamie
ignored the idiot.  “You are always focusing on the negative, lass.  Even a bad
plan is better than no plan a’tall.”

“I’m
pretty sure that isn’t true.  There are a lot of non-plans that would’ve been
waaay
better that this idea.”

“What
are you talking about?”  Robert demanded.  “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

“Oh
shut up, Robert!”  Grace snapped.  “Mind your own business!”

Jamie
nearly grinned at her incensed tone.  How could he have ever thought this girl
was weak-spirited?  “On the count of three, now.”  He moved behind Robert,
calculating the line-of-sight.  “He’s standing at about ten o’clock, right in
front of that hideous painting of the donkey you apparently commissioned from
an untalented kindergartener.”

“It’s
a
horse
and I rescued it from a flea market, actually.”

“Not
even the fleas would have that thing about, lass.”  Jamie held up his thumb,
beginning the countdown.  “One.”

“I
hate, hate,
hate
this plan, Jamie.”

Robert
looked behind him and then up at the ceiling, still trying to figure out who
she was speaking to.  “Who the hell is Jamie?”

“
I’m
Jamie.”  Jamie snarled at him.  “The man she
actually
belongs to.”  He extended
his index finger and prayed like hell.  “Two!”

“Jamie,
if he gets in here, don’t watch.”  Grace warned.  “It’ll be harder for you if
you have to watch.”

She
was right.  Seeing Grace harmed would be worse than his own death, but he would
still stay with her through all of it.  “Three!”  He shouted, ignoring her
command.  “Now, Grace!”

Wham!

Energy
slammed out, blasting Robert right in the chest.  Jamie’s eyebrows soared as
the smaller man went flying backwards and careened into the wall.  Grace had far
more magic in her blood than he’d anticipated.  The amped-up menstrual cramp
spell hit with the force of a wrecking ball, knocking Robert right off his
feet.  Lucky for him, the anesthetic quality of the enchantment was increased
as well.  Old Rob was feeling no pain.  He gave a dopey smile and fell forward
in an unconscious heap of beige.

Then,
the hideous mule painting fell right on top of him.

Jamie
arched a brow.  He’d seen bloody cartoons with more dignity.  “Good news,
love.  You’ve vanquished the grotesque jackass.  …Also, your rotter of an ex is
quite possibly dead.”

He
heard her pushing the dresser out of the way and opening the door a crack. 
“He’s dead?”  She sounded annoyed over that possibility.  “Do you have any idea
how hard that’s going to be to explain to the police?”

“Oh,
if he was dead, we wouldn’t be troubling the authorities about him.  Sadly, the
wanker still seems to be breathing, after all.”  Jamie crouched down next to
Robert, wanting nothing more than to pitch him out a window.  “Donea suppose I
can convince you to finish him off while he’s down, can I?”  He asked
hopefully.

“I’m
not killing anyone, Jamie.”

“But
he’s only going to wake up and cause you more distress.  If you were to…”

“
No
.”

He
made a face at her.  “Fine.”  Problem solving had been a lot more permanent
back when he was three-dimensional.  Letting Robert live was just asking for
trouble.  It seemed obvious to Jamie.  Still, he could tell that Grace wasn’t
going to listen to reason.  “Call the constables and let’s do this the hard
way, then.”  He sighed.

“What
am I going to tell the cops?  That I used a spell on him?  Not even I think
that’s true and I
frigging know it’s true!
”

“The
man reeks of bourbon, Grace.  You’re going to tell them he arrived here drunk,
attacked you, and somehow managed to knock himself out.”

“You
think they’ll believe that?”

“What
else are they going to believe?”  Jamie got to his feet and shot her a triumphant
grin.  “That you defeated him, using nothing but the ghost of a dead pirate and
a magical spell?”

She
winced.  “Yeah…  Good point.”

June
24, 1789-  Around town, they say JMR has a treasure buried somewhere around
here.  Gold, silver, and gems!  All of it hidden away until the Pirate gives it
to his bride.

I’m
wondering if I can convince him to lend me a few diamonds, while he waits for
her to show up.

From
the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth

The
police did indeed believe Grace’s story.

What
other explanation was there, really?

They
carted Robert off to jail, with a lecture on locking her doors and a yellow
pamphlet on restraining orders.  Grace figured her ex would be out again by
morning… assuming he woke up, at all.  That menstrual cramp magic really packed
a wallop in large doses.  She was a little concerned that Robert would stay
unconscious until some handsome prince kissed him awake or something.

Spells
always seemed to go wrong.

“We
should have made sure he couldn’t come after you, again.”  Jamie repeated for
the hundredth time.  It clearly drove him crazy that the cops didn’t execute
Robert right there in her apartment.  He paced back and forth in front of the
bedroom door, like he was afraid someone might try to break in again.  “I donea
like that he’s still breathing.”

“He’s
in a cell for the night, Jamie.  You can relax, for now.”

“What
about for
later?
  Turns out your ‘husband material’ candidate is a
fucking maniac, love.  He
will
be back.” Jamie’s eyes narrowed
thoughtfully.  “We need to buy a musket.”

“I’ll
put it on the grocery list.”

He
didn’t appreciate her sarcasm.  “You should pay me more attention.  I
told
you
he wasn’t a gentleman, but you didn’t listen and now
this
happened.”

“Yeah,
but you also told me
you
weren’t a gentleman, which was a total lie. 
So, you’re still not batting a thousand in that department.”

Jamie
looked confused.  “I’m not a gentleman.”  He made it sound like she’d accused
him of being a sex offender.  “I sometimes have half-hearted gentlemanly
impulses, which I try to ignore, but…”

“Yes,
you absolutely
are
a gentleman.”  Grace interrupted, climbing up onto
her bed again.  She’d changed into clothes before the police arrived, but now
she back in her fuzzy robe.  “You just saved my life, Jamie.”

“You
saved your own life.  I did what I could to help, because you’re mine.”

“No.” 
She shook her head.  “That’s not it, at all.  You didn’t even know me when I
went back in time and you helped me then, too.”

Jamie
gazed at her for a long beat.  “I would always know you, Grace.”

Her
insides dipped at his quiet words, but she kept going.  “I was completely lost
and vulnerable and alone… and all you did was offer to walk me home.  You tried
to protect me.  I don’t think any other pirate would have done that with a
half-dressed, possibly-drunk girl who’d kissed him three minutes after they
met.”

He
pouted a bit at that irrefutable evidence.  “Well, maybe I was plotting
something nefarious and luring you in.”  He muttered.

“Maybe
you’re just a nice guy, under all the come-ons and craziness.”  She shot him a
smile.  “It’s okay.  I won’t tell anyone.”  She clicked on the TV, tuning it to
Haunted High
for him.  “I also won’t blab about your crappy taste in
televisions shows.”  She settled back to watch the thirty-something “teens”
battle supernatural monsters and plan their prom.

Jamie
glanced at the screen, his mouth curving when he saw she’d remembered his
favorite show.  “For you, I wish I
was
gentleman.”  He murmured, looking
back at her with a soft expression.  “I wish I was so many good things for you,
Grace.”

“I
like you just the way you are.  And I’m
going
to save you.”  She made it
a vow.  The possessiveness he felt towards her was contagious, because she was
coming to think of Jamie as
hers. 
She’d do her very best to clear his
name, no matter what it took.  Besides, focusing on solving the murders was a
lot more rewarding than talking about her scumbag ex.  “The key to proving your
innocence is the blood from the crime scenes.  I’m sure of it.  If we can find
evidence from the other murders, I think I can go back and stop them.”

Jamie
hesitated.  “I was thinking just the opposite, really.

“The
opposite?”

“Maybe
we should stop this investigation, before…”

“Stop
it?”  She interrupted.  “Are you kidding?  I just figured out how to clear your
name and you want to just quit?”

“If
it means you’re not placing yourself in danger, than
yes
.  We should
quit.”  His expression was grave.  “I would not have you risk yourself for me,
Grace.  I would not have you risk yourself for
anything
.”  He gestured
to the bedroom door.  “I’m not likely to soon forget that you nearly died right
in front on me!  Do you think I want to take a chance of that happening, again?”

“I’m
doing this.”  She insisted.  “I
have
to, not just for you, but for me. 
Don’t you get it?  I thought this…
ability
took everything from me, last
year.  But, really it’s giving me a chance to help people.  To stop murders
before
they happen.  I need to see it through.  It’s the only way I’m ever going
to get my life back.  This will get
both
our lives back, Jamie.”

He
shook his head.  “It’s not worth the risk.”

“You’d
rather be
hanged
again?”

“Yes.” 
The word was unequivocal.  “I will gladly fade to nothing before I see you
harmed.”

Grace
stared up at him, processing the intrinsic nobility of the man.  He might think
a pirate couldn’t be a gentleman, but she knew better.  “Did you mean it
earlier?”  She asked abruptly.

Jamie’s
eyebrows drew together in confusion.  “Mean what?”

“Did
you mean it when you said you could… um… bring me to… completion, if I gave you
a chance.”

He
stared at her for a long beat, blinking rapidly at the non sequitur.  “You’re
just trying to distract me.”  He rasped, but his eyes drifted down to the
opened V of her bathrobe.

“Kind
of maybe a little bit.  …But I’d also like to know how you could do such a
thing, when no one else has even come close.”  Unable to withstand the
penetrating blue of his eyes, Grace glanced over at the TV, where Liliana-the-banshee-girl
was shopping for her prom gown.  “Ew, she’s not really going to wear that hideous
purple one is she?  Sebastian will hate that.”

Jamie
disregarded
Haunted High,
which no doubt showed his high level of
concentration.  “You truly haven’t come
a’tall
.”  He sounded like he
couldn’t imagine such a thing.  “Not even once in your whole life?”

Grace
flushed and shook her head, wondering if this was such a great idea.  Her body
told her it was the best plan ever, but it was embarrassing to discuss this so
openly, even with Jamie. 
Especially
with Jamie.  He looked more
fascinated with her lackluster sex life than he had with the discovery of
actual time travel.

“Why?” 
He pressed, seemingly baffled.

“My
therapist concluded I had ‘unrealistic expectations about intimacy.’”  She
muttered, hoping he’d just drop it.  “Or, if you want to listen to Robert, I’m
just semi-frigid.”

“Bullshit. 
There’s nothing wrong with you, Grace.  Not a blessed thing.”

Grace
bit down on her lower lip.  “Why has it never happened for me, then?”  She
asked before she could stop herself.  “It happens for everyone else.  Why not
me?”

“Well,
I think that should be obvious.”  Jamie smiled like he knew the answer to every
dirty question ever asked.  “You just hadn’t met the right man.”

She
snorted.  “Let me guess:
You’re
the right man.”

“Yes.” 
He sounded certain.  “I told you, I can make you happy.”

Some
heretofore dormant, pizza-tramp-y part of her brain cheered in anticipation. 
Grace shook her head again, trying to think.  “But you can’t actually touch me,
remember?”

“I
donea have to touch you.”

She
blinked, desperately curious about what he was planning.  “...You don’t?”

“Nope.”
 He gave a predatory smile and eased onto the bed next to her.  “Come on… You
know I can do this, Grace.  You’ve been waiting for me.  We’ve been waiting for
each other
.  You feel it, too.  This connection between us is real.”

She
did feel it.

“Let
me show you what I can do.”  Jamie shifted so his body was even closer to hers,
taking her silence as encouragement.  “What do you really have to lose?  The
worst that can happen is I’m unable to meet all your ‘unrealistic
expectations.’  That would leave you right where you are now.  It seems like
there’s no risk and all reward.”

Grace
swallowed.  “You probably tried that line with every girl in the thirteen
colonies.”

“Nope. 
Just the one I would have married.”

Corny
as it sounded, her heart skipped.  “Jamie, you don’t have to…”

“Take
off your robe.”

Yeah… 
She was totally going to take off her robe.  Surprisingly, the commanding tone
turned her insides to liquid.  Who knew?  If anyone could fix her intimacy
problem, it was Jamie Riordan.  The man had probably invented sex.

Grace’s
hands went to the knot at her waist, pulling it free before she gave herself
time to reconsider.  “Okay, but this isn’t going to work.”  She warned, wanting
him to be prepared for failure.

“You
truly are a pessimistic little thing.  It’s quite adorable.”

“I
just don’t want you to be too disappointed, if you can’t get me… all the way. 
It’s like a mental block or something.”  It was because she’d never been able
to let go with anyone.  Deep down, she knew that.

She’d
never felt safe enough.

“You
should have more faith in me, lass.  Even my bad plans have a proven success
rate in this room.  Besides, bloodthirsty pirates have an inborn talent for
corrupting the innocent…”  Jamie trailed off and muttered a quiet curse, as the
robe slid off her shoulders.  His gaze fixed on her bare breasts and stayed
there.  “Holy God.”

Grace
had a hard time breathing under the intensity of his stare.  “Don’t take this
the wrong way, but you kinda sucked as a bloodthirsty pirate.”  She shrugged
off the robe and tried to focus on something
other
than her nakedness. 
The past seemed as good a topic as any, so the words just poured out of her in
an anxious torrent.  “According to all the textbooks, you just stole from rich
British merchants.”

His
gaze licked over her skin.  “They had the most gold.”  He murmured absently.

“I
think it’s more than that.  You never bothered the helpless or the genuinely
innocent.  …Which, I have to admit, always seemed strange to me considering the
books also said you were a crazed serial killer.”  She winced.  “Crap.  I
probably shouldn’t have brought up the homicide part, right now.”

His
lips twitched.  “I do love the fact you’re a bit of an odd-duck, love.  You have
the most fascinating pillow talk I’ve even encountered.”

“Well,
you’re making me nervous!  History helps me when I’m nervous.”

“By
all means, then.  Let’s talk about my mediocre piracy.”  He agreed in the
world’s most agreeable tone.  “
After
you take off your underwear.”

Grace
swallowed.  “This won’t work.”  She reiterated half-heartedly.

“There’s
that adorable pessimism again.  It truly is becoming a turn on.”

“I’m
serious.  I’ve been dreaming about you since I was fifteen, but not even you
can…”

“Fifteen?” 
Jamie grinned like she’d just handed him the map to an uncharted isle and --God
knew-- he was man who took maps seriously.  “Why that’s quite naughty, Mistress
Rivera.  I’m very impressed.”

“…but
not even you can do this without touching me.”  She finished, disregarding his
commentary.  “It’s impossible.”

Grace
totally believed that.  …But she still found herself slipping her panties down
her legs and tossing them aside.

“That’s
it, my love.”  His gaze centered on the junction of her thighs and Grace felt
it like a physical touch.  “That’s what I wanted to see.”  His tone was
reverent and territorial and it did wonderful things to her insides.  “Let me
get a good look at you, now.”

She
bit back a whimper, her legs obediently parting for him.  Jamie liked that she
followed instructs and he
really
liked the view.  A lot.  “Mine.”  He
whispered reverently.  “Finally.”

They
were the same words he’d used back in 1789 and they turned Grace on even more. 
His possessiveness shouldn’t be nearly so hot.  Her core was getting wetter by
the second and all he was doing was looking at her.  “Oh God…”  For the first
time, she began to believe that he could really do this.