Love Your Entity (21 page)

“I told them I wanted a musical note on my headstone,” one ghost complained.

“At least you got a headstone. Mine is falling over,” another said.

She could hear them but didn’t see them as clearly as she did Ruby or Hal. Instead these were more vague shapes and images that would come and go. A head here, a body there. Totally
Sleepy Hollow
.

“What’s wrong now?” Ronan demanded.

“There are a lot of spirits here.” And they were making themselves known. “It’s hard to focus.”

“Try harder. Pretend you’re doing research for your book. As long as it doesn’t involve vampires or Vamptown, your characters could have sex in a cemetery.”

“Nicki would never have sex in a cemetery,” Sierra said. “She’s much too classy for that.”

“I read your books. She’s not that classy.”

“Yes she is!” Sierra’s teeth were starting to chatter. There was no point arguing with Ronan. She brought out her trusty flashlight. A strange mist was rising from the ground all around them. Angels wept atop headstones at an angle befitting the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Sierra had always wanted to go to Italy someday. Now she just wanted to get out of this cemetery.

Sierra shrieked and her heart almost jumped out of her chest as her flashlight beam picked up a face staring at her. It wasn’t a ghost. It was Tanya.

“What are you two doing in a cemetery?” Tanya asked. “Is this research for your next book?”

“What are you doing here?” Sierra asked shakily.

“Following you, but I got lost along the way. So fill me in,” Tanya said. “Why are we here?”

“Research,” Sierra said.

Tanya nodded and clutched her faux-fur coat closer. “I knew it. Tell me what we’re looking for.”

“Hal Bergerstock’s grave.” Sierra had found a photo of Hal’s headstone in the material Mary Nolan had shared under pressure.

“Want me to dig it up for you?” Tanya offered eagerly.

“No!” Sierra emphatically shook her head. “The grave should be this way.” She squinted in the increasing misty fog, trying to read the names on the headstones they passed. So intently was she focused that she almost ran right into Damon, who suddenly stood in front of her, appearing out of nowhere.

“What the hell is going on here?” Damon demanded.

“We’re digging up Hal’s grave,” Tanya said cheerfully. “We could use some help.”

Damon shot a dark look at Sierra. “Was this your idea?”

“Uh.” She wasn’t sure how to answer that one. “How did you know we were here?”

“We monitor unusual activity in all the area cemeteries,” Damon said.

“In case of a zombie uprising or something?” Sierra asked.

“Or something.” Damon turned to Ronan. “Would you care to make a comment here?”

“No.” Ronan’s eyes gleamed with an unnatural light.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me there’s no need for concern, right?”

“Right,” Ronan said.

“And I should trust an indentured vampire because?” Damon said.

Since Ronan stubbornly remained silent, Sierra spoke up. “Because he’s telling the truth.”

“He hasn’t said anything,” Damon pointed out. “If you make trouble, I swear—”

“Don’t swear in a cemetery.” Tanya looked around nervously. “It’s bad luck.”

Tanya wasn’t the only nervous one. Sierra was sensing several dark presences growing in power. The fog was rapidly increasing, billowing up and separating her from the sparring vampires.

Sierra felt as if she were being pulled far away. She was suddenly alone. She swayed and had to reach for a nearby heart-shaped headstone for support. Because standing right before her was her worst nightmare—her father.

Chapter Seventeen

“I told you I’d come after you,” her father said, his voice reptilian.

Stunned, Sierra dropped her flashlight. Her heart skittered in fear as she watched it roll over a grave before coming to a halt against a headstone.

ROY BARNES.

She could see the letters clearly even without artificial illumination. Leaning down, she quickly scooped up the flashlight and cradled it against her body the way she had cradled Boo as a kid. Once she realized what she was doing, she aimed the flashlight at Roy.

From the top of his buzz-cut shorn head to his size twelve construction boots, he looked the way she remembered him—big and mean. They said he’d had his heart attack during a bar fight and died on the spot. He sure as hell looked ready to do battle right now.

“You don’t scare me,” she said.

“Liar.”

His accusation, while true, hit her the wrong way, firing up her anger. “Bully,” she shot back. “Shit-faced bastard!”

“That’s no way to talk to your father,” he roared.

“You’re not my father. You never were. You provided sperm, that’s all. Nothing else. Not support, not kindness. Certainly not love.”

“I supported you and your bitch of a mother for five years.”

“You beat and intimidated us.”

“What do you know?” he scoffed. “You were just a kid.”

“I know enough.” She eyed him with extreme suspicion. “I thought spirits in hell couldn’t return to this world.”

“Apparently they can if you stand in their cemetery dealing with other spirits and prying open caskets,” he mocked her.

She’d had enough. “You aren’t welcome here. So go back to that hellhole you crawled out of.”

He laughed. He had the gall to actually laugh.

“Go!” she bellowed at him. “Begone!”

He drifted closer.

Sierra felt frozen in place. She refused to back down. Evil spirits like him fed on fear. Even as a human, he’d fed on fear. So she displayed none.

Her showdown with him continued for a moment or two before he started to waver in front of her, then slowly dematerialized. Like the Cheshire cat, only his face remained visible, his eyes glaring at her with vicious intent. Finally that too was gone.

She almost sank to the ground in relief.

“Sierra! Where are you? Come back,” Ronan cried out.

The mist cleared, allowing her to find her way back to Ronan and his vampire friends. They stood beside the casket they’d just dug up.

Seeing the disapproval on Sierra’s face, Ronan said, “It’s the only way to get rid of Hal.”

Sierra was still trying to recover from her confrontation with her father. She certainly didn’t need to be staring inside a casket at a putrid pile of bones covered in maggots. She’d seen enough horror movies to know the risks here.

Dizziness threatened to overcome her. The sheer number of spirits nearby was nearly overwhelming. She took several steps back from the open gaping hole in the ground, suddenly terrified that she was going to either fall in or be yanked into it.

“Open it!” Tanya said eagerly.

Sierra shut her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look.

“What the hell?” Ronan’s voice was rough with disbelief.

“It’s empty,” Tanya said.

Sierra cracked her eyes open a smidge. “No body?”

“No body,” Ronan confirmed grimly.

“So this was a dead end, no pun intended,” Damon drawled.

“Then where is Hal’s body?” Sierra asked.

“Why do we care?” Tanya asked. “Is this for your next book? It must be, right? If you’re going to mention my assistance in the acknowledgments, please make sure you spell my name correctly.”

“Nobody is going to be listed in any book,” Damon said emphatically.

“You’ve had a thing against books since that incident with Zoe,” Tanya said.

“What do we do now?” Sierra asked.

“We keep checking.” Ronan felt along the satin padding.

“Hal’s body won’t fit in the padding,” Tanya said.

Sierra knew he was looking for a key or something to indicate the location of the treasure that Hal was so fiercely protecting.

“Sierra and I can wrap things up from here,” Ronan assured Damon. “We won’t be long.”

Damon looked down at his cell phone. “Good. Because I’m needed elsewhere.”

“I’m not,” Tanya said.

“Yes you are.” Damon took Tanya by the arm and the two of them departed with vamp speed.

As Ronan quickly checked the lining of the coffin, Sierra was distracted by another spirit nearby. He was a young man wearing dark pants and a white shirt. She could see him clearly. His dark hair was slicked back in the style of the twenties.

“Have you seen Ruby?” he asked.

Sierra nodded. Going on a hunch, she asked, “Are you Johnny?”

The ghost nodded. “I’ve been waiting for her. Why is she still at the house? I can’t go there.”

Sierra didn’t know how long she’d have with Johnny. His energy was fading quickly. Unlike Ruby, he wasn’t accustomed to materializing.

“Did you kill Hal? Do you know where his body is? What do you know about the treasure?” Sierra asked in a rush.

But Johnny was gone.

“Another ghost?” Ronan asked.

Sierra nodded.

“I found something.” Ronan held up a piece of paper and quickly studied it before putting it in his pocket.

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you later. First I’ve got to return the casket to its grave.” He did so with amazing ease and speed.

“It still looks like a fresh grave,” Sierra said.

An instant later, it was covered with grass as it had been before. Ronan looked down at his smartphone where a beep indicated a new text. “Damon asked Zoe to return the grave site to the way it was.”

“So not only does Zoe lend us her car, she cleans up our mess again,” Sierra said. “Talk about a nice neighbor.” She paused at the sudden strong smell of cigar smoke. “Hal?” she whispered, looking around.

The surrounding ghosts had faded away, replaced by a man wearing a stylish and expensive-looking suit. He had dark hair and a narrow weasel-like face with sunken eyes of an indeterminate color. He gave her the creeps and that was saying a lot considering what she’d already been through that night.

“I’m Baron Voz,” he said.

Right. Of course he was. All the nightmare demons seemed to be coming out of the darkness in this cemetery. First she’d had a confrontation with her father and now here was this man who had turned Ronan.

“I see you know who I am,” Voz said.

“And
what
you are,” she said.

Voz shook his head. “Tsk-tsk, Ronan. You really should learn to keep your mouth shut.”

Ronan instantly stepped in front of Sierra as he had when the clock and mirror had come flying at her. “Leave her alone.”

“You bonded with her.”

Ronan neither confirmed nor denied Voz’s statement.

“You only have two days remaining to find the key,” Voz said.

“It’s not a fair agreement,” Sierra said. “You didn’t provide enough information. You’ve set Ronan up to fail.”

The moment she said those last words, she knew it was a mistake. Ronan stiffened and anger radiated from him. He may actually have growled.

Voz laughed. “Even this weak human thinks you will fail.”

“That’s not an option,” Ronan said.

“No, it’s a foregone conclusion,” Voz said. “You will fail and be indentured to me forever.”

Sierra wanted to say that she would help Ronan, that he wasn’t alone, but knew that wouldn’t go over well so she kept silent.

“If you are still bonded with him when the deadline comes, then I get you too,” Voz told Sierra. “Two for the price of one. Well done.” Reading the fear on her face, he added, “Not feeling so smart now, are you? You should have run away the minute you saw Ronan in the house. But hey, it’s your funeral. One of the lines from your book, I believe?” Voz mocked. He tugged on his cuff. “Not that I read that kind of pulp fiction.”

If Sierra wasn’t so scared, she’d be really pissed right now. How dare he insult her work. As soon as she could breathe, she was going to tell him a thing or two. He disappeared before she could do so.

Ronan instantly turned to face her. “I had no idea.”

“He insulted my book!”

“Forget that. You are at risk because of me.”

“I was already at risk from Hal.”

“Hal is a flea compared to Voz.”

“Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration.” Looking at the spirits regathering all around, watching them, she said, “Let’s get out of here.”

The spirits moved forward.

“Don’t even think of following us,” she warned them. “This guy is a vampire and he doesn’t like ghosts.”

Ronan bared his fangs and the place cleared out. Except for Johnny. His image was weak but his voice was strong. “Tell Ruby I love her.”

Sierra remained quiet for most of the drive home. Ronan was so tall he barely fit in Zoe’s red Mini. She doubted he even had a license. No way was she letting him drive. At least that had been her intention until they’d gotten to the car and her hands shook so badly she couldn’t open the damn door.

So here she was being driven by a surly vampire back to a home haunted by violent ghosts. What joy. Not.

Sierra was a mess. Confronting her father that way had taken more courage than she thought she possessed. And then she’d had to face Ronan’s nemesis.

She’d let her defenses down once Ronan had assured her that he wasn’t going to turn her into a vampire. The other vampires in Vamptown had backed up his claim and made a similar one themselves.

But they didn’t know about Voz.

Finally she spoke up. “You need more help than I can give you,” she said bluntly.

“I’ve got the map,” Ronan told her. “I found it in the lining of the casket.”

“Goody for you,” she said sarcastically, angered by the way he’d ignored her comment.

“Don’t you get it? This will lead me to the treasure and the key for Voz.”

“How do you even know that the key is connected with Hal’s treasure?” she said.

“It has to be. What are the odds of the house having two treasures?”

“About the same as the entire neighborhood being populated with vampires,” she shot back.

Ronan was quiet for a few minutes. “Our vampire bond was an accident,” he reminded her.

“Don’t bother. I’ve heard it before.” She drew a deep breath, fighting the urge to curl up into a fetal position. “Listen, the bottom line here is that you have to have your vampire friends help you with this because I am not joining your vampire gang.”