Love Your Entity (7 page)

“I’m also a financial guru,” Neville said.

“What’s got you so full of yourself?” Damon demanded.

“This.” Neville waved a piece of paper at them. “It indicates they didn’t do a thorough title search when the property in question was sold.”

“Is it real?” Damon asked.

“Of course not,” Neville said. “But it looks real enough to gain us some time. Note that I did this before you suggested I come up with another story regarding ownership of the house.”

“Once Sierra’s lawyer comes back won’t he be able to tell this is a fake?” Damon said.

“It was my understanding that he won’t return for two weeks,” Neville said.

Which was all the time Ronan needed. Actually it was longer than he needed. He was on a deadline here with Voz. He only had a limited amount of time to save his sister’s soul. As in mere days.

Damon studied the forged paper. “This will do.”

“Are you a lawyer?” Ronan asked.

“I went to law school. Then I went to war. The American Civil War.”

“That’s before my time,” Ronan said.

“Same here,” Neville said. “I was turned in the eighties when I accused my stockbroker boss of being a greedy bloodsucker. My bad. He was a vampire and he turned me.”

Ronan didn’t talk about when or how he was turned. It wasn’t a topic of conversation he enjoyed, even with other vampires. In fact, he hated the memories.

As was often the case when his thoughts turned to that period, he felt a darkness entomb his soul and the need to move on. Thanking Neville, he grabbed the forged paperwork and made a hasty retreat.

It was so hasty that he almost knocked Sierra down on the sidewalk outside the bar.

Putting his hands out, he steadied her. “Sorry,” he said.

“No, it was as much my fault as yours,” she said. “I was thinking about a scene in my book instead of paying attention to where I was going.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you heading back to the house?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Me too. We might as well walk together.”

“Okay.” Sierra was acutely aware of the man at her side. He had a naturally fluid swagger that was very sexy. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black T-shirt and jeans. He looked as good in clothes as he did out of them. Chiseled cheekbones. Chiseled body.

All of those things increased her attraction to him. Then there was the rumbly sound of his voice that got to her as well. And there was something else, something she couldn’t identify yet. She’d never had a man get under her skin so quickly.

She could count on one hand the number of men she’d been intimate with, including Steve. One had told her she was woefully inexperienced because she hadn’t been open to a threesome. She’d dumped him immediately.

Okay, so maybe she lacked the slutty gene. That didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her. Being this close to Ronan proved that. Every feminine cell in her body was humming and celebrating.

Her brain reminded her that hooking up with him would not be a good move. Her body indicated that any move with Ronan would be good, good, good!

She couldn’t remember what she said during the short trip back to their house. No, not
their
house.
Her
house.

Sierra unlocked the front door but Ronan opened it for her and ushered her inside. The courtly gesture took her by surprise. But even more surprising was finding Ruby in the foyer, clearly frightened and shaking in her corset and silk underwear. “I didn’t do it!” Ruby said.

Chapter Six

Sierra couldn’t reply to Ruby because Ronan was at her side. Instead she mouthed “What?”

Ruby pointed toward Sierra’s bedroom.

Sierra rushed forward. The place was up for grabs. Books, papers, and clothes were all tossed around.

“Not a neatnick, huh?” Ronan said by her side. “You must have been in a hurry to get up and out this morning. Because the room didn’t look like this in the middle of the night.”

“What was he doing here in the middle of the night?” Ruby said.

Sierra ignored her. “I had to return the rental van this morning,” she told Ronan.

“So you threw your books all over the place?” He bent over to pick a few up.

“Nice butt,” Ruby noted.

Sierra had to agree although she didn’t say so.

“That’s okay. I’ll tidy up,” she told Ronan, hurrying him out of the room so she could speak to Ruby in private.

Pressing her back against the closed door, she asked Ruby, “What happened? Who did this?”

“It was Hal. He doesn’t want you here.”

Sierra frowned. “I thought he stayed upstairs.”

“I thought so too. This is the first time he’s come down.”

“Did he hurt you?” Sierra asked.

“I’m a ghost,” Ruby said. “I’m already dead. Besides, I can do a disappearing act. Now I’m here. Now I’m not.” Sure enough, there was no sign of her. Then she suddenly reappeared. “And now I’m back.”

“Where is Hal now?” Sierra demanded.

“He’s not down here.”

Sierra reached for the doorknob.

“Where are you going?” Ruby said.

“To talk to Hal upstairs.”

“He won’t like that,” Ruby said.

“Well, I don’t like him messing with my things,” Sierra said. “I don’t have that many things.”

“You can’t go upstairs.”

“Why not?”

“Because Ronan lives upstairs. That’s his territory. His and Hal’s.”

Sierra paused. “You’re right.” She looked around and then started tidying up. “I need to think of a plan first. Then I’ll go upstairs.”

“Hal is a very powerful ghost,” Ruby said.

“So you’re saying I should
not
go upstairs? Hal invaded my space. Why shouldn’t I invade his?”

“Because he could go all poltergeist on you. Do you have experience dealing with something like that?”

“I’ve read about it,” Sierra said.

“Great. So that’s it? You’ve only read about it?”

“No, that’s not all. I’ve also written about it.”

“Bully for you.”

“I found Hal’s last name.”

“It’s Bergerstock. I could have told you that,” Ruby said.

“Yes, but you didn’t.” Sierra opened her tablet. She was glad that the Wi-Fi was working. One of her distant cousins ahead of her on the inheritance ladder had gotten the house wired for the Internet and then only stayed a day after that. She hadn’t considered that when she’d checked her e-mail first thing that morning on her smartphone. She’d used her phone carrier rather than Wi-Fi to access the Internet in the house.

“What are you doing?” Ruby said.

“A search on the Internet,” Sierra said.

“Who is Mr. Google?”

“Google is a search engine.”

Ruby looked at the thin tablet. “There’s an engine in there?”

“No. It’s done via the computer. That’s what this is.” Sierra pointed to her tablet. “So is that.” She pointed to her laptop.

“And that?” Ruby pointed to Sierra’s smartphone.

“It’s a phone and a camera and a computer. Actually the tablet has a camera too. None of that is important. Stay focused here.”

“Usually that’s my line,” Ruby said.

“I’m not finding anything,” Sierra said.

“That’s not surprising. Capone and his gang liked keeping things quiet. They were good at keeping secrets. And paying off officials.”

Sierra already knew that from the preliminary research she’d done of that period in Chicago. “What about the bootleg tunnels? Have you gone in them?”

“Sure.”

“Since you died?”

“I don’t like it down there and I can only go in the part of the tunnel that is attached to this house.”

“How do you get into the tunnel?”

Ruby shook her head and looked around fearfully. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s forbidden.”

“By whom?”

“By Hal.”

“He’s not the boss of me,” Sierra said.

“He will be if we don’t get rid of him,” Ruby prophesied.

“Then help me. Give me more information. How many girls worked upstairs? What were their names? I can’t remember if you told me this already but did Hal live down here when he was alive? Did he have his family here?”

“He did not have his family here. The main floor was more of a lounge and an office area. Plus the kitchen. Oh and it was also a place for security. We had armed bodyguards around the clock. They used to play billiards in the basement.”

“There are only two bedrooms upstairs,” Sierra said.

“Four of us were assigned here. This was the upper tier. Only the very best—best clients and best prostitutes. One was known as ‘Belle of the Balls’ because she specialized in that part of a man’s anatomy.”

Sierra laughed so hard, she snorted, which made her laugh even more. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she said, “Sorry. Go on.”

“We worked in shifts. Twelve hours on, twelve hours off.”

“Where did you go when you were off duty?”

“I had a little apartment a few miles away. One of Hal’s drivers took me back and forth.”

Something about the way Ruby said that made Sierra look up at her. “What was the name of Hal’s driver?”

“I don’t remember,” the ghost said hurriedly.

Ruby was lying. Sierra wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. She was certain of it.

*   *   *

Sierra was lying. Ronan suspected that she hadn’t told the truth about creating the mess in her bedroom. Her bedroom wasn’t just messy, it looked like it had been trashed by someone searching for something.

His silent questions came fast and furious. If she hadn’t done it, who had? What were they looking for? The key? Who sent them? Did the local vampires know about it? Did Damon?

Sure, Damon had been with Ronan, but in the short time it took Ronan to walk with Sierra from the bar to the house, Damon could have moved with vamp speed ahead of them and searched Sierra’s room.

Was there a connection between Sierra and the key? Was that why only her belongings had been messed up?

Who could he trust? The answer was no one.

Ronan went upstairs to check his stuff. He didn’t have much, a few changes of clothing, that was it. The casket in the basement was on loan from the funeral home courtesy of Damon.

Damon had said the surveillance cameras didn’t work in this house but what if that was a lie? What if they were watching his every move?

“Paranoid much?” Baron Voz said from beside him.

Ronan refused to show how much the Master Vampire’s surprise appearance caught him off guard. Instead, Ronan stoically stood his ground and put up a shield against his thoughts. He hadn’t felt the need to do so sooner because only a Master Vampire could read another vampire’s thoughts and even then only the thoughts of one they’d turned and indentured.

As always, Voz was impeccably dressed in an Armani suit with a hand-tailored, crisp white shirt and a fine burgundy silk tie held in place with a gold tie clasp with his family’s coat of arms on it. A matching ring with the same coat of arms was on his right hand.

Ronan knew that ring well. He had been branded with it on more than one occasion. He could still remember the searing pain, the stench of his flesh burning. As a Master Vampire, Voz had the power to brand his indentured vampires like cattle.

“What are you doing here?” Ronan demanded.

“I thought I’d see how things are progressing.”

“No one can see you,” Ronan said.

“Of course they can.”

“I mean, you mustn’t be seen here by anyone,” Ronan said.

“By
anyone
I presume you mean the sexy redhead downstairs? No problem. Just compel her to forget. Why is she here anyway? She’s not one of us. She’s human.”

“She inherited the house.”

“Get rid of her.”

“I will.”

“Now,”
Voz said.

“No,” Ronan growled. “I’m no longer indentured to you. I don’t have to obey your orders.”

“You do if you want to save your sister’s soul.”

“No. Our agreement was that I find the key and turn it over to you by midnight on February fourteenth. There is no requirement on my part to obey your orders until then.”

“Time is running out,” Voz said. “Ticktock, ticktock.”

“Then leave me alone so I can get back to my search.”

“Or get back to your redhead. Don’t let her distract you,” Voz warned.

“I don’t intend to.”

*   *   *

Since Ruby clammed up and disappeared after Sierra questioned her about the driver, Sierra spent the rest of the day restoring order to her room and working on her book.

At least that was her plan. But when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she couldn’t help herself. She had to go look.

The door was open into Ronan’s room, but he was alone. “Who were you talking to?” she asked.

“Nobody,” he said curtly.

“I heard voices.”

“I was talking to myself.”

“Oh.”

Apparently he could tell she wasn’t buying that answer one hundred percent, because he got an irritated look on his face. “I don’t go nosing around when I hear you talking to yourself.”

“I wasn’t nosing around.”

“The upstairs is mine. We signed an agreement.”

“A
temporary
agreement,” she reminded him.

He waved her words away and glared at her. “Don’t come up here uninvited again.”

Could he have been talking to Hal? Had Ronan been lying when he said he didn’t believe in ghosts? “Has something weird been going on up here?” she demanded.

“What part of ‘mind your own business’ do you not understand?” he said curtly.

“All of it. If you’re involved in something dangerous up here—”

“It’s none of your business,” he interrupted her.

“Yes it is. Because it could endanger me.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You might not be able to stop it.” Especially if Hal the gangster went all poltergeist on them.

“You underestimate me,” he said.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if you experience something strange,” she said.

“Are you worried about me?”

“Just promise me.”

“Define ‘something strange.’”

“Lights flickering on and off or doors slamming or windows opening.”