The Ghost Hunter (13 page)

“Cristian,” she whispered, her voice hesitant and uncertain.

Kneeling, he focused on the soft blue material shielding her femininity. Slowly, he slid his fingers over her, tracing the triangular patch of satin. Ashley sucked in a sharp breath, sinking against the wall as if her knees would not hold her. Cristian swallowed hard, his pulse racing swiftly, urging him to continue. He slid his finger under the elastic band and pulled the material down. His cock hardened, his erection pulsing painfully against his shorts.

Before she could protest, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the soft curls. She moaned, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Unable to resist the taunting sensuality of her scent, he leaned forward and slid his tongue between her damp folds. She tasted of warm honey.

“Oh God,” she whispered, trembling. “Cristian, please, no. We can’t do this.”

He ignored her words and stroked her very being, tasting, sucking, while his hands cupped her arse and drew her closer. Hell, she tasted better than he thought she would. He’d wanted to ease his torment, but he’d only just added to his desire. Between her scent and her taste, he thought he might come. She whimpered, her knees buckling, but he held her upright. He knew she was on the verge of losing control. His tongue found that nub, and swept across the sensitive spot.

Ashley cried out, her fingers tightening into his shoulders. Her entire body trembled, a violent shiver that reached down to his very soul. He pulled back, breathing harshly as he rested the side of his face against her smooth thigh.
 

“You… you shouldn’t have done that.” She pushed frantically at his shoulders.

Cristian stood, towering over her, surprised his own legs didn’t give out. He wanted more, damn it all. Wanted to shove his erection into her tight passage. His hands curled on either side of her head, his forearms braced against the wall as she pulled up her shorts.

“Ye wanted that as much as I.”

A fiery blush shot straight to her cheeks. “This is wrong.”

And she was right. It was wrong. It was wrong what he’d done, and it was wrong that he wanted her more than he wanted life. He pulled away, her honey taste still dancing over his tongue, tormenting his already heated body. Lord, he could taste her forever.

“Go then,” he said. “Run away, after all, it’s what you do best, isn’t it?”

That hazel gaze flashed with surprise, then hurt. He’d crushed her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. If she didn’t leave, he’d take her completely, and that couldn’t happen. She slipped away from him, and he forced himself not to pull her back. Without a word, she scooped up her shirt and bolted across the room, disappearing into the hall.

Chapter 15

Ashley couldn’t think about Cristian without wanting to jump on a plane headed to anywhere. Hell, without wanting to throw herself from the nearest mountain and pray for a quick death. With her luck she’d linger, laying there with only the memory of the man’s mouth on her lips, her breasts, her…

Lord, she couldn’t think about it. She waved her hand in front of her face, growing uncomfortably hot. Outside the drive lay empty, his motorcycle gone. The parlor she stood in showed no signs of the sinful way she’d behaved.

Well, technically, he’d started it. But still, she’d let him touch her that way. She was way more mental than she’d thought. But then again, it’d been so long since anyone had kissed her like that, anyone had shown so much interest in her body, in
her.
Her fiancé had been more interested in his bank account and stocks.

Her legs still trembled when she thought of Cristian’s touch. With a long sigh, she turned away from the window. Cristian had left almost immediately that morning, tearing down the drive like she’d been picking out the china pattern for their wedding.

A loud thud sounded on the heavy wooden door. Thoughts of Cristian eagerly forgotten, Ashley made her way into the foyer. She knew once she opened that door, there was no going back, but what choice did she have?

Taking in a deep breath, she pulled the door wide. The rising sun burst through the portal and highlighted dust particles floating in the foyer. She really needed to clean. But it was hard to find time, what, with fighting off Cristian and searching for lost ghosts.

“Hey,” Camile said in way of a greeting.

“Thanks for coming.”

Camile hesitated on the front stoop. After their last meeting, Ashley didn’t blame the woman for being reluctant to enter her House of Horrors. Yet, she’d known she’d come, the woman was a fanatic about the paranormal and obviously loved a good mystery. But by calling her, Ashley had had to admit to herself, and basically to the world, that she was
different
.

Camile hefted her burlap bag onto her narrow shoulders. “Sure, what’s the problem?”

“Someone’s stealing my ghosts,” Ashley burst out.

Camile laughed, shaking her head, but there was only kindness and understanding in her green eyes. “I can honestly say I’ve never heard that before.”

Ashley wished she could laugh with such ease. Part of her wanted to laugh, but most of her wanted to cry. She felt helpless, completely lacking of control where her life was concerned. Frankly, she was damn tired of feeling that way. “Another ghost disappeared.”
 

Camile frowned, her mood sobering. “I see.”

“Rachel,” Ashley explained. “She was a maid, I think during the late 1800s, early 1900s. Not sure.” Ashley started toward the steps that would take them to the second floor, Camile following. Maggie had appeared in her room early that morning, in a panic.
“She’s gone. Vanished. We’ve tried everything and can’t find her.”

“You think she went to the other side?”

They moved up the steps, the floorboards creaking out a warning. “I guess, I’m not sure where else.” So why did the words just not feel right? Because everyone had told her that ghosts didn’t want to go onto the other side. The problem was, she didn’t trust
everyone
.

“Well, then, what’s the problem?” Camile asked.

Ashley took in a deep breath and hoped she’d believe her. “You see, ghosts don’t want to go to the other side.”

Camile followed her down the hall. “Why’s that?”

She looked like she believed her about as much as Ashley had believed Cristian when he’d told her ghosts were evil. She didn’t look forward to explaining what she’d uncovered. Camile might not be as accepting as Ashley had been. “They’re not all evil, don’t get me wrong. But apparently most ghosts have done something bad while alive. When you go to the afterlife you have to atone for your sins.”

They moved into Ashley’s bedroom and she shut the door securely behind them, not wanting Cristian to overhear, if he should decide to come home.

“Like purgatory?” Camile asked, her curious gaze surveying the space.

Ashley stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, wondering what Camile would gather from her décor. Chair, bed, fireplace, a few knickknacks and not much of her sparkling personality. She’d never been one for collecting. Decorating felt too permanent and she’d always been on the move…running from life. Damn, but Cristian was right and she hated that fact.

“Ashley?” Camile interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh, sorry.” Ashley raked her hair from her face, clasping the back of her head. “Yeah, sort of. Anyway, I think it’s been hyped up so much that they fear going to the other side and being punished.”

Camile settled on the edge of her bed. “So they stay here.”

“Yeah.” Ashley stuffed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and waited for the witch to process the information. Would she refuse to help, knowing the ghosts weren’t exactly angels?

Camile shook her head. “Balls, this is…this is bloody interesting.”

 
Relief was sweet and welcome. Thank God she believed her. Ashley’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Yeah, so anyway, my ghosts were adamant they didn’t want to go onto the other side. Yet, two are missing. So why the change of heart?”

Camile nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

Ashley shrugged. “Of course, maybe they changed their minds and decided to go. But that’s highly unlikely. The only other alternative is…” She waited a moment, wondering if she’d sound totally paranoid. She was so used to keeping her secrets close that it was hard for her to just come out with the truth.

“Yeah?” Camile urged.

“Maybe someone forced them to go.”

Her eyes widened. “
God
forced them?”

Ashley hadn’t been thinking of God. Could be. But for some reason that didn’t fit right. Why would God waste her time with some pathetic ghosts? “Or someone else. Maybe another ghost? Hell, I don’t know.”

Slowly, Camile set her bag on the mattress, so slowly, so purposefully that Ashley knew she was weighing her next words carefully. “There’s something I didn’t tell you…about your tarot cards.”

Ashley couldn’t say she was surprised. She’d known something was up, but hadn’t wanted to deal with the possibilities. Camile’s gaze focused on her, reading her face as if judging her ability to handle what she’d say next. She should have known those cards were a bad idea. Obviously it wasn’t good news. Ashley’s heart started hammering wildly in her chest.

Feeling light-headed, she settled in the chair next to the fireplace, afraid she might do something ridiculous, like faint. “Okay.”

Camile took her lower lip between her teeth, the woman’s eyes dancing with uncertainty …a worry that frightened Ashley more than she wanted to admit. “There’s something coming, Ashley. A battle of sorts.”

The words sank into her gut, invading each cell with icy terror. But hadn’t she known since the moment she’d arrived that something was wrong with this place? Still, to hear the words from someone else made it all the more real.

Camile shook her head, playing with the strap of her bag. “I don’t know when, or what or why, but it is coming.”

Ashley wanted to laugh at her vague response, but she couldn’t manage to make a sound. She could barely manage to breathe. Her body and mind had grown oddly numb.

“It’s why I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t know enough of the details. But with this,” she looked around the room, “the disappearance of your ghosts…it all seems odd and I can’t help but wonder if they’re related.”

Overwhelmed, Ashley held up her hands, palms out, stopping the woman from speaking further. She needed to find Dad. She couldn’t manage whatever else was lurking in the background. One crazy situation at a time. Maybe it was denial, but she had to survive however she could. “We’ll deal with that later. For now, I have to find my ghosts.”

The spirits had been here when her dad had stayed; they were the only ones who could give her answers to his disappearance.

Camile nodded and seemed almost as relieved as Ashley to change the subject. “Right, so what do you want from me?”

Ashley paced the room, surprised her trembling legs could hold her weight. She’d been up practically half the night thinking about Cristian and how he’d seemed to take over her body and soul so easily. Finally, she’d determined the best thing was to stay on course; figure out what had happened to her dad and leave. Avoid Cristian at all costs. But that was going to be easier said than done.
  

“I don’t know,” Ashley said. “Is there anyway to talk to those ghosts that went onto the other side? See if they have any information?”

Camile frowned. “Probably not if they’re in purgatory.”

Ashley sighed and paced to the windows overlooking the overgrown lawn. She knew two things: her ghosts were disappearing and Cristian was her suspect. After all, the behavior had started with his arrival. Mad Rose was friends with Cristian. If Camile knew the man too, Ashley couldn’t very well accuse him of sending her ghosts away. How much could she trust her new friend?

“Ashley, we need to talk,” Devon appeared in the middle of the room.

She was becoming so used to the spirits, that she wasn’t the least surprised to see him. Ashley slid Camile a glance, but the witch was merely sitting there staring blankly at the fireplace. She hadn’t heard nor noticed Devon’s sudden presence.

“Not now,” she whispered.
 

Camile jerked her head toward Ashley. “You don’t want to do anything right now?”

She sighed. “No, never mind. Forget what I said.”

Camile narrowed her eyes and for one long moment, she merely stared at Ashley. Then slowly, she looked toward Devon. Ashley sucked in a sharp breath. Camile lifted her hands and waved them through the air. She looked ridiculous, but didn’t seem to care. She’d sensed something and was determined to find it.
 

Devon quirked a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is she mad?”

Ashley frowned at him. If anyone was crazy, it was her for wanting Camile to do a spell, for coming here, for letting Cristian touch her that way.
 

“Cold air,” Camile whispered. “Here.” She stepped closer to Devon. “Balls. I think there’s a ghost in here.” She faced Ashley, her eyes wide with excitement “Do you feel the cold air?”