Good Will Ghost Hunting: Hell's Bells [Good Will Ghost Hunting 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (27 page)

With a deep sigh, Will returned to the house.

* * * *

Four days later, Will sat in a front
-
row pew of the same church they’d been married in. Kal was sandwiched between himself and Laura, with Jeff on Laura’s far side. In the row behind them, Aidan and Ryan sat with their hands gently resting on the women’s shoulders, as if comforting them.

They’d chosen to have visitation the night before at the funeral home. For two hours Will sat, trying to stay in physical contact with Kal. Aidan, Jeff, and Ryan hovered close around Laura, but she was actually coping with it quite well and needed no more than simple human kindness and concern.

Unlike Kal, whose grief was so deep she sucked every last spare ounce of energy Will could give her and then some. He was grateful for Ryan and Aidan’s presence. Even Jeff seemed to have a calming effect on her.

Laura had picked a nice photo of her husband, taken a few years earlier. From his warm, friendly smile, you’d never suspect he’d held fire
-
and
-
brimstone views that would normally alienate a goodly chunk of people.

His casket—closed, of course—was draped with flowers. More overflowed around it.

Jeff’s father conducted the service. Will tried to focus on Kal and not be distracted by the mourners around them. He damn sure wasn’t paying attention to the service. It was, to him, a waste of time. All he wanted was to have it over with so he could shuttle Kal and Laura through the graveside service, and then home again for the wake. To get Kal’s healing on track.

He knew he couldn’t rush them.

Kal had not cried since the day her father died. Ryan and Aidan both reassured Will it was just one of many possible normal reactions. Will wasn’t so sure. She still felt emotionally and mentally closed off to him at a fundamental level. Combined with his massive outflow of energy to keep her stable, it worried him.

Was he hindering her grieving by supporting her like that?

Will kept his fingers laced through Kal’s during the entire service. Ryan, Jeff, and Aidan rode with them in the limousine to the cemetery and stood behind the two women for the short internment ceremony. Back at the house, several of Laura’s friends were ready with food and beverages for the mourners. Will settled Kal on the couch and noticed as the afternoon wore on that not only was she not pulling energy from him anymore, but the shell around her soul had thickened and hardened.

She spoke quietly in short, succinct sentences. After most of the mourners had left, she slipped away upstairs to their bedroom. Will followed her.

Kal removed her black dress and hung it up before changing into jeans and a T-shirt. “Just stay downstairs with Mom, please?” she softly asked.

He hugged her, tried to probe her soul, but didn’t want to force the issue. He kissed her forehead. “Lie down, try to rest.”

She nodded.

When he came up two hours later to check on her, she was sound asleep and hadn’t stirred. By eleven o’clock that night, Laura Martin had gone to bed while Will, Ryan, Aidan, and Jeff quietly talked in the kitchen.

Will wrapped his hands around a steaming mug of hot tea. “I don’t know how to help her,” he admitted. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Let the shock wear off,” Aidan suggested. “She’s flat worn out, physically and mentally. Give her a few days to recover her energy. I’m not saying she’ll bounce back. I’m just saying I think she’s dealing the best way she knows how.”

Ryan nodded. “Aidan’s right.”

Aidan’s eyes widened in shock. “Someone write that down.”

“What?” Jeff asked.

Will smiled, but it looked tired. “Ryan admitted Aidan was right about something.”

The men softly laughed.

Will finished his tea. “I need to go up there to her. Thank you
,
guys, seriously, for all of this. I appreciate it. Especially you, Ryan.”

“Write
that
one down,” Ryan gently snarked with a smile.

Jeff didn’t ask out loud
, but his face scrunched up questioningly.
Aidan answered his silent question
.
“Will thanking Ryan. Who’d a thunk?”

* * * *

Bera watched them bury Kal’s father while standing downwind and at a prudent distance from the main funeral gathering. She’d shifted to look like one of the groundskeepers. With the Stooges’ attention on Kal and her mother, they didn’t notice her.

Obviously, with the latest events, unless she got a “donation” from Will or Aidan, she had to find a way to coerce Ryan into doing it. That really put a kink in her plans.
Back to the fucking drawing board.

She shook her head in disgust.
All these years, and
now
he picks to settle down.

Her fucking dumb luck.

Scratch that plan then.

With Ryan around his soul brothers, it would be difficult to sneak her way in. This would require additional planning. Fortunately, she’d taken a few precautions, had a backup hideout. Thank the gods for her cousins in the Selkie Clan. No love lost between them, but Bera had pressed them to fulfill their Clan obligation to help her.

Well, not help. At least they put her up so Ryan couldn’t easily sniff her out. Bera had heard rumors he’d called in Enforcers to track her. If that was the case, time was even shorter than she imagined. She might have to…

A new idea formed. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. Because of Boorman’s influence, she now had the ability to cross through several realms. If she could draw at least one of the Stooges over, she might be able to lay a trap.

That was worth looking into.

She stepped behind a tree and disappeared.

* * * *

The Selkie, Cyadna, looked up from her stove when Bera appeared on her hearth. “Oh. You’re back.” She’d reluctantly agreed to let Bera use her house for a crossing point from Tavares to Earth when Bera invoked Clan ties. The last thing Cyadna wanted was a Tanuki troublemaker darkening her door, but it was that or risk having Boorman’s wrath unleashed on her family.

Bera glared at her. “Look, missy. Don’t fuck with me. You know Boorman’s the winning team in this game. You guys need to side with him instead of the Council.” Bera stepped off the stones and wiped at a smudge on the toe of her red pumps. “Tavares is about to experience a change in leadership. It wouldn’t hurt you to follow me and hedge your bets.”

Bera headed for the door. “And I don’t have to tell you to keep your mouth shut about this, do I?”

“Of course not.” Cyadna wished she could wipe the smug smirk off Bera’s face with a cast
-
iron skillet.

Bera left, slamming the door behind her.

Cyadna seethed. She’d always hated Bera and her ilk. She resented Bera’s pressure to go along with this. It wouldn’t keep the peace
.
I
t would only put her family and Clan on the wrong end of a bad battle.

She turned off the gas under the burner and wiped her hands on her apron. On Tavares, Selkies lived mostly on land, albeit close to water. Earth-residing Clan frequently reversed that trend, preferring the freedom of their other form. Then again, when residing on-Earth they could easily shift form at will instead of being limited to full moons, as on Tavares.

Cyadna knew of others of her kind who quietly wanted to stay out of the war. They wanted to openly support the Council, but Boorman’s rapidly expanding power base and vicious means of keeping order would spell their doom if he took full control.

Perhaps she’d need an on-Earth crossing of her own to make some plans. First, she’d need to gather her people behind her.

She stepped onto her hearth stones and muttered the incantation to take her to her sister’s hearth.

* * * *

Two days later, Bera showed up on Cyadna’s hearth again. How she’d crossed over on-Earth in the first place wasn’t Cyadna’s concern. Bera was a little tipsy.

“Hey, girlfriend!” Bera’s grin chilled Cyadna’s soul. This woman was pure evil, but killing her would only bring Boorman’s wrath directly on her Clan.

Then inspiration struck. “Want some mead?” Cyadna offered.

Bera brightened. “Absolutely! Don’t have to ask me twice!” She stumbled off the hearth and over to the table, where Cyadna filled a
bierkrug
and slid it in front of her. Bera slurped the mead. “This is great! Do you know how fucking great this is?”

“The mead?”

“No!” Bera looked disgusted at Cyadna’s obtuseness. “My plan! Everything’s nearly complete. I’m trying to track down a couple of people here on Tavares to help, but it’ll work this time.”

Despite her urge to throw up, Cyadna sat across from Bera and smiled. “You know, you never did tell me your plan. I thought about what you said the other day. You’re right. I don’t want my family to be on the losing end of this. What do we need to do to stay alive and be left alone?”

The drunk Tanuki grinned. “Now you’re talkin’!” Bera launched into a full explanation of her scheme while Cyadna forced a smile and kept Bera’s mead topped off. By the time Bera finished an hour later, she’d drained all of the mead in the house keg, confirmed most of Cyadna’s suspicions, and cemented the Selkie’s resolve to not let Bera and Boorman’s plot go unchallenged.

She also strongly suspected Boorman was only using Bera for a bit of personal revenge. She’d heard a lot of quietly whispered rumors about how Boorman received his horrific scars and why he never personally crossed on-Earth anymore. Without any proof, she wouldn’t repeat those suspicions.

Bera squinted at the old timepiece on the wall. “Holy crap, it’s that late? I need to go talk to Boorman and tell him what’s up!” She stumbled as she got to her feet, then walked around the table and slapped Cyadna on the back. “Thanks again, cuz. You’re the greatest!” Bera somehow stayed upright as she weaved out the front door.

Alone again, Cyadna stared at her ceiling and blew out a long breath. She would most likely have to give up her home, and her realm, but it was better to do that than to have her people wiped out by a prick with a personality disorder and a raging case of revenge gone bad. Or live with the guilt of more innocent blood spilled when she could have helped stopped it.

Crap.

She tossed the empty bierkrug into the fire and listened as it shattered. Like she would drink out of it again after that Tanuki had used it. How many innocents had to die for Bera’s sickening cause? Bera had already been the instigator of one woman’s death, and it apparently meant nothing to her. Considering she’d also confessed she was willing to murder any children that might challenge her as-yet-to-be-conceived line heir, the woman was certifiably evil in Cyadna’s opinion. Boorman had already well proven his disregard for life many times over.

Cyadna glanced around her home again. She might as well enjoy it while she had it. She might not have it much longer.

She set about making preparations.

* * * *

Kal didn’t want to return to Tampa. Three days after the funeral, her mother insisted. “Honey, it’s over. I’m all right. You’re a phone call away, and you have to get on with your life.”

Will watched but offered no opinion. Frankly, he didn’t know what was right. His instincts told him to go with Laura’s recommendation.

Kal shook her head. “Mom, you need me!”

“No, you need to get back to work. It’s what your father would have wanted.” She hugged her daughter. “Maybe in a month or so I can come down to visit, if that would be okay?”

Will sensed Kal verged on tears, but then she withdrew again, reinforcing the shell around her soul.

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

Laura smiled. “I’m sure.” She turned to Will. “Take her home and get started on your life together.” She winked. “And grandchildren.”

* * * *

Ryan willed himself to stay away from Kal. If he was needed, Will would call him. He felt every shred of her grief through the depths of his own soul, wished he could personally hold and comfort her.

She’s not mine.

That was his silent mantra.

He was at home in Atlanta one evening, reading, when a person appeared even through the barrier he’d erected. He didn’t look up from his book as he set his glass of merlot on the table. “You don’t take hints to stay away very well, do you?” She was one of the few who could pierce his barrier.

He heard her soft sigh, felt her walk over to the couch and stand behind him.

He still didn’t turn.

“You’re a rather melancholy boy, aren’t you?”

“I don’t wish to discuss this, Mother.” He struggled to focus on the printed page before him.

She gently laid her hands on her son’s shoulders. “So much pain in your soul. Doesn’t it wear you out?”

He closed his eyes. “What part of ‘I don’t wish to discuss this’ wasn’t clear?” Persephone was like good mothers everywhere, through time immemorial. They hated seeing their children suffer.

He finally looked at her as she walked around the sofa and sat in one of the chairs. In her current appearance, she looked like a middle
-
aged, albeit well
-
preserved woman, dark blonde hair gently piled on her head. Jeans and a button-up shirt hanging over her pants. A fishing
-
guide shirt, he realized.

Her blue eyes pierced through him. “Amiago, why do you insist on putting yourself through this suffering?”

He slammed the book closed. “Mother, this isn’t exactly a conversation I’d like to have.”

“Which is exactly why we’re having it. I’ve stayed out of your affairs for quite a while now, you must admit. I even understood why you felt the need to walk away from Arnau and Aidan, and I promised I wouldn’t interfere there, either. This is really too much, don’t you think?”