High Noon (Between the Veils Series, Book Two) (10 page)

Blake stopped, sucking in an exasperated breath. “Damn.”

Payton touched his shoulder. “You don’t sound happy. I thought all you needed to know was who he was and where he was buried? You mentioned something about burning the body. Isn’t that his connection to our side?”

He turned to look at her. “If his body is in a marked grave, his spirit shouldn’t be bound to this plane. It should be at rest. Makes me wonder if part of it is attached to something else, like the knife he used to stab his victims.”

“He can be bound to a knife?”

“It happens. When an object becomes an extension of a person, it can hold some of their spiritual energy after they die. And since there really isn’t anything else that would have survived this long, it’s got to be the binding object.” He cursed as he shook his head. “They should have buried the damn thing with him.”

She glanced back at the screen, reading more of the story. “But it doesn’t say what happened to the knife, only that the sheriff had it.”

“Then our work isn’t done until we find out where the hell it went. It has to be in the town somewhere, or he wouldn’t have been able to target you. Your gallery is on the edge of town. Maybe it was part of his ranch land or something and that’s why he picked you.” Blake flashed her a sexy smile. “Or maybe he just knows a beautiful woman when he sees one and doesn’t want to let go.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint him, but I’ve already found what I’m looking for, so he’ll just have to learn to take no for an answer.”

Fire burned in Blake’s eyes as he leaned in, brushing his mouth across hers. “I don’t plan on giving him a choice.”

He closed the distance, claiming her mouth in a kiss that she swore set her hair on fire. It was raw, demanding, and she knew he was trying to show her the certainty of his words.

A throat cleared off to their right and they pulled back, glancing toward the sound. A tall woman with square glasses gave them a curt nod before walking toward another area of the library. Heat burned a line along her cheeks as Blake smiled at her.

“Guess public displays of affection aren’t her thing.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her nose. “We should go through the rest of these files. See if we can find out what the sheriff did with that knife.”

“What if there’s no record of it?”

“Then I go door to door through the town until I find someone who knows. The bastard is going down, Payton, and this time, he’s staying down.”

Blake cursed and ran a weary hand through his hair. They’d been searching through microfilms and old papers for nearly two hours, but hadn’t found anything remotely useful. If there was a story about the infamous knife, they hadn’t found it. He scrubbed his hand down his face, hoping the ache across the bridge of his nose didn’t spread. Fatigue weighed heavy on his shoulders as he reran their options in his head. He could drag Payton away, but he wasn’t convinced that was a viable solution. If this Dalton character had tied himself to Payton’s energy, then it was only a matter of time before he followed them, regardless of how far they ran. Then there was the chance that he’d claim a different soul and get free.

He clenched his jaw as he scanned the library. He’d fully expected the evil apparition to appear in the middle of the room, tendrils of black mist curling across the floor. While Blake had no doubt the ghost’s latest appearance had taken a vast amount of energy, he also knew they’d far from bested it.

“Hey, you okay?”

Payton brushed a hand along his jaw, her small fingers like brands to his skin. God help him but he was lost and, with the way he felt, he didn’t care if he ever got found.

He gazed into her eyes, loving how the blue deepened with her desire. “Fine.”

She tilted her head. She wasn’t buying it. “If you’re going to try and lie to me, you could at least make it sound convincing.”

He sighed. “I didn’t lie. I’m fine, I’m just frustrated.” He pushed a pile of papers across the table. “We’ve gone through fifty years of old newspapers and reports. We’re running out of time.” He glanced around the room again. “I’m actually surprised we’ve gone this long without incident. We need to move somewhere safer, and soon.”

“But we still don’t know where the knife is. What good is running if he can just follow us?”

“Maybe it isn’t the knife at all. Maybe I’m wrong and it’s as simple as burning his bones.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them to gaze into her eyes. “We need to get back on hallowed ground. Keep you safe until I can visit the gravesite and get a better idea what we might be up against.”

“I sincerely doubt you’re wrong very often, and our cowboy seems to dislike you as much as he likes me. If it’s not safe for me to go traipsing around town then it can’t be for you, either.”

“It’s not my soul he wants.”

She cupped his face. “But I do, and preferably in one piece.”

He placed his hands over hers when a shadow crossed their table. Blake turned, reaching for a bottle of holy water only to exhale in relief. The same bookish librarian with glasses was standing beside them, her arms crossed, her mouth turned down at the edges.

She released an irritated snort. “Is there something you need help with or did you two just come in here to kiss?”

Blake resisted the sarcastic comment that threatened to burst free. From the woman’s expression, he doubted she’d have much of a sense of humor. “We’re doing research.”

“On what? The human anatomy?”

He chuckled. Maybe he’d misread her. “Actually we’re trying to gather information on a previous citizen of Virginia City. A Mr. Ted Dalton.”

The woman arched an eyebrow. “The crazy old rancher who killed a bunch of people back in the late 1800s? Now, why on Earth would you be interested in an old relic like him?”

Blake surveyed the woman. Her lips resembled a tight line across her face, and her eyes were narrowed behind her dark-rimmed glasses. The sides of her cheeks looked pinched as she stared at them, waiting.

He took a deep breath, knowing she wouldn’t believe anything other than the truth. “What would you say if I told you we were hoping to rid the town of his unwanted ghost?”

A furrow crossed her brow before the hint of a smile tugged one corner of her lips. “That’s where I recognize you from. You’re one of those Smith boys that came through this way a few years back. I’ve got a sister who lives in Virginia City. She said you two made one hell of a mess by the time you were done hunting those ghosts you were chasing.”

Blake grinned. “It’s been closer to five, and technically, Avery made the mess. I was the one who tried to smooth things over.”

The woman snorted. “I heard the sheriff gave you both a warning to stay clear of his town. From the sounds of things, you aren’t listening.”

Payton grabbed his arm. “The sheriff ran you out of town?”

“He didn’t run us out of town. He simply suggested rather strongly that we not make a habit of coming back.”

“Jesus, Blake! Why the hell would you come here when you know you’re not welcome? You could get thrown in jail if the sheriff even sees you.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them in his as he looked her in the eyes. “Do you honestly think something that insignificant would stop me from helping you? Payton, I’ve been harboring a crush on you since I was seventeen. Nothing short of an apocalyptic cataclysm would have held me back.” He took a deep breath, knowing he’d already admitted too much. “Let’s just focus on solving this little ghost problem before our friend finds us and I’m left with another mess to clean up.” He glanced back at the librarian. “I don’t suppose you know what happened to Mr. Dalton’s knife?”

“That cursed piece of steel?” She waved her hand in the air as if dismissing the idea. “It’s part of an exhibit above the bar at the old Washoe Club, but I wouldn’t recommend touching it. Everyone who lays even a finger on that bloodied knife gets hurt. My sister saw old man Peters get tossed across the room by some black mist after twirling that knife around like it was a toy.” She shook her head. “Dark energy, I tell you.”

“Sound exactly like what we’re looking for.” He nodded at Payton. “That’s our cue to leave, sweetheart.”

Payton nodded, thanking the lady as she walked by. Blake followed suit, getting close to the stairs when a cold shiver raced down his spine. He reacted without thinking, lunging at Payton and knocking them both to the floor just as a series of books flew through the air above their heads, landing in a heap beside them. A scream sounded behind him and he glanced over his shoulder just as the librarian ran for the elevator, frantically pushing on the button as a dark mass hovered over the table where they’d been sitting. She gave them a frightened nod as she stepped in, disappearing behind the silver doors.

The computer screen flared brightly, then blinked out, dimming the room ever so slightly. Blake cursed, knowing the apparition had drained the machine of its energy, which meant they were far from finished.

He pushed to his feet, taking Payton with him as the mass whirled in a circle, gradually gaining substance. His spurs jingled loudly in the still air as he appeared to walk out of the mist, his ghostly form wavering in and out of focus.

He pointed at Payton as his mouth twisted into an angry snarl. “Mine!”

“Not bloody likely, Dalton.” Blake reached under his jacket, pressing the lever on the tube as he raised it to his waist.

The spark sent a burst of bright light through the room before a cloud of white exploded in the air, raining a mist of white toward the ghost. The creature bellowed and vanished, reappearing in front of Blake with its arms extended, shoving him backward. Payton’s hand tore free from his as he careened into one of the bookshelves, knocking the shelf over. Payton screamed in the background followed by an ungodly howl.

Pain blossomed through Blake’s back and shoulders, making the room spin as he rolled off to his right, staggering to his feet. Payton ran toward him, an empty bottle of holy water in her hand. He reached for the tube again, but Payton got to him first, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the emergency exit on the far side of the room. He stumbled behind her, trying to shake off the fuzziness, when more books bounced off the wall behind him, tracking their path with deadly accuracy.

He glanced back. Dalton’s form still stalked across the library, only there were burnt patches spread across his body from the water. The spirit waved its hand, tipping another shelf. Blake dodged to his right, pulling Payton out of the way as the shelf impacted the wall, chipping the paint and sending a small cloud of drywall dust into the air. He caught her as the sudden shift threw her off balance. Their bodies collided for one glorious second before he spun around, clearing the downed shelf and opening the steel door. He shoved Payton through, closing it as more debris swirled through the air at them.

The dull impact of the objects on the other side of the door echoed through the stairwell, but the tapping of their boots along the metal stairs quickly crushed it as they headed for the ground floor. The sudden stillness accentuated the raspy tone of their breath as they rounded each floor, finally reaching the door. Blake skidded to a halt, pulling Payton behind him as he checked the stairwell before palming the handle. He drew a sharp breath then opened the door, peering out into the alley. A light wind rustled the leaves, blowing small bits of dirt across the road. He clenched his jaw, squeezing her hand once before bolting into the street and angling toward the truck.

The metal door slammed shut behind them, the loud impact reverberating off the brick walls. Blake cursed and pushed harder, though he wasn’t convinced even the iron would hold it off for long. They needed to end this.

But not before he knew Payton was safe.

He turned right at the next street, barely pausing to check for traffic before running across and clicking open the truck. He released Payton’s hand as he shoved her inside, diving into the backseat. A hand wrapped around his ankle, yanking him backward. He clawed at the seats, trying to find purchase on the smooth leather, when Payton jumped on top of him, tossing a handful of salt at the ghost.

Dalton roared, billowing upward in a swirl of black before dissipating, nothing but the echoed memory of his growl lingering in the air. Blake collapsed on the seats, wincing at the burning sensation building along his leg when Payton gasped.

“God damn, Blake. It gouged your leg.”

She shuffled off him and raised his leg, baring the red slash along his skin. He shrugged it off, snagging her hand and pulling her down beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as his heart hammered in his chest.

“Jesus, sweetheart. When that bastard tossed me across the room…I thought he’d gotten you.”

Her breath panted across his shoulder, the rhythmic motion soothing some of his nerves. It wasn’t too late. He still had a chance to end this.

“Guess I’m not Daphne after all.”

He laughed, easing her back then claiming her mouth, relishing the soft press of her lips and how her body molded to his. This was where he belonged, and he wasn’t about to let anything spoil his plans. He dropped a gentle kiss on her lips as he helped her up, jumping into the front seat as she moved in beside him, her golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. He could see why the bastard wanted her. She looked like an angel with her blonde hair framing her face, those blue eyes shining with what he hoped was love. He ran one hand along her thigh, grinning at the brilliant smile she gave him.

“You’re far too kick ass for Daphne, sweetheart.” He shoved the truck into gear and hit the pedal, accelerating down the street as he headed for Virginia City. “First the holy water, then the salt. I’m starting to think Avery has some competition…another
Smith
in the makings.”

She laughed, though the tone was slightly higher than normal. “While I love the prospect of being an official Smith, I think I’ll stick with the artist gig. No one tries to steal my soul at the gallery.” She slapped him when he grinned at her. “You know what I mean.”

“Point taken. But there’s more than one way to become a Smith.”