High Noon (Between the Veils Series, Book Two) (12 page)

He worked quickly, careful to keep the displaced dirt away from the ring of salt. Every pass of his shovel drew a growl of rage from the specter until it rose up again, slamming against the line. Each impact sent up a shower of sparks as more of the crystals were destroyed. Blake kept working, knowing his only recourse was to gain access to the coffin and burn the contents along with the knife.

Sweat beaded his brow as he worked his way lower, pausing once to reinforce the ring. But every moment he delayed was another that the ghost could use to its advantage, and Blake knew his time was almost up.

He plunged the shovel in again, connecting with something harder than the dirt. He poked at it, smiling at the sound of metal on wood. He’d broken through, though the hole was hardly big enough to open the lid. While he hated the thought of destroying part of the coffin, he knew his options were limited. He only hoped that it’d be big enough to cleanse the entire corpse.

Blake cleared away the last square of dirt, using his shovel to break through the lid. Pieces of wood splintered off in every direction, sending up a plume of dust from within. He waved his hand to clear the air then looked down at the grave. Yellowed bones stared back at him, the man’s skull still sprouting bits of hair. He turned away, searching through his bag for some lighter fluid and matches. Once he’d lit the coffin on fire, he’d toss in the knife and sprinkle the remains with salt.

He snagged the bottle and opened the lid, dousing the contents with fluid as he placed the box of matches beside his knee. One more minute and their friend would be nothing but a bad memory.

Blake tossed the empty bottle on the ground reaching for the matches when a hiss sounded beside his ear.

“Too late
.
”

The menacing voice grated through his head as the spirit picked him up and tossed him across the opening. Blake crashed into the wooden cross, cracking it when he bowled it over then rolled across the ground, pain sparking through his body. His skin burned where the spirit had touched him, and he was certain he’d bruised a few ribs.

The black mist materialized above him, the cowboy’s hand reaching out through the veil and closing around his throat. A burning chill sizzled along his skin as the ghost lowered on top of him.

It hissed again, showing a row of crooked teeth as it snarled at him. “She’s mine. She’ll always be mine.”

Blake clawed at the man’s arm, but his hands passed through. The chill moved lower, making it hard to breathe. Blake reached for his pocket, praying a handful of salt would be enough to loosen its grip, when the spirit tipped its head up and roared in pain.

A billow of smoke rose up over its shoulder followed the sound of wood crackling. The ghost released him and turned, expanding outward until it hovered over him and the grave, its harsh cries drowning out every other sound. Blake groaned, the burning sensation finally waning as he pushed onto his elbow, trying to will his body to move, when flashing lights caught his attention. He looked toward the grave, only to have his breath stall in his chest. Garrison’s squad car had pulled in behind his truck, the lights reflecting off the gray cloud. Blake could only see the outline of four people standing on the grave, their identities hidden by the increasing column of smoke.

He rolled onto his knees, coughing against the pain when the ghost howled in rage as its form started to dissolve. A set of hands wrapped around his arm, followed by the soft press of lips on his temple.

“God, Blake, are you okay?”

Payton’s sweet voice washed over him, her hands tracing up and down his sides. They passed over his ribs and he groaned, a new pain blazing to life.

She froze, her face hovering next to his. “Jesus, you’re hurt.” She cupped his biceps, helping him to his feet. “You are the most stubborn man—”

“You can curse me later, but we need to finish this. I don’t know why it let me go, but we don’t have much time. He’ll—”

She silenced him with a gentle finger on his lips. “It’s over, sweetie. He’s gone.”

Blake blinked, feeling more than a bit confused. “What? How? I…”

She crushed his next few words as she pressed her lips to his, the simple beauty of her kiss stealing what little breath he had. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, thankful she was safe.

Thoughts tumbled through his head and he pulled back, breaking the kiss. “I thought I told you to stay put? Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?”

She chuckled, giving him an amused smile. “You told me to stay safe, and how much safer could I be than with you and your brother.”

“Brother?”

Blake looked over her shoulder as she motioned behind her. The smoke had dwindled down to small tendrils, clearing the air over the grave. Avery was tossing more salt into the hole, while Temperance emptied one of his bottles of holy water. The scene seemed surreal and he hadn’t realized he’d taken a step until Payton shouldered most of his weight.

“Wow, easy, sweetie. Looks like you did more than just get a scratch or two.”

“I’m so confused.”

She laughed again, helping him stumble over to the gravesite. Temperance smiled as she recapped the bottle, elbowing Avery in the ribs.

He turned, shaking his head as his gaze swept down Blake’s body. “You know, little brother, if you wanted to step out of the background and be more than a techno nerd, all you had to do is say so.” Avery waved his hand around the grave. “I didn’t need for you to put on a show.”

“Very funny, bro.” Blake accepted the hug Temperance gave him, trying not to grimace from the gentle squeeze. “Are you sure you want to stay married to him? I’m sure it’s not too late to get the entire thing annulled.”

Temperance laughed as Avery tried to punch Blake in the shoulder, before pulling her flush to his side. Her face lit up at the simple contact and Blake knew it’d be a cold day in Hell before they called it quits.

Avery gave her a chaste kiss. “Trust me. There’s no hope of an annulment now…not after the last week.”

Blake rolled his eyes in feigned disgust. “Feel free to spare me all the gory details.” He glanced at Payton, wondering what had transpired already. “So, have you two been introduced?”

Temperance winked at him, nodding toward Payton. “Briefly. But then it’s not every day you get to meet an old flame.”

Blake cringed inwardly, wondering what move to make next when Payton laughed and touched his arm.

“Blake, sweetie, they’re joking. Everything’s fine.”

He furrowed his brow, not sure if they were being honest with him. He turned to Avery. “So how the hell did you know to come to Virginia City? The last time I saw you two, you were heading north with every form of technology safely turned off.”

Temperance motioned to Avery. “Oh please. You know your brother. He can’t resist all those toys you make for him for long.” She chuckled. “Turns out cabins are just as haunted as hotels. Anyway, we ventured into town to ask you about one of the devices only to discover you weren’t home. And when we couldn’t raise you on your cell last night, we suspected something was wrong.”

Blake shook his head. “But how did you know to come here? I didn’t leave you a message or anything.”

Avery tsked at him. “Do you really think it’s that hard to get a list of incoming calls off your cell? Please, give me some credit. And when I saw it was a call from Payton in the middle of the night, I was able to piece the rest together.”

“And you just hopped on a flight and came down here.”

He nodded then motioned to the sheriff standing behind them. “We’re just lucky the good sheriff knew where Payton was or we might not have ventured out here in time.”

Blake snorted, then quirked his mouth into a smile. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

Avery held up his hand. “That’s two, little brother.”

“The Myrtles Plantation doesn’t count because I saved your ass right back.”

“Maybe, but if Tempie and I hadn’t shown up…”

Blake groaned. He rarely won an argument with his brother. He shifted his weight, only to grimace in pain. Damn, his ribs didn’t feel like they were only bruised.

Avery touched his arm. “I’d say you got more than just the wind knocked out of you. Don’t tell me you’re getting sloppy.”

Blake gritted his teeth. “I didn’t get sloppy. That bastard found a way through the barrier. Another few minutes, and I would have had his ass.”

Avery smirked. “Another few minutes and he would have had yours.”

Blake huffed, and took a step forward but Temperance moved between them.

“Don’t you boys ever stop?” She shoved Avery back a bit before turning to Blake. “It’s because you broke the coffin.”

Blake furrowed his brow. “What? But I’ve seen Avery do it a hundred times and it never releases the ghost.”

“That’s because he remembers to put a second ring of salt around the open tomb. When you have a spirit that’s already free, an open lid is like a doorway for them. If you don’t block it as well, they can just jump right out at you.”

Blake closed his eyes. Fuck. He hadn’t even thought about that.

Payton’s grip on his hip tightened. “Enough blabbering. You’re hurt. We should get you to the clinic.”

He waved her suggestion away. “I’ll be fine. I just need to rest for a bit.”

She shook her head. “You’re not fine and you
will
go to the clinic.”

“If I were you, I’d listen to the lady. You look far worse for wear than the last time you were here.” Sheriff Garrison joined the group, his pants covered in soot and dirt. “Tell me. Why is it you boys manage to burn everything you get your hands on in this town? Can’t you cleanse or banish or whatever it is you do without making a mess?”

Avery smiled. “Blake’s really the one who makes the mess.”

The sheriff sighed. “He said the same thing about you.” He took a step back, scanning the area. “Well, it looks like whatever you did worked. I’d say Mr. Dalton is gone for good. This mess on the other hand…”

Avery nodded at Blake. “I’m sure my brother will clean up after himself.”

Blake looked at Payton, smiling at the devilish grin on her face. He glanced at Avery. “I’d love to, bro, but I’m on my way to the clinic.”

Avery’s mouth hinged open as Blake dropped a kiss on Temperance’s cheek, allowing Payton to help him to his truck. He gave her the keys, climbing in the passenger side as she jumped behind the wheel. His ribs rubbed together, sending another jolt of pain through his chest, but it was overshadowed by the sheer look of love in her eyes. He returned her smile, gazing out at the cemetery as she drove off. The sun blazed overhead, the thin cloud layer no longer holding back its warmth. He savored the feel of it against his skin until Payton cleared her throat.

“So it’s over, right?”

“For now. There’s still a slew of ghosts at your gallery, but now that Dalton’s gone, a few of them might cross over.” He released a slow breath. “I still don’t understand why he was so active during the day. Generally ghosts wait for night.”

“It’s all part of the old west, sweetie. They always had gunfights at high noon.”

Blake laughed then grunted. “Don’t make me laugh.” He grabbed her hand, cupping it in his. “Thanks.”

She raised a playful eyebrow at him. “You can thank me properly later. But based on how much pain you’re in, that might take a while. So I suggest you get comfy here, because I don’t intend on letting you out of my sight until you’ve shown the extent of your gratitude.”

Blake’s cock spiked against his jeans. “Deal.”

Chapter Nine

“What do you think?” Payton stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest as she surveyed the room. “Too busy? Too cluttered? Too—”

Blake silenced her with a kiss, smiling against her lips as he pulled back. “Payton. Sweetheart. Stop worrying. The place looks fantastic. When the doors open for business tomorrow, people are going to riot trying to get in here. Your art…” He shook his head. “Damn, I never knew you were so talented. I’ve already picked out the ones I want.”

Payton swatted at his chest, careful to stay clear of the bandages. He’d broken two of them in his fight with Dalton and after nearly a month, was just now starting to look like he could move around without cringing.

“You don’t have to buy my work, silly. I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?”

The husky tone in his voice sent shivers skittering down her spine. They hadn’t made love since he’d gotten hurt, and her body was primed and ready. Hell, just the sound of his voice was enough to cream her slit with want.

She held up her hand, pressing it against his shoulder as he backed her against a wall. “You’re still hurt.”

“Not that bad.”

“But your ribs—”

“Will be just fine.” He held his chin high. “Unless there’s another reason you don’t want to make love.”

“Of course there isn’t, it’s just…”

Her words morphed into a squeal as he lifted her over his shoulder and headed for the stairs.

“Blake, put me down. I’ll walk. This will kill your side and—”

He cut her off with a smack to her ass. “Stop telling me what will hurt and what won’t. I’m feeling rather neglected and unless you want our first time here to be with you tied to the bed, I suggest you tame that sass.”

Payton held back the groan his words had bubbled free. God, just thinking about him having complete control over her made her clit tingle with need and her chest feel heavy as she forced in her next breath. Blake murmured something she couldn’t quite make out, seemingly content at her obedience. While a part of her wanted to assert her independence, she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him to stop.

Blake marched them up the stairs and into her bedroom, setting her down on the floor a few feet from the bed. He kept hold of her hand, giving her body a long, hard look as he stood there, a strange expression on his face.

She inched forward, drawing a finger along his cheek. “You okay?”

He exhaled a slow breath, looking around the room as if he expected more ghosts to jump out at them. “I was just thinking that this is where it all began. Right here in the middle of the room.”