Vintage Pride (12 page)

They both carried small digital voice recorders in case they picked up some kind of audible activity while they were out of reach of the main microphones. Kim pressed the ‘stop’ button on hers then turned to Ethan.

“Hey, I might have got something just then. Listen to this and tell me what you think.” She thumbed the playback.

Ethan strained his ears to hear the sound. It was faint but it wasn’t too much of a stretch to take what he’d heard as the soft hissing of a female voice.

“I don’t know…”

Kim rewound the tape, then played it for him a second time. “My French isn’t great but it sounds like she’s saying, ‘
laissez ici
’. Leave here.”

Ethan chortled. “Well, that’s not very friendly. But we need to let Dex know about this. Come on. Let’s go see if he’s picked anything else up.”

As they left the scullery, Pete grumbled, “Do we have to go straight to Dex? I really need a cigarette break.”

“Haven’t you thought about quitting?” Kim asked, not for the first time since they’d begun working together.

“You sound like my mother.” Pete sighed. “And it’s not like I haven’t tried. You name it. I’ve given it a shot. Nicotine patches, hypnosis, eating Brazil nuts every time I want a smoke… Nothing works.”

“Is that last one seriously a thing?” Leon sounded incredulous.

“Yeah, something to do with the fats they contain—or the minerals or something. Cancels out your craving for nicotine, or at least that’s what this nutritionist in West Hollywood told me. And they’re supposed to help improve your mood, too.”

“Well, clearly that doesn’t work for you, either,” Leon retorted.

“Look, guys, this’ll only a take a couple of minutes.” Ethan stepped in to stop their squabbling. “We’ll play the tape to Dex, he can give us his reaction, then you’re free to go do whatever.”

When they walked into the room that had been commandeered as their center of operations, Dex’s expression made it clear this would not be a short visit. “Guys, you’ve gotta see this!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” Kim had clearly picked up on the urgency in his voice. If the normally stoic Dex was excited by a discovery, it had to be something of importance.

Ethan and the rest of the crew crowded around the table on which had been arranged five monitors. Three showed black-and-white images of the specific rooms in the château where the paranormal activity appeared to be focused—the scullery, the kitchen and the stretch of cellar that ran beneath them. Another had a view of the passageway where Thomas claimed he’d seen the figure in gray, and the last looked out onto the garden.

“See here.” Dex had cued up footage from the scullery. It showed Ethan and Kim walking around the room, shining their flashlights as they went. Their mouths moved but no sound accompanied the image. “Now, this is the point at which you start throwing out questions to the spirits. Don’t watch yourselves. Take a squint at the top right-hand corner of the screen.”

Ethan did as he’d been requested, vaguely aware that Pete had taken up a position behind him and Kim so he could film both the monitor and their reaction to whatever it might display. For the briefest instant, a spark of actinic light lit up the spot Dex had concentrated on.

“You see that?” Dex asked.

“I did,” Ethan replied. “What do you think it was?”

“I have no idea,” Kim said, “but I’ll bet you anything it coincides with us getting that EVP on tape. The spirit is making it very clear she wants us out of that room.”

“So you’re convinced it’s a woman.” The way Dex phrased it, it wasn’t a question.

“It sounded like one to me,” Kim replied. “And the energy in the room—there was something very feminine about it.” She turned to Ethan. “You recall when we were exploring that lighthouse out on Cape Cod? The place where the keeper was supposed to have just up and vanished one night.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I spent the best part an hour alone in the tower, asking him to talk to me. And that chart just fell off the wall…”

Ethan remembered it well. The sequence was part of their last Hallowe’en special and had been dogged with criticism that the whole incident had been faked. Kim swore she’d had nothing to do with any skullduggery and what she’d recorded was the lighthouse keeper’s angry response to her persistent questioning.

“I had no doubt I was dealing with a masculine presence that night. The aggression, the impatience… This was different. More resigned, somehow.” Kim nibbled on her lower lip. “You know, I feel so sorry for that poor girl. The bloodlust of the mob, their blind need for retribution—it must have been such a terrifying way to meet your end.”

Ethan stared at the screen, not knowing how to respond. He still wasn’t convinced a kitchen maid haunted the château, despite Kim’s insistence she’d understood the words on the recording. To him, it had sounded more like a burst of static than anything else. As for the strange light in the scullery, that was harder to explain away but it still wasn’t the concrete proof of the paranormal they needed.

“Well, if no one minds,” Pete cut in, “I’m gonna go outside for a smoke.”

“Sure,” Dex said. “I could use the break to stretch my legs. There’s coffee in the kitchen if anyone wants any.” He rose from his seat then left the room, his sneakers making almost no noise on the floorboards. Dex had always been light on his feet for such a big man and more than once while they’d been on an investigation he’d startled Ethan half to death by suddenly appearing at his elbow.

“I’ll be through in a second,” Kim called after him. “Ethan?”

“I’m fine. I’ll keep an eye on the screens for a moment.”

“Okay,” Kim said, “and then we’ll go take a look around the grounds, see if we can spot any wild beasts. Save the excitement of the cellar for tomorrow.”

Ethan flashed Kim a weary grin. “I can’t wait.”

He couldn’t admit to her he was finding it hard to summon up his usual enthusiasm for a night’s spirit hunting—and that his reaction had nothing to do with his certainty this investigation, like all the others they’d conducted, would turn out to be fruitless. Ethan had simply found a better way to spend his time—lying in the arms of Jean-Luc LeBlanc—and every moment he spent searching the grounds of the château for ghosts was a moment he was being deprived of that pleasure.

Chapter Thirteen

Ethan climbed the stairs to Jean-Luc’s quarters, still a little guilty about having cried off the afternoon’s excursion to Reims. His excuse was that it had all been arranged at the last moment and he’d intended to work on his notes for a book proposal.

The idea had come about thanks to a half-joking suggestion of Dan Albany’s at a recent production meeting—a guide to the most haunted places in America, based on the tales the
Spirit Seekers
crew had been told in the course of their investigations. Ethan had seen potential in the book—everyone loved a good ghost story, even if he didn’t believe a word of any of them—and he thought it would provide a great tie-in with the TV series. He’d been meaning to sit down and flesh out the synopsis for a while.

At breakfast—or rather brunch, given the lateness of the hour at which they’d all assembled round the dining table—Pete had announced that he and Leon intended to drive over to the cathedral city of Reims, regarded as the unofficial capital of the Champagne region, to shoot some stock footage for the show. Kim had immediately suggested they travel over in the minivan so she and Thérèse could go on a shopping trip. Dex, who was fascinated by the history of the Second World War after learning that his grandfather had taken part in the Normandy landings, wanted to check out the museum marking the site where General Eisenhower had accepted the unconditional surrender of the German troops. When Dex had asked Ethan whether he’d like to accompany him on his visit, Ethan had politely turned the offer down.

After he’d powered up his laptop, he’d downloaded the new emails waiting for him. There’d been a message from the production office, letting him know there was the possibility of a pair of guest ghost hunters joining them when they reached England. Dan had been in discussions with Ross Barnett, better known as a children’s TV presenter, and Charlie McGuire, a spirit medium. The two had worked together on a short-lived series exploring Britain’s most haunted houses. It appeared Dan loved the idea of a real-life psychic becoming part of the
Spirit Seekers
team—however briefly—and wanted Charlie and Ross to appear on the show. Ethan found it hard to believe anyone genuinely had the ability to talk to the dead but he had to agree that it would bring a new dynamic to the team.

He fired off a quick reply to Dan, acknowledging the email and letting him know he’d be in touch once he’d discussed the plan with Kim and Dex. Returning to his inbox, he looked at the next subject header.

Check out Boyd Morrison’s updated profile.

Ethan deleted the message without reading any further and made a mental note to log in to that particular business networking site and remove Boyd from his list of friends.

He went to open the document where he’d started jotting down details for his book but somehow the prospect of working on it no longer appealed to him. He’d become all too aware that Jean-Luc was in the room above his. It couldn’t hurt to pay the man another visit and pick up where they’d last left off, surely?

With Marcus in the vineyard and the household staff busy about their duties, Ethan had the freedom of the building. Yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched as he knocked on Jean-Luc’s door. He gave himself a mental shake. What was there to be worried about? He wasn’t going to let last night’s experiences—the spirit voice Kim thought she’d captured on her recording device and the bizarre flashes of light in the scullery—spook him.

The door opened. Jean-Luc, wearing a black roll-neck sweater and a pair of faded jeans, ushered him inside. His hair was caught in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Ethan, remembering how it had spread out in glorious golden waves as they’d rolled together on the bed, itched to free it.

“I don’t need to ask what brings you to my room, do I?” Jean-Luc smiled.

Ethan wasn’t even going to pretend he’d made an effort to stay away. “I needed to see you. I’m sorry—I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”

He glanced over at the screen of Jean-Luc’s iMac and saw the screensaver image of a slowly shifting galaxy of stars. A sheaf of handwritten notes lay on the desk at the side of the keyboard, making Ethan wonder what Jean-Luc might have been working on.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Jean-Luc replied. “And don’t think I’m not glad to see you, Ethan, but you have to realize that if you come to my room without being invited there will be…consequences.” He pronounced the word with obvious intent.

Ethan’s mind flashed to the array of toys he’d seen in the bedside drawer when he’d been looking for lube. Toys designed to be used to enforce discipline and punish someone who’d done wrong.

Still, he couldn’t help blurting out, “What kind of consequences?”

“You’ll find out. But first of all, I require you to strip.”

Jean-Luc folded his arms across his broad chest and stood with his head cocked to one side, waiting for Ethan to follow his instruction. When Ethan didn’t immediately do as he’d been asked, he snapped, “Hurry up. I don’t have all day.”

The sharpness in his tone had Ethan scrambling to undo the laces of his sneakers, cursing as the knot in the left one refused to come undone. At last he had them off. He hadn’t bothered to wear socks and he shivered as his bare feet made contact with the cool floorboards.

Next were his combats, which he unzipped in haste before stepping out of them. All the while, Jean-Luc watched him in silence, the expression in his eyes impossible to fathom. Ethan wished he knew why it seemed so important to him to impress the Frenchman with his obedience. He folded his pants then placed them on top of his discarded footwear.

With every item he removed, he was conscious of a subtle shift in the balance of power between himself and Jean-Luc. He seemed to be baring his soul, as well as his body, deliberately making himself vulnerable at the whim of another man, and he couldn’t deny part of him liked being placed in this position. As he pulled his T-shirt up and off, Ethan knew Jean-Luc would see how hard his cock was growing in his peacock-blue briefs. Its tip threatened to burst over the waistband of the skimpy underwear.

“Very nice,” Jean-Luc murmured, his gaze clearly riveted on the straining bulge. “Show it to me.”

Ethan’s cheeks flamed. “Do I have to?” The briefs were all that protected his modesty and he wanted to keep them on as long as possible in order to retain his last shred of control.

Jean-Luc was in no mood for his stalling tactics. “Take them off or I’ll rip them from your body.”

Ethan didn’t doubt that he would carry out the action. His dick responded in treacherous fashion, pulsing as it stiffened to its full length. Stringing out the action as long as he dared, he hooked his fingers in his briefs then slowly lowered them. When they had joined the rest of his clothes on the floor, he stood in silence, fighting the urge to conceal his erection with his hands.

“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Jean-Luc smirked. “Now, stay where you are, Ethan. Don’t move a muscle until I tell you to.”

With that, Jean-Luc strode over to the nightstand. He made a show of sorting through the kinky treasure trove in his top drawer, searching for whatever he’d decided he would use to make his point to Ethan about having visitors to his room on his own terms.

When he returned, he carried some lengths of white cord.

“Has anyone ever restrained you before?” he asked.

Ethan shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Then I shall explain the ground rules before we begin. I say ‘rules’, though really there’s only one thing you need to remember. Nothing will happen to you without your consent. I may be in charge here but I will not ignore your feelings or wishes. And to that end, you need to give me a safe word.”

“What’s that?” Ethan felt horribly inexperienced just asking the question.