Witching Hour (15 page)

Cal grinned, walking over and grabbing her garments off the floor before snagging her other bag. He moved over to the doorway, handing her the clothes as he placed the bag just inside the room. “Sorry, sweetheart, I—”

She silenced him with one warm finger. “No, you’re not. And I wouldn’t change a thing, unless wishing for coffee will make it appear.”

Cal leaned in, brushing his lips against hers, crushing a moan when she pressed harder.

She eased back, winking at him. “I’ll be out in a minute. It’s time we had a good look at that damn book.”

Cal closed his eyes, steeling his resolve before turning and picking his shirt off the floor. He ignored the chuckle that sounded behind him as he slipped it over his head, grateful the length would cover the hard-on his pretty little spitfire had already induced before moving over to the table. Brandon merely grinned at him as he grabbed the packets of coffee off the complimentary tray and turned the small machine on.

“One word, Brandon, and I’ll give Dylan a call. I’m sure he’s got something on you that you’d rather I didn’t know.”

“Buzzkill.”

He smirked at the man when Jordan reappeared, same jeans, different sweater. Cal swallowed hard, his gaze running up and down her body. She looked stunning.

She gave him an equally stunning smile, stopping at his side. “Coffee?”

“Almost ready.” He motioned to Brandon. “You remember Deputy Brandon Peters.”

“The man who granted me my freedom. Though I’m starting to wonder if it would’ve been better if you’d kept me locked up.”

Brandon ran a hand over his cropped hair. “Maybe. But if I hadn’t witnessed that ghost for myself, I don’t think I would have believed it.” He shook his head. “I’m still trying to convince myself I’m not crazy.”

“I hear I owe you my thanks. Cal mentioned something about you grabbing both of us.”

“Was that before or after that spirit damn near killed all of us?” He sighed. “Trust me. If it weren’t for Cal, none of us would have come out of there alive. But if there’s a positive to this, you don’t need to worry about that trespassing charge. I’ll explain everything to the judge on Monday…if we’re still alive.”

Cal handed them each a cup. “We will be. And I’m sure the answers are in that damn book.”

He took a deep breath. The old leather gleamed in the bright sunlight, the intricate swirls more than noticeable. An array of scents drifted into the air, an underlying hint of sulfur impossible to miss.

Cal ran his fingers over the raised letter, amazed at how well preserved it was, before flipping it open. Pale letters inscribed the page, accompanied by an upside-down pentacle. He glanced at Jordan. “Just as you’d described, sweetheart.”

She nudged closer, pressing her body against his as she traced the words. “I’d started to think I’d merely imagined it.”

“I never doubted you.”

She smiled her thanks, tracing over the image, completely oblivious to how her contact affected him. Even with Brandon watching, he couldn’t stop the slight acceleration of his breathing, or curb the need to graze his hand along the small of her back before fisting it at his side. She was worse than any addiction and far more dangerous.

Brandon flashed him an amused smile before motioning to the book. “So what is this? A spell book? And why the hell hasn’t anyone found it before?”

“There’re definitely spells in here, though it looks as if it’s also some kind of keepsake.” Cal flipped through a few pages. “And maybe it has been found, but the people didn’t live long enough to share it with the rest of the world.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear. You think you can figure out who it belonged to?”

Jordan looked up. “That’s easy. Mary Winslow.”

Brandon frowned. “How the hell could you possibly know that?”

She grinned. “The woman’s name was whispered on our recorders a number of times. And there’s an inscription here below a drawing of a woman. It’s pretty faded, but it definitely says Mary.” She looked at Cal. “While I realize I’ve been in her presence twice now, I still can’t remember what she looks like. Not really. Does this picture resemble our female guest?”

Cal snorted. “She’s far more intimidating in her ghostly flesh, but it’s a good enough likeness. But knowing her name isn’t going to be enough. We need to figure out why she’s possessing people and getting them to kill themselves. And what’s keeping her here, assuming it’s not just the book.”

Jordan tapped her finger against her lips. “How is this book even still around? I’d have thought it would’ve been burned in that original fire, let alone two more.”

“It must have been hidden somewhere safe—maybe in the stone foundation. I’m thinking our last residents found it, and after realizing what it was and how badly their home was haunted, they simply left it behind.”

“I’d suggest that we simply burn the book, but if it’s not what’s allowing her to pass between realms, then we might be destroying our only asset.”

“Agreed. And we have a better chance facing her if we have a few of her own spells up our sleeves. There’s just one small issue. If we’re right about her being tied to the witching hour, that means we’ll have to face her once she’s passed over to this side again. So we know when we send her packing for good.” He glanced at Brandon. “That means we’ll need back inside that house. Probably tonight. After midnight.”

Brandon shook his head. “Should’ve known Dylan’s twin brother would get me involved in something this crazy. Fine. I can call in a few favors and clear it, but you’d better be right. And you’d best end this tonight before they drag all three of us away in pretty white jackets.”

“We’ll certainly do our best.” He pulled out a chair for Jordan as he nodded at another behind Brandon. “Might as well sit. We could be at this for some time.”

Chapter Ten

Cal leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he tried to ease the dull ache that had taken root in his head over an hour ago. Brandon had ducked out around ten o’clock, his radio buzzing against his hip. He’d paused at the doorway, reminding them to call him before they did anything involving the Winslow farm. Cal had nodded, though he could tell by the set of the man’s jaw, Brandon wasn’t quite sure what he’d gotten himself into. But Cal was reluctant to decline the man’s offer of help, especially when he was convinced their ghostly witch would make another appearance tonight with Jordan as its medium.

He glanced over at her, watching her study the book, her brow creasing as she tried to puzzle something out. She was beautiful. From her tousled hair to her bare feet, he knew he’d never grow tired of looking at her. Of trying to figure her out. All these years, and he still felt as if he’d just scratched the surface of who Jordan Harper really was.

The thought resurfaced memories of Dave—the reason they were cooped up in this motel room, flipping through the pages of a book that was centuries old. The motivation that had begun a chain-reaction of events, all leading up to this one moment when they might finally have a chance to put the past to rest. To put the guilt to rest.

He closed his eyes, wishing he’d had the guts to deal with this ten years ago. That he’d never put Jordan at risk because she was the only one brave enough to come back and search deeper. That he’d put as much energy into solving this mystery as he had getting his PhD. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see Jordan staring at him.

Her mouth pursed into the beginnings of a pout as she narrowed her gaze. “You can stop blaming yourself any time now.”

“I thought Avery was the mind reader?”

“I’m sure he is, but it’s not that hard to see what’s written on your face. I’d recognize that look anywhere.”

“I just hate the possibility that our friend out there might still have control over you once the clock strikes twelve.”

“I’m sure between you and Brandon, you can figure out a way to hogtie me if it comes down to that. The man does have a set of handcuffs.”

“While that brings a number of images to mind…none of which would be suitable with Brandon in the mix…I’m not sure simply tying you up will work. I’ve never witnessed any kind of manifestation that has this kind of power. She tosses things around the room as if it’s child’s play, and all while still in control of her subject. I have no doubt she could tear that police station apart and free you from a cell if she needed to. I just don’t know how she’s gotten this strong, even if she is three hundred years old.”

Jordan squeezed his shoulder. “Why don’t we go over what we do know? Maybe something will pop out at us.”

He nodded, pushing to his feet as he paced the room. “Mary Winslow was born in sixteen hundred and seventy-two according to what we’ve been able to decipher from those pages and our research online. Shortly after the infamous witch trials, the good townsfolk of Salem accused her of being a witch. But with little recourse, their only option was to burn the house down—with her in it.”

Jordan stood, leaning against the table. “Which is verified by the one documented account of that fire. It states that a single body was found in the grisly remains. That means she must have bound herself to something in an effort to save her soul.”

“Right. Give up her physical body while saving her spirit. But she would have been limited. No time for fancy spells. Just something to preserve her. Ensure she could come back and get sufficient revenge on those that had crucified her.”

“Maybe that’s what the inscription on that first page means. What did you say? From the fire a new order is reborn?”

“Basically. So she uses the fire as a means of activating the spell.” He moved over to the table. “She puts the book inside some of the stones in the foundation where the fire won’t get it, and casts the spell. Once her body burns, her spirit gets entombed in the book. But how did she get so strong? Spell or not, it shouldn’t give her the strength I’ve seen. She’d run out of energy.”

Jordan gave him a loving smile when her eyes widened, and she inhaled. “Oh my god. That’s it!”

Cal frowned. “What’s it?”

“Damn, I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I guess I took the spell more metaphorically than literally.”

“Sweetheart. You need to speak English. And in sentences that make sense.”

She swatted at his shoulder then flipped through the book, finally stopping at a page with more Latin words scribbled across the paper. She tilted the book so he could get a better look. “If you think your Latin’s rusty, mine is horrible. But I’ve seen a spell similar to this before. And while I can’t read every word, I can read enough to know it’s a binding spell.”

Cal examined the inscription, translating most of it in his head. “It’s really more of a control spell. A way of keeping spirits on this side of the veil to do your bidding…” He stopped as the answer rang through his head. “Damn. She’s using this spell to keep all those spirits of the people she kills bound to her. She’s using their energy to feed hers. And after all this time, she could have hundreds of souls to draw on.”

“So how do we stop her? Can we just burn the book?”

“I wish it were that simple. But the fact she’s attached other spirits to hers means she’s got an infinite number of tethers keeping her here. We’d have to send every spirit she’s bound to her across the veil with her.”

Jordan sighed, running a hand through her hair. “That doesn’t sound like a viable plan. Don’t suppose you’ve got another?”

“Just one. We’ll have to break her spell first. Free the other ghosts trapped in that house. Then we can burn the book and send her back to hell.”

She snorted. “Break a three-hundred-year-old spell. Sure. No problem.”

“It can’t be that hard for a couple of parapsychologists.”

“You’re the one with the letters after your name. I’ve just learned by trial and error.”

“And yet, you’re every bit as skilled as I am. Probably more so, based on that stubborn streak of yours. Not to mention your penchant for getting into trouble.”

She leaned over, brushing her lips against his. “And you’re incredibly charming.”

He gave her a light kiss, groaning at the rush of heat through his body. “And you’re going to distract me.”

“Fine. We can put that off until we come up with a solution.”

He winked at her. “But only until then. Now let’s look through the book again. Maybe we can figure out how to reverse it.”

Jordan smiled, though the gleam in her eyes said she was thinking along the same lines as him. She turned back to the first page, slowly going through each one. Cal followed along, shaking his head as one page seemed to blend into another. Spells and pictograms filled the paper, along with a few scattered entries. Nothing seemed to be linked.

Jordan huffed, shoving the book away. “This is useless. There’s nothing in here but how to screw people over. We’re not going to find out how to set them free.”

“Then we’ll have to piece it together on our own. We know she’s using their energy to feed her. But in order to bind them, she must take something from them before they die. So she has control from the beginning. And if she takes something…”

“Then all we need to do is find where she’s hiding her little treasures and destroy them. That should free them from this plane. And allow us to send her over with them.”

“Preferably without burning the entire house down. I have a feeling even Brandon won’t be able to talk our way out of that.”

“Now all we need to do is find them.”

“That’s easy. She’d keep them close. The one place she makes contact.”

Jordan clenched her jaw. “That damn attic. Why does it always come back to that place?”

“Maybe because that witch never intended for anyone to leave there. Either way, it’s the only place that makes sense. But it does present a disturbing problem.”

She answered him with an arch of one brow.

“If she’s still got her claws in you, that attic is the last place you should be after midnight. Not after what happened last night.”

“I’m fine, Cal. Really. Whatever you did, she’s gone.”