Black Heart (31 page)

she'd probably think that he was crazy every time he abruptly left the room when they were

sleeping, making love, talking, or taking a shower. He really needed to have another talk

with them, but right now he was more concerned by the fact that over the past month spirits

had been getting by Shayne left and right and bugging the shit out of him.

When he saw the spirit throw a look of longing towards the stairs, he shook his head,

once. That's all it took to keep the man from going to play peeping tom on Marty. If he so

much as looked in the direction of the stairs, Tristan was going to bring the bastard down to

his knees, again.

While he normally didn't bother with spirits and left the handling and sorting to Shayne

that didn't mean that he couldn't do his own damage. There was a reason after all that he

could see, touch and communicate with them. Whatever Shayne was, he was, but the

human version. He couldn't do as much as Shayne for that reason, but he could do enough

to keep them in line when he needed to control them. The problem with trying to control

them was that it meant that he had to touch them and he fucking hated touching them.

"I'm not sure how they keep getting past me," Shayne said with a put out sigh as he got

to his feet.

"Maybe because you're too busy pouting to do your job," Tristan snapped, tired of this

bullshit.

"No, that's not the reason," Shayne said, sounding thoughtful as he looked the spirit over.

"I'm more than capable of pouting and doing my job. I'm talented like that," he said, earning

a few muttered curses from Tristan as he stepped up to the ghost who looked like he'd been

hit by a car. The tire tracks across his back only went to confirm that suspicion.

"Ye shouldn't have gotten near me lad here without me knowing," he said as he curiously

watched the nervous man.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man said, shifting anxiously. "The only

thing that I know was that one minute I was taking my after dinner walk and the next I was

getting pulled into a bedroom while this incredibly hot woman got on her knees and-"

"
Well
," Shayne said, quickly cutting the man off when Tristan took a threatening step

towards him, "I can see that yer not going to be helpful, so this is where we say goodbye,"

Shayne quickly explained as he laid his hands on the dead man's chest. A beautiful white

light spread over his chest, sending warmth and feelings of love through the room seconds

before the man simply disappeared.

"What the hell is going on, Shayne?" Tristan asked as he rammed his fingers through his

hair out of frustration.

Whatever was going on was seriously fucking with his life. He'd always attracted spirits,

but this past month was fucking ridiculous. Normally he could still lead a semi-normal,

productive life, only having to deal with spirits when Shayne was otherwise occupied, but

something had changed over the past month. He couldn't remember the last time that he got

a full night of sleep, never mind took a piss without an audience.

Everywhere he went, they followed. It was even worse when he was with Marty, which

was often. He felt like such an asshole. Thanks to him, she wasn't getting much sleep either.

Every time spirts woke him up, he managed to startle her awake. He'd apologize for waking

her up and she'd shrug it off like it was no big deal, but he knew that the multiple wakeups a

night were taking their toll on her.

She was exhausted.

Granted, she was also putting in a lot of hours at work plus a few hours each night trying

to figure out where all the missing women had disappeared. Mostly she was exhausted

because of this damn spirit invasion that didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon.

Every night when she fell into an exhausted sleep in his arms, he prayed that they'd give him

a damn break, at least for one night, but they never did.

Every night for the past month he woke up to find himself being attacked or screamed at

and, each and every time that happened, he ended up waking Marty. It hadn’t mattered if

he was holding her in his arms or managed to put some space between them before he fell

asleep, he couldn't manage to handle the nighttime visits without scaring the hell out of her.

He tried everything he could to help her fall back asleep, but once she was awake, that was

it.

He considered sleeping on the couch, but that would only send the wrong message to his

wife. They'd only been married for a month and opting to sleep on the couch instead of

with her in their bed would cause a lot of bullshit problems that he'd rather avoid. He was in

love with his wife and he didn't want her to ever have a reason to question that. So, instead

of leaving her to sleep, he tried other ways to help make things better for her.

Sometimes he held her, drew a bath for her or they'd grab the files of the missing women

and look through them, hoping to find something that they'd missed. So far they hadn't

found any leads. They were still investigating restaurants and restaurant supply stores, but

they were going nowhere.

The only time that she seemed to get any sleep was when he was driving. It only took a

matter of seconds for Marty to doze off and once she was out she slept so damn peacefully

that most mornings he drove around instead of going straight to the office. As long as he

drove, she slept so he made damn sure that he drove as long as he could. Thankfully his

position allowed him that luxury, but it couldn't keep him on the road indefinitely.

He usually reported back to the office by nine after he drove around, patrolling the town

and making calls. By the time he shut the engine down, her eyes would be open and she'd

be throwing him a grateful smile as she grabbed her bag and opened her door. For the next

eight or so hours she'd struggle to stay awake while she worked, but the second that he

turned on the car to take her home, she was fast asleep. He usually managed to drive for an

hour or two before he took her home.

Once they were home, she kept herself busy with cooking, cleaning and working. When

he suggested that she get some sleep or offered to help her, she'd give him a playful shove

and tell him that everything was fine. Things weren't fine. They were far from fine.

His wife wasn't happy and it was his fault. He'd rushed her into marrying him, too afraid

that he'd fuck up and lose her for good. If things didn't change, and soon, he was afraid that

he was going to lose her anyway.

One thing was certain, he wasn't going to lose her lying down. He knew what his life

would be like without her, empty, and he wasn't about to go back to that. Not without a

fight. He was going to take her away from everything and give her a real honeymoon. He

should have done that right after they’d eloped, but they'd both wanted to focus on this case

and Marty wanted to be able to start her new position without any delays.

She was set to graduate and officially start her job in a month. Everything had taken

longer than expected because of work, getting married, and a few problems with her

advisors, but the end was finally in sight. He'd already spoken to Hank and put in for a

vacation so that he could surprise Marty with a real honeymoon as her graduation present.

He knew that she'd be pissed to have to put off her new job for a little while longer, but

they needed this.

He needed this.

He desperately needed some time alone with his wife. He wanted to take her away from

all this bullshit and prove to her that she hadn't made a mistake by marrying him. Marty

needed to know that he loved her, worshipped her, and would move heaven and earth to

make her happy.

In order to do that, he had to get rid of all the bullshit and distractions in their lives. She

deserved all of his attention and he was going to damn well give it to her even if it killed

him. It was definitely going to make him broke.

It took some time, research and using Shayne's talents, but he found an exclusive resort

on a small island in the Bahamas that was untouched by death. Before the resort was built

fifteen years ago, the island had been untouched by humans. It had just been another small

pretty island among hundreds of small pretty islands until a few contractors decided to build

a resort. Since its creation, not one single human had died on the island.

He'd checked.

Repeatedly.

The airline tickets, private boat to take them to the island and the cost of the rooms and

meal package was going to wipe out his entire nest egg and that should piss him off, but

surprisingly he didn't care. For the first time in his life, he was going to be a normal guy and

he couldn't wait.

He couldn't wait to hold his wife's hand without worrying about coming up with some

fucked up excuse why he had to drop her hand, cross the street unnecessarily, or having to

stop whatever he was doing and kiss her, well, that one he didn't mind, because he was

hoping to go unnoticed by a spirit that just happened to be too close for his comfort. He

was really looking forward to being able to get some uninterrupted sleep, using the john

without an audience, and being able to tell his wife that he loved her before he made love to

her without some bitter woman scoffing, ranting and raving that he was a lying sack of shit.

It was going to be two weeks of heaven with Marty and he couldn't wa-

"What the hell is that sound?" Shayne demanded for what was probably the tenth time in

the past week and drawing Tristan's attention right back to where it should be.

"Don't know. Don't care," Tristan said, turning his back on his frowning friend. He

started to head up the stairs to his wife whom he'd love to make love to for the rest of the

night, but actually found himself hoping that she was asleep. She really needed her rest.

"Just keep them off my ass for the rest of the night."

Chapter
25

Tristan was hiding something from her.

Actually, she was pretty sure that he was hiding several things from her and, if she wasn’t

so damn tired, she’d probably be really pissed off, but right now she couldn’t quite find the

energy to pick a fight with him. She could barely find the energy to reach down and grab

the comforter and pull it over her.

After several failed attempts, a few groans and whimpers, she gave up and settled for

curling up on her side and closing her eyes only to open them a split second later and shoot

a nervous look around the dimly lit room when she thought she heard a noise. She didn’t

see anything, but…….

Biting her lip, she quickly leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed a fistful of the

thick comforter that had been kicked off the bed when she’d tumbled onto the bed with

Tristan after their shower. Throwing one last wary glance around the suddenly too quiet

room, she dropped back on the bed, yanking the comforter over her in the process.

Her grip on the comforter tightened as she pulled it up to her chin, her eyes darting to the

left when the sounds of softly spoken whispers reached her ears. Swallowing hard, she

squeezed her eyes shut and yanked the comforter over her head all while telling herself that

she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t. It was late, she was tired and everyone knew that sleeping

with a comforter pulled over your head was the best way to sleep.

Within minutes the air trapped beneath the comforter became stifling, but she ignored it

along with her suddenly parched throat and the pounding of her heart as she strained her

ears to listen for any sounds that would let her know that she wasn’t alone.

She opened her mouth to call out for Tristan, but thought better of it and settled for

curling up into a tight ball instead, careful not to dislodge the protective comforter from her

body.

She couldn’t call Tristan, because he’d probably have her committed. Not that she could

blame him. She was hearing voices after all, she thought unhappily as she held her breath,

hoping that whatever it was would just go away and leave her alone. But, she knew that it

wouldn’t.

It didn’t matter if she ignored the voices or tried to flee the room, they followed her,

screamed at her and cried, breaking her heart and terrifying her at the same time. She didn’t

know what to do or how much longer she was going to be able to keep this up. To be

honest, she was surprised that she’d been able to keep it up this long. She’d thought by now

that Tristan would have picked up on her strange behavior and asked what was going on.

Then again, it wasn’t as though she responded to the voices or was acting crazy so