Authors: Cat Devon
Tags: #Contemporary, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Fiction
She told herself she shouldn’t be so deeply disappointed that he walked away. Her mind might be buying the argument that he’d done the right thing, but her body was still on heightened hormone alert.
She grabbed her laptop and wrote a scorching sex scene for Nicki while silently admitting the irony of the fact that her fictional character was getting more erotic satisfaction than Sierra was.
Time flew by as Sierra entered the world she’d created. Her cell phone chimed, reminding her that it was time to get dressed for the interview.
She chose a black V-neck sweater and tailored black pants. The gray color of the labradorite beads on her necklace shimmered with shades of blue as the light hit it. Her hair fell onto her shoulders, behaving for once instead of sticking out in all directions. She’d carefully applied her makeup, ending with her extravagant purchase of red Chanel lipstick. She only used it on special occasions.
She turned from the bathroom mirror to find Ruby watching her.
“Remember. Behave,” Sierra told the ghost. “No funny stuff.”
“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to … um … fly?”
“No flying.”
“Why not?” Ruby said. “You’re the only one who can see me.”
“Because you’ll distract me. I can’t be looking over the reporter’s shoulder or in the other direction while he’s interviewing me. Just go wherever you go when you disappear.”
Sierra was going to ask where that was but the knock on the front door had her rushing out of the bedroom into the hallway.
“That’s him. How do I look?” Sierra asked Ruby.
But it was Ronan who answered. “You look great.” He reached out and rubbed a few strands of hair between his fingers. “I love this color.”
“It’s my natural color,” she said.
“I know.”
She wanted to ask how he knew but kept her mouth shut. He lowered his hand to his side. “You better answer the door,” he said.
Turning the doorknob, she pasted a smile on her face and greeted the reporter, who was in his thirties as was the woman standing beside him. They were both blond, and had athletic builds and overly generous smiles. He wore horn-rimmed glasses while she had her long hair tied back in a ponytail.
“This is my photographer,” Bob said. “She’s also my wife, but that’s not why she got the job.”
“I was a photographer for the paper before we got married,” she said. Putting out her hand, she added, “I’m a freelancer now. My name is Mary, by the way.”
Sierra noted the other woman’s strong grip and her interest in the house as they stepped inside.
“This house dates back to the early nineteen hundreds, right?” Mary asked.
“That’s right.”
Mary turned to look in the living room.
“Much of the furniture came with the house,” Sierra explained as she ushered them into the room.
“This is beautiful.” Mary’s attention was focused on the sideboard. “It’s a Liberty and Company English Arts and Crafts piece.”
“Are you interested in antiques?” Sierra asked.
“I’m a fan of
Antiques Roadshow,
” Mary said. “And I do love Arts and Crafts items like this. The bullet glass on the top doors is original. The entire piece is in excellent condition.”
Now that she was looking at it closely, Sierra had to agree. “I like it.” Okay, so she hadn’t really noticed it much until now but she’d been distracted by a naked vampire and demanding ghosts.
“I understand you inherited this house from your grandfather,” Bob said.
“My great-uncle, actually.”
“Did you visit him here as a kid?”
“No. I didn’t actually see the house until I walked into it a few days ago. Please sit down.” She gestured to the couch.
Bob sat on one end and Mary on the other, leaving Sierra to sit in the middle.
“Do you mind if I record our interview?” Bob asked. “It’s standard procedure.”
Sierra’s previous interviews had been via e-mail or Skype.
Bob held up his smartphone.
“Okay,” Sierra said.
He nodded his approval. “You write about ghosts. Your first three books feature Nicki Champion, ghost hunter. Your publicist told me your latest book continues Nicki’s story, is that right?”
“Yes. She has a new case to solve.”
“A new haunting to solve?”
Sierra nodded. “Right.”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard that legend has it that this house is haunted.”
“I had heard that rumor, yes.”
“Have you sensed any ghosts here?”
She sidestepped the question by saying, “I write fiction.”
“I realize that. But how much of your fiction is autobiographical?”
“Some of it.”
“Care to give me some examples?”
“Nicki doesn’t have roots. She moves around a lot. So did I,” Sierra said.
“What about now? Are you ready to put down roots here in Chicago?”
“For the time being, yes.”
“You didn’t answer about sensing ghosts in this house.”
“That’s right. I didn’t.”
“Are you refusing to answer on the grounds you might incriminate yourself?” Bob teased her.
“I’m not in court.” Her laugh sounded nervous even to her own ears.
“I’m sensing a spirit presence,” Mary said. Pointing to the sideboard, she said, “Over there.”
Sierra looked but saw nothing. Was that where Ruby went when she disappeared? Into the sideboard? How weird was that? Perhaps not that weird, given the goings-on of the past twenty-four hours.
“I don’t want to brag but I do have a sixth sense about these things,” Mary was saying. “Do you mind if I take a photo of the sideboard?” She snapped it with her digital camera before Sierra could protest. Looking down at the image, Mary made a face. “Damn. I was hoping for an orb of light indicating a spirit.”
“I don’t know why she’d see any orbs since there aren’t any spirits over there,” Ruby said from the other side of the room. “Relax. She can’t see me.”
Go away,
she mouthed to Ruby.
“There is definitely a spirit in this room.” Mary looked around.
“She may feel the connection because she’s a descendant of one of the previous owners,” Bob said. “Maybe you’ve heard of him? Hal Bergerstock. He was rumored to be one of Capone’s crime bosses.”
There was no rumor about it.
“Tell me about him,” Sierra said.
“He died before I was born,” Mary said. “But my mom told me about him. He came from her side of the family. She remembered him puffing on his cigar as he played cards with his buddies. He’d slip her a hundred-dollar bill sometimes just to make her laugh while he was playing. He was incredibly generous that way. And he was very protective of his family and the business.”
“By business, you mean the Chicago outfit,” Sierra said. “The Mob, in other words.”
“Those were different times. Prohibition was a big mistake.” As Mary went on a mini-rant, Sierra wondered if this was the real reason Bob and Mary were sitting on her couch. This wasn’t about her books. It was about Hal.
“People still tell me how generous he was. A big tipper. The young son of the mechanic who took care of their fleet of cars needed an operation that they couldn’t afford so Hal paid for it.”
The sounds of Swedish House Mafia’s “Don’t You Worry Child” suddenly filled the room.
“I write to this song,” Sierra yelled over the high volume of the song.
“A little loud, isn’t it?” Mary yelled back.
The music stopped as suddenly as it started.
“How do you explain that?” Mary asked suspiciously.
“I have a defective iPhone docking system. The music goes off and on intermittently. I need to take it in to be fixed.”
The overhead light above the dining table flickered off and on.
“I’ve got an electrician coming to fix that,” Sierra said.
“You do know that these are all signs of a haunting, right?” Bob said.
“Just because I write about ghosts doesn’t mean I live in a haunted house.” Sierra eyed Bob and Mary suspiciously. “Is that why you came here? About the house? Not me?”
“About both,” Mary said.
She felt used. But since they were here, she might as well return the favor and use them right back. “What do you know about this place?”
“I gathered a file.” Mary opened her smartphone.
“E-mail me what you’ve got,” Sierra said, getting up to grab her own phone and confirming that Mary sent the file. After quickly skimming through the info, Sierra asked, “What about the murder of one of the girls who worked here?”
Mary frowned. “I didn’t find any reference to that. But I’m sure we’d get more answers if we held a séance. I’ve done them before and gotten answers from the other side. Not that I’ve ever held one here in this house. At least not yet.”
Sierra wasn’t eager to stir things up any more than they already were. “I’m not sure…”
“Come on. I’m sure you’ve attended séances before, right? For research, I mean.”
“Actually, no I haven’t.” She didn’t want to be present when spirits were called forth. She had enough trouble dealing with the ones who just showed up on their own. She didn’t want to go looking for trouble.
“Then this would be a great opportunity for you,” Mary said. “Do you have any candles?”
“I … um…”
“Oh look. Here are some on top of the fireplace mantel. It’s like fate placed them there for us. To do this right, we need a fourth person,” Mary said. “Another man would be great.”
“What’s going on?” Ronan demanded as he joined them in the living room.
“We’re preparing to do a séance,” Mary said.
“Who the hell are you?” Ronan said.
Sierra put a hand on Ronan’s arm, to prevent him from doing what, she wasn’t sure. Flashing his fangs at them or something. “Mary is the photographer who came with Bob the reporter doing a story on me.”
“And you are?” Bob asked in his best reporter’s voice.
“Ronan is a friend of mine,” Sierra said. Turning to face Ronan, she added, “Mary is Bob’s wife and photographer. She says she’s a descendant of Hal who lived here during the Capone years and that she’s done séances before.” Staring into his eyes, she tried to add the visual message
Don’t do anything you’ll regret.
Ronan could read her mind supposedly. So why wasn’t her message getting through? Unless he was deliberately ignoring her.
She could tell that he was not responding to her look, no compelling talent on her part obviously, so she whispered, “They may be able to help you reach your sister.”
“Or they could be fakes.” His voice was so soft she wasn’t sure if he actually spoke or if she somehow read his mind. She tried really hard to hear what else he was thinking but nothing came across.
“I’ve never been to a séance before.” Ruby was excited. “Maybe they’ll all be able to see me.” She fluffed her hair. “How do I look?” She frowned down at her corset. “I wish I was wearing more than this. You know, I did own some of the most divine gowns straight from Paris. There was this one pleated silk Fortuny dress that was the palest peach color. I adored that dress.”
“Normally I’d use the dining table but it’s too large for us to sit around and hold hands,” Mary said. “I think if we move the four chairs into a circle in front of the fireplace, that should be fine.”
Sierra didn’t know how fine it was going to be. She had a scowling vampire and a fashionista
Great Gatsby
ghost to deal with before things even got started.
“Sierra, you sit here. Ronan, you can sit beside her and I’ll sit beside you and then Bob fills the fourth chair. But before we take our seats, let’s move this small end table into the center. Okay, now we’ll put the candles on it. Light them.” She pulled a lighter from her bag. “Turn off the lamp. There.” The flickering candlelight provided a mellow yellow old-time illumination. “Great. Now, we take our seats.” She reached for her camera.
Ronan reached for her.
Sierra reached for Ronan.
Bob and Ruby were the only ones standing still.
Ronan turned Mary to face him. Looking deep into her eyes, he said, “No photographs,”
Sierra recognized that he was using his compelling voice.
“No photographs,” Mary repeated in a monotone before setting her expensive camera back down.
“Continue the séance,” Ronan said.
“I will continue the séance,” Mary said.
“Right,” Bob said. “Let’s get this party started.”
Sierra sat down and grabbed hold of Ronan’s hand. She squeezed it hard as a warning to behave. He responded by rubbing his thumb over the sensitive web of skin between her thumb and index finger.
OMG that felt good! His movement instantly brought back the memory of her sliding her fingers through his hair. Now as then, she licked her lips but she really wanted to lick his—his lips, his skin, his everything.
Damn this vampire-bond shit. She was getting hot and damp again.
Mary took hold of Ronan’s other hand, filling Sierra with jealousy. Okay, this was getting out of hand. As in his hands should only be touching hers. Whoa. Stop right there, she silently ordered herself. Behave.
Bob took hold of Sierra’s other hand, bringing her back to reality and the task at hand. Damn, there was that word again.
Hand
.
Right. Focus!
“Spirits, are you with us?” Mary said. “Make your presence known.”
The fireplace suddenly came to life with a whoosh of flames.
“I sense you here, spirit,” Mary said.
Ruby moved closer to Mary.
“You’re an old soul,” Mary murmured.
“Hey, I’m not that old,” Ruby said, clearly offended.
“The spirit is that of a man,” Mary said.
Now Ruby was really outraged. “Charlatan!”
“A man with a beard,” Mary continued.
“I do have a beard, but I’m not a man,” a new voice said.
Sierra took a cautious look over Bob’s shoulder. A heavyset woman stood here wearing circus garb. “I have a message for Bruce,” she said.
“You’re Mother,” Sierra said.
Mary looked around. “Whose mother? I’m not sensing any mothers. Just a man with a beard.”
“She’s not very good at this,” Mother said. “Maybe I should come back later. Bring Bruce.” She disappeared as suddenly as she’d appeared.
“I sense a new presence entering the room,” Mary said.