Soul Taker (8 page)

"Why do you care?" She deflected his question
with one of her own. "What's with the overprotective brother
act?"

"I'm worried about you getting too close to
Harrison."

"He's nice."

"With a trail of women behind him to prove
how nice he is. Do you really want to be added to the numbers? I
see heartache for you if you get too cozy with him."

"Did you inherit a crystal ball I don't know
about? 'Cause I didn't realize you could predict the future." She
turned away and reached for a sponge. "I'll go out with whomever I
want. And if it's Harrison, or someone like him, so be it." She
added water to the sink. Scrubbing dishes and readying them for the
dishwasher proved therapeutic on more than a few occasions, but not
tonight. Nicholas hovered behind her, obviously not through with
his interrogation.

"So you're going out with Harrison?"

She sighed with annoyance. Her eyelids
fluttered as she said a silent prayer for control. "No, I'm not and
I don't plan to, either." She looked over her shoulder. "Now will
you let it go? I'd like to finish here and go home sometime
tonight." Her brother stared at her a moment longer before he went
back up front to clear the other tables.

She may not want to date Harrison, but she
had every intention of speaking to him about Marcy. He thought she
was murdered, claimed there'd been others who had died in the same
fashion. She wanted to know how he came by this information. More,
she wanted to know why he thought to share it with her.

Chapter Twelve

Harrison tried for two days to convince
Garran he was wrong not to confide in Isabella. The vampire stood
fast to his convictions. "Bloody Scotsman," he muttered under his
breath as he stood guard outside the hospital room at
North
Shore Medical
. Garran was inside the room assessing if the
woman brought in two days ago was another victim of the
Soul
Taker
. If so, the
Soul Taker
had broadened his hunting
grounds to include Salem. Perhaps they should check Peabody's
hospitals, too.

Garran walked out of the room, his expression
grim. He lifted his chin with a nod toward the exit. They hurried
down the corridor, trying to look inconspicuous as possible for two
preternatural beings on a mission. They were outside and heading
for the car before Garran spoke. "She's one of his."

"Will she survive?"

Garran shook his head.

"That makes four in Boston and one in Salem
now."

"Laurie Coontz," Garran said.

"Who?"

Garran looked at Harrison. "Laurie Coontz is
the woman's name. She hosts nightly ghost tours in Salem."

His eyebrows rose. "How do you know
this?"

Garran held up a nametag with
Ghostly
Haunt's
logo above the girl's name.

Harrison didn't bother asking where Garran
lifted the nametag. "So the girl hosted ghost tours. What of
it?"

Garran shrugged and slipped the nametag into
his front pocket of his jeans. "Something to look into. We don't
have anything else."

Arriving at their car, Harrison opened his
door and slid in. He waited for Garran to do the same. Putting the
keys in the ignition, he glanced at the digital clock on the dash.
"We have enough time to take in a ghost tour and drive home before
the sun rises." His head swung lazily toward him with a grin. "Are
you game?"

"They might think we're one of the ghouls,"
Garran joked, his fangs glistening.

"Speak for yourself, Grim Sith. I charm the
ladies. I don't bite unless asked." He turned the key in the
ignition and the motor roared to life.

****

Johanna had phoned Isabelle this morning,
excited about the shop being a great location in Salem. She had her
new boyfriend to thank for finding it for her. Johanna had signed
the final papers, and she wanted Isabella there to celebrate.

Nicholas nearly shoved Isabella out the door.
"I can take care of the restaurant for a few nights, Izzie," he
grumbled. "Please go. It'll give you a break from the customers
asking you about Marcy."

She had a hunch he also wanted her away from
Harrison, not that he'd been in the restaurant since the wake. "And
what about you?"

He waved his hand at her." Emotions don't
bombard me and weigh me down, like they do to you. Go. Have fun.
Besides, I'll have a few days away this weekend when I go to the
food preparation seminar in Orlando."

She didn't need any more encouragement.

A few hours later, Isabella dropped off her
suitcase at the
Hawthorne Hotel,
located in the historic
district of Salem. Johanna had rented a suite with her boyfriend
and assured her it would be all right if she crashed there tonight
on the sofa bed so she didn't have to go home so soon.

After freshening up, she headed over to
Victorian Station
to meet Johanna and her boyfriend. About
time she put a face to the… She frowned, realizing Johanna had
never mentioned her boyfriend's name.

The hostess at the restaurant led her outside
to the patio where Johanna sat at a table facing the wharf. She
wore her hair down and curled. She had donned a flattering flowered
halter and a pair of white slacks.

As Isabella neared, her smile slipped from
her face. Johanna's aura was off—the blue and pink were muddled
with dark patches, and the yellow was nearly non-existent. Even if
she couldn't see her aura, the dark circles under Johanna's eyes
were a dead giveaway, screaming:
I'm not feeling well.

Isabella tried to keep the concern out of her
voice, but it flowed over into her words anyway. "What's
wrong?"

Johanna tucked an imaginary hair behind her
ear. "You never miss a thing, do you? And I caked on the makeup."
She let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm a little tired. I've been
having trouble sleeping, that's all. It's all the excitement. I'm a
storeowner," she squealed the last. "I'm fine, really. Sit, sit,
Mama Hen
."

Isabella's gaze shifted to the two place
settings before looking at Johanna. "I thought your
boyfriend—what's his name again—was going to meet us here."

She chuckled. "He was going to meet us, but
at the last moment, he was called away on business."

Isabella noticed again, she hadn't said his
name, but before she could ask once more, Johanna changed the
subject. She may look worn out, but she talked a mile a minute
about the shop and how her boyfriend had lavished her with
attention.

After dinner, they strolled over to where
Johanna's
soon-to-be
flower shop was located. "I wish I had
the keys so we could go inside, but I pick them up tomorrow."

"It's a wonderful location." Isabella had to
agree.

"I know. I can't believe how fortunate I am."
Johanna glanced at her watch. "It's only nine. What do you want to
do?"

"I don't care. Name it."

"Well, let's see what there is to do in Salem
at night. I just happen to have some flyers." She rifled through
her purse, pulling out one flyer and grinning. "This might be fun."
She handed it to Isabella to take a peek. The black glossy flyer
sported eerie green font and photo of a man dressed in a cape and
top hat.

"A ghost walk?" She laughed, thinking Johanna
was joking.

"It could be fun." She looped an arm through
Isabella's and started leading her toward the street. "I always
wanted to go on one."

"So, have your boyfriend go with you."

"He says he's too scared to go on one. I find
it difficult to believe a strapping six-foot-two man could be
afraid of a few ghost stories."

"I don't know. I think I'm right there with
him."

"I promise, I'll hold your hand." Johanna's
rich laugh made her smile.

"You better."

****

There were two local groups, which hosted a
ghost walk, each taking a different route so not to run into each
other. Garran and Harrison decided they would split up and cover
them both tonight.

Harrison was stuck with the
Goth-chick
guide with her thick eyeliner, black lipstick, and pierced lip. She
was probably twenty-two or three, a college student earning a few
bucks on the side.

Harrison flirted with her as they waited for
the rest of the group to show up. Goth-chick wasn't biting. He
decided to try the direct approach and just ask about the latest
victim. "Laurie Coontz used to give ghost tours. Did you know
her?"

Goth-chick looked him up and down, a slow
slide with an attitude. "Who wants to know?"

"Harrison Connell. I went to school with her.
She sure got a raw deal, didn't she?"

"Yeah, the kid had a bad heart. Go
figure."

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know her
boyfriend, do you? The hospital said he wasn't notified. We could
at least let the poor bloke know where his girlfriend is. Don't you
think?"

"Can't say I knew her boyfriend. Some
cherub-looking
guy—if you ask me—nothing I'd look at twice.
He had an accent, too."

"An accent?"

She eyed him again. "Yeah, not like yours
though." She snapped her fingers. "You know, one of those other
Gaelic-ky
types."

Okay, he wasn't Irish,
Harrison
thought. "Perhaps Scottish?" he offered.

"Yep. That's it. A pretty boy, Scottish
accent and..." Fear flickered in her eyes for a second as she
brought Laurie's boyfriend to mind. She chewed on her lip-ring as
if debating if she should say anymore.

"Laurie told me she liked him," Harrison
coaxed. "But he was a little on the odd side."

Goth-chick nodded in agreement. "Yeah. There
was something… I don't know… creepy about him. It wasn't anything
he said or did. It was the way he looked at a person. He had a face
of an angel, but the whole angelic thing didn't quite make it to
his eyes." She chuckled. "You know how the eyes are the window to
the soul. Well, this guy's soul had a wicked streak. If you know
what I mean."

Oh, he knew all right. Goes to show, looks
were deceiving. He thought Goth-chick would like the whole bad-boy
persona.
Mr. Soul Taker
was as
bad
as they come.
Obviously, she possessed some good sense, even though her fashion
statement could be rethought. "Still, if you know where I can reach
him, I'd appreciate it."

"Can't say I do. It wasn't like Laurie and I
were tight. And since Laurie isn't giving tours, the guy hasn't
been around lately."

"I had to ask. Thanks…" he looked down at her
nametag. "Beatrice."

"Harrison, is that you?"

"Looks like your girlfriend finally showed."
Beatrice nodded toward someone behind him.

He frowned, wondering which ex-girlfriend
thought ghost tours were a fun way to spend the evening. He turned
with a few excuses for why he was here, but when he spotted the
woman in question, the excuses fled his memory. "Isabella?" Then he
caught sight of Johanna beside her and his heart stopped and
started again. It pounded against his ribcage as if looking for an
escape. He made his way around a couple to reach them. "What brings
you two lasses here?"

Isabella gave him an easy smile. "Johanna's
in the process of buying a flower shop on the wharf and we thought
we'd celebrate."

Isabella was pleasant enough, but he knew by
the way she stared him down that she wanted to talk to him—alone.
He'd
outed
her as being a Necromancer then didn't follow up
on it. He was still working on convincing Garran they needed her on
the team. Until they came to an agreement, he couldn't reveal
everything they had on the case. He probably shouldn't have opened
the door to her curiosity when he couldn't allow her in.

"You're celebrating by taking a ghost tour?"
His brows rose and his gaze shifted to Johanna.

She chuckled nervously and tucked her hair
behind her ear. "Dinner was celebrating. This is... curiosity."

If Johanna bought a shop here in Salem, she
probably wouldn't frequent the restaurant much. What did it matter?
It wasn't like Johanna and he would ever have a future. She feared
him. If she knew he was one of the Mac Tíre… Well, a werewolf
tended to freak out most people. "That's great about the shop," he
told Johanna, feeling the loss already.

"Thanks." Johanna actually smiled and met his
gaze.

Isabella looped her arm through Johanna's as
she spoke. "She coerced me into taking this silly ghost tour when
we could be enjoying dessert. I was thinking of something sinfully
rich and definitely chocolate."

"It's time to get started," Beatrice—their
ghost tour guide—announced. "If you will move closer," she waved
her hands in a come-hither fashion and the crowd merged forward in
unison. "Please keep up with me, I'd hate to lose anyone." She
pinned her gaze on Isabella.

Isabella's lips twitched. "Looks like I
offended her." She lowered her voice so not to be overheard.

"I wouldn't let it bother you," Harrison
leaned near to whisper. "This is all in fun. Besides, if there's
real trouble brewing, I'll protect you fine lasses."

Both Isabella and Johanna chuckled, causing
Beatrice to send them another annoying look before she turned and
led the group forward.

Beatrice's steps halted in front of the
Burying Point Cemetery
. She spoke of Hawthorne's ghost
walking the grounds at night in hopes of seeing his ladylove,
Sophia.

"I could think of a better place to meet than
in a graveyard," Isabella commented.

"It's eerie and beautiful," Johanna's gaze
touched Harrison's for a brief second before looking away
again.

Harrison agreed with a nod. He often had
thought the same. "It has its charm: beautiful etched stones,
benches to sit upon and flowers, trees and plants aplenty."

Johanna's lips slid into a sweet smile.
"Exactly."