WeirdNights

Rebecca
Royce

Book two of the Shadow Promised
series.

Mindy Spellman
hasn’t been the same since a demon stepped into her life, murdered her boyfriend
and left her scarred inside and out.

Jonah is one of
the blood-oathed, sworn to guard mankind against things that go bump in the
night. He’s promised Mindy he’ll teach her how to protect herself. But a
poltergeist on the loose leaves him feeling protective—and lust-struck.

She’s supposed to
be under his care, but as they battle the forces of evil, he finds himself
caring too much.

A Romantica®
horror erotic romance
from Ellora’s
Cave

Mindy Spellman pulled her coat closer around her as she
walked into the icy cold air that cut like knives against her skin. After six
months in Chicago, she didn’t lower her head or look away from the assault,
used to the punch the Windy City packed. She had a job to do and couldn’t get
it done if she didn’t watch for signs of trouble.

Any of the redbrick homes she rushed by now could be filled
with the musical-sounding eclectic mixture of language that Albany Park was
famous for. She’d been inside twelve of them in the last two days, but not to
enjoy the diverse cultures contained within their walls.

Some of the homes she’d been invited inside, some of them
she’d broken into to find the information she needed, regardless of whether the
owners opened the door for her or not.

A girl has to do what a girl has to do.
There was a
poltergeist on the loose. If she couldn’t find it, she couldn’t kill it.

She rounded the corner, seeing her destination up ahead. Red
and built just like the others on North Monticello Avenue, it was the only one
she hadn’t made her way inside earlier today. The owners understood her request
for entry just fine when she’d knocked at noon. They’d just not wanted her
inside, even after she explained that she was ghost hunting. Maybe that had
been the problem. Unlike some of the others they’d not been bothered yet by the
apparitions.

Or maybe they’d been horribly bothered by her white hair and
her scarred face—both of which had been given to her by hell creatures earlier
that year.

Mindy really couldn’t blame the owners for not wanting her
presence. Back in the days before her life tilted on its axis, she wouldn’t
have wanted the current version of her inside either.

She intended to help this neighborhood, whether they asked
her to or not.

The house she sought, with its black metal gate twined in
ornate silver designs, stood out from the rest of the street. Maybe these
people had slightly more money than the rest and they could afford to decorate
their home accordingly. Personally, she wouldn’t want anything to draw
attention to where she lived.

Evil had a tendency to find what it wanted, with or without
a silver design leading the way.

Keeping her head down, she moved through the darkness toward
the house. The owners weren’t home. She’d kept an eye on their property for the
better part of two days. They worked nights, their young children heading off
to a house down the street when mom and dad were both out. An hour earlier, the
transition had happened.

Now or never, Mindy
.

The metal gate creaked when she opened it. Before her
parents had died, her father spent endless hours maintaining their house.
Nothing leaked, nothing needed oil and the grass had always been cut—the
perfect suburban household in the heartland of America.

Then—
boom
—all of it came to an end.

She shook her head. What a strange memory to dredge up. Her
childhood illusions should feel free to go ahead and stay repressed wherever it
was they hung out in her brain. Dwelling on what was helped nobody, especially
not her.

Moving to the back of the house, she took a look at the lock
on the door. Six months earlier, she could never have managed to break in
anywhere. Now she could handle getting into this house in a matter of seconds.

A light flashed at her hand and she jolted around, her heart
in her throat. “I’d be careful. I think that’s going to prove to be more
complicated than you think.”

Jonah turned off his flashlight and grinned at her. Her
eyes, strained from the sudden flickering from bright to dark, took a second to
recognize his smirk.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “How did you find
me?”

The second question concerned her more than the first. Having
Jonah with her wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. In fact, if she
encountered a ghost, he’d be rather useful. The second—his ability to track her
wherever she went—bothered her on a deeper, far more primitive level.

She didn’t want to be found so easily, not when she
preferred to stay hidden.

“If I’ve told you once, Mindy, I’ve told you a million
times. I’ll always find you, darling.”

He’d also very recently started to use annoying little terms
of endearment to refer to her. In his Southern accent, although he’d yet to
specify to her where in the South he was from, it sounded even more delicious.
Not that she’d ever admit it to him. Jonah had enough of an ego.

He didn’t need to know that she very pathetically lusted
after him. Lately, she fantasized about him when she was at her evil day job,
watched him through windows when he trained with Master Foy, woke up touching
herself after dreaming about him all night. These were not things Jonah needed
to know.

Because there was no way he’d ever return her feelings, not
in her current state. White hair the color of snow she could fix, if she could
ever bring herself to bother. The scarring on her face? That would always be
there and someone as physically perfect as Jonah would not be interested in
spending time with a monster like her.

At least it gave her lots of time to fight nightmares and
make people’s lives better.

“I’m starting to wonder if you have a tracker in my bag.”

Jonah shook his head. “There are no electronics involved in
my ability to find you.”

“Fine. Whatever.” She turned back to the door. “Since you
brought a flashlight, would you mind holding it up to the lock so I can break
it open?”

“Would you mind telling me why you’re breaking in, first?”
Jonah stepped to her side and looked down at the lock.

“The whole neighborhood has been complaining of ghosts.
Weird police reports. Talking to the media. Everyone, but this house. That
tells me they’re either lying about it or they’re somehow involved.”

Jonah sighed loudly. “Mindy.”

“What?” she snapped at him. When Jonah took the tone, it meant
he was about to lecture her. She could really do without one at that moment. It
was cold outside and she had a house to break into.

“Maybe you disregarded the idea that this house is simply
not being haunted. Or maybe it never occurred to you. Either way, even if there
is a ghost in there, which I find highly unlikely because ghosts don’t haunt
entire neighborhoods, this is not going to help. They bother individual
locations or specific people. Not to mention you are not a ghost hunter. What
will you do if you find one inside?”

She tapped her bag. “Banish the ghost.”

“With whatever you have in there? You’ll send it away?”

Mindy grinned, which tugged at the scar on the side of her
face. “Yes.”

Jonah laughed, a long hard sound. She took a step back; she
had not expected that from him. He laughed at her? The man was a blood-oathed
evil fighter. He found it amusing that she intended to get rid of a ghost?

“What is so funny?” Her hands shook but she didn’t want him
to notice so she turned her attention back to the task at hand, getting into
the house.

Jonah placed his hand on hers to stop her. “There is no
reason to break into this house. Nothing you have in that bag will send off a
ghost. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I have been studying. I have been doing a ton of reading.”

He nodded, his brown eyes solemn. “Yes, I know, sweetheart. But
whatever you’re reading is full of crap. You don’t have a ghost here and you
couldn’t have sent it off anyway.”

“It’s not possible or
I
couldn’t?” There was a
difference. A very important, distinct difference.

“The second one.” He took her hand as if he’d pull her from
the house. She yanked it away. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs.

“When you brought me here, you said you would teach me to
take care of myself. You haven’t and now when I take matters into my own hands,
you act as if I’m stupid. I’m not.” She jabbed him in the chest. “There’s
nothing so special about you that makes it possible for you to do things I
can’t. Nothing whatsoever. Your blood oath doesn’t make you better at handling
ghosts.”

She went to jab him again and he tugged her up against him
instead. “Watch where you jab that finger. It hurt.”

“That was kind of the point, douchebag.”

Jonah sucked in his breath. “I don’t like you using that
kind of language. It doesn’t sound natural coming out of your mouth.”

She would have spoken again, but he shoved his hand over her
mouth to stop her. “Someone is coming.”

Jonah pulled her into the shadows of the house, hiding her
from view with his body. She wanted to fight him, but it seemed
counterproductive. One of the owners—the father—had come home. He whistled
while he walked up to the side door. Why was he going in that way and how had
she been so preoccupied that she missed him?

He looked over his shoulder, shoved his key in the door and
entered the house, closing the door behind him.

After a second, Jonah let her go. She took a step away from
him.

“Thanks for noticing he was coming.”

“Right. Well, my blood-oathed self is trained for that kind
of thing.” He would throw her words right back at her. She rolled her eyes and
put her hands in her pockets.

“I’m just going to wait until he leaves again.”

Jonah shook his head. “He’s in for the night. Want to know
how I know that? Well, I know a Satan worshiper when I see one. It’s usually
from the tattoo on their left hand. The six-six-six gives it away. And I’m
afraid that what you don’t have here is a haunting. You have some demon raising
and it’s screwing up the whole neighborhood. Foy and I are going to handle it tomorrow.
When it’s not Walpurgisnacht and they’re not about to conduct a ritual. But, if
you want, you can head on inside and see if they like to bleed blondes who bust
through their doors without thinking.”

Damn Jonah.
She turned and stormed away. Why did he
always have to be so right and why did he have to be so smug about it? Why had
he ever brought her to Chicago to begin with? Tears streamed down her cheeks
and she applauded herself that she hadn’t let him see them. Nothing ever went
the way it should.

* * * * *

“You have a real way with women.”

Jonah jumped. He knew immediately how Mindy must feel every
time he did it to her. Making Mindy jump had been one of the most amusing
things he’d done lately. The way her breasts swung when she moved fast made his
cock harden.

Then again, almost everything Mindy did caused him to get
erect since the moment he’d met her in Austin, six months earlier.

“Braxton. What brings you to Chicago?” Braxton, an inch or
two taller than Jonah’s six feet, was the only one of his classmates who could
knock him to the ground with barely a look on a regular basis and Jonah hadn’t
seen him in years. If he’d heard the man speak three sentences together in the
last decade he’d be surprised.

“Foy.” Braxton looked up at the sky and Jonah followed his
gaze. There were stars in the blackness, visible, distinct gaseous bodies
making the sky look magical.

“I asked him to come.” Foy walked into the clearing. “I
thought we could use some help emptying the house. It seemed like a three-person
job to me. Braxton here is a bit at odds. Perhaps he can re-find his purpose
inside those walls.”

“Right.” Jonah pushed all thoughts of Mindy and her sad eyes
from his mind. She couldn’t have participated in this. It was far above her
abilities and, if he did nothing else, he would find a way to keep her safe for
as long as he could.

He moved forward and Braxton grabbed his arm to stop him. Foy
took the lead and Jonah had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from
objecting. When Jonah lived in New Orleans, he hadn’t answered to Foy for every
decision he made, but these were his two years working one-on-one with his
Master and with six months left in his time, he had to remember who was in
charge in Chicago.

Jonah owed Foy everything.

Braxton spoke softly. “Did you get the invitation?”

“Gossiping, Braxton? I never would have thought of you as
being so chatty.”

Foy looked over his shoulder. “You two are worse than
teenagers. Can we get the chit-chat done so we can bust through this door and
stop them from raising a demon? Yes, we all got Christian’s wedding invitation.
Would you two like to discuss this some more, or can we do what we came here to
do?

Jonah nodded. “I’m all set. Thanks.”

This had been the strangest night. He’d thought they were
going after the demon worshipers the next night. What changed? And what if he
hadn’t stumbled upon Mindy? Would she now be wrapped up in all of this?

Foy kicked down the door. Apparently they were not being
subtle.

Jonah gritted his teeth. “I really hope there’s no one
inside there with a gun.”

But, as he always did, he followed Foy through the door. Screams
from around the corner caught his attention and he left Foy and Braxton to take
down the man of the house who came at them holding a knife. Jonah wasn’t concerned.
Knives could be easily dealt with. Guns were a whole different matter.

He charged down the basement stairs, taking them two at a
time, and arrived at a scene he’d witnessed before but would prefer never to
see again. A woman—he quickly cataloged her. Young, mid-twenties, Latina,
nude—strapped to a table, restrained by her hands and feet—while an old woman
in her seventies stood over her wielding a knife.

By the few marks on the victim’s skin, he could tell the
ritual killing had begun. Kill the woman, raise the demon. He wouldn’t even be
surprised if they’d managed to find themselves a virgin for the deed. Poor
girl.

What did surprise him was the old woman holding the knife. It
wasn’t every day he encountered a grandmotherly devil worshiper.