Haunted Years (Shadow Promised Book 3) Read online

  She opened her eyes to look at him. “I want you. Inside me. Now.”

  Braxton didn’t need any other invitation. He surged inside her. In that moment, when her muscles clenched around him, he could remember how he had felt this way before. The last time, on the airplane, he’d known peace when he’d entered her and the same sensation surged through him now.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing him tightly, meeting his thrusts by raising her hips until the friction between them made it impossible for him to think.

  Yes, he needed this. Life became all about Heather, the small noises she made, the way her body moved against his. He would make her come again, this time with his cock buried where he most wanted it to be.

  It might have taken minutes, hours, he had no idea. But eventually he felt it, the way her muscles moved faster, the rhythm of her breathing. She was going to find pleasure and he was giving it to her.

  Reaching down, he found her clit and stroked it, adding to the pressure already building between them. Heather called out and her juices soaked him. He grinned until seconds later stars filled his vision.

  He came over and over again before he collapsed on top of her.

  He must be crushing her. He knew it. There just wasn’t anything he could do about it at that moment. Remembering how to breathe took all he had left.

  Chapter Six

  Jim rubbed at his eyes. The stressed look was back—the one where the small lines appeared and his forehead creased slightly. Heather had been watching him for minutes while he stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t realized he had a “stressed face” until it had appeared back on his features. The absence of it had illuminated its existence to her.

  “What are you thinking about?” Please don’t let it be that you regret what just happened.

  “A number of things.”

  He wasn’t going to explain more than that? She pulled the covers up to her chin and sat up.

  “That’s vague.” Where were her clothes?

  “I’m not always that good at explaining myself.” He pulled her back down against him and she immediately felt warmer in his arms. The man radiated heat.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “And?”

  “Does that mean you want me to tell you what I’m thinking about?”

  How had he missed that? “Yes please.”

  “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “That was really hot, what we just did.”

  “Putting it mildly.” Her insides would be sore for weeks. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

  “But there’s something wrong with it, with the fact that we just got that hot in here, right here and now.”

  “Oh.” She sat up, pulling out of his arms. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  “I think you misunderstood me. See? This is why I don’t share.”

  She took a steadying breath. He’d just told her there had been something wrong with what had happened between them. Could he not see how that could be a tiny bit insulting?

  “Maybe you’d better explain again.” Before she found something to throw at his head.

  “I want you all the time. There’s no question about that.”

  She unclenched her fists from around the sheets. If he was backpedaling, that was fine—she really preferred his new statement to his last.

  “Okay.”

  He sat up and ran his hand up and down his arm. “We’re in dire straits here. Should either of us be thinking about sex? An uncontrollable urge to fuck right then and there when we should be assessing our situation and figuring out what kind of trouble we’re in? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’d gladly have sex with you any time, anywhere, but frankly I’m shocked we were both ready to go like that.”

  His words bounced around in her head. He did have a point. It had been hot. She had no regrets. But why had it happened so uncontrollably?

  “What do you think it was?” She was so completely out of her element here. Years of dealing with ghosts screaming at her had not prepared her for this situation at all.

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.” He stood. For a second, before he picked up his briefs, she had a good view of his toned ass. Her mouth watered and her insides creamed. She swallowed. Yes, he was correct. She wanted, even craved him, but this was a bit much.

  She stood. No way, no how was she staying behind in this room while he went and checked things out. They had to stay together.

  “Pendleton told us to dress for dinner. We have no ability to do that. Unless…” Jim flung open the closet door and sucked in his breath. “Holy shit.”

  “What?” With all the revelations happening in this room, she really needed to be dressed. She ran her hands up and down the goose bumps on her arms. Clothes seemed like a very, very good idea.

  She found hers on the floor and got into them as fast as she could manage. Her hands were shaking again. “Jim. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “There are clothes in the closet.” He stepped aside so she could see. Sure enough, hung neatly within was both male and female attire. She moved closer to get a better look. Full-length gowns mixed with less formal-looking dresses and skirts for her. A tuxedo for a man and less fancy suits, all of them out of date in terms of style.

  “I guess it makes sense since it’s 1955.” She sighed.

  “What?” Jim turned to look at her.

  “Sorry. I spoke aloud. I was thinking that the clothes are all outdated.” She ran her hand down the softness of one of the gowns. It was satin and light blue. “And then I reasoned they’re actually not out of date, because we’re in the time when they were popular.”

  “Have you ever been to Disney World?” Jim tugged on one of the suits until he’d removed it from the hanger. Seconds later, he laid it on the bed and stared down on it.

  “Did you ask me about Disney or did I imagine it?”

  “I did. Have you?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Once. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I’ve been about a dozen times. I like to go. It just makes me feel better to see so many people wandering around the park, unaware of demons, unaware of doom. Small children. I go in between jobs when I can swing it. I prefer Orlando to Anaheim, so it’s a process getting there.”

  Heather had never heard him string so many words together and he was talking about Disney?

  “Anyway, there’s a ride there called the Carousel of Progress. It’s not really a ride. You kind of sit in these chairs and move in a circle, staring at scenes in front of you. It moves through time until something that resembles now is in front of you. It’s all about technology and how things move on to make things easier on us.”

  “Right. I don’t remember. I was six the last time I went. We never went back and I’ve been too unwell to plan a trip for a long time.”

  “You’re not unwell.” He shook his head before walking over to a chest of drawers. He opened one and laughed. “Underwear. Looks like all the necessities are here.” Had something happened to Jim? He seemed so…chatty.

  “Does it concern you at all that these clothes are here? That they must have belonged to someone else?”

  “No.” He shrugged. “I think they’re here for us. I think the ghost arranged it. And I’m going to chalk it up to more weirdness. Anyway, like I was saying about the carousal of progress…”

  “Right.” She put her hand on his arm. “Is there a point to it?” If Jim was losing his mind, they were in big trouble.

  “Getting there. I guess the point is that I’ve never given one hoot of a thought about the 1950s except in terms of watching it at Disney World. I’m not educated, outside knowing just about everything having to do with the paranormal. I’m going to be totally out of my element in this. I guess I’d better just go for it.”

  She walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist. He stiffened in her arms. “I did a lot of schooling. Even through my years of being crazy.”

  “You’re not—”


  Heather interrupted his interruption. “I know. I’m not crazy. Let me finish. Anyway, I went to school and I’m completely out of my element here. We’ll both have to somehow fake our way through this.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth. “Sounds like a plan.”

  She sighed. All she wanted to do was go back to bed with him right that second.

  “Maybe we’d better not touch for a while.”

  Jim cleared his throat. “Good idea.”

  “Do you think the suit will fit?” She couldn’t help but be fixated on the fact that there were clothes in the room waiting for them. It was just a step too far in the wrong direction. All this had made sense in some off-kilter kind of a way until then. Had someone laid out the clothes for them? How could any of this be working?

  “Are you okay?” Jim stared at her while he adjusted his shirt.

  “No. None of this is okay. But I guess I’m going to put on a dress from that closet and go with you out there into the home of some psychopath so we can figure out who killed him and get back home.”

  Jim pulled her against him and she shuddered. Why did his touch make her want to melt into a puddle of mush on the floor?

  “You can stay here. I think Pendleton brought you here because he needed you to move us through time. You can talk to ghosts, see them. I can’t. But now that we’re here, I can handle it. Stay here. Curl up under the covers. Wait for me.”

  “There are two ways I could take what you just said to me. The first one is to be royally insulted that you think I’m the kind of woman who would curl up in bed and let my boyfriend…” She stuttered at what she’d just said. They’d had sex all of twice and she’d just called him the B word. Had she blown it?

  Jim raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “Oh. Um.” Sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She needed food again. Or maybe she just wanted to run away and hide? “Let you take care of things. If you think I’m the kind of woman who would simply let you go take care of things while I hide in bed, then you’ve hugely misjudged me. Or I could think that you are being sweet and want me protected, which is kind and sort of alpha-male of you.”

  Jim leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Which one of those ways have you decided to take what happened?”

  “The second way.” Because she didn’t want to be angry with him when she was so damn afraid.

  She turned toward the closet. Hopefully the clothes weren’t cursed or poisoned. Both options seemed reasonable under the circumstances.

  “There’s an awful lot of red in this house. The walls, the rugs. What’s up with that?”

  He could hear the tension in Heather’s voice. She was managing very well, considering the circumstances. Especially because he wasn’t sure if he was about to have a major freak-out himself.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” She squeezed his hand.

  “Yes.” But he didn’t want to tell her. Or better yet, he wanted to deposit her somewhere where she would be safe and go and look into things himself. Heather didn’t belong in this kind of life, even if she could see ghosts. She should be protected, allowed to live in security where she could choose which ghosts she wanted to see and which ones she didn’t.

  And hopefully she would only want to see the ones who wanted to talk to her about bunnies and hopscotch…

  “Hello.” She raised her voice. “Are you going to answer me? Where are we going?”

  So much for bunnies…

  “The basement. All bad things happen in the basement.” Which was exactly why they had no choice but to start there.

  “What do you think is in the basement?” Her voice shook.

  “Nothing good.”

  “You must have some idea of what to expect.”

  He shook his head. “I never have any clue, so I always presume it’s going to be a worst-case scenario.”

  She didn’t answer. Had he terrified her into silence? If they got through this with her psyche still intact, he’d consider himself a fortunate man. He’d promised to protect Heather, not turn her into a raving lunatic.

  He opened and closed several doors before he found the basement. In the distance, he could hear staff working in the kitchen. Whether or not they knew what went on in Pendleton’s house—and he would guess they suspected if nothing else, since it was kind of hard to miss a lot of evildoing—would remain to be seen. He wasn’t here to arrest anybody—he was here to find a murderer.

  In the meantime, he thought there was probably a demon in the basement. Or the remains of one. The cold air pushing upward from below hit him in the face. Pendleton either had a meat locker or a demon in the basement.

  “Part of me wants you to stay up here and the other part is terrified of what will happen to you if we separate.” He paused. Letting go of control wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. He clenched his teeth before he spoke again. “Which would you prefer?”

  Heather stared down the stairs toward the dark basement. “Don’t leave me. I won’t be able to protect you if I’m not by your side.”

  “Protect me?” He would have argued but then he saw the smirk on her mouth. She’d just made a joke. He snickered and shook his head. If she could be funny, she wasn’t about to dissolve into a puddle of terror on the floor.

  She elbowed him. “Get moving. I assume there’s something bad down there.” “Right.” She wasn’t clueless, he had to give her credit for that.

  “And maybe that something is what killed Pendleton.”

  Braxton sighed. He wished he could say yes. “I suspect Pendleton died from human interference. He’s probably got full control over the paranormal in this house. I could be wrong. But I would guess whatever I’m checking out down there isn’t what ended him.”

  She swallowed, her neck muscles clenching. “Then why are we checking it out?” “Because that’s what I do.”

  “You purposely go where others would be running in fear.”

  She had the funniest way of putting things. “Don’t make it sound anything other than crazy, because that’s what it is.”

  He walked in front of her and she stayed close on his heels. Together they crept down the stairs. They didn’t creak, and he realized after a second that they weren’t made of wood. Had Pendleton managed to have his staircase designed using steel? He hadn’t noticed that in the empty version of the house. But maybe he hadn’t been focused. Maybe he was just losing his touch…

  On the table he saw it. For a second he couldn’t believe the sheer audacity of the whole thing. Strapped down, as if rope could really stop a demon who wanted to move, was an Incubus.

  It turned its head to look at him and Braxton stopped moving. “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Heather pressed her head against his back and he shuddered. While he should be rushing forward to kill the evil being, he was instead as hard as a rock and ready to come in his pants if Heather kept touching him.

  “Let go. Back up a few steps.” His voice sounded hoarse but he was lucky he could speak at all. Heather did as he asked but he heard her sharp intake of breath. This was affecting her too.

  He shuddered when the Incubus raised its finger and motioned him forward. “Come.”

  Braxton almost moved. Damn the Incubi and their seductive abilities. Intellectually he could see that it was a monster. Brown leathery skin, big red eyes and two wings with sharp points did not make it physically appealing.

  But the Incubus was a demon designed to entice humans despite its physical nastiness.

  “We’re not going to be letting you out. I’m not exactly sure why you’re stuck there but, for the moment, I’m glad you are.”

  He sucked in his breath. His sexual urges were painful. Every hair on his body stood up. Braxton wanted to double over in pain or take the opportunity to grab his dick and relieve his ache. Neither option suited him at that moment, so he forced himself to move forward.

  “Free me.” The Incubus sounded musical and Braxton knew he could
listen to it forever.

  “Heather, promise me that you won’t move toward it. I know you want to. I know you want me right now. This is an Incubus. It’s a sex demon. Scary as that is to think about. The fact that it’s in the house is probably why we were so completely compelled to go at it earlier when we might have held off until we were safe in other circumstances.” He grinned at her because he needed to somehow make this okay. Not that he had ever seen an Incubus strapped to a table before.

  “What are you going to do with it?” She rubbed at her neck and her eyes appeared dilated. He needed to get this done fast before they both lost control.

  “Send it back to Hell.” This time when he spoke his breath showed in the air. He shivered. The demon must be pissed. It was dropping the temperature in the basement degree by degree.

  The Incubus hissed, a loud snakelike sound. “You can’t do that. You’re nothing. Not even he can really hold me here.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Braxton shook his head. Demons were always spewing nonsense about their own invincibility. “A friend of mine has a girlfriend with no training and she sent a more powerful demon than you right back to the pit by cutting off its head.”

  “You want her.” The Incubus spoke softly. “Strongly. I can feel it. I feed off it. Earlier your passion made me strong, and as all the people in this house give in to their desires, I grow even tougher. While you figure out your puny human way of getting rid of me, I will become so powerful you will never send me away.”

  Braxton laughed and was rewarded when the demon flinched. “See? Here’s the thing. I have very few psychic powers. My Shadow Promised brothers are tougher than me. But one thing I can do is send you away. When I make things disappear, they stay gone.”

  “How—?”

  He didn’t let the creature finish. Braxton raised his head. His skin warmed as his brain let his body know what he intended to do. He hadn’t misspoken when he’d told the demon what he could do. It was a strange ability but he did it well.

  “Be gone.” His body vibrated. Somewhere in the back of his mind where rational thought still existed he wondered if his body really did shake or if it only felt that way to him. Was the sensation only in his own head? If Heather put her hand on him right at that second would she feel it?