One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress #6)(11)



“You’re not the only one who feels indebted to him,” Bones said quietly. Then his mouth curled as he focused on Fabian. “Though you could’ve set an easier task before us.”

“I’ll do whatever you need to assist you,” Fabian vowed, his expression brightening with such hope that my heart twisted. I might feel confident in our abilities to deal with Kramer’s accomplice if we found out who the newest acolyte was in time, but I didn’t even know if it was possible to kill a ghost. Bones had threatened exorcism on a couple of them before; but according to Elisabeth, that probably wouldn’t work. Seeing Fabian’s obvious faith made me afraid for more reasons than the idea of a murderer going free. I was afraid I’d let him down after all he’d done for me.

“We know you will, mate. You’ve already proven that,” Bones replied.

“Thank you,” Elisabeth said, her voice very soft. Something shone in her eyes that I’d swear were tears on any other person. “I came here with little hope. Your kind usually doesn’t bother with mine no matter the circumstances.”

“Yeah?” My smile was wry. “Just call me an equal opportunity ass-kicker, because Kramer and his assistant deserve to be taken out no matter what species they are.”

“Perhaps it’s best if you stay in Fabian’s room while we determine our first course of action,” Bones suggested, giving Fabian a slanted look before returning his attention to Elisabeth. “Safer if energy’s emitting from a room in the house that other ghosts are used to its coming from.”

“Of course,” Elisabeth replied, smoothing her long skirt as she floated into a standing position. “I will be very discreet.”

“Fabian can also fill you in on the house rules. We’ll talk more once my wife and I have rested for the day.”

Both ghosts took the hint, vanishing with more murmured thanks. I waited until I felt the energy in the room dissipate before turning to Bones.

“You sly matchmaker, you.”

His grin held more than a hint of wickedness. “If I didn’t give the bloke an edge, he’d likely spend the next century working up the courage to pay her a compliment.”

“Shameless,” I teased him, being sure to keep my voice low since I didn’t know how far Fabian and Elisabeth had spoofed off to.

Bones’s laugh flowed over me, dark and promising. “Indeed, as I intend to prove once we’re in bed.”

Tired I might have been, with too many things on my mind and on my plate, but only an idiot passed up that kind of invitation.

“Race you there,” I whispered, and dashed up the stairs.





Five



I snapped the cover over my iPad, not crumpling up the device in a fit of anger only because it was too damn expensive.

“What a sick, crazed *!” I spat.

Bones glanced over at me before returning his attention to the road. “Told you not to start reading that book.”

Yeah, well, it was a long drive to Washington, D.C., the book was available to buy online, and studying my target was my first step when I began a hunt. I knew the Malleus Maleficarum would be filled with superstitious bull crap, but I had underestimated the depths of its viciousness. I didn’t know what disgusted me more: the precepts set forth by Kramer, or the knowledge that hundreds of years and countless deaths occurred before the average person stopped believing that he was correct.

“The accused had no chance,” I continued to fume. “Evidence was something none of them cared about. All someone needed to do was get a ‘feeling’ that a person was a witch, and boom, an Inquisitor could take her. Confessions were extracted by torture—described in sickening detail, I might add—and even if the poor woman confessed before being tortured, she’d be tortured anyway just for ‘confirmation.’ And if any of the accused managed not to confess no matter what horrific things were done to them, they were burned to death anyway because then they were considered to be unrepentant. Jesus!”

A grunt. “Don’t think He had anything to do with it, luv.”

“Bet your ass,” I muttered. Religion might have been the excuse, but power and depravity were the real culprits. “Do you know Kramer considered women responsible for everything from impotence to failed crops—and that’s not getting started on his obsession with their inherently evil, insatiable slutty natures, of course.”

Bones’s mouth curled. “Want to kill him a great deal now, do you?”

“Oh, so much.” My hands itched with the urge to do violence to Kramer, but since he’d only be solid when he was burning new victims alive on Halloween, that would be too late. I’d have to settle for finding a way to dispatch him while he was still in vaporous form, and that—sadly—wouldn’t involve dismemberment, I’d bet.

The look Bones threw my way said he could guess my thoughts. Or maybe he noticed me clenching my hands into fists.

“Chin up, Kitten. Perhaps the chap we’re meeting will find a particularly brutal way to banish the sod for good.”

“You seem pretty relaxed about this whole situation,” I said with mild exasperation, noting the nonchalance in his tone and vibe.

Bones all but rolled his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be? For the first time in years, our relationship is solid, no one’s actively trying to murder us, and our closest mates are happy. Blimey, Kitten, if I were any more relaxed, I’d need a smoke.”

Jeaniene Frost's Books