Ghosts of the Falls

by

Sarah Gilman

This story was inspired in part by a real logging tragedy on the Connecticut River in the 1800s. This HEA is for you, Charles.

Chapter One

What an odd place for an exorcism.

Jade Clarence walked along a dirt road through lush, green woods, her legs stiff after the three-hour drive into Maine. During her career, she’d exorcised malicious spirits from unwilling human hosts, houses, schools, cemeteries, even a grocery store, but never from a remote state park.

The trees formed a cathedral ceiling of green overhead, and the wide Quinnetukut River rushed over the rocky riverbed to her left before narrowing and plunging into a gorge. Such a vibrant place, so full of life. It should have been immune to a haunting.

Perhaps the man who had called about the ghost was a smart-ass prankster? He’d sounded sincere, according to her brother Jeremy’s notes. Besides, there had been other witnesses to the unusual Hutchinson Park Motel haunting and the fire that followed.

Shattering windows. Levitating furniture. Water turning red. If the description of the haunting turned out to be accurate, a spirit more powerful than any her family had encountered in decades, since her grandfather’s time, inhabited the area.

That said a lot about how much her younger brother Jeremy still trusted her, despite all the mistakes she’d made recently. This was her chance to prove herself, to earn her brothers’ respect and to convince them not to cast her out of the family business.

Unclenching her fisted hands, she forced herself to relax. She held too much stress in her body these days. Grinding her teeth in her sleep. Tension headaches. Sometimes a muscle ticked next to her eye. After she removed this ghost, she should spend a few extra days here, breathing the air, watching the trees sway in the breeze. Perhaps she could find a nice swimming spot where she could relax in the sun. Then she could go home refreshed, to resume her normal workload.

The road led, supposedly, to the grave of the ghost blamed for the incidents. Nearing the gorge, Jade picked up her pace. The burial site was, in her experience, the best place to start.

Hutchinson’s Falls, read a faded, wooden sign mounted on a tree. The roar of the rushing water drowned out the bird songs of the forest. Mist from the falls moistened both her face and her inappropriate-for-hiking-in-the-woods black cotton dress. When she’d first arrived, she hadn’t thought she’d have to venture this far. Shivering, she kept walking, alert for any signs of a spirit presence.

“Hello there, ma’am,” a male voice called.

Jade’s breath caught in her throat and she pivoted. Several yards away, a man lifted his hands and showed her his palms. He appeared about her age—mid-twenties. He wore heavy boots and dark pants. The toasted skin tone of his bare torso and his physical condition suggested he spent all day, each day, laboring in the sun.

Nice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said in a warm, pleasant voice. “I live nearby. Not many of the park visitors venture all the way out here, so I thought maybe you’d gotten lost.”

She held out her hand as he approached, hoping he turned out as friendly as he sounded. More nervous of a man—and a handsome one at that—on a public trail than of a possible ghost in the area? That was her life, having grown up around spirits but never having much luck socializing with the living. “I’m Jade Clarence. I’m not lost. I was just looking around.”

“They call me Dutch.” He shook her hand, his eyebrows raised. “Clarence. So, you’re the exorcist? I wasn’t expecting you. No one returned my call.”

Ah, so he was the client. Dutch Vernon, according to the file. She swallowed, forced a neutral expression, and hoped he wouldn’t take offense at the truth. “I wanted to visit the site firsthand before we spoke. We get many prank calls.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do. No worries.” Dutch rubbed the back of his neck and glanced toward the falls. “So, can you sense the ghost?”

“I haven’t noticed anything yet, but I just got here.”

“You will.” His eyes, dark brown with flecks of green, shifted back in her direction. Her heart sped up under the force of his intense, honest stare. “I swear.”

Let’s hope so. She wouldn’t mind sticking around to see those eyes again. “Tell you what, Mr. Vernon, I’m staying in the park’s campground. Tomorrow I’ll have a better idea what I’m dealing with. Would you be willing to give me a tour in the morning? I need to see the burial site you mentioned when you called.”

“Of course. The grave is on the other side of the gorge. It’s tricky to find but not impossible to reach.” He paused, his gaze wandering over her face. “And you can call me Dutch. See you then, Jade.”

He walked away along the road, and the corners of Jade’s mouth grew heavy. If only there’d been something to talk to him about besides the haunting. When had she last had a conversation with a good-looking man?

She shook her head. Her regular schedule left no time for dating or romance. Though far from either of those, spending the morning with Dutch would be a welcome change of pace.

With a sigh, she returned to her car, checked her scribbled directions, and headed for the campground.

…

Dutch’s corporeal body dissolved into the breeze like a wisp of fog. All physical sensation faded, leaving him with only his thoughts and his disappointment.

Despite the reputation of the Clarence family he’d gleaned from the computer in the park’s office, Jade hadn’t picked up on what he was even after looking him in the eye and shaking his hand. Hopefully, his physical body had simply masked him from whatever senses she relied on.

He drifted through the trees, moving like a gust of wind toward the campground on the far side of the ten-thousand-acre park. Beyond the gorge, the river calmed and widened. A cluster of colorful tents lined one side of the rock-strewn bank. He skimmed the ground, passing through the trunks of pine and oak trees. A Labrador sitting in front of a red tent lifted its head and growled.

Rustic cabins sat on a cleared knoll with a view of the river. A black Chevy sedan sat in front of the park office, a Tinker Bell doll hanging from the rearview mirror—Dutch had seen the character many times on the tiny, fascinating computers children carried around these days.

He hovered at the base of a flagpole and waited.

Jade emerged from the office, clutching paperwork, and eased the screen door shut. Her earthy coloring reminded him of the Abenaki Native Americans who owned the land north of the park.

She froze halfway to her car and shivered, despite the sun that lit up her features. She scanned her surroundings, her eyes half-closed as if paying more attention to senses other than sight.

That’s more like it. Dutch drifted closer and stopped a foot in front of her.

Her gaze didn’t focus on him. She closed her eyes and inhaled a slow, deep breath. “Hello, Spirit.”

Dutch stayed silent. By focusing energy behind his thoughts, he could manifest his voice without his physical body, but she would recognize him. They had a date in the morning, and he longed for the opportunity for a normal conversation, absent of the “I’m a ghost and I want to be exorcised” topic.

Seeking company every so often, he would assume his corporeal body and speak with fishermen about trout and the weather, but he hadn’t spoken to a woman since his death. None of the female tourists who visited the park over the years had been worth the trouble, and most came with their husbands and children, anyway. In his non-corporeal form, he spent most days hovering among the guests so loneliness didn’t drive him out of his incorporeal skull.

A date, even if it wasn’t really a date, would be a good note on which to end his dead-end existence.

“Can you hear me?” Jade’s voice jerked him from his thoughts.

He lacked hands, but he reached toward her face with the concentrated energy that comprised his self and stroked her cheek.

A shiver shook her body and she stepped back. Her voice firmed, revealing the power of the exorcist that lay just out of sight beneath her sweet face. “Don’t touch me.”

Dutch retreated skyward, startling a flock of ravens out of the pine trees. After a long moment, Jade got in her car and drove to the cabin at the far end of the knoll. She dragged three large bags from her trunk—did women really need that much luggage?—and went inside.

He hovered above the park as the sun set in a vibrant display of gold. If the exorcism proved successful, he wouldn’t be around to see another sunset. Better to embrace oblivion than to spend endless years alone, and what better way to go out than in the hands of a beautiful woman?

Chapter Two

Waiting for water to boil for tea, Jade called Dutch and told him in which cabin to find her. She hung up, carried a steaming mug of raspberry tea onto the porch, and breathed in the crisp morning air.

She’d gotten her first restful night’s sleep since she’d learned of an old woman’s death a week ago, a murder committed by a ghost Jade had refused to exorcise. Prior to the murder, the ghost had harmed no one and damaged no property—he wasn’t even powerful. He’d haunted a rarely used barn, for goodness’ sake. Jade made the decision not to destroy the spirit, despite family policy to deal with all ghosts encountered.

Exorcisms caused so much pain. The horrific screams didn’t bother her when they came from dangerous spirits, but in that barn, she’d faced the scared, confused form of a teenager.

Damn it, he’d conned her and managed to command enough power to wield a knife. It wasn’t just embarrassing, it was tragic. Tears swelled in Jade’s eyes, and her trembling hand made the spoon clatter against the ceramic mug. The elderly property owner’s death was her fault. Aaron, her older brother, had wanted to fire her on the spot and still hadn’t relented. Jeremy, the youngest but the most natural leader of the three of them, had given her this opportunity to prove she still had the grit and desire to perform a full exorcism. If she failed here, Jeremy would support her removal from the family business; not as a punishment, but out of concern for her happiness.

Thank goodness for the rest. She needed her strength and her wits to take on a spirit. Part of her had wanted to jump right in the previous evening, but one of the first lessons Aaron had taught her was to work during the day when spirits were at their weakest and the living at their strongest.

The breeze shifted and the scent of burnt sugar invaded her lungs. Her skin buzzed as if she’d brushed against an electric fence, and the tiny hairs on her arms stood on end.

Well, at least the ghost wasn’t shy.

“Good morning, spirit.” She set her tea down on a plastic table, covered in dust and pine needles. “Do you know what I am and why I’m here?”

The presence didn’t answer.

“Why did you burn down the motel?”

The scent of burnt sugar strengthened: an emotional reaction. Anger? Regret?

She folded her arms. Even if he regretted his actions, she needed to do her job, not repeat previous mistakes. “If you have something to say, now is the time.”

A frigid gale slammed the cabin. The plastic table flipped over, spilling the tea. She jumped back and opened her mouth to speak the words that would force the spirit back, but the presence had vanished on its own, leaving abrupt stillness in its wake.

Holy shit. A spirit who could manipulate the elements like that was a powerful entity, for certain. She had to put her job as priority, even though a strong part of her wanted to spend time with Dutch. This ghost would fight back, hard.

Maybe she could ask Dutch out for coffee after the fact?

Jeremy might be right. Despite her gut-knotting need to prove herself to her brothers, she longed for simpler things. Normal things, such as a gaze from rich brown eyes with green flecks. Warm, confident hands on her skin. A smile pulled at her lips as she straightened the table. Yes, Dutch had the look of a man who knew how to touch a woman.

She went inside for more tea and to finish getting ready. Trekking in the woods called for jeans and a tank top, the light-tan one that made her plain brown eyes look rich and deep, her dark skin darker.

Not that it mattered what she looked like. This was work, not a date. She sighed and braided her mahogany hair.

A knock sounded on the door just as she slipped a band around her braid.

Dutch’s voice called, “Jade?”

“You got the right place.” She slung the tan canvas bag with her materials over her shoulder and joined him on the porch. Like yesterday, he wore dark brown pants and work boots, but he’d covered his upper body with a brown T-shirt.

Shame.

“Morning.” They spoke in unison, and a flush crept up Jade’s cheeks.

“Did you sense the ghost last night?” He leaned against the lacquered logs of the cabin’s exterior.

“Yes. This morning, too. I’ve never encountered a spirit this strong, and he’s definitely hostile. He could hurt a lot of people.”

“There’s a big fair this weekend, and hundreds are expected to visit the park. Best if he’s dealt with before then.” He straightened, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m glad you came. So, you want to see the grave?”

“Yes, please.”

His forehead creased. “Why?”

“Access to a subject’s grave is a boon during an exorcism. I won’t need the spirit’s presence to bind him.” She led him off the porch, the creaky boards of the cabin giving way to packed dirt and pine needles that imbued their scent into the air. “You seem nervous.”

He scratched behind his ear with a sheepish expression. “Graves are creepy. Especially haunted ones.”

She laughed. “Well, if it’s any consolation, spirits tend to avoid their own graves. They find it disconcerting.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t blame them. The grave is up by the falls, on the opposite side of where we met yesterday. I meant to pick you up, but I should apologize. My car wouldn’t start this morning.”

His gaze drifted down and to the left as he spoke. Jade paused, recognizing the telltale sign of lying. Why lie about something like that? Maybe it was simple embarrassment? Hard to say.

“I’ll drive us.” She jingled her keys. “How did you get here?”

He shrugged one shoulder and met her gaze—the latter motion a sign of telling the truth. “I walked. No big deal. I walk every day, anyway.”

Maybe he didn’t own a car and refused to admit it. Keeping her curiosity to herself, she unlocked the doors and they got in her car.

“Seatbelt,” she said when Dutch didn’t buckle immediately.

“There’ll be a hike to the gravesite,” Dutch said, fidgeting with the seatbelt for a moment as if he’d forgotten how it worked.

Was he that nervous? Jade could hardly imagine that she’d cause any guy to have the jitters. Must be he really disliked the idea of visiting a grave.

“There’s no road on the other side of the river. We’ll have to park at the bridge and walk from there.”

“No problem. It’s worth it.” Jade pulled out of the campground and made a sharp right onto the dirt road that traversed the sprawling park.

“Why Tinker Bell?” Dutch poked at the doll swinging from her rearview mirror.

“Because Tink is a feisty girl who puts up with a bunch of boys, like me. At least, I like to think of myself as feisty.” She made what she hoped was a mischievous smile, not a silly face. “My mother left when I was young, and I grew up with my father and two brothers. My three cousins Ryan, James, and Richard hang around quite a bit, too. And Uncle Frank.”

“Aha.” He pursed his lips in exaggerated consideration. “Yes, I can picture you as feisty as Tink. It suits you well.”

“Thank you.” Her smile widened, an unstoppable force pulling the corners of her mouth up, even though she tried to keep her happiness at his comment contained. “So, Dutch, how did you come to be the one to call in an exorcist?”

He rolled down the window and stuck his arm out. “Unlike the owners of the motel, I believe in spirits, and we’ve had a well-known ghost in the area for a long time. The people who were in the motel when the fire started say they saw furniture levitate and windows shatter, so I couldn’t believe the report that the fire was electrical in origin.”

She nodded. “It’s fortunate for the motel guests that the spirit decided to go for theatrics.”

“Why’s that?”

“Judging from the article I read, they fled because of the haunting, which likely saved their lives from the fire that consumed the motel moments later.” She ground her teeth. “A few weeks ago, I would have asked myself if the spirit did that on purpose and I would have bet he didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

A minute of silence passed, and he tilted his head. “What happened a few weeks ago?”

“Well…” This was not a conversation to have with a stranger, especially a client.

“Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

She cleared her throat and steered around a series of potholes and a suicidal chipmunk. “Tell me about the ghost. Why is someone buried out here in the first place?”

Dutch frowned and the wind from the open window teased his brown hair. “The Hutchinson ghost is quite the legend around here. Over a hundred years ago, a logger got knocked into the river by a falling tree and fell into the gorge. Park visitors have reported numerous sightings, usually along the river below the falls, where the body is said to have been recovered.”

“Sightings? Ghosts can’t be seen, except for the most powerful individuals, who are few and far between. Ghost sightings are most often pranks.” She swallowed. They did have a strong spirit on their hands. But that strong?

He shrugged. “Local fishermen report having spoken with a young man, and out-of-state tourists have said the same thing. None of them thought they were talking to a ghost at the time.”

“If they were able to see him at all, he’d be transparent.”

“Not according to the stories. Solid as you or me. Some report shaking hands with the guy. But later, he’d disappear.”

“Hmm.” She ran her fingers over her braided hair, trying to disguise massaging a tensing muscle in her neck. “Spirits powerful enough to assume corporeal form are the rarest kind. There have only been a couple observed by exorcists in recorded history. I would say someone was playing a prank on the park visitors, but there is a spirit here, no doubt about it. That issue aside, what else happened the day the logger died?”

“What do you mean?”

“It takes a significant event or events to bind a spirit to earth. His death must’ve been horrifying to experience, yes, but neither that nor the unusual burial can be responsible for his continued presence here.”

“Nothing else happened that I know of.” Dutch glanced down and to the left, a sure sign of another lie. Or, perhaps, he was looking at her legs?

She wiped her clammy hands on her jeans. Here she was discussing her job and he hadn’t mocked her once. Could the man get any sexier? “It’s nice to be able to talk openly about my profession. Even polite people have trouble hiding their skepticism most of the time.”

He grinned, and she couldn’t avert her gaze. Good thing she was driving slowly. She forced her attention to the road and yanked her thoughts away from Dutch. She had a problem. If the Hutchinson ghost was powerful enough to assume corporeal form, he was in a good position to try to stop them from reaching the grave and binding him.

Stay on your toes, Jade.

…

They crossed a covered bridge, and Dutch directed Jade to pull over to the side of the dirt road. He climbed out of the car, pleased that his first trip in a motor vehicle would also be his last. Nauseated, he swallowed and took a deep gulp of forest air. The familiar scents of pine and rotting leaves eased him, as did the illusion of life the act of breathing in and out offered.

“Hard to believe this area was logged.” Jade walked around the car, a canvas satchel hanging from her shoulder, her face upturned to the trees.

“The Vernon Logging Company completely cleared this area of mature trees in the eighteen hundreds, but nature has a way of reclaiming the land.” He tapped his knuckles against the thick bark of a maple so large and gnarled it must have been a small sapling left by the loggers. This tree has been alive as long as I’ve been dead.

“Any relation?”

“Pardon?”

“Vernon Logging Company. Relations of yours?”

Shit. He’d given his old boss’s last name when he’d spoken on the phone with her brother. “Oh, yes. I’m a descendant.”

Not entirely a lie. In the end, the company had been more like family than his blood kin.

“This way.” He pointed out a smear of orange paint on the trunk of a pine tree. “The park maintains a rough trail. It’s not heavily traveled, but the area where the grave is located is the best place to view the falls, so a few people make the trek now and then. May I carry your bag for you?”

She adjusted the strap. “Thank you, but I’m fine, both with the bag and on the trail.”

He grinned, pleased. His experience with women wasn’t what many people would think—prim and pretty ladies in their Victorian dresses, expecting men to carry everything for them and lay coats over puddles while they sat around drinking tea. Those images were far from the whole truth, at least for Vermont women. He didn’t find anything wrong with chivalry, but life in New England was a tough one for most, and the reality had been that women worked just as hard as men to survive.

These days, many of the women who visited the park lacked the grit he found attractive in women. They complained about imperfect cell service, about bugs, about building a fire, about boredom, and everyone seemed to have allergies. What they needed was a Vermont winter without electricity or vehicles, living on the food they grew and slaughtered during the summer.

Many of the women he’d observed would complain about the difficulty of this trail. Not Jade. She stepped past him and called over her shoulder, “Are you coming?”

“Of course.” He followed her off the packed dirt of the logging road and onto the layers of rotting leaves and pine needles of the forest floor. The rough path meandered around trees and granite outcrops as it guided them downhill, the terrain steep and muddy. The river rushed over a shallow, rocky bed to their right, and the ground leveled as they got closer to the gorge.

As they progressed, Jade picked wildflowers—they were abundant in the area above the falls, far more so than the rest of the park.

“What are you doing that for?”

“They have a purpose, trust me.” A feminine gasp escaped her lips when she spotted a wild rose bush, a massive beast of a plant that grew over a rocky outcrop and up a white birch tree. Palm-sized red blooms sagged a bit under the weight of morning dew. Jade stared with a hand over her mouth.

Were roses in the woods not common? He knew of several in the vicinity. So caught up in watching her, he walked into a tree, almost losing his physical form in surprise.

“Are you all right?” She rushed toward him, stumbling a bit on loose stones.

He brushed a leaf from his hair and straightened his shoulders. “You didn’t see that.”

She paused, chuckled, and held a finger up to her mouth. “Sure. I saw nothing.”

He fought the urge to reach out, push her delicate hand away from her lips, and find out if she tasted as sweet as the sound of her laughter. If he indulged that much, he’d be tempted to suddenly forget how to find the gravesite, forget that he brought her here to end him.

He turned away. He had to stay focused.

They moved on.

“You like roses?” he asked.

“I like the woods. I’ve never seen rose bushes like that growing wild. They’re far more beautiful and alluring out here than in a pampered garden. Someone must have planted them, though. Who takes care of them?”

“I’m not sure. Not my thing.” In truth, the roses and all the other flowers had always been there. He’d first seen them when he’d been alive, working for the logging company, clearing the area. After the clear-cutting, the trees and the flowers had grown back more quickly than he would have thought possible. But he’d been a ghost at that point, leaving him much less of a skeptic than he’d been in life.

She kept touching trees as she passed them, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. “Maybe they grow on their own. Spirits as powerful as the one haunting this forest are usually associated with an abundance of the naturally occurring energies that help life thrive.”

“Energies?”

“Life feeds off more than water and sunlight and nutrients.” She lifted her chin, her lips thinned, and her voice took on a defensive tone. “Science will advance enough to identify a dozen different energies that support life, probably soon.”

“I believe you.”

She missed a beat and stammered. “You do?”

“Looking at this place, it’s hard not to. And I already believe in ghosts.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“Could the energy in question trap the spirit in this world?”

“Trap him, no. Make him strong enough to appear, have conversations with fishermen, and burn down motels? Yes.”

“I see. But how do life-strengthening energies affect him? He’s dead.”

“Souls are living things,” she said, her voice quiet, somber. “They don’t belong in this world any longer, but they are still us.”

Interesting. He was still a living thing, on some level? In his physical form, it felt that way, but he considered those feelings and sensations illusions. He was dead. His bones lay in the earth less than a half-mile away, shattered from his fall into the gorge.

Having company chased away the emptiness that usually filled his chest. He took a side trail to show her the old-growth hemlocks, a cluster of massive, five-hundred-year-old trees.

“The logging company left them so the workers had a shady place during the day.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said, standing next to a trunk wider than her arm-span, staring upward.

“Yes, they are.” He stared at her, the real beauty of the spot. If only he could have a woman like this in his afterlife, he wouldn’t be in such a hurry to end it.

“How does an exorcism work? Anything like the movies?” Just last spring, the park’s outdoor theater had shown The Exorcist, giving Dutch the idea. Unlike the demon, Dutch wouldn’t fight, so the process wouldn’t be that violent, he hoped.

“Nothing like in the movies. My family is nondenominational, and clairvoyance is strong in our bloodline. We can sense spirits in our vicinity, and when we read from the text my great-grandfather wrote, we can destroy them.” Her throat worked and the humor in her expression vanished. “No theatrics involved. First I’ll bind him so he can’t escape, then I’ll read, which will erode his power until there’s nothing left. Unfortunately, it’s extremely painful for the spirit, and the stronger they are, the longer it takes.”

Dutch clenched his teeth, steeling his resolve. “May I ask why an exorcism is so severe? Is there no way to simply send a spirit on to heaven or hell or wherever it is they’re supposed to go after death?”

“Well…” She blew out a heavy sigh. “My great-grandfather, the first known clairvoyant in my family, wrote all the incantations we use, giving us a variety of tricks. Binding, exorcism, stripping a spirit of its will and commanding it like a puppet, etcetera. There are even passages that allow us to inflict pain on the spirit for as long as we want, with no purpose except to draw out the torture.”

She rubbed her face and continued. “A spirit killed my great-grandmother. My great-grandfather began writing exorcisms the next day. He never bothered to develop an incantation that would help a ghost move on. In his journal, he stated they didn’t deserve such mercy, that earth-bound spirits were inherently evil. Considering the number of malicious spirits that roam the earth, every generation has subscribed to his teachings without much question. It does seem that the majority spirits go insane and turn violent if stuck in this world.”

“I see.” Dutch shivered. The grief-stricken exorcist had been a bigot to judge all spirits in such a condemning way, but he hadn’t been far off the mark. The few other spirits Dutch had run into had been reservoirs of malice, intent on playing deadly games with the living. Thankfully, they’d all had such a low power level that the humans had noticed only cold drafts and strange noises, at most.

“I hate it,” she bit out. “It’s torture and forever destroys a human soul, yet we perform them at the drop of a hat.” She lifted a hand to her forehead. “Sorry. I’m… I can’t believe how much I don’t want to do this!”

He blinked, touched her arm, and pulled her to a stop. “What are you talking about?”

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I believe we perform too many exorcisms without being certain the spirit deserves such an end. For years, I’ve been researching, trying to write an incantation that would send spirits on to the next world without hurting them, to heaven or hell or wherever they’re supposed to go, like you say. I’ve failed so far. Recently, a spirit I thought was innocent tricked me, and my beliefs got an innocent woman killed.” She nodded and straightened her spine. “So… Let’s get going.”

He stared after her as she strode off ahead. Someone had been killed? “What?”

She stopped but didn’t turn. Her shoulders slumped.

“How’d she die?”

“The ghost I refused to exorcise,” she said, spitting the words.

Dutch rejoined her and reached out to touch her arm, but she took a step back.

“I need to finish this job,” she said, her voice firm but bitter. “If I don’t do my job again, people will get hurt or killed.”

“You were trying to find a better way to do that job,” he said slowly, choosing his words with care.

“It didn’t work.” She resumed walking. “I wish it had, but it didn’t.”

“It was worth the attempt. You didn’t kill that woman. You gave a spirit a second chance and he chose what to do with it.”

“I enabled him. By not exorcising him, I gave him the opportunity.”

“Bull. Every person you meet on the street could hurt someone someday. It’s not your fault if you think better of them.”

She stared at him, her arms folded. “Thanks.” She paused. “I’m sorry to act so unprofessional. I’ve had a rough couple of days.”

“I’m the one who is sorry. The last thing I want to do is add to your troubles.” He swallowed the desire to assure her that he’d never hurt anyone, that she could walk away guilt-free. But he needed this. He couldn’t continue enduring decade after lonely decade. She was his salvation. “Why do you do this if it bothers you so much?”

“It’s my job.” She smiled, though her chin trembled. “It’s my responsibility to protect people from violent spirits. I could leave and get a normal career as a normal person, but if things in the exorcist community are going to change, I need to be there, pushing for that change. If I keep researching, writing new incantations, maybe I’ll find the best solution for both the living and the deceased.”

He touched her hand. “I’m sure you’ll succeed.”

“Thank you.” She stared at their hands for a moment, then met his gaze. “Would you like to get dinner?”

He blinked. “Dinner?”

Color rose to her cheeks. “I’m asking you out to dinner. I know we just met, but—”

“I’d love to have dinner with you.” He tightened his grip on her hand and stroked her wrist with his thumb. “But… I’m sorry. I won’t be available.”

“Oh.” Her smile faltered.

“The grave is just up here.” He hurried forward before she could question him. Ahead, mist from the falls thickened the air and sunlight filtered through the thinning trees. “Watch your step. The rocks are wet and slimy.”

They approached the falls. After the burial over a century ago, he’d avoided the gravesite the way most people avoided angry grizzly bears. The water cascaded a hundred feet into the gorge, surrounded by rocks covered in bright green mosses and ferns.

He took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. Part of him wanted to convince her to call this off so he could take her to dinner. But he would be a fool. A selfish fool. He wasn’t alive. What did he have to offer her?

Nothing.

And now it was time to leave this existence.

Chapter Three

Jade stepped with care across a moist ledge and peered into the gorge. The roar of the water cascading over the rocks and pummeling the bottom filled her ears. The cool mist thickened the air and condensed on her skin. A shudder shook her body—not from the chill, but from the mental image of the spirit’s death. “This is where he fell?”

“Yes.” Dutch motioned her to join him where he stood a couple yards away.

A solitary stone reposed at the base of a gigantic American elm. The roots had crowded the little monument and forced it to lean at a sharp angle to the side. Despite the thick layer of moss that grew in patches on the slate, the inscription remained readable.

Derrick Hutchinson

Died May 23, 1890

Aged 24 years

“Why is there no birth date?”

“I guess the loggers who buried him didn’t know exactly when he was born.”

She ran her fingers over the chilly, damp stone. “No proper cemetery burial? No family?”

“I don’t know. I guess that information is lost to history.” Dutch backed a few feet away, a frown on his face, his arms folded.

“This really bothers you?”

He shrugged. “Naw.”

What a terrible liar. She grinned inwardly. “Dutch.” She stood and took his hand, pleased that he didn’t pull away. “Thank you for showing me the way out here.”

“No problem. It was a pleasure to meet you, Jade Clarence.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, sending her heart rate into a frenzy. The smile faded from his face as he released her. “I should get going.”

“Huh?”

“I assume you don’t want an audience.”

“I don’t mind, actually.”

He smiled, but the expression chilled her. His eyes seemed sad all of a sudden. “Sorry. I have someplace I need to go.” He paused. “Take care, Jade.”

“Okay, bye.” She turned away to avoid watching him leave. Why hadn’t he said something earlier about having plans? He hadn’t acted rushed. Maybe he didn’t really believe all her nonsense, after all.

Her heart sank, but she forced aside the disappointment and focused. Kneeling at the side of the grave, she set the flowers she’d picked at the base of the stone and set a rock on the stems to keep them in place.

“What are you doing?” Shock filled Dutch’s voice. He rejoined her and knelt, his brow furrowed.

“A grave out here all by itself is too lonely. The least I can do is leave him some flowers.”

He stared at her. “That’s…very thoughtful of you.”

She glanced back at the gravestone. Let’s do this. She spoke the Latin words to bind the spirit: “Requiescat in pace, Derrick Hutchinson.”

Dutch choked and collapsed, panting against the ground. His body jerked.

“Dutch! What’s wrong?” She reached out, but he faded before her eyes and vanished.

…

“What the hell?” Jade sat, alone, next to the old grave marker. Dutch’s brown shirt lay in the dirt where he’d fallen. She picked it up and brushed the pine needles away.

Still warm.

She turned back to the slate memorial. Derrick Hutchinson.

D. Hutchinson.

Dutch. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Dutch is the spirit. She held her head in her hands. What was going on here? He could have stopped her at any point since she had arrived. He’d called her family in the first place, for goodness’ sake.

Did he want to be exorcised?

“I was right, wasn’t I? You played puppeteer with the furniture to clear the motel. What were you trying to do, set up the need for an exorcism? Why would you do that?”

Dutch didn’t answer, of course. She had paralyzed him and bound him to his grave beneath her feet. Acid shot up her throat. The preternatural bindings couldn’t be reversed with words; they were meant to be a one-way street to an exorcism. However, they weakened in time. Strong spirits had broken free in the past when the exorcism had been interrupted or delayed. She just had to wait.

He must have been wearing only the pants and boots when he died if they dematerialized with him. Where had he gotten the shirt? She lifted the soft cotton to her face and inhaled his scent: faint cologne mixed with the fresh air from their walk and the natural essence of his skin.

She imagined curling up at his side under a blanket, turning her face into his hair, and breathing him in. Only minutes before, she’d wanted a dinner date, perhaps a little more. How long had it been since she’d enjoyed a simple walk and conversation so much?

She sat on the ground and leaned against the tree behind the grave. She held the shirt in her lap. Their morning together ran through her mind, every smile, every brush of his hand in slow motion.

He’s a ghost. Jade shut her eyes and shook her head. She pulled a book from her bag and settled in to wait.

…

A rocking motion roused Jade from sleep. She’d fallen asleep? Groggy, she lifted her eyelids. Pitch blackness surrounded her, but so did warmth. “Dutch?”

He held her in his arms. Leaves crunched underfoot as he walked.

“Hello again.” His voice washed over her like a balm, but strain edged his tone. “I’m taking you back to your car.”

The brown shirt he’d worn earlier lay across her chest like a small blanket. Her head rested against his bare, warm chest and his heart beat steadily under her ear. She lifted a hand and pressed her fingers to the pulse point on his neck. “That’s unbelievable.”

“It’s an illusion,” he said, his voice toneless.

She lifted her face, trying to make out his expression in the dark. “You’re damned lucky you came back to question me about the flowers. If I hadn’t seen you disappear, I wouldn’t have realized—”

“I didn’t want you to know who I was. I called you here to perform an exorcism.”

“I was afraid of that.” She paused. “How did you make that call, anyway?”

“There’s a courtesy phone in the park office. I found out about your family in the first place while searching for exorcists on the computer on the desk. I haven’t had much to do over the years except watch people, so I know how to use modern technology for the most part. This was my first time in a car, though. Can’t say I enjoyed that very much.”

Dutch stepped onto the road, where moonlight glinted off her parked car. He set her on her feet. She held on to his shoulders and didn’t move away.

“We need to talk, but it’s late.” He lifted a hand to her arm. “You should go back and get warm.”

He vanished. His face inches from hers, gone. His hand on her arm, gone. A cold breeze kissed her skin. A second later, even though she stood alone by the car, a hint of warm air brushed her ear and cheek like a soft caress.

Dutch’s voice whispered, “Goodnight, Jade Clarence.”

“Dutch?” Jade stood by the car, still holding the brown shirt. Insects buzzed around her head. “Dutch, come back.”

And then his voice, gone.

“Fine, but you better come see me tomorrow. First thing.” She could summon him with an incantation and confront him now, but that’d cause him more pain. Observing Aaron during an exorcism one time, she’d witnessed a begging spirit describe being summoned as having a flaming noose around his neck. The poor creature had clawed at himself in a useless attempt to break free.

Chilled to her soul, she got in the car and headed back to the cabin. She showered and pulled a nightgown over her head. Her mind buzzed, churning over the day’s events, and her muscles were in knots. The clock chimed ten times, but how could she sleep when she was this tense?

She opened the long, black case that traveled everywhere with her and took out her viola, the scent of resin filling her nose. Her mind calmed the moment her fingers brushed the strings. Standing in the low light, she played from memory. Her musical hobby had kept her sane over the years, and the soothing activity didn’t disappoint this time, either.

She spent an hour in her own personal heaven, running her favorite solos one after another. The strings vibrated under her fingers and her chin.

Her heart rate slowed, her muscles relaxed, and her mind calmed. Tomorrow, she would figure this mess out.

The sharp ring of her phone interrupted the musical passage and her thoughts.

The screen on her phone displayed her little brother’s name.

“Hey, Jay,” Jeremy greeted her. “How’d it go? You didn’t call.”

“Sorry. It was…an unusual day.”

“Unusual?” Concern filled his voice. “What happened?”

She swallowed. “The spirit isn’t hostile.”

“Jay—”

“This is nothing like the barn spirit.”

Jeremy cursed. “But you didn’t perform the exorcism.”

“No.” She groaned internally. If only she could lie to her little brother. “I have to go. No one is in danger here and I’ll explain later. Bye.” She cut off his protest with the disconnect button.

Shit. Jeremy would have to tell Aaron. She muttered to herself, “This is not going to end well.”

Chapter Four

Dutch ached. He assumed his corporeal body to mask his presence and sat on the porch of Jade’s cabin, listening to the viola, trying to will the pain away.

He’d never felt sensation of any kind without his physical body prior to the invisible chains created by Jade’s words. Stuck underground in the hollow of his own grave, he’d forced himself not to struggle against the sensation of being beaten over every inch of his body. But the exorcism hadn’t come. Hours passed. When the searing pain ebbed, he’d fought and struggled until he’d broken free.

But discomfort lingered. He longed to head for the cold water of the river, but he remained outside Jade’s cabin, drawn to the rhythmic sounds of the viola. He’d grown up with music of this kind and hadn’t heard the like in decades.

She played for an hour, but all too soon, the melodies silenced and the light from the window blinked out. He retreated to a section of the river far from the park guests and waded into the soothing water.

If only she’d finished the exorcism, all of this would be over. But of course she’d stayed her hand; or rather, her words. She’d seen through his “bad-spirit” charade, and she possessed too much heart to exorcise an innocent. Question was, did she have enough compassion to exorcise a spirit who asked it of her?

…

The morning sun warming his back, Dutch knelt at the base of a hollow tree and pulled out the suitcase a tourist had forgotten at the park years ago. Inside, he kept the items he’d gathered over the years from Hutchinson Park’s Lost and Found and from vacant campsites. It amazed him what people managed to forget. Trying his best to keep up with the times, he would toss items and replace them every decade or so. Today, the effort would finally pay off.

He changed into shoes, a pair of jeans, and a button-down shirt. Unsure of how much he needed, he pocketed all the money.

An hour’s walk brought him to the park entrance and the small market across the street, where he purchased two coffees and cinnamon scones. He made his way to Jade’s cabin and knocked, then called out, “Morning. I brought breakfast.”

Jade opened the door. She was dressed in jeans and a blue tank top. Her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms, glowering.

“Coffee?” He held out the tray that supported large paper cups. “Peace offering.”

After a pause, she blinked and took one. “Thank you.”

“There’re scones, too.” He set the paper bag on the porch table.

“You can eat?” She removed the plastic lid of her coffee, one delicate eyebrow arched.

He grinned. “You’re the ghost expert.”

“No one in my family has encountered a spirit like you in my lifetime.”

He settled in one of the weathered plastic chairs and sipped the hot, over-sweetened liquid. When you only bothered to eat once every few decades, why go light on the sugar? “I can eat, but I don’t have to. All I have to do is revert to my incorporeal state when hunger sets in.”

She took the chair opposite him and broke a scone into pieces. His attention followed as she brought a morsel to her lips.

“You play beautifully, by the way.” He forced his attention away from her mouth. Small calluses gave texture to the tips of her fingers on her left hand.

“You listened to me?” The words came out clipped.

He scratched his chin. “Ah, yeah. Sorry. I checked to make you sure you’d made it back okay, and then I couldn’t resist listening. You had me entranced.”

“You like that kind of music?”

“I lived in the late eighteen hundreds, and some habits never change. All this modern shit the park staff and visitors listen to is noise to me.”

“Mmm.” She studied her scone for a moment, her expression thoughtful. “So. You lied to me several times yesterday. Time to clear the air. The car trouble lie is obvious. You don’t have one.”

He nodded.

“I asked what happened the day the ghost died, other than the traumatic death itself. You said you didn’t know.” Challenge filled her gaze.

Long-buried pain clawed at him. He forced the memories down. “What happened doesn’t matter.”

“You tried to trick me into exorcising you.” Her voice hardened. “You owe me some answers.”

“I didn’t call you because of my death. I called you because of my afterlife.” He set the coffee aside. “I want an end to this, Jade. I’ve been here since 1890. ‘Lonely’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’ve made the best of this existence for decades, but it’s gone on too long. I’m asking you to help me.”

She leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “It’ll destroy you.”

“I’m aware.” He held her gaze. “Will you please think about it? I don’t need an answer right now. I admit, there is something else I feel compelled to do.”

“Such as?”

“Are you still willing to have dinner with me?”

“I should be too furious with you for deceiving me.”

“But you’re not?” He leaned forward.

“Oh, I am.” She folded her arms. “But considering you spent most of yesterday bound to your grave, I think we’re even.”

“Excellent.” He ran his fingertips over the back of her hand. “Because I meant it when I said I’d love to have dinner with you. Actually, I’m going to make you dinner.”

…

Jade registered with the park to stay another night, relieved no one else had claimed the cabin for the weekend. Intent on enjoying the stolen day, forgetting the stress of the last week and the hell to come when she had to deal with Aaron and Jeremy once again, she switched off her cell phone and met Dutch for a hike.

A steep trail led them up the mountain in the center of the park. At the top, a swinging bridge connected twin peaks, offering a view of forested foothills for miles in all directions. The bridge swayed and trembled underfoot, making Jade’s palms sweat. She clutched Dutch’s arm as they made their way to the halfway point.

“They say this is an extinct volcano.” Dutch pointed straight down. “The caldera. Well, what’s left of it after tens of thousands of years of erosion.” He paused, staring at her. “Do spirits erode on earth? Is that why so many become violent?”

Jade eyed the slopes with renewed respect, but a strong crosswind rocked the bridge, riveting her attention to the lack of ground beneath her feet. She tried to focus on the conversation instead. “I think that’s a good metaphor, yes. You’re different, though.”

“But why?”

“This place. It has to be this incredible place. It doesn’t just make you powerful, it keeps you alive.”

“Alive? No, Jade, I’m most definitely not alive.”

A chatty tourist couple with two daughters—one a scowling preteen, one a wide-eyed younger girl—crossed the bridge from the far side, making their way back toward the trail. The bridge shuddered and groaned under their progress as they passed.

“You’re hurting my arm.” Amusement filled Dutch’s tone. “Would you like to turn back?”

“Not yet.” She turned her face into his shoulder. The earthy scent of the woods clung to his shirt. Unlike the bridge, Dutch held her steady, an unyielding source of support.

He wrapped his free arm around her back and rested his chin on her head. The breeze—chilly at that altitude despite the warm day—put his warmth in stark relief. She took in the view in her peripheral vision. An eagle swooped down the lush valley, aimed at a distant lake. With Dutch at her side, she calmed enough to enjoy the beauty around them.

“I’m terrified of heights.”

“No kidding?”

She smacked his arm, no enthusiasm behind the strike. His chest shook with silent laughter and he tightened his hold. “Sorry. You face malevolent spirits for a living, yet here you are in my arms, afraid of a perfectly good bridge. Pardon me while I gloat.”

“Humph.” She hid her grin against his shoulder. “This view is incredible. Thank you. I wouldn’t be able to stand out here by myself.”

“Anytime,” he said quietly.

As they walked back toward the trail, leaning against each other, she studied his face. “Heights don’t bother you?”

“Naw. I was a logger. Not a job compatible with that sort of phobia. And I’m dead.”

“You fell.” Her curiosity forced the words from her mouth.

His lips thinned. “Yes. It was over in a few seconds and I didn’t feel a thing. There are far worse ways to go.”

“Why are you here, Dutch? What else happened?”

“Honestly?” Solid ground underfoot, he stopped walking and turned to face her. “You’re right, dying wasn’t the worst thing that happened to me that day. However, I don’t think I’m still here because of that. The gorge…there is something about it. Another logger died on the job and became a ghost with a heartbeat, like me. For one day, that is. When they removed his body for burial in his hometown, he lost that ability. He eventually vanished altogether.”

“Interesting. There must be much more to this place than natural energies. Much more. Perhaps moving your grave is a solution, as opposed to being exorcised.” Her own words dried out her mouth. Even if he had a way to move on without an exorcism, she wished he wouldn’t move on at all. And how selfish was that?

“It might have been possible, decades ago. But I didn’t even have a coffin. I’m inseparable from the soil and the trees these days.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Back then, I wanted this false life. It was a second chance. Incredible freedom. But, loneliness has a way of accumulating and compounding over the years.”

“Annabel!”

Jade turned toward the shout. The father from the tourist family who’d passed them on the bridge hurried along the path, shadowed by thick balsams.

The man stopped, panting, when he reached them. “Have you seen a little girl? She’s six.”

“No, sorry—”

The father took off again, headed for the visitor’s shelter near the bridge.

“Wait here. This’ll only take a moment.” Dutch stepped into the shadows of the trees and vanished, the strong energy of his incorporeal form washing over her skin like electric current. The scent of burnt sugar filled the air. His shirt landed in a heap on a rock.

His presence vanished like a gust of wind. Shivering, Jade leaned against a tree and rubbed her tense shoulders. The way a spirit could travel, he’d be able to locate the girl in moments. Hopefully, alive and unhurt.

The father came out of the shelter, shoulders slumped, face flushed. His voice hitched as he yelled, “Annabel!”

Dutch’s presence returned. Jade’s clairvoyant senses, guiding her like infallible intuition, drew her gaze to the panicked father and she knew Dutch stood at the man’s side.

Rubbing his eyes, he started back down the path, then stumbled as if he’d been pushed. He paused, staring into the woods to his left. He took a step and stumbled again. The spot didn’t stand out from what Jade could see, but the father ran into the trees. “Annabel?”

Dutch materialized at Jade’s side and she handed him his shirt. “The girl’s got a sprained ankle, but she’s fine,” he said.

Jade kissed his cheek.

They waited. After several minutes, the father emerged with the little girl in his arms.

“Sometimes, a parent just knows where to look.” Dutch winked.

They headed down the mountain. Dutch fell into silence, a distance in his eyes. When the path leveled off, he said, “I told myself I wouldn’t, because some things are best left in the past, but I want to tell you…”

“Hmm?”

He slid an arm around her waist. “After I died, the logging company sent a telegraph to my family. They traveled all night and arrived the next day. It was a relief to see them, but I didn’t show myself to anyone. I was expecting a beam of light or something to appear any second.” His tone hardened. “They collected the wages the company owed me, several months’ worth. Mother spared the body a glance and the sign of the cross, then they left me on the ground and took off.”

Jade rubbed the center of her chest. What sort of parents could do that to their son? “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. The loggers buried me. They even pitched in and bought me that stone. The uncouth sons of bitches took better care of me than my own family. I’m very grateful to them. And it’s nice to finally tell someone what they did for me.” He paused. “I’d rather focus on the present. I’m making dinner for a girl tonight, so we better hurry back.”

Jade hooked her arm through his and couldn’t help but wonder if enjoying Dutch’s company so much was wise. He wanted to be exorcised, something her conscience screamed against, but what would she tell her brothers if she refused? She’d lose the job she’d been immersed in since birth. Continuing being an exorcist on her own, developing an incantation to move spirits harmlessly to the next world, wouldn’t be possible, not without her family’s extensive library.

Spending time with Dutch would only make it worse—for both of them.

Chapter Five

“This is a very bad idea,” Jade muttered, meeting her own stare in the mirror. The knots in her stomach fluttered in anticipation. “Damn it.”

She took her usual braid down and brushed her hair until it fell in waves to her elbows. A job in the woods had not merited packing sexy clothes, so she selected a clean pair of jeans and a silken blouse—business clothes. The spicy scent of cooking drifted in through the open window from the grill behind the cabin.

“Jade?” Dutch called from the porch.

She checked the mirror one last time and hurried to the door. Dutch waited there, dressed in a dark green button-down shirt that brought out his eyes.

“Evening.” He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. “You look lovely tonight.”

The contact stirred her internal butterflies into a flying frenzy. “Thanks.”

“I hope you like fish.”

She inhaled. “Whatever that scent is, I like it.”

He squeezed her hand and led her around to the back of the cabin, a private yard surrounded by thick bushes. A small fire burned in a stone pit and a white cloth covered a picnic table. Two plates offered roasted fish, wilted greens, and fresh bread.

He pulled a bottle of wine from an ice bucket. “I caught the trout myself and picked the herbs in the woods. The rest I got from the market across the street. Sorry about the plastic dishes. It’s all they had.”

“Not at all.” She joined him at the table. “This looks wonderful.”

“I’m glad.” He poured the wine.

She touched a cluster of wildflowers set in a plastic cup in the middle of the table.

He cleared his throat. “At the risk of sounding corny, the flowers you left by my stone meant a lot to me. No one has ever done that before. Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell. Jade slowly ate the delicious food and cleaned the plate. As they finished the bottle of wine, they chatted about little things: The fish recipe that had been a favorite in the logging camps where Dutch had worked. How Jade had initially picked up the viola as a child just to annoy her brothers but had come to love it more than any other hobby.

The bottle dried up and she brought her the instrument outside.

“Any requests?” She stood in front of the fire.

He sat on the ground, dark-blue twilight framing him, and rested an arm on a bent knee. “Your favorite piece.”

She lifted the viola to her shoulder and began the slow, uplifting solo that had attracted her to the instrument when she’d been little. Her mother had played the song on an antique record player. Playing with her eyes closed to not get distracted by Dutch’s unwavering gaze, she gave herself over to the music. The piece took five minutes to complete, and as she prolonged the last note, his warm fingers touched her cheek.

She opened her eyes. Dutch pressed his lips to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw line, and paused, his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers. She set the instrument and bow on the table.

A hand on her nape, he pulled her against his mouth, his other arm firm around the small of her back. His unyielding grip spurred her heart rate and filled her body with simmering heat.

Jade dug her fingers into his thick hair and nipped at his lower lip. His lips curved against her skin, and he lowered her into the grass on her back. Bold. But she trusted that he’d stop if she asked him to, and such confident passion in a man sang to her desires.

Stretched out at her side, he stroked her throat and claimed her lips again. As she returned and deepened the kiss, she ran her fingers from his rough hand up his arm to his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt at odds with the hard angles and curves underneath.

He broke the kiss but stayed close. “Jade. It’s been over a century since I’ve been close to anyone. You can’t imagine what it was like to hold you on the bridge today. What it’s like to hold you now.”

She lifted his wrist from her shoulder and ran her fingertips slowly down the inside of his fingers, across his palm, and up the hairless underside of his arm. Following the path with her lips, she made her way to his neck. She licked the soft skin below his ear and blew across the spot.

He shivered and lifted her into a sitting position. He kissed her, his lips and tongue relentless, his sugary, wine-tinged taste addictive. Tilting her head back with his hands, he dropped his mouth to her neck, licking and pressing her skin between his teeth, certain to leave marks.

“More,” she groaned. She trusted her instincts and her body. She’d wanted this before the first drop of wine had passed her lips. Hell, she’d been drawn to him the first time they’d spoken.

In an effortless motion, he laid her back down in the grass and held her gaze, his fingers on the top buttons of her blouse. She nodded, and he parted her shirt, baring her skin and her white lace bra. The friction of his rough palms against her belly made her arch into his touch. He bent forward and pressed his mouth to her left breast, licking her nipple through the thin lace. She hissed in a breath through her teeth and dug her fingers into his shoulders.

He returned his ministrations to her lips, though he pressed more of his weight onto her body. Warm pressure.

“So lovely,” he said against her mouth as she drew in air.

She smoothed her hands under his shirt, up the planes on his stomach, and pressed his nipples between her fingertips. The groan from his throat bordered on a growl.

Shoving the cotton out of the way, she licked first the right nipple, then the left, dragging her fingernails along his back.

He stiffened in her arms. Gasping, he jerked away from her and collapsed on his back.

“Dutch!” She sat up and knelt at his side. “What’s wrong?”

“Not again…” He stared at her, his brow furrowed. He sucked in a sharp breath, faded and vanished. Jade lost her balance and fell forward on her hands. His clothing lay abandoned beneath her palms.

“Dutch, are you still here? Answer me!”

The silence lengthened, and she scrambled to her feet. A faint voice reached her ears, the rhythmic sound rising above the buzz of the evening crickets.

Aaron. Oh, shit, what had her brother done?

Every muscle in her body tensed and adrenaline seared her veins like an acid wash. She took off full tilt toward the river.

…

Running in the fading light of evening, Jade stepped on a loose rock in the path and went down hard, face first into the gravel. Pain shot up her leg. Her cheek burned. Cursing, she shoved herself to her feet. Her brother’s voice, louder now, guided her down the narrow side path. She reached the edge of the river.

Her brother, silhouetted by a lantern, knelt on a large granite outcrop, facing the rapids. He held a book close to the light and read out loud in Latin.

“Stop!” She reached him and snatched the book from his hand. “What the hell are you doing?”

He stared up at her with a tight grin, his severe features made more so by his cropped hair and the shadows cast by the lantern. “You’ve never seen an exorcism before?” He lifted his fingers to her injured cheek, giving her a rare glimpse of the caring brother beneath the cold exterior. The brother whose leg still bore scars from protecting her from a dog when they’d taken a shortcut through the wrong yard as kids.

“What happened?”

“I tripped, running down here in the dark.” She clutched the book to her chest. A far more gifted clairvoyant than Jeremy or herself, Aaron didn’t need the benefit of the ghost’s presence or the grave. But he did need the book.

“Why is your bra showing?”

Her heart leapt up and clung to her throat. She furiously buttoned her blouse. “I was getting dressed after a shower.”

He folded his arms. “Jeremy told me the exorcism hadn’t been completed and figured I needed to head out here.” He held out his hand. “Give me that.”

She tossed the book into the rapids, using all her strength to get good distance.

His eyes widened. “That was one of our great grandfather’s handwritten copies.”

“This spirit is different, Aaron. He can assume corporeal form and is in no way hostile. He set up the motel fire to get an exorcism, but we’ve…” Heat seared her cheeks. “We’ve gotten acquainted.”

“Corporeal form? Interesting.” He pursed his lips. Silent seconds ticked by. “Go back to wherever you’re staying, little sister. I’m going to call Jeremy, and we’re going to finish this in the morning.”

He strode off up the path in the moonlight, leaving his lantern with her. She bent forward, hands on her knees, and caught her breath. Thank God he’d left without much of a fuss, but he clearly intended to proceed with the exorcism as soon as he got another copy of the text. Her pulse hammered in her ears and her knees trembled. A tear dripped off the end of her chin.

“Dutch?” she whispered.

Chapter Six

Jade made her way back along the path, forcing herself to think positive. Aaron had gotten a couple pages into the exorcism, and though it must have put Dutch through tremendous pain, it wasn’t enough to do a spirit as strong as him any permanent harm. When the bindings wore off, Dutch would recover.

The adrenaline rush ebbed, and the scrapes and cuts from her fall made themselves known. Her knee throbbed. Grit mingled with blood on her palms. Her cheek stung.

Halfway back, warm air brushed her neck. Her breath hitched. “Dutch?”

“I’m here,” his quiet voice said. “Meet me at the cabin.”

She ran, taking care of her footing. Bursting through the door, the sound of water running reached her ears. “Dutch!”

“In here.”

Jade hurried to the bathroom and found him bent over the sink, soaking a washcloth under the steaming faucet. Dressed in his brown pants and boots, he appeared unharmed. She touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

He met her gaze, pain evident in his eyes. “I’ll be fine.” He dabbed the warm, damp cloth on her cheek. “Thank you for intervening, but I wish you hadn’t gotten hurt.”

In the mirror, she caught sight of the gash on her face and winced. “How did you escape the bindings so fast?”

“He didn’t bind me. He just started in on the exorcism, which in itself overpowered me. No offense, but he’s stronger than you.”

“He is, unfortunately.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “And he’ll be back.”

“Who is he?” Dutch rinsed the cloth under cold water, folded it, and pressed it against her cheek.

“My older brother, Aaron. Every generation, the firstborn turns out the strongest in terms of clairvoyance. My younger brother, in turn, isn’t as strong as I am.” She lifted her hand to the cold compress. “I should be the one taking care of you.”

He cocked his head and his lips curved into a weary grin. “There’s first aid for a partial exorcism?”

“No.” She leaned back against the doorframe. “I’m so sorry about tonight.”

“You forget, I want to be exorcised.” He sighed. “Just not like that. With you, it was on my terms.”

She turned away and met his gaze in the mirror. “Aren’t there other things you want?”

“Prior to today, no. But now…” He pressed against her back, brushed her hair aside, and nuzzled her neck. Waves of heat rushed down her body.

He lifted a hand from her waist and cupped her chin, coaxing her face toward his. His lips touched hers, light contact at first, then he leaned into her. His deep brown eyes held her gaze as they kissed. Slowly and without breaking contact, she turned to fully face him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He broke the kiss and his gaze traveled down her body. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I landed pretty hard on my knees.” She bit her lip and reached for her zipper.

Easing the fabric over a sharp ache on her kneecap, she stepped out of her jeans and dropped them on the hamper. Her blouse didn’t cover her white lace panties.

“Hmm.” Dutch knelt and ran his fingers across the lace, down her hips to her tender knee. “The skin isn’t broken, but you’ll have a good bruise.” He pressed his lips to the spot.

She sighed as he kissed his way up her leg. He paused halfway up her thigh and met her stare. The light over the mirror accented the green specks in his otherwise earthy eyes.

“Keep going. Please.” She wove her fingers into the slight curls of his hair.

He pressed his lips to the lace that covered the lowest point of her belly and ran his hands up her hips. The firm pressure of his work-hardened palms instilled tingling heat deep into her flesh, searing her nerves. His fingers slid under the edge of her panties and pulled the dainty fabric down to her ankles.

She kicked the garment into the corner as he got to his feet. His hands traveled up her backside, under her shirt and up her back. He kissed her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth as he scratched his fingers over her bra.

“Off,” he said, his tone husky enough to be a growl.

The demand kicked the speed of her breathing up a notch. Any other time, she’d smack a man for giving her blunt orders. But now she reached behind her and flicked the tiny clasps free.

“Jade.” He leaned back an inch, hitting her with the full force of those eyes. “It’s been a long time for me. I won’t have much control to offer you if we go any further.”

“I’m not going to stop you.” She was so afraid she’d lost him tonight. “I want to be with you.” She unbuttoned and pushed his pants down, grasping the length of him in her hand. With a throaty whisper, she added, “And I want you to lose control.”

Dutch stripped off her shirt and slid her bra down her arms, his movements quick and rough. He kicked off his boots and pants, picked her up, and headed for the back door.

Outside, the night air remained a comfortable temperature. Overhead, no moon shone, but the stars gleamed brighter for its absence. Dutch set her down on the cool grass. Tall, thick bushes around the cabin offered privacy.

He claimed her mouth and rubbed his body against hers, his weight and warmth a sinful comfort. Smoothing her hands over his chest and back, she sucked on his tongue.

Pausing, mischief filled his eyes. He grinned and vanished.

“Wha—”

“Sh.” He remained on top of her in his incorporeal form, an invisible, coiled energy, his power level so much more intense than any other spirit she’d ever brushed against. Unlike weaker spirits that created a drop in temperature, he smoothed heat over her body like a bath of self-warming cream. A hint of electrical charge raised the tiny hairs on her arms. He spared no inch of her, touching her everywhere at once, the sensual caress driving her to stimulation overload.

She writhed and whimpered. The sweet friction intensified, as if he were squeezing her. He backed off for a second, only to focus on her nipples and her core. When he reached inside of her, she gasped loud enough to scare crows out of the nearby tree.

“Do you like this, Jade?” his voice murmured in her ear, satisfaction in his tone.

“Yes.”

The vibrant warmth settled on her mouth.

Dutch materialized mid-kiss, unfortunately with his pants on, but he stripped down and kissed her again. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him, grateful for the return of his weight.

“I need you now.” He kissed her, filling her mouth with his tongue.

She ran her hands down the contours of his back and grasped his bottom. He bit at the sensitive skin below her ear as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He pushed into her body with a smooth, firm thrust.

Tightening her grip on his backside, she buried her face in his neck to hide a grimace. Being as aroused as she was didn’t make up for the years she’d gone without sex.

He paused, pulled out, and eased back in slower than before. The urgent edge to his touch turned tender as he brushed his hands over her skin, massaging, and tended to her nipples with licks and bites. Her muscles relaxed under his touch and the discomfort lessened.

“Feel better?” he whispered into her shoulder.

She lifted her hips, taking more of him inside. “Yes.”

“Good.” He held her face in his hands. He kept kissing her as he moved, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and a driving rhythm that had her scratching his skin. Without breaking stride, he pinned her wrists over her head with one hand, supporting his weight on his elbow. Having her hands restrained left her unable to do anything except feel his body in and around her, his every movement heightening the glorious tension where their bodies merged. His free fingers found her right breast and teased her nipple, sending shocks to her core.

The sensation overload gathered and burst free in an orgasm that left her twisting in the grass, fighting for breath.

He finished, then wrapped his arms around her body.

After lying still long enough for their breathing to settle, he carried her inside. They showered away the grass and dirt before curling against each other in bed. Jade fell asleep with her face tucked against his chest, refusing to let her thoughts drift to the looming fight with her brothers.

…

Dutch woke with his arm across Jade’s gently curved shoulders and couldn’t resist squeezing her tight against him. She woke, grinned, and stretched. She ran her fingers down his face and neck. “You’re still here.”

He widened his eyes. “Of course. You think I’m the kind of man who’d make love to a woman and run off?”

“No, not at all. But do you always sleep in your corporeal form?”

“Ah.” He lifted his arms over his head in a lazy stretch. “No. I usually just drift in the air. But last night I wanted to stay with you, and my natural form would have kept you up.”

“You don’t lose your form when you fall asleep?”

“Nah. Maintaining either form is easy. It’s the act of switching back and forth that requires concentration.” He combed his fingers through her hair, recalling how she’d flushed and squirmed under his incorporeal touch. “I wish I could have met you as a normal, living person. I haven’t come across anyone so lovely in my existence, and I’m not referring just to your beauty.” He ran a finger down her neck, between her breasts, and across her belly. “Your laughter makes me feel alive again in a way this manifested body never has. Just lying next to you gives me…”

She touched his cheek. “What?”

He swallowed. “I was going to say, ‘a reason to live.’ Lying here with you, it’s so easy to think like I’m not dead.”

She moved her hand to his throat and pressed her fingers into his skin. “You have a pulse.”

“It’s an illusion.”

“No, it’s not. This power you have, it gives you life.”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “You give me life.”

The morning-after glow left her features and her tone thinned. “Do you still want to be exorcised?”

“No, not as long as I have you.” He positioned his body over hers, braced on his hands and knees. “Will you give me more than one night, Jade Clarence? Many nights?”

“Yes.” She glanced away for just a second. Hesitation? Something was on her mind. She pulled his head down and kissed him, her brow furrowed despite the passion in her touch. “Aaron will destroy you. He’ll also fire me. This assignment was a test to see if I could continue with the profession. I don’t know what to do, Dutch.”

“Sh.” He nibbled on her neck. “We’ll find a solution.”

He dispatched his corporeal form.

“Dutch?” She bolted upright.

He materialized at her back, brushed her hair to the side, and kissed her neck. She twisted around, but he vanished before she could touch him.

“Hey!” Pseudo-fury filled her eyes. She got out of bed, and he materialized with his hands on her bare backside. She whirled around and her arm shot out, her hand raised as if to slap him despite her wide smile, just as he disappeared. “Just wait until I get my hands on you!”

“Missed me.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and pulled her down onto the bed in his lap, kissing her nape.

She squirmed away, laughing, but he pulled her body under his, holding her arms above her head.

“Kiss me.” He lowered his head, stopping short of touching her mouth.

She did. As she lingered against his lips, he released her wrists and she wrapped her arms around him. Rematerializing had clothed him in his pants and boots, so he reached for his buttons.

A knock on the front door jolted them both into a sitting position. Every muscle tense, he leapt out of bed.

“Jade?” A male voice called out, but not the voice that had inflicted so much pain the night before.

“It’s Jeremy, my other brother.” She got to her feet. “He’s more reasonable than Aaron.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Shall I go or stay?”

“Stay. We have nothing to hide from Jeremy. Hopefully, he’ll help.” She raised her voice. “I’ll be right out, Jeremy!” She rushed into the bathroom with her clothes in her arms.

Dutch donned the shirt he’d worn at dinner and went to the door. On the porch, Jeremy’s eyes narrowed from behind a pair of fashion lenses, his sleek city-boy look out of place in the rustic setting, despite his Native American features.

“Oh, sorry, I must have the wrong—”

“She’ll be right out, Jeremy.” Dutch invited the exorcist inside.

Jeremy stepped into the kitchen, folded his arms, and cocked his head. “And you are?”

“Dutch. We spoke on the phone the other day,” he said as Jade hurried into the room, wearing jeans and a loose green shirt that swirled around her arms. He let his corporeal body vanish and reappeared at her side, an arm around her waist.

“The client?” Jeremy muttered as if to himself. “Aaron said Jade had met a spirit that could materialize. I couldn’t believe it.” His gaze shifted to Jade and back to Dutch. “What about the motel?”

“I made sure everyone got out safely, and the building should’ve been condemned, anyway.” Dutch explained his original plan to be exorcised and finished by saying, “Things have changed.”

Jade leaned against him and rested her hand on his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

Jeremy leaned against the counter and rested his face in his hand. “Ah, shit.”

“What is Aaron planning to do?” Jade’s voice sharpened.

In silence, her brother rubbed his face and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Jeremy!”

“He’s gone up to the falls. The park officers told him where to find the grave. He’s going to use the slave incantation.”

Jade staggered and Dutch supported her weight with an arm around her waist. He glared at her brother. “The what?”

“Aaron thinks having a spirit as powerful as you at his disposal will be useful, both for research and as a tool,” Jeremy said, his voice calm. “This particular incantation will make you a slave to his will. A puppet.”

Dutch’s muscles tensed, sending a sharp pain up his neck.

Jade took a deep breath and held it, a hand to her face. “No, he’s not,” she said, very much like feisty Tinker Bell, Dutch thought. “I’m going up there.”

She stormed for the door, Jeremy on her heels, and she snatched her car keys from a wall hook on the way. Dutch dematerialized and whispered in her ear as she got in the car. “Don’t worry, sweetness, I will deal with Aaron.”

Chapter Seven

Dutch careened through the forest in a straight line to the grave he normally avoided. Making the trip in under a minute, he materialized in front of the stone and waited, pacing. The spot made his skin crawl, both because of the proximity to his mortal remains and the memories of his last moments of life. The shouts that’d reached his ears as he’d fallen still echoed in his dreams. Here, they seemed louder and ever present.

The real horror had come later that day. Dying hadn’t hurt, but being left behind certainly had. The living had benefited from his death once…it wouldn’t happen today.

After a few long minutes, Jade’s brother emerged from the trees, a black bag hanging from his shoulder.

Aaron smiled, smug. “You must be the—”

The exorcist’s eyes widened and he lifted a hand to his mouth. Fury in his expression, he tried to shout, but no sound came out.

Dutch grinned and circled. “You caught me off guard last night, but I have a few tricks of my own, exorcist. I will be no one’s pet.”

Aaron swung a fist, but Dutch dematerialized, assumed his corporeal form behind Jade’s brother, and seized him in a chokehold. “You see, I’ve spent a God-awful long time here, and for the first time in over a century, I feel alive. Even in my lifetime, no one made me feel the way Jade does. Now that I’ve found her, you’re going to leave us the hell alone. Nod.”

Aaron nodded against Dutch’s arm, struggling for air.

Not believing the bastard for a second, Dutch kept his preternatural grip on Aaron’s vocal cords. Sweat dripped down his spine. He couldn’t hurt Jade’s brother, and he couldn’t keep him silent indefinitely—that took concentration. “How are we going to guarantee that, I wonder?”

…

Jade pulled the car to an abrupt halt behind Aaron’s yellow Jeep at the trailhead. “Follow the orange blazes to the gravesite,” she said to Jeremy. “Keep Aaron and Dutch from hurting each other until I get there.”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“And do what? Argue with Aaron? Has that ever worked for me?”

“But what—”

“I will take care of everything. I’ll only be a few minutes behind you.” She shoved him, and he got out of the car.

“He’s just a spirit, Jay,” he said, his hand resting on the open door.

“He’s not just a spirit to me, little brother. Do this for me? Please?”

Jeremy held up his hands, then smacked them against his thighs in defeat. “I’ll try. Whatever you’re doing, make it fast.”

She drove as fast as she dared on the narrow road, hoping she could find the turn she’d taken mental note of while browsing a map of the park when she’d checked in.

She took inventory of her backseat in her head. Her grandfather’s book of incantations? Check. Her notebooks full of her own incantations? Check. Nerve? Did she have enough nerve to execute her plan?

Her mouth went dry and her heart’s rhythm shuddered as much as the car on the washboard road. There was too much at stake for her to fail. Both Dutch’s freedom and his existence could be lost—because if Aaron failed to enslave him, an exorcism would follow—but that wasn’t all. She hadn’t had time to gather all her thoughts, but lying awake the night before, she’d realized a way to further her professional goals was presenting itself.

Her brothers would never agree to the idea.

Dutch would never agree to the idea.

Without Dutch, she wouldn’t have the courage to go through with the idea.

Hell, it might not even work.

But if it did…

She had to jump in and get her feet wet. Literally. A small green sign identified her turn and she progressed slowly down the steep, even narrower road that led to a fishing area below the falls. She parked, got into the backseat, and opened her grandfather’s book.

She grabbed a pen and one of her notebooks. She needed a portion of her grandfather’s slave incantation edited into a passage she wrote a year ago, one that, at the time, had been a mistake. Almost a deadly one. She scribbled Latin in shorthand, using symbols for certain multi-purpose passages she’d long ago memorized.

She ripped the page out of the notebook and bolted from the car.

The nearest fishermen were well downstream. Jade waded into the water, the cold making it hard to breathe, and made her way upstream toward the base of the falls, the roar deafening.

The mist saturated the paper. The ink ran.

“Shit!” Shivering, she held the blurring words up and began to read the first verse even as she continued to progress, struggling on the slippery rocks beneath her feet. She needed to be here despite the danger. It was, she believed, the most concentrated area of power other than Dutch’s grave itself—perhaps the source of energy for the whole area.

If something went wrong and she died, it was best to be where Dutch died and continue living as he had.

As she recited one of the memorized passages, she looked up to the spot where Dutch had fallen over a century ago. He’d become a ghost here, among these rocks and rushing currents that tried to rip her feet out from under her. His first disorientated, conscious moments after his death may well have taken place exactly where she stood now.

But he hadn’t died, not the way a human being normally passes on. The power of this place, power perhaps centered at these falls, had given him a heartbeat.

A heartbeat that had given her and Dutch the chance to cross paths in this world.

A heartbeat that she wanted to listen to tonight when she fell asleep.

A heartbeat that now gave her the courage to read the third and final verse.

Shouting to hear herself over the falls, she completed the incantation.

…

“Let him go,” Jeremy’s voice shouted over the din of the falls below.

Dutch released Aaron from the chokehold, but didn’t return the exorcist’s ability to speak. “Ghost got your tongue?”

Aaron glared as he kneeled, catching his breath.

Jeremy walked over and stood between them. “Aaron, would it kill you to listen to someone else’s opinion once in your life?”

More glaring. Dutch shook his head. Damn, this guy never gave up, did he?

“Our sister has gone to do grandfather-knows-what because you can never be reasoned with,” Jeremy continued, staring down at Aaron. “If she gets into any kind of trouble, I’m holding you responsible.”

“Where’s Jade?” Dutch demanded. What was she up to?

“I don’t know.” Jeremy rubbed the spot between his eyes beneath his lenses. “Whatever you’re doing to Aaron, stop it.”

“And let him bind me to my grave with a few words? No.”

“This impasse requires a little trust to break,” Jeremy said quietly.

“Would you trust him if you were a ghost?”

Jeremy grimaced.

“I thought not.”

Jeremy paced around, scanning the area. “You have to admit, Aaron, this place is unique. Dutch is unique. To call him truly dead would be unjust. I agree with Jade that you need to back the hell off and let her handle this.”

Aaron shook his head.

“You know,” Jeremy said, turning to Dutch, “I could get used to him being mute.”

Dutch grinned.

“Me, too,” Jade’s voice said.

Dutch froze, overwhelmed by the presence of an unexpected spirit drawing closer to him, the additional energy visible as faint fog moving independent of the mist. She took form, wearing the jeans and green gauzy shirt she’d had on earlier, her dark hair loose around her arms.

“Jade?” He stared, his corporeal body as numb as his incorporeal one. “What…what did you…”

Jeremy stuttered something similar, from what Dutch could tell through the ringing in his ears.

Jade held up a hand. “It’s not what it looks like. I’m okay.”

“What, exactly, is it then?” Aaron said, his voice shaking, still on his knees. Dutch had lost his concentration on the exorcist’s vocal cords.

Jeremy stood still and wide-eyed. “Jay-Jay,” he whispered. “What did you do?”

Jade’s tone firmed and she leaned toward Aaron. “First, I chained my spirit to Dutch’s—not a full slave bond at all, not even enough to cause us any discomfort, but enough that if you exorcise him, you’ll destroy me, too. Enslaving him would enslave me. Understand?”

Aaron nodded, his face so pale he could have been a ghost himself. Dutch figured being as familiar as Jade was with their great grandfather’s work, Aaron wouldn’t doubt she was right.

“Good. Second.” She straightened and met all their gazes. “Yes, I left my body to accomplish bonding myself to Dutch, but no, I didn’t kill myself. It was a risk, but I’m fine.”

Jeremy sputtered something unintelligible and sank to the ground.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Aaron got to his feet. He gripped Jade’s arms but she didn’t struggle, so Dutch resisted any vengeful spirit moves. “Do you have any idea how dangerous—”

“I know exactly, and I was as careful as time allowed. I had to show you how serious I am about you leaving Dutch alone. I needed to make absolutely sure you couldn’t exorcise him, enslave him, or anything else.”

“Such an incantation could have killed you. Ripping your soul from your body? It hasn’t been studied or practiced. What if you’d stopped breathing?”

“My body is safe in my car. Breathing. I know it could have killed me,” she said evenly, eased out of Aaron’s grip, and turned to Dutch. “But I would still have had a body and a heartbeat.”

“Jade,” he said, his throat tight.

She hooked an arm through his and spoke to her brothers. “I would like to stay here awhile. As a spirit myself, benefitting from the powers of this place, I’m an even stronger exorcist, and I stand to learn so much about the spirit world. I might finally be able to write an incantation to help spirits move on without destroying them. Both of you know how much that means to me, even if it means nothing to you.”

Aaron sighed. “I know I’m an asshole, Jade, but you’re my sister and that does mean something to me.”

Jeremy nodded.

“Don’t scare us like this again,” Aaron said, his voice broken.

Jade hugged him. “If you give me the same courtesy. Do you have any idea how scared I was when I heard you were going to enslave Dutch?”

Aaron’s throat worked. “Let’s call it even, then.”

“I happen to like Dutch very much.”

His breath left his body. Could he be that lucky? After so many years of being alone?

“Hmm.” Aaron scowled, but after a second, the corners of his mouth curved upward the slightest bit. “Derrick Hutchinson, you treat my little sister right, or I’ll find a way to break that bond and exorcise your ass.”

“I’ll help,” Jeremy said from his position on the ground with his head between his knees.

“Brothers,” Jade muttered.

“They love you. I can’t blame them.” Dutch’s hands found her hips. He bent his head and whispered in her ear. “Because I like you very much, too.”

…

Standing in front of the cabin’s bathroom mirror, Jade dissolved her corporeal body. She took form again. She disappeared. She reappeared.

“Neat.” The idea of being all but dead, her body in indefinite stasis, disturbed her to the point that she simply had to focus on other things, and the ability to blink in and out proved to be a great distraction. Being a spirit would take some getting used to, but she had no regrets.

Dutch materialized at her back, his arms around her waist. He brushed his lips across her nape, and her whole body warmed. “It’s done. They’re on their way back.”

She nodded, relaxing. After her reunion with her brothers and a lengthy discussion of the probable preternatural qualities of the gorge, they’d decided to pay off the park for long-term, exclusive use of the most remote cabin on the property—so Jade could do her work and not worry about hiding her body. No one wanted to risk removing her body from the area—the hot spot that fueled her and Dutch’s abilities—and accidently harm Jade in the process.

Dutch’s embrace tightened. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m okay.” She ran her hands over his arms, gathering her thoughts. He felt as real as ever under her touch—there was no difference between her living body and this one. “Are we trapped here?”

“No. I tested it once and traveled thousands of miles with no trouble, and I’m sure I could have kept going.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Then why stay here and let loneliness consume you as it did? You could have kept living. Gotten a job, made friends…”

“Perhaps,” he said, but he shook his head as he spoke. “I considered that course at one time. But I wouldn’t have aged, so I would’ve had to uproot myself every few years. Severed ties. Like dying over and over again.” He sighed. “It didn’t appeal. Even with you…”

She turned within his arms and kissed him. “I now have the sort of access to the spirit world that a living exorcist could never attain. This is a chance to prevent the exorcism of innocents by providing my brothers with information. But that’s not the only reason I chose to do this to myself.” She rested her hands on his chest. “I also have the chance to stay with you and, if it works out as I hope it will, we won’t have to worry about me aging. And since we’re not trapped here, I can take you out and show you firsthand all that’s happened in a hundred years. I promised you many more nights, and I make good on my promises.”

He cocked his head and ran his fingertips down her throat, warming her entire body with the lightest of touches. “Why do you want to stay with me?”

“So we can get coffee. Have dinner. Go for walks together.” She arched an eyebrow. “Make love every night—”

He crushed his mouth to hers and pressed her against the wall. “That,” he said between fevered kisses, “sounds like life.”

Acknowledgments

Tremendous thanks go out to all the editors and staff at Entangled Publishing who made this book possible, especially Marie Loggia-Kee and Liz Pelletier.

Thank you so much, Jeanne Haskin, for providing your always spot-on opinion and a second set of eyes, even in a pinch.

About the Author

Sarah Gilman writes paranormal romance. Her fascination with all things winged extends back to childhood, when images of the ancient Egyptian goddess Isis captured her imagination and never let go. She lives in Vermont with her supportive husband and two spoiled cats.

Content

Ghosts of the Falls
by
Sarah Gilman

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Acknowledgments

About the Author