Unholy Ground Read online

  As he’d told Audrey earlier, this was about justice, not revenge.

  They decided against dessert, then paid the bill and left. The country roads were very dark, far darker than what he was used to in his suburban neighborhood with its lights placed at careful intervals, but the nav got them back safely to their hotel, despite the occasional patches of fog they had to drive through. And the inn itself had solar lights to guide them from the parking area to their room, so there wasn’t much chance of a misstep.

  Michael closed the door behind them, then locked it. Although the building was quite old — according to the Cornwall Inn’s website, it had been built in the mid-1800s — he couldn’t detect any ghostly presences here, only a sense of well-being. Somehow, he knew this place would shelter them and keep them safe this night.

  Tomorrow…well, they’d deal with that when they had to.

  He turned to Audrey, saw her watching him carefully. Her full lips lifted in a smile.

  “I’m feeling much better now.”

  Did he move first, or did she? Michael supposed it really didn’t matter. What mattered was that in the next second, they were in one another’s arms, lips locked as he savored the sweetly sharp taste of wine on her tongue. Her body was pressed against his, breasts full and soft and just asking to be caressed.

  He lifted a hand, touched her, could feel the hardness of her nipple through the thin bra and lightweight cashmere sweater she was wearing. A soft moan escaped her, barely more than a sigh.

  That was enough. He took hold of that sweater, pulled it over her head, then found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it. At once her breasts spilled out, lush and so full and rounded, he had to bend his head to give them the proper attention. He suckled one, fingers stroking the other, and this time she moaned, a deep, almost guttural sound that made his erection strain against his pants.

  They fell onto the bed, her fingers fumbling with the button on his trousers, while he did the same thing with her jeans. A moment later, and both garments were on the floor, soon to be followed by their underwear.

  It was chilly in here, now that the cool air was touching his bare skin. Michael flung back the bedcovers, and they both burrowed underneath, holding on to each other for warmth. Within a few seconds, though, that slight discomfort was forgotten, and they kissed again, his cock pushing against her thigh. She reached down to stroke him, and he groaned as well this time, knowing that it wouldn’t take very much to push him over the edge.

  Audrey seemed to understand this as well, because she locked her legs around his thighs, pulling him into her as she straddled him. And oh, God, the feel of her body, the delicious sensations as she let him bury himself deep within her, knowing he would never achieve this symmetry with anyone else, that she was the only match for his lonely soul. Tragedy had touched them both, a history that made sure they would always be forever entwined. But love had conquered that tragedy, had driven away those shadows with its blinding light.

  No matter what happened, this bliss could never be taken away from them.

  The orgasm hit and he cried out, glad that the room next to theirs was empty. A second or two later, Audrey moaned as well, fingers clenched in his as she rode out the orgasm, head tilted back so the sweep of her long hair brushed against the tops of his thighs. His body was so alive with sensation right then, even that feathery touch was enough to make him moan again, a second, fainter spasm moving through his limbs.

  And then she was sliding off him, lying down so her body pressed against his, warm and welcome.

  “I love you,” she said simply.

  “I love you,” he replied, then bent to brush a kiss against her forehead.

  Was there ever a moment more perfect than this? Michael didn’t know for sure, but he knew then he would do whatever it took to keep the woman he loved safe.

  No matter what.

  Chapter 15

  Audrey awoke the next morning feeling deliciously satisfied, but also with a faint hovering worry at the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite place. For a moment, she was still, looking at the pale light seeping around the edges of their room’s blackout curtains, and then she realized what it was that bothered her, why something had come along to interfere with her morning afterglow.

  She and Michael had a date with a demon.

  A shiver moved through her, and almost at once, Michael was awake, gilt-flecked gray eyes focusing on her as he lay there on his side. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, almost adding, Just someone walking over my grave…before she realized that probably wasn’t the best saying to use in this particular instance. “I slept really well. You?”

  “Like a rock.”

  In a way, she was surprised by that, because one thing she’d learned about Michael in the time she’d been living with him was that his sleep tended to be restless, that he shifted positions often and sometimes even cried out in his sleep, although he wouldn’t confess to any nightmares when she asked him about his dreams. Somehow, she’d thought he would be haunted by those subconscious specters here as well, in a place only a few miles away from their dark destination.

  But apparently the universe had decided he needed his rest, or maybe all the turmoil of the past few days had finally caught up with him, because he’d been deeply asleep the one time she woke up in the middle of the night and quietly slipped out from under the covers so she could retrieve her nightgown from her suitcase. She’d felt chilly despite having Michael there in bed next to her. He’d slept through the whole process, hadn’t even stirred when she slid back in beside him and accidentally touched his leg with one of her cold feet.

  She snuggled up against him, pressed a kiss against his stubbled cheek. He wrapped his arms around her, but in more of a comforting, affectionate way, not because he was expecting a repeat of the night before. That had been a quick, intense coupling, a way for them to reaffirm their connection to one another.

  Today…today was more about recognizing the love that had come upon them so unexpectedly and with such force. They would need that strength, that force, to do what needed to be done.

  “Okay if I get in the shower first?” she asked. “I need to wash my hair — I didn’t have time yesterday since we had to be at the airport so early.”

  “Go ahead,” he replied. “I have to look a few things up on my laptop anyway.”

  She reluctantly untangled herself from his arms, then got out from under the covers. “I think the wi-fi password is on the little card next to your side of the bed.”

  “No need for that,” Michael said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. The covers fell away, revealing his broad chest and the wonderfully toned muscles of his stomach. “I’m going to tether on my phone,” he went on. “It’s more secure than using a shared wi-fi network.”

  Desire stirred within her as she looked at him, but Audrey resolutely pushed it away. They’d have plenty of time for that after…well, after.

  If there was an after.

  And of course he wanted to use his cell connection rather than trust someone else’s wi-fi. She smothered a smile and said, “Okay. I’ll try to be fast, but blow-drying all this hair takes a while.”

  “Not a problem.” His eyes glinted a little as he took in the silly flannel nightshirt she wore, pale blue with penguins and snowflakes printed on the fabric. “Where did that come from?”

  “Like you said, you slept like a rock. I got it out of my suitcase last night.”

  He smiled a little, then treated her to a brief glimpse of his bare backside as he leaned over to scoop up his underwear from the spot where it had landed the night before. Then he got out of bed, too, but briefly, only long enough to retrieve his laptop before returning to his same seated position on the bed.

  Audrey gathered up her toiletries and some fresh panties, along with the jeans and thermal shirt she planned to wear today under her down jacket. She hoped the combination would be warm enough. Then again, it looked as though a
good bit of hiking lay in store today, so maybe the exercise would be enough to keep her from getting too chilled. And really, the temperature was the least of her worries.

  After brushing her teeth — even though she knew she’d have to do it all over again after breakfast — she got in the shower. The water was hot almost instantly, a welcome relief. Still, she didn’t luxuriate, but washed her hair and herself as quickly as she could, then also went about drying her hair, although that took a good twenty minutes, partly because she had so much of it, and partly because the blow dryer that had come with the room was wimpy compared to the one she’d been using at Michael’s house.

  Still, only a little more than half an hour had passed since she went into the bathroom, which was about as good as it was going to get. There was a small table and mirror out in the main sleeping portion of the room, and she figured she could do her makeup there while he showered.

  “All yours,” she told Michael, who was frowning as he stared down at his laptop screen. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes,” he said absently. “I’m just trying to figure out our best angle of approach.”

  Almost at once, the warm glow she’d felt after getting out of the shower disappeared. She really didn’t want to think about going into haunted Dudleytown. As she’d gotten ready, she’d done her damnedest to think about pretty much anything else. It had helped her to tell herself this was just another normal morning, and that there wasn’t anything so special about this day.

  Well, the strategy had worked for a while, at least.

  “I suppose one section of trackless wilderness looks just like another,” she remarked.

  A corner of his mouth quirked. “It’s not even really trackless. This part of the world has been settled for a long, long time. There are still remnants of the roads people used back in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. And there’s an actual paved lane that goes through part of what used to be Dudleytown, because a few people still live out there. But I’m going to avoid that section.”

  “Because you don’t want to get caught trespassing?” He’d told her that the area where they were headed was locked down, that they’d be committing a misdemeanor the second they went through the wire fence that enclosed Dudleytown and its environs.

  “That’s the least of our worries.” He shook his head, then set the laptop aside, closing the lid as he did so. “No, it’s just that I doubt our demon friend would have his portal anywhere near the places where people actually live. It will probably be deeper in the woods, away from prying eyes.”

  That made sense, although she didn’t much like the idea of being quite so far away from civilization. Then again, it wasn’t as though any of the people still living in the Dudleytown area could have offered assistance. This expedition was something that required Michael’s skills and training…and apparently her own psychic abilities, although Audrey wasn’t so sure she really wanted to rely on those.

  “Got it,” she said, about the most neutral comment she could make. While she had a feeling Michael knew how worried she was about the coming confrontation, there was no point in advertising her concern. He understood. Hell, he was probably scared, too. But he wasn’t going to back down. Too much damage had already been done. This all needed to end here.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything. Instead, he got up from the bed, then went into the closet to get his clothes for today’s hike in the woods and headed past her into the bathroom. A moment later, the shower started up.

  Maybe she should have come up with something reassuring to say, something that would let him know she would see this through with him. He already knew that, however, and she wasn’t about to lie to him just to make herself seem any less frightened than she was.

  Lips thinning a bit, she got out her small makeup bag, then did the best she could with the cramped little mirror that hung above the table. The makeup was probably more to make her feel better about the situation than because Michael cared what she looked like — he always called her beautiful, even in the morning with yesterday’s eyeliner smudged on her cheeks and her hair a mess.

  And she sure as hell wasn’t putting on the makeup to impress the Whitcomb-demon. A little shiver went through her at the mere thought.

  But there was something reassuring about the routine, about brushing on the powder foundation — which she told herself was practical because it had an SPF of fifteen — and a little bit of blush, of putting on mascara and a rosy-toned moisturizing lipstick. No need for anything else, not when she was going to be hiking all day, but she felt better when she was done.

  She left off her silver ring and earrings, but the silver cross and silver-topped black tourmaline point hung around her neck, just as they had every day since Michael had first given them to her. And then she took out the small box she’d hidden in her makeup bag, and opened it to reveal the delicate gold lavaliere pendant inside.

  Why she’d brought it along, Audrey wasn’t sure. Possibly because it was one of the few things she had left of her family. True, she had her mother’s diamond eternity band, but it was much more valuable than the pendant, and she hadn’t wanted to risk it. But she wanted to wear something that reminded her of the mother and father she’d lost, a sort of secret talisman to give her the strength she would need to face down the creature that had taken away so much from her.

  She slipped the lavaliere under the neckline of her Henley-style thermal shirt, where it clinked gently against the cross and the black tourmaline pendant. The only thing left to do was to slip an elastic band for her hair into her jeans pocket, just in case she got too warm on the hike or the day got windy and she needed to get her hair out of the way.

  The shower water had stopped, but Audrey could hear the low whine of Michael’s razor now, telling her that he wouldn’t be out of the bathroom for a few more minutes. No worries about him being clean-shaven, though; he had that thing set to always leave about a quarter-inch or so of stubble behind. She might have chuckled at the affectation, except she liked him scruffy. Besides, the one time she’d teased him about it, he threatened to grow a full-blown hipster beard, and no way was she going to allow that. Scruff was one thing. A full-on Duck Dynasty beard was quite another.

  Eventually, he emerged from the bathroom, his hair looking damp but at least not dripping wet. He was wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of jeans, and went into his suitcase once again, this time to retrieve a black sweater, which he slipped over his head. Just a bit of the T-shirt peeked past the collar of the sweater, giving the slight illusion of a clerical collar.

  Had he planned that effect on purpose? It was hard to say, since Michael’s wardrobe seemed to consist of black, black, more black, and a little gray for variety.

  He went over to the window and drew back the curtains a few inches. The day outside looked gray, misty, a little drizzly. Perfect for staying inside and having a fire, reading a book. For tromping around in a haunted forest, looking for a demon?

  Not so much.

  “I’ll get my jacket,” she said, trying not to sound resigned. Their room wasn’t actually connected to the main part of the inn where the breakfast room was located, and so she’d need to suit up if she wanted to stay dry.

  As soon as they were outside, Audrey was glad that Michael had insisted on her getting a better jacket before they made this trip to Connecticut. He’d told her that the leather jackets she’d gotten as part of her Project Demon Hunters wardrobe were just fine for Southern California or even Arizona, but there was no way they’d stand up to early March in New England. That was for sure — the air was damp and raw, with the sort of cold that seemed to work its way up through the soles of her feet. But the puffy coat she wore now had the added bonus of faux fur lining over the torso, so she thought she’d be okay even if she had to spend most of the day outdoors.

  In contrast to the dismal day outside, the breakfast room was warm and cheerful. An older couple sat at one of the other tables, and offered Audrey and Michael a
quick hello before the man and woman returned to their coffee. Almost as soon as they sat at their own table, Lou was there with a pot of coffee, filling the mugs that already waited at their place settings.

  “Sleep well?” he asked.

  “Like babies,” Michael replied.

  Clearly satisfied with that response, Lou told them breakfast would be out in a few minutes, but they were welcome to have a muffin or some toast to tide them over.

  Audrey couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a homemade blueberry muffin, and the one she retrieved from the basket on the sideboard was so sublime, she though they just might have to come back here for a real vacation. Michael seemed equally happy with his apple spice muffin, so they ate in comfortable silence as they drank their coffee.

  It wasn’t as though they could have discussed their upcoming expedition, anyway. When Lou came back out with plates of scrambled eggs and hash browns and fruit, he asked what their plans were for the day. Michael offered a vague, “Oh, exploring and antiquing,” but that seemed to be enough to satisfy their host, since he said that sounded like fun and then went off to check on his other guests.

  Too bad their plans for the day weren’t nearly that harmless. Audrey did what she could to focus on the food before her, since she knew she was going to need her strength for the coming confrontation, but the closer she got to finishing her meal, the more her stomach began to knot up. Michael appeared far more relaxed, commenting on prospects for shopping and hiking as though he really had prepared for those activities, rather than trespassing on the Dark Forest Entry trust’s land in search of a demon.