Why had her father been so angry with Grandma? Belle couldn’t understand why he’d kept her from a loving grandmother. It was so obvious the woman had adored her only son. In earlier entries, she’d written tearfully about sending him away for boarding school. She’d missed her son desperately, but wanted what was best for him. How had her father not seen or believed in that love?

Belle read the entry again, looking for clues. The words seemed to swell off the page and into her consciousness. Fight. Fight for the love she wanted and deserved. Risk her heart. Take a chance.

It scared her. She’d already seen what life looked like when one didn’t. Her grandmother had ended up alone. Her mother, too. Her father…she recalled his occasionally withdrawn moods. Had her family all walked away from love and lived to regret it? Could she break the cycle?

On the other hand, she’d tried so hard as a child to make her mom love her again following her father’s passing and she’d failed. After that, she’d stopped trying at all, refusing to let herself be hurt again.

Was she playing out the same patterns as her ancestors? Sure, she’d listened to Kellan’s terrible past, even empathized with him, but had she fought for him? Really? For all of them to stay and love her?

No. She’d pushed them away to protect her heart, but it was already breaking. And if she didn’t change something now, she feared she’d soon mourn the fact that she had not done absolutely everything she could to keep them.

The light in the room flickered on again. Belle glanced up at the big fixture dangling from the ceiling. It flared and died, a popping sound splitting the air.

She stood. Damn it. Mike had sworn everything was up to current code. He’d smiled and taken her check, and now Belle kind of wanted to punch him in the face. Guess she’d be calling him again in the morning.

With a sigh, she leaned back against the chair, wishing her other problems would be half so easy to fix.

Suddenly, every hair on her body stood up. The air seemed to turn electric. Goose bumps covered her body.

A shadow snagged her attention, and Belle zipped her gaze to the far wall in time to watch a dark mass move across the area. She gulped in a silent breath, her eyes widening as the figure moved toward the window. The whole room seemed to turn cold.

There was no way to deny what her eyes were seeing. That shadow moving across her wall didn’t move like a person. It seemed to float off the ground. It didn’t have defined legs.

It wasn’t of this world.

A cold menace snaked across her skin. All the air in the room was suddenly sucked away. Her lungs ached. Time slowed to a stop as she watched the black mass pause, turn. Was it coming her way?

She felt a cold touch on her shoulder, almost like an icy finger passing through her flesh. She heard a scream. Then the whole world went black.


* * * *


Kellan’s heart threatened to stop when he heard the blood-curdling scream fill the whole space as though the house itself was screaming.

He dropped the file he’d been studying and ran because Belle was in trouble.

“Belle!” Tate yelled for her as he jumped to his feet.

“The parlor.” Eric picked up his cell phone as they all sprinted toward that section of the house. “She always reads in there at this time of night.”

Kellan got to her first. She looked so frail and delicate, her body slumped over in the big chair. He got to his knees, feeling for a pulse. Praying for a pulse. God, what had happened?

“Kellan?” Her lashes fluttered, her eyes opening slowly.

“I’m here, love.”

With a cry, she threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his body as if he was a life preserver in the middle of a raging sea.

“I’m calling 911,” Eric barked.

“Do you see something? Someone? I’ll do a search.” Tate stood tense as he stared down at her.

“Don’t,” she said quickly, sniffling slightly as she shook her head. “Don’t call anyone. They’ll just think I’m crazy.”

“Love, we need to get this on record. Who was in here?” It had been so quiet the last few days, Kell had almost believed that whoever had tried to scare her previously had moved on. He’d hoped that whoever wanted her out had realized that scare tactics wouldn’t work. No. They’d just been waiting, plotting, and escalating. He was going to kill whoever had rattled her with his bare hands.

Belle pulled back, trying to stand on shaky feet. “No one. I mean no one alive.”

Had she been drinking? “What?”

She scanned the room fearfully, as though trying to find something no longer there. “It was here. A big shadow… I-it was shaped like a man mostly, but I felt its evil. God, Kellan. The room got so cold. I felt him touch me and it nearly made me sick.”

His heart was still thundering in his chest, but he frowned. Was she implying that she’d seen a ghost? He wondered what exactly her grandmother had been writing about in that journal of hers because it was making Belle’s imagination run wild.

“I’m sure you just fell asleep and had another bad dream.”

Her eyes narrowed into a stubborn glare. “I did not fall asleep.” She frowned, swallowing. “I didn’t want to believe it myself, but I think this house is haunted and by more than one entity.”

Yeah, what the hell did he do with that? “Okay, maybe we should have you talk to someone. You’re under a lot of stress.”

Tate cleared his throat and suddenly looked sheepish. “I might need to talk to someone, too.”

Belle turned, gasping as she reached for Tate’s hand. “You’ve seen something?”

Kellan frowned at Tate. What the hell was he up to? “Are you serious?”

Tate flushed slightly, his big shoulders shrugging in a self-conscious gesture. “Maybe. Look, there are some weird things going on in this place.”

Eric pocketed his cell again. “It’s a historic house, man. You’ve never lived in a really old place like this. There’s always settling, and the electricity is obviously still faulty. There’s a logical explanation.”

“Okay, explain why the dog barks at shit that’s not there,” Tate shot back.

It took everything Kellan had not to roll his eyes. “Uhm, because he’s a dog and not a very smart one.”

Seemingly of its own accord, Kell’s head jerked slightly to the right. Damn it. He was going to have to get that checked out. He seemed to have developed a tic in his neck that caused him to jerk occasionally.

Belle stood by Tate, obviously picking her side of the fence. “Sir is not stupid.”

Oh, she was going to change that dog’s name if it was the last thing he did. “Love, he’s out chasing a cat across the courtyard. He’s not exactly a Rhodes Scholar.”

Eric crossed his arms over his chest. “It is a little creepy how he acts sometimes. I caught him growling at a closet the other day. Like really growling. He was ready to attack.”

“A lot of people believe animals see things we can’t,” Belle argued. “That animals have extra or heightened senses.”

“And some people think Santa Claus is real. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not.” His head jerked again. Damn it. Maybe there was something neurologically wrong with him.

“Are you okay?” Belle’s eyes softened with concern.

“It’s a just a tic, love. Sometimes I get them when I’m stressed.” Though usually it was in his left eyelid. He’d never had his neck jerk like someone had slapped him upside the head.

Tate held up a hand. “Look, all I know is there are creepy parts of this house.”

Kell glared. Tate was supposed to be the logical one. “What does science tell you, man? I really thought you would be on my side. You were raised by scientists.”

“Yeah, uhm, what science tells us above all else is that we don’t know everything. The Greeks explained thunderstorms as Zeus getting pissed off and throwing lightning bolts around. How do we know that the ghost thing isn’t a way of explaining something we don’t understand yet? A truly good scientist leaves room for possibilities.”

“Do you really think that Belle saw a ghost?” Eric asked, shaking his head. “Because that seems farfetched.”

“To you, sure. But an iPod would look like magic to someone who lived a hundred years ago. I’m just saying there are more things in heaven and earth than are obviously a part of the grand philosophy of Kellan. Forty-eight percent of all Americans believe in ghosts. And this particular one seems to like to pat my ass,” Tate said with a sigh. “It’s happened more than once.”

“What?” Belle’s eyes widened.

“Dude, come on.” Kell frowned. Was Tate trying to get in good with Belle or had he just lost his mind?

Even in the dim light of the room, he could see Tate’s face flush a bright shade of red. “I started feeling it a couple of days ago. A cold spot drifts around me. I don’t feel…alone anymore. Then something pats me on the butt. I don’t know how else to say it. I also think I saw the shower curtain moving on its own today. Baby, did you sneak in and write nice ass on the bathroom mirror this morning?”

“No,” Belle assured. But she looked alarmed.

Eric held up his hands. “Dude, I try to not look at your ass even though you walk around with it hanging free most of the time.”

They all turned to stare at Kell, and he rolled his eyes. “Do you honestly believe I would come up with a practical joke like that? I have no sense of humor.”

It was a sad fact of life. He’d lost his sense of humor when he’d lost everything else. Though the idea of some perverted ghost having a fixation on Tate’s butt was kind of funny.