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Gone Haunting in Deadwood Page 6


  “What about it?” Doc asked.

  Layne pulled out his chair and dropped into it. “Well, I was putting Elvis in her cage and I noticed that the clock isn’t ticking anymore.”

  It wasn’t? When had it stopped? I hadn’t heard any cuckooing, but then again I’d been gone all day.

  In the grand scheme of timekeeping I knew very little at the moment. However, one bit of information I’d gleaned was that when the clock cuckooed or chimed, it meant that whatever being was tethered to that clock was either entering or leaving this plane of existence. In short, it meant a change was occurring. Whether or not the clock’s arms started or stopped moving indicated whether the “traveler” was among us.

  Mr. Black had written in the note that he had given me the Hellhound clock as a means of protection. The traveler it monitored purportedly had one goal while on this plane—to hunt me. The idea was to eliminate me from the game of life for good, along with my kids, Aunt Zoe, and anyone else who carried the Executioner gene and could potentially slay those bent on wreaking havoc.

  “Did you hear any cuckooing today?” Doc asked. He knew as much as I did about timekeeping and the telltale clocks that came with the job.

  “No,” Layne answered.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. While Layne hadn’t gone through the step-by-step process required to become a Timekeeper, his picture had played a role in turning me into one. Doc and I had both wondered if that minor connection had somehow pulled him into the loop. His not hearing any cuckooing or chiming answered that question, since only Timekeepers could hear those sounds. Then again, Layne had been at school for much of the day. He might have been gone when the clock was cuckooing.

  Cooper joined us at the table, setting a big bowl of coleslaw in the center. “You mean the clock’s arms aren’t moving, right?” The detective also knew the rules of the clock game.

  “Yes. It’s broke, I think.”

  “You didn’t move the clock arms, right?” Manually moving the arms was a big no-no in the Timekeeping world, screwing up gates between realms.

  “No, Mother. You’ve made it clear that we are not to move or touch anything on the clock.”

  “Good.”

  Doc and I shared a frown.

  Maybe it was time to contact Mr. Black for another lesson on the clocks. Somehow I needed to figure out which traveler that clock was monitoring and how much time I had before the predator returned to continue the hunt.

  Chapter Four

  “Have you ever wondered why there weren’t any women undertakers in the Old West?” I asked Doc, who was staring out the kitchen window into the darkness beyond. The only light in the room came from the string of Christmas lights Aunt Zoe had taped around the window. Shades of blue, green, yellow, and red added a colorful glow to his olive complexion.

  “There were female undertakers.” He took a hit from his bottle of beer. “And you’re avoiding my question.”

  “I’m not avoiding.”

  It was more about not wanting to explore the rocky territory where my answer might take us. Not tonight, anyway. Big snowflakes were falling outside and lights were twinkling on the Christmas tree in the living room. Couldn’t we take a break from the insanity that was now my life and enjoy an evening of snuggling under a blanket on the couch and watch a holiday movie? A normal date night that ended with us wrapped in my bed, naked, exploring skin, pretending we were going to live long enough to grow old and wrinkly together.

  “Definitely avoiding,” he said, glancing at me. “Same as earlier when everyone was still here.”

  “It wasn’t a good time, especially with Cooper listening.”

  Shortly after Doc had asked me his question earlier, Cooper’s phone rang. Work wasn’t ready to let him go for the night. When Natalie made a biting remark about Cooper living for his job, the detective nailed her with a scowl and explained that he was on call this weekend. She glared back, not backing down, leaving me to suspect the burn of rejection still stung after a steamy night years ago when he’d chosen his job over her.

  An hour later, after Natalie and Harvey had left, I went upstairs to find Layne already in bed reading a book about the history of medieval weapons and their uses. Sheesh, obsess much? I asked him about his newfound interest in weapons, trying to see if he’d figured out my Executioner secret somehow. Without removing his nose from the pages, he answered that he thought they were cool. After a peck on his forehead and a reminder to brush and floss, I’d gone to my bedroom to change into pajamas and a robe.

  I’d returned to the kitchen to find Doc staring out the kitchen window. Grabbing a beer, I’d leaned on the counter beside him. That was when he’d once again asked the question I still wasn’t ready to answer.

  “How come I’ve never heard of any female undertakers in the Old West before now?” I asked.

  “If memory serves me right, you’re not into reading about history, including your own.” He shifted, resting his hip against the counter, facing me. “Deadwood had a female undertaker early on, but there isn’t a lot written about her in the books in the library.”

  I needed to tell Harvey about her. Maybe he’d seen something on a television show or in a magazine about her and that’s why she was bumping around in his thoughts. “You’d think a woman undertaker would be something worth talking about in the newspapers and history books.” I wondered if Eddie Mudder, the owner of the Mudder Brothers Funeral Parlor, knew anything about her.

  Doc drained his beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. Moving closer, he lifted me onto the counter and settled himself between my knees, and rested his palms on my fleece-covered thighs. He smelled delicious—sugary sweet along with his usual woodsy scented cologne.

  “Did you get into the molasses cookies without me?” I asked.

  His lips curved. “I left you plenty. Answer my question, Killer.”

  I sighed, leaning my head against the cabinet. Doc had his teeth sunk into this. There’d be no changing the subject short of tearing off my pajamas and resorting to a naked diversion, and even then he’d come back around to his question once we finished taking care of business. I might as well open the can of worms and let my worries wriggle around between us.

  “I don’t know when I’m going to start hunting the lidérc, but it has to be soon,” I told him.

  The smoky Hungarian devil had slipped through my fingers last month when I’d tried to kill it. Now its previous owner wanted his pet back and had shared information in exchange for my Executioner services. In spite of my being a killer, not a catcher, Dominick Masterson was certain I was the woman for the job.

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I had little doubt that he’d follow through on his threat if I failed to deliver on the deal we’d made. The slick charmer had set his sights on Aunt Zoe, and if I didn’t bring his pet back to him, he planned to wrap her around his finger until he grew bored of toying with her. Since Dominick had already lived many human lifetimes, Aunt Zoe’s remaining years would be a blink for him. Neither she nor I wanted to see her end up in his bed.

  “I want to go with you on all hunts.” Doc’s tone left no room for argument.

  I shook my head, bucking his tone. “Aunt Zoe thinks the hunt is going to be even more dangerous now that the lidérc knows it can’t trick me with its usual mind games.”

  “I’ll be extra careful and take precautions.”

  Care and caution might not be enough. “Doc, I don’t want anything to happen to—”

  “You agreed to let me try to protect you, remember?”

  Of course I remembered. It was part of the outcome of one of our louder arguments where I’d said a lot of stupid shit that I still regretted voicing aloud. I’d learned a few things that night after our fight, including who killed my old boss and how powerful Dominick Masterson was.

  I took one of Doc’s hands in mine, threading our fingers together. “That was before I knew what I really was.” Finding out I was born to kill had been an eye-op
ener, a fact about myself that I still didn’t want to face most days. Especially when I tucked my children in at night.

  “You need an extra set of eyes and ears even more now.” Doc wasn’t giving up easily, not that I expected him to. Like me, he was stubborn when he’d set his mind to a task.

  “It’s a bad idea, Doc. I’m still learning how to hunt and kill. What if I screw up and the lidérc latches onto you?”

  Hungarian devils were parasitic, feeding off humans until the host was sucked dry. If anything happened to Doc because I messed up during the hunt, I would spend the rest of my days in gut-aching hell.

  He tugged on one of my loose curls. “Violet, nobody learns anything important without getting it wrong at first.”

  “Doc …”

  “If the lidérc attaches to me, you’ll figure out how to remove it.”

  He sounded far more confident in my abilities than I felt. “I don’t even know where to begin looking for it.”

  “I do.”

  I blinked. “What? How?”

  “I have my ways.” He lifted our entwined fingers and kissed my hand. “You need me, Boots.”

  More than oxygen some days.

  Seeing an avenue of escape from the topic at hand, I batted my eyelashes at him. “Need you? I don’t know. You’re getting sort of old and worn out. You are almost forty.”

  “Old and worn out, huh?” He tugged me closer, pressing into my inner thighs. My pulse ratcheted as he untied my robe and slid his hands along my ribcage.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” I teased.

  “Until what?” His hands cupped and rubbed, his thumbs circling closer and closer.

  “You tire of me,” I said, sharing one of my fears with him.

  His catty ex had made a habit of warning me time and again that Doc would grow bored of curvy blondes, the same as he had of sexy redheads. As much as I tried to shield myself from her sharp claws, my skin was only so thick, especially around my heart.

  His thumbs stilled. His brow tightened. “Are you serious?”

  “Maybe.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Sort of, yes.”

  He lowered his hands to my hips. “Has Tiffany been hissing in your ear again?”

  “No, not recently anyway. But let’s be serious for a moment about my whole situation.”

  “Okay,” he said cautiously and waited for me to continue.

  I licked my suddenly dry lips. “I live a very messy life.”

  “I like your messy life.”

  “You had a nice, quiet life before I came along.”

  “Quiet? I’ve been dealing with ghosts since childhood, remember?”

  “Besides the ghosts, you like to be in control of your days. Your car has no stains on the seats, the chrome fixtures in your house have no fingerprints, you hit the gym regularly, and you own a growing financial planning business.”

  “That sounds really boring when you put it that way,” he said.

  “Not boring, try nice and stable. I, on the other hand, have been surrounded by drama daily since I had those two kids. Hell, even before they entered this world, I had a knack for stirring up trouble. Ask Natalie.”

  His jaw tensed. “I don’t like the direction this is going.”

  I didn’t either, but we needed to take this trip sooner or later if we were going to keep playing “house” together.

  “Sooner or later …” I paused. “You’re going to experience burnout when it comes to me and then what?”

  “Are you trying to push me away, Violet? Is this what you meant when you told me about sabotaging your previous relationships?”

  “No. This is different.”

  “How? Because you seem determined to find reasons for us to fail.”

  More like afraid. Life had a history of smacking me with a flyswatter when things appeared too good to be true, like the man before me. “Doc, I love you.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted. “Do I hear a but in there?”

  “But I come with all sorts of baggage.”

  “I’ve told you already that I adore your kids. Try again.”

  “I’m not talking about Addy and Layne.”

  “I don’t mind Elvis, even when she leaves eggs in my shoes.”

  “I’m not talking about that damned chicken, either.” I licked my lips, and lowered my focus to his Adam’s apple. “I screwed up back in Slagton today and killed that creature before I’d even realized what I was doing.”

  “Better it than you.”

  “One of these times somebody is going to get hurt. I know you’re the king of the mountain when it comes to dealing with ghosts and other mental medium mindboggling stuff, but today …” I looked up. “Today, I got a taste of what I’m going to be dealing with until my life as an Executioner comes to an end—one way or another.”

  When he didn’t say anything, I added, “They murdered Prudence’s husband along with her son.”

  “I know.”

  “She was an accomplished killer. Earlier, in that woodshed, I was swinging at that creature like a bumbling rookie.”

  “You are learning to rely on your instincts.”

  “I lucked out.”

  “You underestimate yourself, Violet.”

  “Cooper got hurt because I didn’t react fast enough the first time it rushed us.”

  “It’s a minor cut.”

  I sighed. “Doc …”

  He put his finger over my lips, silencing me. “If you’re worried about not being good enough at your job, then do something about it.”

  I pulled his finger away, but didn’t let go of his hand. “Like what? Ask Santa to bring me a superhero cape for Christmas?”

  “Read your family history book or ask Prudence to share some lessons she learned before they caught and killed her.”

  “I can’t show up on Prudence’s doorstep without a tooth.”

  The last time I was up at the Carhart-Britton house in Lead where Prudence held court, I’d promised to bring her a trophy tooth the next time I visited her in exchange for her not extracting any of Detective Hawke’s teeth. The dead Executioner’s fetish for teeth gave me another reason to keep Doc and my friends at arm’s length. How long would it be until I lost touch with reality and began collecting macabre souvenirs from my kills?

  He captured my other hand and squeezed it. “At the least, let me show you a few self-defense moves and teach you how to fight.”

  My chin jutted. “I know how to fight.” If fighting dirty counted, which it did in my rulebook.

  He smirked. “Your windmill swing is a classic, but you need to have an arsenal of moves at your disposal.”

  I looked over at the Christmas lights lining the window. I wanted my old simple life back, dammit. Only I wanted Doc in it, too.

  “You need to stop hiding away in your castle, Killer, stepping outside of its walls only to play defense. If there is going to be some sort of war, like the other Timekeepers told you, then you need to prepare for battle.”

  My gaze snapped back to his. “I’m not hiding in my castle.”

  “What do you call putting that clock in the basement where you can’t keep an eye on it? Mr. Black gave it to you as a means of protection. You’re supposed to keep it where you can watch it and use it to track your enemies’ travels between planes.”

  I covered my ears. “I can’t stand the tick, tick, tick.”

  His dark eyes filled with a compassion that made my throat tight. He pulled my hands down. “Violet,” he started in a husky voice.

  “It’s a constant reminder of what I am now. What I don’t want to be.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t even like to squish spiders, Doc.”

  He cupped my face. “You’re an amazing woman.”

  “But …”

  “There is no but this time. Before you came along, my life was empty. I kept it neat and tidy because I had nothing else to do.”

  “You had the ghosts.”

  “I wa
s alone.”

  “There were women.” One redhead in particular who was currently trying to steal my job.

  “Not many and none like you. I don’t want to go back to that stale and lonely life. You’ve filled my world with color.”

  “You mean chaos.”

  “I mean excitement.” His gaze lowered to my mouth. “And passion.” He ran his finger down my cheek. “Sweetheart, you have people surrounding you who want to help you win this war. Let me help you hunt the lidérc.”

  I snorted. “As if you’d take no for an answer.”

  He threaded his fingers into my curls, his intent clear in his smoldering eyes. “Do you have any idea how nuts I am about you?”

  My heart sighed and fanned itself. “Nuts enough to hunt a Hungarian devil that could strap itself to you while it slowly sucks the life from your body and soul?”

  “When you say it like that, it sounds so sexy,” he whispered. “Kiss me, Boots.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I closed the distance between us, taking my time kissing him, enjoying the taste of beer on his lips. When I stroked my tongue along his, he groaned and dropped his hands to my hips, pulling me against him. I wrapped my legs around his and let him take over the kiss, sliding my hands under his shirt. His skin was hot. His mouth was hotter. I fired up in a flash, burning for a lot more.

  When his lips moved to my ear, I gulped. He wasn’t playing fair. “Okay. Okay.” I gave in. “You can teach me some moves.”

  He pressed against me, his body ready to relocate the show upstairs behind a locked door. “Do you mean in the bedroom or the ring?”

  “Both.”

  His chuckle was short-lived, thanks to Aunt Zoe stomping into the kitchen. She threw her shawl on the table. “That bastard needs to learn a lesson!”

  Before I could get a word out, she tugged off her necklace, breaking the chain and sending glass beads scattering across the table. Curse words flew as she pulled off her earrings and threw them on the floor, crushing the glass and metal under her boot heel.

  I unwrapped my legs from around Doc. “What bastard?” I asked her backside as she marched to the fridge and yanked open the door.

  “What happened?” Doc helped me to the floor, settling me in front of him to shield the evidence of our foreplay.