One Grave at a Time

brace it against a knee and scroll down through the pages without dislodging Dexter from his perch. Great, a crazy couple, ran through Tyler’s mind as he read some of the text. They actually think they’ve got the ghost of an infamous witch hunter haunting their house!

Bones leaned forward, his smile showing the tips of his fangs. “We’re not crazy, and this sod isn’t haunting our anything.”

Tyler’s head whipped up, his expression changing as he spotted the new pointy canines in Bones’s teeth and realized he hadn’t said that last sentence out loud.

“Oh,” he said at last. “Sorry. My friends didn’t mention certain . . . details about you, and you wouldn’t believe how nutty some people are. Just last week, I had a woman convinced her trailer was haunted by Tupac, as if he’d want to spend eternity in a double wide that smelled like cat piss.”

That made my lips twitch, but Bones stayed on topic. “Now that we’ve cleared up the issue of our sanity, let’s move on to our query.”

Tyler gently shooed Dexter from his lap with a “Daddy’s got to work” explanation that nevertheless drew a whine before Dexter went under the desk again. A loud exhalation, like a sigh, preceded the sound of the dog’s plopping down on something soft. Spoiled rotten, I noted in amusement, but that only raised my opinion of Tyler. Kindness toward the voiceless or the vulnerable, like animals and children, usually denoted good character in a person.

“How do you know you’re dealing with the shade of Heinrich Kramer and that he’s able to kill people?” Tyler asked, all business now.

“Ghostly informant,” Bones replied.

Tyler nodded as if that response wasn’t unusual. “Is that the only confirmation? Ghosts lie sometimes.”

The glance Bones cast my way said he’d considered this possibility. “All we have is the ghost’s word.”

Tyler gave both of us an unblinking look. “I can’t kill a ghost, but I know some people who might be able to. Before I give you their names and put in a good word for you, I need to make sure I’m not setting up an innocent person.”

I doubted that Elisabeth had made all this up, but I’d been lied to convincingly before. Just because she seemed nice and Fabian had a crush on her didn’t mean we should blindly trust a virtual stranger when we had the chance to confirm the facts for ourselves. I exchanged a long, wordless look with Bones. We could green-eye the information out of Tyler, but from the brush of his emotions, Bones also wanted further corroboration on the identity of the ghost Elisabeth had sent us after.

“If you have a way to make sure that what we’ve been told is true, do it,” I told him.

Tyler stood, brushing Dexter’s hair from his pants. “All right,” he said, his tone chipper once more. “Time to talk to the dead.”

Six

I stared at the cardboard box Tyler returned with.

“A Ouija board? That’s how you intend to prove we’re dealing with a murderous Heinrich Kramer instead of Casper the Friendly Ghost?”

If this was his method of identity verification, five bucks said Tyler’s idea to dispatch Kramer would involve playing “light as a feather, stiff as a board.” Or calling forth Bloody Mary from a mirror to send her after the witch hunter.

“When used properly, Ouija boards open doors to the other side,” Tyler replied, setting the box on his desk. “All we have to do is knock on the right one.”

He began to clear things off to make room, humming the whole time. I looked at Bones, surprised he hadn’t offered an instant objection to this tactic, but all he did was tap his chin thoughtfully.

“Spade said his demonologist mates spoke highly of Tyler, so we’ll trust that he knows what tools to work with.”

Or Spade is just paying us back for exposing Denise to what he considered “dangerous circumstances” recently, I added, but didn’t say out loud. Might as well see where this led us, though a session with a Ouija board in a flower shop was hardly the way I imagined we’d summon a potentially evil spirit. Holding a séance in a graveyard at midnight with some ancient relics seemed far more appropriate.

Tyler had the board opened up on the desk, its symbols looking more hokey than supernatural, heart-shaped planchette pushed to the side. Then he disappeared into the main part of the shop before returning with some fragrant potted plants and a box of matches.

“All right, ready,” Tyler declared, giving us both an appraising glance. “Bones is a vampire, and I’m guessing you are, too, but who’s more powerful?”

“She is,” Bones replied at once.

I was about to argue since Bones was a damn sight stronger and faster than me, plus had centuries more fighting experience; but with a start, I realized he was right. With Marie Laveau’s control over the grave still residing in my body, I was more powerful than even most Masters.

Until that borrowed power wore off, anyway.

I cleared my throat, feeling a stab of uneasiness as I realized for the first time in our relationship, I ranked higher than Bones ability-wise—and he knew it.

“Are you okay with that?” I blurted, forgetting for a moment that we had an audience. Bones had never been the insecure type, but an abrupt shift in a couple’s dynamic had caused rifts in lots of relationships before ours.

His amusement wafted through my emotions even before he started to grin. “The last thing you need to fret about is my feeling emasculated, Kitten; but talk is cheap, so I’ll be sure to show you later.”

His voice was rich with so many undercurrents, I grew warmer just listening to him. Then Bones’s expression became serious, and he leaned forward to brush my hand.

“I’ve watched you barely escape death several times, and each instance killed me a little inside. They may be dormant now, but we have enemies both cunning and cruel. Knowing you possess the power to defeat most of them doesn’t threaten me, luv. It relieves me to my very core.”

Bones also knew that power wasn’t permanent, but as he’d pointed out in the car, the present was what mattered. For the present, I had these abilities. For the present, things were good. That was what I’d dwell on.

“So honest and sure of yourself.” Tyler licked his lips. “You get sexier by the minute, sugar.”

“Ahem.” I pulled my gaze away from Bones to give Tyler a pointed look. “Mine, remember?”

Tyler waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah.” But I’m having GOOD dreams tonight, he mentally finished.

I rolled my eyes. Bones just snorted. “Can’t sleep until you finish with us here, Sandman, so let’s get on with it.”

Tyler scooted his chair closer to the edge of the desk, the Ouija board between me and him.

“Put your fingertips on the planchette, Cat,” he instructed.

I copied the placement of his fingers on the small device, noting that my nails could use some attention, but a manicure had been way low on my list of priorities. Even though I didn’t exert any pressure, the planchette jerked beneath my light touch, causing Tyler to cock his brow.

“Lots of juice in you, hmm?” he noted.

I wasn’t about to explain the reason behind it, so I just shrugged. Tyler started to recite a series of invitations to any spirits who were nearby. Crackling energy filled the air as the planchette began to edge around the board in irregular circles, powered by something other than our touch. Bones sat back, watching us with a hooded expression, his gaze flickering between the board and the rest of the room.

A drawn-out, keening noise made me jump before I realized that it came from the canine underneath the desk. You’d think since I lived with a ghost and had dozens more camped around my house, engaging in a séance wouldn’t rattle me, but it did. Maybe because it felt like I was trespassing somewhere that I didn’t