Double Dating with the Dead (21 page)

“Are you sure you're all right?”

“I'm fine,” he growled.

“You know full moons are associated with insanity. That's where the term lunacy comes from. Lunacy…lunar.”

“Yeah, I get it. I still don't know what that has to do with anything.”

She straightened in her chair. “Well, you don't have to get so testy. I thought you might be interested in knowing more about what you were criticizing.”

“Well, I don't want to know more.”

“Fine. Then consider the matter dropped.”

“You are so bad,” Dixie said when she popped into the room.

Wesley was right behind her. “I thought he deserved it.”

She stirred her coffee, pretending two ghosts hadn't just entered into the conversation. Wait, why should she pretend anything. Why not perpetuate the situation?

“You're so right, Wesley. Everything, plus some.”

Trent glanced around, then returned his gaze to her.

“Wesley and Dixie are here,” she explained.

“The ghosts?”

She nodded and reached for a piece of toast. She took a bite and slowly chewed.

“Why don't you ask them where their bones are? Wouldn't that solve your dilemma?”

“They don't remember everything that happened.”

“How convenient.”

Wesley stretched his legs out on the counter, leaning back on his elbows. “Maybe if you hit him over the head with a frying pan, he'd listen to you. My ma did that to my pa once, and he never gave her a bit of trouble after that.” He frowned. “Course, he wasn't quite right after that day, either. Used to mumble to himself a lot.”

“Maybe the mumbling is an inherited trait,” Dixie said.

“You sure are getting a smart mouth, woman.”

“Why don't you tell them to show themselves to me? That would also clear up a lot of things. Plus, you'd win the challenge.”

“They don't like you.”

“Now, I never said that,” Dixie said.

“You like that city slicker?” Wesley frowned.

“He's not hard on the eyes.” Dixie moved closer. Trent shivered as if a cold breeze brushed over him. “Actually, I think he's rather handsome.”

“Don't that just beat all I ever heard.” Wesley jumped off the cabinet and swiped his arm through the air. The roll of paper towels that was on the island rolled off and thumped softly on the floor before he left in a poof of dark gray.

Trent jumped and turned.

Dixie grinned. “There's nothing like a little jealousy to spice up a relationship.” She vanished in a split second.

“The door must've blown open. Did you feel that cool breeze?”

She came to her feet. “The door didn't come open. Wesley got mad when Dixie said you were cute. He knocked the paper towels off. The cool breeze, as you call it, was from the energy they created.” She stomped out of the room. Cute yes, smart no.

Plan A complete.

Now on to Plan B.

When she got through with him, he'd think twice about messing with an angry psychic.

S
elena had disappeared.

Every little squeak, every little bump, had Trent jumping. Hell, he didn't know if the next corner he went around would be his last. What if Selena was crouched down just waiting to plunge a knife into him?

This was ridiculous. Selena was not a lunatic.

He slipped outside, thankful for the cool breeze as the evening waned and nightfall descended around him. But just to be on the safe side, he did a cursory look in his immediate vicinity.

No knife-wielding anything, only a foraging squirrel beneath one of the trees. He soundly scolded Trent for disturbing his meal-hunting expedition, then scurried off.

Trent stepped closer to the edge of the porch and looked up at the sky. The moon was exactly as Selena had said. Even as he stared at it he could almost see blood dripping from the deep orange orb.

“That's a Hunter's Moon…Blood Moon,” Matilda said.

His heart pounded inside his chest. Damn, he was jumpy as a downed electrical wire. He drew in a deep breath. “Yeah, I've already been told that once today.”

Matilda nodded. “Strange things happen when there's a full moon, but you got to watch yourself when it's a Blood Moon.” She cast her gaze around as if a ghost might pounce on her at any second.

“I don't think you need to be too worried.” Damn, had Selena been filling this sweet old woman's head with stories meant to spook her? Selena could cause Matilda to have a heart attack if she wasn't careful.

Matilda shook her head. “Tonight's a night that a person should tread careful-like 'less they get in over their head.”

She wiped her hands on her flowery apron, her eyes narrowing as she looked around.

“Mark my words, things will happen tonight. There's a powerful wind in the air. Don't know if it's evil or good, but you and the girl best be watchful of the night.”

He started to gently explain that he didn't believe in what he couldn't see with his own eyes, but a horn honked down the street, drawing his attention. When he turned back, Matilda was gone.

“For an old woman she sure can move fast,” he muttered and turned to go back inside.

Quiet surrounded him, chilling him to the bone. Was Selena upstairs? More than likely she was in her room curled on her bed with one of her books. Either that or plotting a way to kill him.

He sat down in the nearest chair, crossing his arms in front of him. Something was going on. But what? The more he thought about it, the more he knew Selena was playing him for a fool. But why would she try to convince him that she was crazy? He hadn't done a thing to her. At least, nothing new.

He'd probably been staring at the black notebook for a good two minutes before he realized it was
his
black notebook in the middle of a stack of books.

It came to him in a flash. Writing in his book, then Tye wanting him to look around outside for those stupid bones. He'd slid the notebook between the books.

She wouldn't stoop so low as to read what he'd written. Would she? He opened the book, could almost smell her perfume wafting up to him. There was a smudge on a page—no big deal. A fold on another that shouldn't be there. A corner where she might have unknowingly worried it with her fingernail.

He closed the book. It had all been an act to scare the crap out of him because she was pissed. It had worked. She had given him more than a twinge of uneasiness.

But now he had a problem. His gaze moved to the staircase. She wouldn't believe that he wasn't going to write the exposé. Why would she? She'd read his notes. Hell, his musings, his observations, all of it condemned him.

He closed the book, setting it down, thinking about their time together. His gut told him that she wasn't conning the public. He'd bet his life on it. He couldn't say for sure how he knew, but he knew. Maybe her head wasn't screwed on perfectly straight, but he kind of liked it that way.

Somehow, someway, they would work everything out. Including this stupid challenge. He came to his feet and went in search of her.

Not upstairs.

When had she slipped past him? He traipsed back down the stairs.

Not in the kitchen, either.

He went back to the foyer. Where else could she be? What if she was lying hurt somewhere? The hotel was old. Anything could've happened. A faulty step giving away, a loose board.

The blood in his veins ran cold.

He strode toward the other side of the hotel.

“Selena!”

“You're seeking me out?”

Her sultry voice floated to him from the library. Even as relief washed over him, so did desire. She had a soft Southern drawl, but it didn't make him think of church socials. No, it made him think of things that would make a hooker blush.

And as soon as they had their little talk, he planned to make Selena's body blush—every inch of it. Just the thought started an ache deep inside him.

He walked into the dark room, but came to an abrupt halt.

What the hell is she doing now?

A heavy odor clung to the air. He sniffed. Grape incense? He'd never cared for incense, and this scent didn't change his mind.

The candles were lit again, too, only four so the light was dim at best. Selena wore a long flowing gown in wild colors and some kind of turban on her head that was slightly askew. Every time she moved her hands the bangles on her wrists jingled and the rings on her fingers flashed.

She was up to something, but only one thought ran through his mind: was she wearing anything under the robes?

The silky material would caress her skin just the way
he
wanted to. Damned if he wasn't jealous of a piece of material.

“Listen, Selena, we have to talk.”

“Sit.” She waved her hand toward a card table that had been set up.

“I know why you're doing this…”

“Sit.” She floated over to the table and gracefully sat in one of the chairs, then looked at him expectantly.

Fine, he'd humor her. Then they would have a talk, and after that they'd have sex. He took a seat across from her. “What exactly are we doing?”

Selena cast a quick glance in his direction. Trent didn't look a bit worried. Amused maybe, but not worried. He didn't know what was about to happen, either. Revenge could be sweet.

He suddenly looked at her and their gazes locked. A flash of heat swept over her. For a moment she couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't remember what she was doing.

So not fair!

With a supreme effort, she forced herself to look away and returned her attention to the glitter she was sprinkling on the table. Why did he have to look so good when she was about to scare the hell out of him? He wanted proof? Okay, she'd show him a ghost!

Sure, she knew Dixie and Wesley wouldn't cooperate. She didn't really care. She was out for revenge.

“We're having a séance,” she told him.

“A séance?”

“To call the ghosts so that you will believe,” she droned much like her mother did when she was trying for a certain effect.

Wesley looked at Dixie. “We're already here,” he whispered. “Can't she see us?”

Selena glared at Wesley, who sat on top of a stack of books.

“Of course she can see us,” Dixie explained with a smile. “She's just really mad at Trent.”

“I hope they don't get shot like we did.”

Dixie rolled her eyes. “And just who would shoot them?”

“They might not get shot, but I'd bet my bottom dollar nothing good is goin' to come from all this.”

“You never had a dollar to your name, cowboy.”

His slow grin had Dixie glowing bright blue. “That's because I spent it on a pretty little gal who worked in a saloon.”

“Silence,” Selena commanded.

“I didn't say anything,” Trent told her.

Damned ghosts. For them not wanting to communicate with Trent, they sure talked a lot. She was frowning when she looked across the table, but her irritation disappeared when she saw the way Trent looked at her—as if he wanted to devour her.

Stay strong!

Deep breath. Gio. No, not Gio.

Oh, Lord, his gaze moved to her breasts. Good thing she was wearing a bra, because her nipples were really hard right now.

“Did they freeze?” Wesley asked. “Saw a frozen rabbit once looked kind of like they do right now.”

Selena snapped out of her daze. Revenge. She had to remember why she was here.

“I was just telling you that we'll need complete silence if I'm to prove ghosts exist.” She only hoped Paige's mirrors, lights and flashing pictures worked. It wasn't anything elaborate, and Paige was hidden in a corner with all the controls. She'd sneaked everything in earlier, and they'd quickly set all of it up, praying the whole time Trent wouldn't decide to come into the library.

She would soon see his reaction. Show time!

“Spirits from beyond, I call you forth,” she intoned.

Dixie chuckled. “This is better than that traveling show them actors put on. Remember that?”

“Yeah, and afterward, too, when I slipped into your bed and under your covers.”

Great. Not only did she have two ghosts talking, but now they were talking about sex. The stupid grape incense didn't help. It only made her hungry for a fruit salad. She'd asked Paige why she couldn't have brought a more intense incense, but she'd only shrugged and told Selena she'd been trying to hurry.

But grape? Yuck. The air had shifted, and the grape scent blocked the more sensuous smell of Trent's Gio.

But maybe that was a good thing?

She closed her eyes and began to sway. “Show us a sign,” she droned. When she peeked from one eye she saw the corners of Trent's mouth twitching right before he straightened in his chair and his expression turned serious.

Laugh at me, will you?

“Show us a sign,” she repeated, then inhaled and almost choked. Apparently, Paige had sprayed the musty perfume that she'd concocted for Halloween night at the school, but she'd sprayed it a little too many times. It was really gross mixed with the grape incense.

“What is that—” Trent began.

“They're here,” she interrupted, her voice low. If she wasn't so pissed at him, this might be fun. “It's the smell of death.”

“Excuse me,” Dixie began, planting her hands on her hips. “I don't think I smell that bad.”

“Of course you don't, darlin'.”

God help me
, Selena thought to herself.

“Spirits of the hotel, why do you haunt us?”

“Technically, they haven't been haunting me,” Trent supplied.

She glared at him, wanting to wipe that smirk off his face. And she would. She'd give him a con like he'd never seen.

“Can you feel them?” she asked.

“No.”

“Be very still.” Okay, what was Paige doing? The mists should've appeared by now. What was she supposed to do now? Dance on the table? Oh, yeah, Trent would probably like that.
Come on, Paige, don't fail me now.

In the corner, a green cloud began to form. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“There,” she said, raising a hand and pointing.

He turned slightly in his chair, stilled.

“The hotel is haunted!” Dixie screamed and flew closer to Wesley.

He chuckled. “By us, darlin', by us. Remember Doc Wells and his magic tricks? It's the same thing. Selena's just foolin' Trent. She's pretty good, too.”

“I don't think it's a bit funny.” Dixie pouted. “She scared me.”

“That's okay. I like you scared.” For a second their spirits blended.

“Oh, Wesley,” Dixie sighed.

“Oh, brother,” Selena muttered, then quickly covered her words with a cough when Trent looked at her.

“Is that your ghost?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow, nodding toward the cloud.

There was a loud rumble.

She jumped. Then it dawned on her what it was. Cool. Paige had brought sound effects.

“Did I upset your ghost?” Trent folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the back of his chair.

Dixie frowned. “He's starting to make me angry.”

Good, Selena thought, that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted them angry enough to reveal themselves to Trent. She only hoped her Plan B worked. If it didn't, there was always Plan C.

She began to sway again. “Show yourselves to the unbeliever,” she crooned.

“I'll never believe, Selena,” Trent quietly told her, reaching across the table and taking her hand in his.

For just a second, she let his warmth envelop her. Then she pulled her hand away. It wouldn't do to get caught up in the moment. She had to make him see the truth. Even if she scared the hell out of him.

The thunder sounded again.

“That's not convincing me,” he said in a loud voice. “Whoever is helping Selena might as well stop. Ghosts do not exist.”

“Are you sure?” Dixie perched on the desk close to Trent.

He jumped.

Finally! Selena barely stopped herself from clapping her hands.

Trent looked at Selena. “You're really good.”

“That's Dixie,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Sure.” He stood and strode to the light switch.

She blinked several times when he hit the switch and light flooded the room. When she could focus, she quickly looked around. Dixie was gone.

No! No! No!

Trent strode to the desk and peered over it. “Hello, Paige.”

Paige stood. “Hi, Trent. Seen any ghosts lately?”

“No, and I don't plan on seeing any.”

“Dixie was real!” Selena stomped her foot.

“I wasn't born yesterday.”

“I only concocted this so Dixie or Wesley would get mad at you and appear…and Dixie did show herself.” And yes, revenge, but she wouldn't mention that little detail.