One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress #6)(26)

“Makes me wonder how he found us now,” Bones said, his brows drawing together.

I shrugged. “Ohio’s a haven for the supernatural, and we’ve been traipsing back and forth in public for over a week. Maybe one of Kramer’s ghost buddies saw us and tipped him off. Maybe he happened to be in the area because he was drawn here like countless other ghosts.”

“Or perhaps Kramer followed Elisabeth here after one of her failed tailing attempts,” Bones said darkly.

That was also a possibility, and I’d be sure to tell the ghost to be extra careful in the future.

“Just what we need,” I muttered, as a flustered hotel employee appeared in our doorway. Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips as he took in Tyler, still holding the smoking trash can, and Bones and me ignoring the water spraying down on us.

“Small mishap concerning a dropped cigarette in the trash, but it’s all sorted out now,” Bones stated while flashing an emerald glare at the employee. “Go back and tell them to shut off the alarm and sprinklers.”

The employee turned around without another word. I waited until he was out of sight before speaking again.

“We need to check on Chris and the others. What if I wasn’t the first person Kramer attacked?”

Bones nodded, muttering, “Stay here,” to Tyler.

“No, he needs to come, too.” It was safer to be in a group in case Kramer lurked nearby, waiting to pick off any stragglers. “Besides, he might have more of whatever it is that scared Kramer off.”

“It’s sage,” Tyler replied, squaring his shoulders. “Would’ve used it on Kramer that day at my shop, but I was too busy almost dying. I have more of it in my room. Besides, I’m not going anywhere without Dexter.”

I dropped to my knees beside the bed, Helsing’s rapid heartbeat letting me know where he was. Smart feline had run for cover once the porcelain started flying. How I’d fight a ghost while clutching a panicked cat was anyone’s guess, but I, too, wasn’t going to risk leaving him alone in the room if Kramer came back looking for round two.

“Come on, kitty,” I murmured. “We’re outta here.”

I dropped my suitcase inside the small bedroom that had been mine from birth to age twenty-two. A fine layer of dust covered the windowsills and furniture, but I didn’t have time to start cleaning. First things first, and that was prepping the house for way more guests than there was room for.

“Set up the EMF meters in the kitchen and family room,” I heard Chris direct. “Then I want infrared and RK2s in place in the other rooms. Nothing spectral comes through these walls without our knowing it, people.”

“You do that. I’m sticking close to Dexter. He’ll know if a ghost is coming before any of your machines do,” Tyler muttered, coming up the stairs.

Given the dog’s track record, I tended to agree. Even Helsing had proven that he could sense Kramer’s approach, but if the equipment Chris set up could provide an additional warning, who was I to scorn helpful technology? Dexter and Helsing had to sleep sometimes.

The good news was no one else had been visited by Kramer at the hotel. The bad news was that it wouldn’t take Kramer long to correct that oversight if we stayed, so we’d needed a new place that was still within reasonable driving distance of the cave. Plus, the fewer innocent bystanders near us, the better if Kramer did find us again. He hadn’t proven to be considerate of others.

That made my former childhood home our best option for the next few days until the trap was completed. My mother had sold it after my grandparents died and we relocated with my new secret government job, but I’d bought it back after a nice couple had been murdered here by vampires trying to draw me out. Since then, most people thought the place was empty. Normally, it was. I kept the electric and water on, since Bones and I occasionally stayed here when we visited Ohio. The orchard surrounding this house hadn’t been harvested in years. My frugal grandfather must be turning over in his grave at the waste of so many perfectly good cherry trees. Still, the acres of overgrown orchard acted as a natural privacy barrier, hiding any lights or activity in the house from our closest neighbors.

Bones came into the bedroom, lining the windows and furniture tops with a heavy layer of minced garlic and marijuana. The former had been procured after a quick stop at an all-night grocery store, but the latter required green-eyeing a local drug dealer into giving up his entire stock. I wish I could say it had been hard to find someone peddling weed in my hometown, but it had only taken a few minutes driving through a derelict neighborhood to detect the distinctive smell and follow it to its source.

Now I could add robbing a drug dealer to my list of crimes, but what was I supposed to do? Reimburse him? That somehow seemed equally wrong, not to mention going against the “crime doesn’t pay” message, but I had to admit I still felt guilty stealing the weed even though what I was doing with it was arguably more noble. Burning sage might work as a sort of supernatural flamethrower against Kramer, but the real goal was to not let him find us again. Not until we had that trap ready, anyway.

I pulled some extra blankets out of the closet and handed them to Tyler, who came in as Bones was leaving to spread more of the stinky mixture around the house.

“Pass these out downstairs,” I told Tyler. “I’ll get more from the other room.”