One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress #6)(8)

Bones didn’t appear impressed by the new ghost’s lovely visage. He continued to give Fabian a quelling look, dark brow arched in challenge. Fabian knew that only he and my uncle were allowed to float inside our home. We’d had to set some ground rules to protect our privacy, after all. Otherwise, we’d have ghosts trailing us from room to room, even following Bones and me into the shower or running a stream of commentary about our bedroom activities. That whole traveling through walls thing made most ghosts forget about what was appropriate and inappropriate behavior.

“I can explain,” Fabian began, throwing me a beseeching look over Bones’s shoulder.

“Allow me,” the female ghost replied in an accent that might have been German. “First, let me introduce myself. My name is Elisabeth.”

She dipped into a curtsy, first to Bones, then to me as she spoke, her voice even despite her obvious unease.

Some of the tightness left Bones’s shoulders as he bowed in return while extending his leg in a manner that had gone out of style centuries before I was born.

“Bones,” he replied, straightening. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

I hid a smile. Bones might be able to snub Madigan’s extended hand without a second thought, but he’d always had a soft spot for women. I settled for giving Elisabeth a smile and a welcoming nod while I told her my name. Hey, curtsying wasn’t something I’d ever done before, but I’d learn just to see Bones do that courtly bow again. He somehow managed to make even the formal gesture look sexy.

“Fabian did not think it wise to reveal my presence to the others,” Elisabeth went on, yanking my attention away from my musings. “That is why he bade me to wait inside for your return.”

She spoke mainly to me though her gaze flicked to Bones more than once in mild consternation. Guess word had traveled that Bones was less than thrilled with my new popularity among the living-impaired.

“Why is it a big deal if the others know you’re here?” I wondered out loud. Sure, some of the ghosts might grumble about Elisabeth’s being inside when they’d been given strict orders not to breach the house’s walls, but it wasn’t every day that Fabian enticed a hot babe to come home with him—

“I am considered an outcast by many of my kind.” The words were whispered so low, I almost wasn’t sure I heard her.

“An outcast?” I repeated. I hadn’t even known ghosts had outcasts. Jeez, looked like no group could totally get along no matter what side of the dirt they were on. “Why?”

Elisabeth squared her shoulders as she met my gaze. “Because I am trying to kill another ghost.”

Both my brows went up while a dozen questions sprang into my mind. Bones let out a low whistle before turning to give me a slight, jaded smile.

“Might as well be comfortable to hear the rest of this, so why don’t we have a seat?”

Fabian nodded toward the curtained windows. “Perhaps you could arrange for more privacy first, Cat?”

Right. The other ghosts might not be able to see our new, enigmatic visitor, but if they floated too close to the house, they might accidentally overhear the rest of our conversation with Elisabeth. I sighed.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Once I’d politely insisted that all transparent persons vacate the premises for the next hour, I returned to the family room. Bones sat on the couch, a half-empty whiskey glass in his hand. Vampires were one of the few who could honestly claim to drink for the taste since alcohol had zero effect on us.

Fabian and Elisabeth hovered in sitting positions above the couch opposite Bones. I sat next to my husband, tucking up my legs more for warmth than comfort. Predawn in the early fall at these altitudes meant chillier temperatures. If I hadn’t hoped to be in bed soon, I would’ve started a fire. Luckily for me, my cat, Helsing, took my seated position as a cue to jump from his window perch onto the couch next to me. His furry body was like a mini furnace as he settled himself across my legs.

“So,” I said, drawing the word out while I gave Helsing a few scratches around his ears, “how do you two know each other?”

“We met in New Orleans several decades ago,” Elisabeth murmured.

“June, 1935,” Fabian supplied before giving one of his sideburns a self-conscious rub. “I remember because it was, ah, unusually hot that year.”

I almost bit the sides of my cheeks to keep from laughing. Fabian had a crush on the lovely ghost! His lame explanation for remembering the exact month and year they had met when ghosts didn’t even feel temperatures was topped only by the cow-eyed look he darted her way before schooling his features to faux blandness.

Yep, he had it bad, all right.

“Okay, you two have been friends for a while, but you’re not here just for a social visit, so what brings you, Elisabeth?”

I assumed it had something to do with the ghost she wanted to kill, but if so, she’d be shit out of luck. For one, I wasn’t a contract killer of any species, and Bones had long since retired from that business himself. For another, I couldn’t even help my uncle willingly find a way to the other side. So offing a phantom was way outside my abilities even if I did have a sudden urge to go ghostbusting, which I didn’t.

She folded her hands in her lap, fingers twisting together. “Back in 1489, at the age of twenty-seven, I was burned at the stake for witchcraft,” she began softly.