Touch of Gray 4 - Runaway Moon, Rebel Dakota [little red riding hood ebook txt] 📗

lowering the gun. “I’ve had run-ins with them. They weren’t pleasant.”

“I know,” she said. “They’ve told me. Or their spirits have.”

“What do you mean?” I took a step forward, and she froze, eyes on the shotgun, but I was careful to keep it at my side.

“I meditate, and sometimes, souls—or ghosts if you prefer—will find me. I’m powerful enough to draw their attention. They come to me, and we talk. They share stories, and I tell them of life here. And then they go. But tonight, I think they’ve been drawn here, too. The moon is a powerful force that brings all dark things together.”

“You’re telling me,” I said, through clenched teeth, “that there are ghosts out there who used to be witches? Out in the woods with my family?”

“Cole, they’re specters. They can’t hurt anything.”

“Jesus, Pops, haven’t you taught her anything?” I brought the gun up to rest the short barrel on my shoulder.

“I didn’t know she was communicating with the dead,” he said, his tone hard. “Come on, woman. Let’s get some salt and have a talk.”

“I’ll be out there,” I called after them. “If you see Bryce…”

“Yeah, I’ll tell him.” Pops took Cadence by the elbow and led her into the house.

“Shit,” I muttered as I headed out into the forest. I didn’t need this right now. Or hell, maybe, I did. A good old-fashioned ghost hunt might be just the thing to get my head back together.

The cats were still to the east, as far as I knew, so if I could draw the specters west, I could keep our clan and the others safe. I’d have to take care of it quick. If Bryce and Sebastian got wind of the fact there were witches out here, even dead ones, they’d come running in a heartbeat.

I walked toward the water, remembering what my brother had said about the witches harnessing power from the lake. No, not my brother. Not really. Though ghosts generally didn’t like to be around running water at all, maybe being witches would be enough to make them risk it.

Bryce and I used to love to swim in Lake Superior when we were kids.

To be honest, I had no idea which preternatural powers would take precedence with these particular nasties. If they really were former Sisters of the White, they’d been damn powerful in life.

Bryce is so strong. How long has he been hiding his feelings for me?

It would stand to reason they’d remain so in specter form.

I’ve felt dead and powerless without him the last couple months—

Christ, I had to stop this and focus. My mind had been wandering so badly it took a while for me to realize it was suddenly freezing and the hair on my arms was standing up.

Shit.

The blood-red moon came into full view, reflecting in the still water of the lake as I exited the tree line and hit the beach. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and I saw faint white lights blinking in and out of focus about a hundred yards down the coast. Ghosts.

They appeared to sway in a circle, not fully formed into human shapes, just shimmering blobs. I checked the ammo in my shotgun and walked slowly toward them. So far, they hadn’t noticed me. With luck, I’d get close enough to spray them with the rock salt rounds I’d loaded. The spirits would reform, but I had plenty of ammunition, both salt and iron. It would at least weaken them.

“Cole Grayson.” A woman’s voice sounded behind me.

I spun around, bringing up the gun and firing at the first flash of white from the corner of my eye. The specter dodged the shot, her lilting laugh causing gooseflesh to break out over my skin.

“Morgana,” I said conversationally as if I hadn’t just shot at her. “I suppose I should have known it would be you.”

“Yes, I suppose you should have,” she agreed. Her body formed as if pulling mist together into a corporeal female shape. Even in death, she was beautiful. More so, actually, than the last time I’d seen her. Of course, on that occasion, she’d been trying to kill us and had gotten her throat ripped out for her trouble. “You didn’t think something as inconsequential as mortal death would keep me from you, did you?”

“Well, I can’t say I haven’t hoped,” I admitted. “What are you doing here?”

“Look at you, acting all civilized. What a nice change. To answer your question, I knew you’d come,” she said, with a delicate shrug of one shoulder. “You stole my great prize, my true shot at immortality. Now, I’ve come to take what’s most important to you.”

“You will not touch them,” I growled, raising the gun and firing again. This time my aim was true, and the rock salt blasted through her.

With a primal scream, she blew apart, the breeze that had sprung up making her disperse in white, phosphorus wisps. I turned, loading more rounds into the barrel as I did. As expected, I was met with a blaze of angry poltergeists charging me. I fired into them, blasting a few of them but needing to reload too often to be effective against so many.

Roars split the night as a leap of panthers broke through the tree line and rushed the beach, snapping and snarling at the specters. Desperately, I looked around for Bryce and Bastian, but in the sea of black fur, there was no way for me to discern who was who.

I couldn’t be sure if the panthers’ attacks would do anything but piss off the ghosts, but if they were willing to try holding them back, I wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“I will eat their souls, exterminator,” a voice whispered on the wind. “You belong to me, Cole.”

“He is ours!” Bryce cried out from the center of the pack. His large frame became visible once he pushed past the other panthers. “You should have stayed gone, bitch.”

I looked around for Morgana, but I couldn’t see her