One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress 6)

Great. I shivered, fighting off the combination of hunger and cold that raising Remnants always brought about. My most lethal, secret weapon couldn't follow Kramer, and I'd neglected to order him to stay put before I unleashed them on him.

"Wait," I told the Remnants. Maybe Kramer would spoof back for another assault. I doubted it, but I could hope he'd be that stupid.

"How's he doing?" I asked Bones, kicking pieces of the desk out of my way to reach the opposite corner of the room.

Bones stood and moved aside, revealing Tyler crouched in a ball on the floor. He clutched his neck, but blood no longer streamed out between his fingers, and his breathing was ragged but unhampered.

"He'll be fine," Bones replied. "Just a bit traumatized."

"I was dead." Tyler's voice was no more than a croak. "I saw a bright light, felt myself floating away-"

"You did nothing of the sort," Bones interrupted. "Your heart didn't stop once though your larynx was crushed, and you were choking on your own blood."

"Oh, God," Tyler moaned.

"Maybe you shouldn't attempt to reassure him," I said dryly, fighting a shiver for a different reason. The Remnants tugged on my emotions, the chill and hunger of the grave permeating my defenses.

Bones cast a glance at the Remnants, his mouth curling down. He'd experienced firsthand what they could do when Marie unleashed them on him in order to blackmail me into drinking her blood. To say it hadn't endeared them to him was putting it mildly, but they couldn't help themselves. They were like supernatural missiles drawn to whatever target they were pointed at-or whatever target was the closest.

"Pity they didn't do the trick."

I lifted my shoulder in an apologetic shrug. "Not their fault. I jumped the gun."

He gave me a level look. "All of us underestimated what Kramer could do, but we won't make that mistake again. At least now, we have confirmation of Elisabeth's claims."

Oh yeah. I'd say Tyler's near-death experience, the wreckage of this office, his injured dog, and my being bulldozed by a desk were all very definitive forms of confirmation.

I sighed, brushing some wood shards off Bones's shirt. "How long do you want to wait here to see if he comes back?"

"Wait here?" That alarmed Tyler into standing. "Hell no, we're not waiting here. We're leaving, and I'm not coming back until that thing is taken care of. Mama didn't raise no damn fool."

"He's not interested in you, Tyler, so there's no reason he'd come back once we're gone-"

"You see that Ouija board?" he interrupted me, pointing at pieces littered among the ruins of the desk. "I didn't get a chance to turn it off before he broke it. That means the gateway's still open, so no way am I gonna work here while a ghost who's obviously pissed that I summoned him has a ticket straight to my door. I'll have my assistant run things for a while. Ghost's got no issue with him."

"Okay, you want us to give you a ride home?" He looked too wound up for me to trust him to drive.

"That's not safe, either. I've opened gateways there before. That ghost could sneak in through one-and I don't have any vampires in my apartment who can heal me if he tries to kill me again."

"So where do you want to go? A friend's house?" Hunger and a bone-deep inner chill sharpened my tone. Only being a vampire kept my teeth from chattering. I couldn't wait to cut my connection with the Remnants by sending them back, so I could feel normal again.

Tyler looked at me, then Bones. And smiled.

"No way," I said, not needing to read his mind to figure out what he intended. "No. Way."

"Forget it, mate," Bones replied sternly. "We have enough unwanted guests already without adding one more."

Tyler's smile vanished, and he sank to the floor as if our rebuffs had sapped his strength.

"I'm sorry, but you can't stay with us," I said, making my voice a lot kinder because Tyler hadn't done anything to warrant my snippiness.

"He's going to find me and kill me," Tyler said again.

I shifted uncomfortably. Maybe it was too dangerous to leave him on his own. Besides, even though he'd dealt with ghosts long before meeting us, we were the reason one had almost put him in the grave just now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dexter limp over, whining even though he also wagged his stubby tail. Tyler pulled him onto his lap, wincing when the dog let out a sharp cry as his injured leg was jostled.

That was all I could take. I turned to Bones, who was already shaking his head with a distantly jaded expression.

"It'll just be until we take care of Kramer, and he did say that he knew some people who might be able to off a ghost . . ." I began.

Tyler's mournful expression vanished as if by magic. He sprang up, still holding the dog.

"Wait right here. It'll just take me a minute to get my and Dexter's things."

Chapter Eight

Several hours later, we pulled into our driveway with two more passengers than we'd left with. Dexter's left hind leg was secured in a cast, and his eyes were distinctly glassy because of the painkillers the vet had administered.

"This is where you live?" Tyler cast a look around at the steep, forested terrain surrounding our Blue Ridge cabin. "I'm amazed I don't hear banjo music."

I ignored the quip, reminding myself that near-death experiences were very traumatic for people who weren't used to them. Besides, it wasn't news to me that our home was in the middle of picturesque nowhere. That had been the intention, so Bones and I would have more privacy. Little did we know that having privacy would prove to be wishful thinking. At least our lack of close neighbors meant Tyler's thoughts were the only ones inside my head aside from my own.

Dexter let out a low whine, picking his head up. "Are you sure it's safe?" Tyler asked. "Dexter's telling me there are ghosts nearby."

Bones let out a sardonic snort as he got out of the car. "Too right."

Tyler had mentioned that he could see ghosts, just not right away. I'd better prepare him for life at Casa Russell. My cat had gotten so used to the ghosts here that he almost never hissed at them anymore.

"There are a lot of ghosts here. All friendly," I hastened to add. "They just, um, like to hang out around our house."

Liar, Tyler thought, his gaze narrowing. Dexter chuffed like he didn't believe me, either. Too bad. Only a select handful of people knew why I was so popular with ghosts, and it wasn't information I was about to share.

"Maybe we built on a former burial ground, and that's why this place is such a hot spot," I improvised as I got out. "You know. Like in Poltergeist."