One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress 6)

Lying her pasty white ass off, Tyler thought, but smiled blandly. "Could be, sugar."

I debated telling Tyler that Bones wasn't the only one who could read minds, but decided not to. For all that we'd brought Tyler home with us, we still didn't know him. Getting a peek into his thoughts would go miles toward determining if he was someone we could trust. I didn't perceive him as a threat, but we still had to be careful. We'd already taken a risk by showing him where we lived, but that information could be erased from his memory if need be.

Who was I kidding? With how vigilant Bones was about my safety, he would probably insist on doing that regardless of how trustworthy Tyler proved to be.

"Go on inside, I'll be there in a minute," I said, heaving a mental sigh as I spread out my hands and waited for the barrage of transparent greeters. I still felt off kilter from summoning the Remnants, but it wouldn't be fair to march into the house without saying hello in the manner that my ghostly acquaintances preferred.

Tyler gave me a strange look but hefted Dexter and went into the house. Five minutes later, my hands tingling, I did as well. Bones wasn't in sight, but I could hear him upstairs on the phone with Spade, and his tone was less than pleased. That's right, honey, give him hell, I thought wryly.

I found Tyler in the kitchen, checking out my refrigerator's contents with dismay.

"I know you're both vampires, but a few packets of cheese and some tonic water can't be all you have."

"I'll go shopping tomorrow, but you'll have to make do with some canned soups and crackers from the pantry in the meantime." It was not like we'd been expecting company, and I didn't feel like driving forty minutes to get to the grocery store tonight. It would probably close before I arrived, anyway.

Fabian floated up to me, leaning down near my ear.

"I don't know if I like this man," he whispered. "He made a comment questioning your decorating skills upon entering, and now he disparages your hospitality. He won't be staying long, will he?"

"If we're lucky, no," I replied. Tyler's staying a long time would mean we'd failed to stop Kramer, not to mention wreaking havoc on my patience. Neither option was acceptable to me.

Fabian frowned. "Are you well, Cat? You look tired."

"I'll be fine after a shower." A lingering chill still clung to me, and the thought of banishing that under a steady stream of hot water sounded heavenly.

My cat chose that moment to come sauntering down the stairs but stopped short when he spotted Dexter. The dog spotted him, too. He got to his feet-the three that worked, that is-and wagged his tail while emitting a friendly-sounding chuff.

Helsing hissed, his dark hair fluffing out to stand on end. That hiss turned into a garbled, extended growl, with a distinctly threatening undertone while his ears went flat.

"No, no. Be a nice kitty!" I ordered. Poor Dexter had stopped cold and cringed even though he outweighed my cat by about thirty pounds.

Helsing's growl ended with a final hiss before he turned to give me a look that could best be summed up as A dog? How could you? Then he ran back up the stairs, tail twitching in agitation the whole way.

Okay, so no one was thrilled about our new guests, but it was only temporary.

"Ohhhh," Tyler drew out, staring to my right. "You've got a ghost floating next to you."

"You can see me?" Fabian asked in surprise.

I left the kitchen to start closing the drapes. "Tyler, meet my friend, Fabian. Fabian, this is Tyler, the medium we went to see today. Things didn't go as planned, but we'll get into that after I take a shower . . . and pet my cat until he forgives me."

After a blissfully long, hot shower-and some groveling to my cat that I doubted Helsing understood-I came downstairs to find Tyler on the couch, wearing nothing but my favorite blue robe.

"My clothes are in the wash, and it was this or a towel," he said with a shrug.

Of course Tyler would want to change out of his bloody outfit. I should've thought to offer him some of Bones's clothes. "Sorry, I'll get you something else to wear."

His casual wave stopped me from heading back upstairs. "This is fine for now."

Fabian buzzed over to me, almost twitching in anxiety. "It is unseemly that he wears your robe, Cat!"

I bit back a laugh at the ghost's scandalized tone. Nineteenth-century formalities must be hard to shake even after death.

Tyler shot Fabian a patient look. "Keep your panties on, ghostfriend, it's only temporary."

Fabian threw up his hands. "You see? He is incorrigible!"

"We'll get him some proper clothes straightaway," Bones reassured Fabian as he descended the stairs.

"Elisabeth, the man in the robe is Tyler," I introduced when I saw Tyler's gaze fasten on her, finally noticing her after a few minutes. "Tyler, meet Elisabeth, but don't mention her to any ghosts aside from Fabian. She's kind of hiding out here."

Tyler smiled. "Charmed to meet another refugee like me."

Elisabeth looked a little confused, but she curtsied, reminding me that I wanted to learn how to do that as gracefully as she.

"Tyler's hiding from Kramer, too," I said in explanation.

"Oh." Her face pinched with compassion. "You poor man."

"Finally, some genuine sympathy." He patted the spot next to him. "Sit here, sweetie, and tell me all about yourself."

"Um, you and Elisabeth can chat later. You mentioned people who might be able to help with Kramer. Do you mean another medium?" I prodded him.

"You are hell and gone from anything a medium can do. Good mediums can open gateways, summon and commune with spirits, clean a house of presences, and sometimes help a ghost cross to the other side. What you've got is a nasty, free-range phantom that can poltergeist like nothing I've ever seen."

"We told you that," Bones pointed out.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Believe me, I wish I'd listened, but that's what most people say. I had no idea you'd be the only ones telling it like it was, and you weren't sure yourselves, either. No medium can help you, but maybe the best damn ghost hunters money can buy will be able to."

"Yeah, well, I hear Bill Murray and the gang don't do that anymore," I countered in growing frustration.

He waved a hand. "Not the Hollywood version. The real ones, and lucky for you, I happen to know some."

"Give us their names and how to contact them," Bones directed.

Tyler's look grew pointed. "I'll set up a meeting and go with you. Otherwise, just like me, they won't believe how powerful that ghost is until it's too late, and you might not be fast enough to save all of them."