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Allegra Fairweather: Paranormal Investigator Page 6
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“Perhaps,” said Casper, “he chose Allegra because she is a warrior.”
Jenny nodded. “Maybe. That would make sense. A warrior against paranormal evil. Yes.”
It’s not how I’d describe myself. Oh sure, I can handle myself in a fight, but I’m hardly a warrior.
Casper interrupted my thoughts. “We should be heading back to Beag Glen.” He turned to Jenny. “We’ll see you safely home first.”
But Jenny refused to go home until she had inspected the cairn. “One of the stones fell when Leith attacked Allegra. It must be replaced.”
“You could do it tomorrow,” I said.
She was horrified by my suggestion. “It must be done immediately.”
“Okay.” Never get in the way of a woman’s devotion to her supernatural being. “We’ll wait here until you’re done.”
“There’s no need,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’m not frightened of Leith. He won’t harm me.”
I wasn’t too sure. He seemed to have gotten tired of waiting for a male heart.
“Jenny,” I said. “I really think we should wait until you—”
Casper put his hand on my arm. “Jenny has something to do here,” he said, “and we have to get back to Furness.”
I decided to trust Casper. He probably knew what he was doing. He always had in the past.
As we walked down the hill I said, “What happened to Leith?”
“How do you mean?”
“Is he dead? No, what I mean is—” What did I mean? What happened when an angel fought a heartless ghost? I’d never seen that before.
“Leith retreated to his cairn,” said Casper. “But I don’t think he’ll stay there for long.”
Neither did I, but Leith wasn’t my problem. Right now I was more concerned about Casper.
As we reached the car, I said, “Show me your hand.”
He did. It was already completely healed. Even I was astonished.
“Why did you grab the dirk?” I asked. “You could’ve grabbed Leith’s wrist.”
“I could have,” he conceded, “but that wouldn’t have given you the best protection. You might have been seriously injured.”
I touched his palm. “Did it hurt?”
“You know it did, Allegra. It might heal quickly but I feel the same pain as a mortal.”
I shuddered to think how much pain he had suffered on my behalf. Saying thanks didn’t really seem adequate but I did it anyway.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “Now show me your injury.”
When Leith had backhanded me, I had fallen against the cairn and bumped my head. Exploring the injury with my fingers I could feel a golf ball sized lump. It hurt, but as I told Casper, “It’s nothing.”
“I didn’t mean your head injury.” He pointed at my chest.
Glancing down I saw the place where Leith’s dirk had sliced my sweater. The pale wool was stained with blood.
“Let me take a look,” said Casper trying to lift my sweater and the shirt beneath.
“Not out here.” I pushed his hands away. There were people in the village street. “Wait till we get back to Mac’s.”
“Can you drive?” he asked. “Are you concussed?”
“I’m fine. Don’t fuss.”
“Isn’t that what you want?” he asked easily. “You seemed pretty upset when I asked after Jenny’s welfare and not yours.”
There was no answer to that so I ignored it and got in the car. Casper elected to fly back to Furness.
When we met up again in my bedroom at Mac’s, Casper said, “Let me take a look at your wound.”
This time I allowed him to remove my sweater and shirt. A thin cut ran from the bottom of my left breast to my belly button.
After examining it, Casper announced confidently, “It doesn’t need stitching.”
“How do you know? You’re not a doctor.”
“No,” he agreed, “but I’ve seen a lot of wounds. And this one isn’t bad. All it needs is some antiseptic.” He sighed. “If only we’d known about germs when I was alive, we could have saved so many warriors.”
Leaving Casper to his reminiscences of the past, I pulled on another shirt and headed downstairs to borrow some antiseptic from Douglas.
When I returned, Casper reached for the bottle. “Let me do that.”
“Look,” I said, “I appreciate you saving me from Leith and all, but I think I can manage the antiseptic myself.”
His expression told me I had insulted him. “I wouldn’t be a very good guardian angel if I didn’t dress your wound.”
There was no point arguing when he was trying to be a good guardian angel. Bowing to the inevitable, I handed him the bottle and unbuttoned my shirt. Gently he dabbed at my torso.
“Ouch. That stings.”
“Don’t be a baby,” he said. “Remember, Leith thought you had the heart of a warrior.”
“Yeah. I was just thrilled to be mistaken for a man.”
“Allegra.” He was kneeling in front of me. For a moment he stopped dabbing and looked into my eyes. He said very seriously, “Nobody could mistake you for a man.”
I stared at Casper in disbelief. Had I imagined that sexy little tremor in his voice? I must have. Casper was forbidden to have a relationship with me—or any other mortal, for that matter.
Lowering his eyes, he continued dabbing at my cut. When he reached the end, near my belly button, he started at the beginning again.
“What’re you doing?” I demanded. “One coating of antiseptic is more than enough.”
“I want to be sure I’ve killed all the germs,” he said.
I didn’t believe him. I thought he was enjoying touching me. But maybe that was wishful thinking. Oh well. Casper might not be allowed to enjoy physical contact but there was no reason I couldn’t. I leaned back, savoring the sensation of his warm fingers on my skin.
Chapter Six
I was lying on my bed in the Loch View room. Casper had gone and I was trying to summon the energy to go downstairs and get some dinner. I wasn’t hungry, but after the shock I’d had at Leith’s cairn, I knew eating would make me feel better.
Forcing myself off the bed, I checked my appearance in the mirror. There were smudges of dirt on my face. One of my cheeks was still red from Leith’s blow. I touched it gingerly. Luckily it didn’t hurt too much.
My worst injury was the thin red cut that ran across my torso. Despite Casper’s best efforts, it was an angry red. Probably I should have showered before he applied the antiseptic but I hadn’t thought of it. Now all I wanted was to wash the memory of Leith’s attack from my body.
The hot water and soap stung but I didn’t care. I scrubbed until I had removed all the dirt and maybe a few layers of skin as well. Then I got out, toweled myself dry and dabbed on more antiseptic. You can’t be too careful with injuries from ancient dirks.
Using the antiseptic reminded me of Casper’s earlier ministrations. If I’m being honest—and what’s the point of writing a memoir if you’re not?—I had enjoyed Casper’s attention. The touch of his fingers had given me a thrill that was much more disturbing than the sting of the soap and water. There was something very sexy about a big, powerful man gently tending a wound.
Clearly, I was crazy to allow myself such thoughts. Casper, as I well knew, was out of bounds. If I gave him a passionate kiss it could postpone his chances of entering Heaven for decades. If I had sex with him it could… I shuddered to think what catastrophic consequences that might have. If I really cared about Casper, I had to ignore my feelings for him.
Vowing to do just that, I put on fresh clothes and headed downstairs.
It was around seven o’clock. The pub was full, but even so I could see Casper’s head and shoulders above the rest. He wasn’t drinking. Not that the Powers-That-Be had forbidden him to drink, but as far as Casper was concerned, it could lead to diminished responsibility, which could in turn lead to his doing something that was forbidden. Usually he didn’t take any
chances.
He caught sight of me and waved.
Squeezing through the crowd of drinkers, I made my way toward him.
“I got us a table,” he said. “Do you want a drink?”
“Chamomile tea, please.” In the past I’d found it the best thing to drink after a shock.
“I don’t think they serve that here,” he said.
“There’s some in the kitchen. I’ll make it. You hold the table.”
I returned with tea for two. We sipped it as sedately as two maiden aunts. Neither of us spoke. I began to feel calmer. When Bess brought us two plates of roast chicken and vegetables, I stopped sipping and began to eat—potatoes first. The comfort food felt good in my stomach.
Casper dug into his food too. I don’t know what he eats on Cloud 9, but when he’s with me he eats what everyone else does.
He licked gravy off his lips. “This is good food.”
I nodded, savoring the taste of freshly cooked meat that had never seen the inside of a freezer. We city-dwellers miss a lot with our plastic-packaged food.
Putting aside my thoughts on country versus city life, I asked Casper, “What did you think of Jenny Clark?”
“She seemed a bit obsessed by Leith,” he replied, “but I think she’s harmless.”
“Harmless? She was much too eager to take us to the cairn. I’ve got a hunch she wanted Leith to take your heart.”
Casper regarded me pensively. “I think she was genuinely surprised when he tried to take your heart. And she did tell me to keep away from the cairn.”
I paused to eat the last mouthful of baked pumpkin. Then, putting down my fork, I said, “I don’t think Jenny, or even Leith, had anything to do with McEwen’s death. They’re red herrings.” I glanced at Casper to see if he agreed with me.
His expression betrayed nothing.
“What do you think?” I prompted. When he closed his lips, I muttered, “Okay you can’t answer. I get it. So here’s something you can answer—how many morsubs have you had?”
Casper had been doing this for two thousand years. He must have had a few in that time.
“I’ve lost count.”
“Who was the last person?” I persisted. “You must remember them.”
“It was someone who died too young. I didn’t guard her very well.”
“Her?”
Yeah, that was my first reaction. Not, uh-oh, you failed to protect your morsub. Sometimes I’m such a girl. But that was okay, especially after Leith mistaking me for a man.
Casper pushed a pea around his plate. “All my morsubs have been women. It’s part of my penance for all the bad things I did when I was alive. I’m constantly placed in the path of temptation but I mustn’t give in to it by becoming too close to my morsubs.”
That was a conversation killer if ever I’d heard one. A heavy silence stretched between us. Trying not to think about all the other women he had guarded, I poured us more tea from the pot.
Luckily, Douglas chose that moment to stop by our table. Balancing a tray of empty glasses, he asked, “Did you find out anything in Beag Glen?”
“Nothing that will help my investigation,” I answered. Somebody called out an order and Douglas hurried away.
As I sipped my tea, I eavesdropped on the conversation at a table behind me. I couldn’t see the speaker but my ears pricked up when someone mentioned the banshee.
“Thank the good Lord we’ve heard no wailing tonight.” It was the gruff, tobacco-aged voice of Malcolm Melville.
A younger voice that I couldn’t identify said, “We should drink a pint to McEwen’s memory.”
There was a chorus of agreement.
Melville asked, “Has McEwen’s body been found?”
When no one answered, the younger voice said, “Maybe he wasn’t really dead. Maybe he got up and walked away.”
“Then where is he now?” asked Melville.
Dead silence.
The young voice said, “Will there be a funeral? Or a memorial service? We should organize something.”
“We will,” said Melville. Then, “Who’s buying the next round?”
“I’ll get it,” said the young voice. A chair squeaked on the floorboards and someone stumbled toward the bar. When the others started talking about soccer, I tuned out.
Casper said, “You’re very quiet.”
I could tell by his expression that he knew I’d been eavesdropping. I felt like a naughty kid caught out by my teacher.
“I’m gathering information,” I said innocently.
Casper seemed amused rather than censorious. “Heard anything useful?”
I shrugged. “What do I do next?”
“I can’t help yo—”
“Yes, I know that,” I said. “It was a rhetorical question. I don’t expect you to help.”
He looked disappointed. Apparently he liked to think I wanted his help even if he couldn’t give it.
I began to play with a coaster. It had the word Mac’s written in white italics on a tartan banner.
“My next step,” I said tapping the side of the coaster on the table, “will be to visit Maitland House. I think it’s time I met Sir Alastair.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” said Casper.
I smiled at him. “Are you trying to help me?”
“Endorsing what you’ve already decided isn’t help.” He was very serious. I guess he had to be when breaking the rules could see him shut out of Heaven indefinitely. “Will we go to Maitland House first thing in the morning?” he asked.
“You’re coming with me?”
“I think I should.”
Apparently he could see trouble ahead, but that was no reason to change my plans. My job always involved some kind of trouble. That’s why I needed a guardian angel.
“We’ll go in the afternoon,” I said.
“Wouldn’t it be better to go in the morning?” asked Casper. “I’m not trying to offer help or anything but—”
“We’ll go in the late afternoon,” I said stubbornly, “and we’ll make sure we stay until dark. With luck, Sir Alastair will offer us a bed for the night.”
“Offer us a bed?”
“What?” I said. “You don’t want to sleep with me?”
“I think I need a beer.”
“I was kidding, Casper.”
“I know. I was kidding about the beer too.” But he didn’t object when I bought him half a pint.
I had never seen Casper get even a little drunk, and I have to say I was curious to know what kind of drunk he would be. But, true to form, he had half the drink then told me it was time for us both to get some rest.
I went outside with him.
“Take care, Allegra. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Where will I meet you?” Stupid question.
“I’ll find you,” he said.
As he began to disappear I whispered, “Goodnight, Casper.”
When he had completely disappeared, I stared up at the night sky wondering which bank of clouds included 9. I figured it would look pretty special, but there was nothing special about any of the clouds. They just drifted around trailing white mist over the moon.
“Are you all right, Allegra?” It was Douglas. “I noticed you weren’t inside and I thought you might…that you might need… What are you doing out here?”
“Saying goodnight to Casper,” I replied.
“Och.” He sounded disappointed. “Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“He could’ve had a room at Mac’s.” It was a generous offer, considering Douglas didn’t seem to like Casper. “Has he got a room in one of the other pubs?”
“Not exactly.”
“Where is he sleeping?” asked Douglas.
Think of something. Fast. You can’t tell him Casper sleeps on Cloud 9.
“Casper likes to…um…” Think. My brain wasn’t working. I tried harder. Suddenly it kicked into gear. Bingo. Got it. “Casper likes to sleep outdoors.” I gestured vaguely
at the forested hill behind Furness. “He’s pitched a tent somewhere out there.”
Douglas nodded as though he understood, “He looks like an outdoors type.” Apparently satisfied that I hadn’t been out here having a bit of heavenly hanky-panky, he said, “I’d better get back inside. We’re busy tonight. Everyone wants to hear the latest gossip about McEwen’s death.”
“I’m surprised they believe he’s dead, considering there’s no body.”
“Of course they believe it. They all heard the banshee.”
I shuddered at the memory of the horrible wailing.
“I’m tired,” I said, touching my cheek, which was hot and achy from Leith’s attack. “I think I’ll have an early night.”
Douglas gently stroked my sore cheek. “Casper should have done more to protect you today. If I’d been there you wouldn’t have been injured.”
This wasn’t the moment to remind Douglas that Casper had saved my life.
“Casper did his best,” I said.
“His best wasn’t good enough.”
I was too tired to argue.
Douglas continued, “Join me for a nightcap. You look like you could use it.”
“Thanks, but a good night’s sleep is all I need.”
He insisted on walking me inside and up to my room. “Just to make sure you get there safely.” Fortunately, he stopped short of putting me to bed.
I did that myself. As I lay in the darkness, I couldn’t help thinking of Douglas. He was handsome—better looking than Casper, really—and he liked me in the boy/girl way that was forbidden to Casper. So why hadn’t I suggested we spend the night together? I was a normal, healthy twenty-five-year-old who had happily lost my virginity eight years earlier. If I wasn’t quite ready for a committed relationship, that didn’t mean I couldn’t have fun in the meantime. Especially as Douglas was definitely my type.
Maybe I really was tired. Or maybe I was coming down with something. I felt the glands in my throat. Nope, they weren’t sore. Probably I was right about needing nothing more than a good night’s sleep. I turned onto my side, curled into a ball and pulled the covers over my head.
It took me three hours to fall asleep.
Chapter Seven