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“Except there’s no such thing as ghosts.”
Liam lifted a brow. “I ken you’re not from around here.”
“And you are.”
“Always have been,” Liam agreed, then sighed. “Always will be.”
A sharp scritch from below—shoes on stone—made her tense and frown. The call, “Hullo!” made her step around Liam and glance over the edge. “What are ye doing up there?”
“I, uh, well, you see, we—”
“We?” The man repeated. “How many of ye are there?”
Liam slipped across the short space and started down the stairs.
“Just me and—” The woman cursed. He heard her hurry after him, but by then Liam had reached the ground and disappeared.
*
Footsteps pounded up the steps, and a second man burst in. It wasn’t until disappointment flared that Kris realized she’d been hoping it was him.
However, where the first man had been close to her own height and wiry with muscle, this one, whom she figured to be the night watchman of the castle considering the uniform, was huge—at least six-three and over two hundred pounds, his muscles reminiscent of those she’d glimpsed in the high school weight room during those hours the football team spent grunting and posturing.
Kris had always been too focused on schoolwork to date a football player—hell, be honest she’d been too much of a geek for any of them to notice. But she hadn’t been blind or stupid or gay, and she’d looked in whenever she passed the window of that weight room. She’d looked in, and she’d remembered.
Right now, she couldn’t think why. When she compared the bulky, overpumped pecs revealed by the guard’s uniform with the hard, sinewy ripples beneath the worn T-shirt of the disappearing man, the latter won without question.
The newcomer flicked her a glance. He had blue eyes, too, but they seemed washed out when set in that pale face beneath hair an unfortunate shade of orangutan.
He trained his flashlight into every shady corner. Kris followed the beam eagerly. But no one was there.
The man turned to her with a frown. “Ye said ‘we.’”
“There was a guy here, but now he’s…” Kris spread her hands. “Not.”
The frown deepened. “Where did he go?”
Kris pointed at the stairs, then shrugged.
“I came up directly,” the guard said. “I didnae see anyone coming down.”
A trickle of unease rolled across Kris’s spine, but she quashed it. There had been a man. He’d kissed her, for crying out loud! Ghosts couldn’t kiss.
Because ghosts did not exist.
“Well, he isn’t here,” she said a bit too sharply, “so he had to have gone down there. Unless you know of another way out.”
“Just…” The guard made a motion of diving off the edge.
Kris resisted the urge to scurry over and check. She’d have heard him if he’d jumped. There would have been an unpleasant splat. Kris shuddered.
“Getting cool out here now, miss. Best ye go back—” He paused. “Where are ye stayin’? I didnae see a car.”
“Loch Side Cottage.”
“Ah, the Cameron place. Then ye havenae far to go. I’ll walk ye.”
“No need.” She picked up her video camera, thrilled it hadn’t gotten trampled in the commotion.
