Bad Blood by Robyn Bachar

Author:Robyn Bachar [Bachar, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal rom, cursed hero, Romance, haunted manor, General, Magic, ghost hunting, demons, Fiction, fantasy, witches
ISBN: 9780996349093
Google: lLOTxgEACAAJ
Publisher: Robyn Bachar
Published: 2019-01-28T23:57:10+00:00

We started with Angela again, and apparently she had been waiting for me. The cold spot formed quickly, and then it led me out of the bedroom. It took me to the library and then dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Huh. I scanned the room with the thermal camera, but everything matched room temperature.

“Right…now what?” I asked.

“It must have led you there for a reason,” John said. “Are there any paintings from the time period? Portraits of the family, or journals?”

“That ledger is here.”

“Try reading aloud from it,” John suggested.

I turned and shot a dry look at the IR camera in the library. “You want me to read in the dark? I can’t even see my hand in front of my face.” I waved my hand for emphasis, and a sigh whispered over the headset.

“Use your flashlight.”

I rolled my eyes. “What is this, Girl Scout camp? Will I be making s’mores next?”

“Nati—”

“Fine. Reading by flashlight.”

I sat at the desk and propped the thermal camera up so it was aimed at the doorway. I withdrew my flashlight from my bag and opened the ledger.

“I know you all seem to think that Spanish is all the same, but I wasn’t kidding when I said this stuff is dense,” I warned. “Spain has a whole verb tense that Latin American Spanish doesn’t use. And this is a completely different dialect from what I’m used to, and it’s handwritten.”

“We have faith in your awesome,” Kenji said.

I snorted and shook my head. “I should get a raise for this.”

Much of it was an account of the needs of the house—servants’ wages, food costs, upkeep details—but there were personal notes as well. I skipped to the month before Angela’s death and skimmed for details. There were bland notes on wedding preparation details, until the entry dated the day after the wedding.

“Whoa.”

“Out loud,” Piper shouted.

“I had to find something interesting first, otherwise you’d be listening to commentary on how the local tin peddler is a swindling bastard. And you want the translation, I assume. Unless you understand eighteenth-century Spanish?”

“We love you, Nati,” Piper said. “Now read.”

“Here goes: Tragedy has struck the household. Yesterday, only hours after the wedding, Doña Angela was discovered murdered. She had been stabbed several times with a knife stolen from the kitchen, suggesting that a servant had committed this foul deed, yet each person was accounted for. Don Cristóbal is missing, and the authorities believe that he killed his bride and fled.”

“Nati,” John said.

“What?”

“The thermal.”

I’d forgotten about the thermal camera. Sick dread settled in my stomach as I looked at the screen, and there in the doorway was a human shape—a large human shape, broad and tall. Fear iced my veins as I froze in terror, but then I remembered Cris’s advice to ask it what it wanted.

Right. It’s just a big shadowy housecat. It’s just as scared of me as I am of it.

Slowly I reached into the bag and withdrew the spirit speaker.

“Don’t engage it,” John warned.

“I just want to ask it a question,” I whispered.

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