Once Upon a Ghost by Day Leclaire

Author:Day Leclaire
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2012-10-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Madam Zufalo glanced from Rachel to Zach and began a hasty backpedal. She scooped up the cooler, closed her eyes and raised a hand. "I see turbulent times ahead for all," she pronounced. "Good luck, my dears." Jamming her turban more securely on her head, she dashed across the cemetery, her caftan flapping about her legs. The sculpted iron gate clanged shut behind her.

Zach lunged after her, then stopped abruptly. Turning slowly, he faced the tree. "I swear, I'm going to get my hands on one of you," he said, his voice raw with fury. "Guess who it's going to be."

"Not me," Rachel yelped from her precarious position. "Damn it, Zach. Madam Zufalo did this. All of it. And when I get through with her, that woman will have conjured her last spook."

He took a step closer and a splinter of moonlight cut across the hard angles of his face.

"She— I—" Rachel sputtered to a halt. Uh-oh. A logjam of words blocked her throat. Indignation faded while apprehension pushed its way to the surface. This didn't look too encouraging. Not encouraging at all. At a guess, she was in deep, deep trouble.

He took another step forward. "Come here, my sweet," he growled. "So I can kill you." Murder glittered in his eyes like gold dust.

Frantically she shook her head. No way would she go anywhere near him while his face looked like that. Absolutely. Positively. No way. "You don't understand," she croaked.

Another step brought him beneath the protective embrace of the tree boughs. "No, you don't understand. I have had it. Get down. Now!"

She almost obeyed. Almost. But self-preservation proved to be an incredibly strong instinct, she discovered. "What a beautiful night," she announced. "I can see the moon and at least a billion stars from this little branch. It's a great view, so I think I'll stay right here and view it."

With an inarticulate bellow he grasped the trunk in both hands. For a horrifying minute, she thought he'd rip the tree out by its roots and dump her at his feet. "You either climb down or I'm climbing up. Your choice. But—trust me—you won't like it if I'm forced to come after you."

He was angry. She could tell. "Don't I have a say in this?" she demanded.

His fist slammed into the gnarled trunk and the entire tree shook. She scrambled for a more secure hold. "You're going to have plenty to say," he informed her with grim intent. "You're going to have whole volumes to say. In fact, you're going to have so much to say, you'll wish you never learned to talk."

She lifted her chin, struggling to hide her alarm. "I decline your gracious invitation."

He held up two fingers, pinched tightly together. "This is how much patience I have left. So either plant yourself in front of me fast, or I'll say to hell with it and call the cops."

"You wouldn't!"

"I would. The idea of seeing your pretty, little tush behind bars has infinite appeal."

Outrage foolishly overcame discretion.

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