Page 99 of Black Heart

“Aye,” Finn readily agreed, giving her a pointed look.

“Remember the beatings?” Declean asked conversationally as he sat on the couch near Finn.

“I doubt any of us will ever be able to forget the beatings,” Connall said in a harsh whisper that had the others nodding solemnly.

“Are you done yet?” Marty asked, refusing to be amused by this. She had something that she needed to do, and she couldn’t do it with an audience.

“Why?” Shayne asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement, “are ye gonna beat us?”

“You really are related to Tristan,” Marty muttered, shaking her head in disgust as she turned around and walked out of the room.

“What are we doing?” Declean asked as he appeared on her right side, startling another scream out of her and causing her to stumble.

“Anything that we can help with, lass?” Quinn asked, appearing to her left and catching her by the elbow and steadying her before she fell flat on her face just as the rather frightening screams started from what sounded like the kitchen.

Instead of answering him, because at that moment she was pretty sure that she’d lost the ability to talk, she blindly reached out and grabbed his hand. She squeezed the hell out of it while she watched a half-naked man with shaggy, dirty-blonde hair run out of the staircase wall, across the small hallway, and through the opposite wall.

“Get back here, ye little bastard!” Aidan shouted as he ran out of the wall, across the small hallway and through the opposite wall after the shaggy-haired man who wouldn’t stop screeching.

“Are ye hungry, lass?” Declean asked, giving her hand a gentle tug that had her automatically following him. A few seconds later, he pulled her back when the shaggy-haired man, still screeching, suddenly jumped out of the wall and ran back the way he came.

“We could get ye some bread or fruit,” Quinn offered.

She couldn’t do more than shake her head as she watched Aidan come running through the wall, looking really pissed as he ran across the hall and into the opposite wall.

“Ye really should eat, lass,” Declean said, giving her another nudge that had her once again walking towards the kitchen.

“Stop trying to touch me, you pervert!” the shaggy-haired man screeched as he once again made an appearance, but this time, she’d heard him coming and managed to stop on her own without having to be prompted. They watched as he ran back through the wall, and then as one, they turned their heads and watched as Aidan stumbled out of the wall after him.

“Will ye be needing some help with this one?” Quinn asked, sounding thoughtful.

Without sparing them a look, Aidan flipped him off as he took off after the shaggy-haired ghost who couldn’t seem to stop screeching. Quinn and Declean chuckled as they once again started to lead her towards the kitchen, but between the screeching, the men scaring the hell out of her by popping in and out of the room, and watching the two men run back and forth, she had the start of what promised to be a really bad headache.

“I’m going back to bed,” Marty announced, turning around and heading for the stairs, deciding that she could make her call upstairs before she crashed for the night.

“Are ye sure, lass?” Quinn asked, joining her on the stairs.

“Yes,” Marty said, pressing her fingertips against her temple that was already starting to throb.

Instead of disappearing like she’d expected him to, he continued to walk with her up the stairs. When he took a right turn at the top of the stairs to walk towards her bedroom, she said, “You don’t have to follow me.”

“I’m afraid that I do, lass,” Quinn answered with a careless shrug and a gesture for her to keep walking when she stopped to frown up at him.

“No, you don’t.”

“Aye, I do.”

“No, youreallydon’t,” Marty stressed, feeling her patience begin to fray.

He leaned down until his face was only a few inches away from hers and with a devilish grin, said, “Aye, Ireallydo.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s my watch,” Quinn said with a wink as he stepped back and gestured for her to continue.

“There really isn’t any point in arguing with you, is there?” Marty asked, too exhausted to put up much of an argument and not dumb enough to even try for two very important reasons.

They were dealing with spirits and as stubborn as she was, Marty had to admit that she was out of her league on this one. She didn’t know how to protect herself against them and doubted that it was even possible since their touch seemed to paralyze her with fear and dread. It was an experience that she never wanted to repeat again if she could help it.

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