When he looked over, the bedroom door was slowly opening, and that couldn’t be good.
Could it?
Graham held his breath.
As soon as it was fully open, that’s when he saw it. Standing in the hallway, staring into the room where he was, there were two shadowy figures.
Oh, shit.
Duncan and his lover were back.
Now, he knew it wasn’t good. The ghosts didn’t just show up in the morning for a cup of tea and some chumminess.
That was anything but the truth.
It had been a while since he’d seen them around the castle, four weeks, exactly, but there they were—back again for more chaos.
As if they were speaking a language together that no one heard, they both pointed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, as if they were chummy and he would be getting an answer from the two long-dead men.
Never let it be said the universe didn’t have incredible timing. The second the words were out of his mouth, that’s when Graham heard it.
There was a loud, feral, masculine scream.
It made him gasp as he tried to figure out where it was coming from.
Was that outside of the castle?
Was that D’Artangnan?
Oh, shit.
The lake.
There was no doubt in his mind that the man was in danger. That lake was a nightmare on a good day, but with something haunting it…
Graham had to move.
NOW.
Jumping out of bed, he grabbed his jeans, pulled them on, and ran barefoot down the stone stairs, out to the kitchen, and onto the land behind the house.
He.
Hauled.
Ass.
The sense of urgency filled him, as he already knew what was happening.
The man he loved, and always would love, was in danger. The two dead men wouldn’t come warn him if it wasn’t a fact.
“D’Artangnan!” he yelled, his heart pumping in his chest.
When he received no answer, he scanned the area, and that’s when he saw Ciarán Begbie at the top of the hill leading down to the lake.
Yeah, it looked as if he was right.
