Bradley fired again, and then once more, unbelievably, all was still. The wind, the light, the smell…all of it was gone.
But this time, when Gideon turned slowly in the blackness, he saw something that made his hair lift all along the back of his neck.
It was an amorphous shape…greenish, yellowish, and itglowedin the dark as it wisped like curls of smoke right in front of Bradley Forth.
The man’s illuminated face was frozen in an expression of slack-jawed terror, and he gasped for air as though something was dragging the life out of him.
The shape…theghost, for lack of a better word, swirled gently, and, as Gideon watched, the glow metamorphosed into something that resembled a figure.
A woman.
He watched. The hair and nerve endings all along his arms vibrated alarmingly as the figure took shape, the face evolving into a clear, detailed image…one that was so familiar to him that he glanced down to make sure Fiona was still there next to him. She moaned, shifting against his feet, and he reached down to comfort her with his touch. Then he looked back up.
“Gretchen.” He whispered her name. The ghost’s name.
His fingers were cold, but he realized he wasn’t frightened.
Still gripping the smooth statue, slick now from the sweat on his palms, Gideon watched the ghostly figure seep back into nothingness as though her work was complete.
There was darkness, then another loud crash next to him. Then the lights flashed on long enough for Gideon to bring the statue down on the back of Bradley’s head.
Then, there was abrupt, dead, silence.
Twenty-Two
When Fiona opened her eyes,she saw Gideon’s face close to hers, his eyes bright with concern.
She blinked, struggling to make sense of her murky thoughts. Something was wrong…her brows drew together and she swallowed, her dry throat rasping with the effort.
Then she remembered: Brad Forth. She must have tried to cry out a warning, for Gideon covered her lips with a pair of gentle fingers.
“Shh…he’s not going to hurt you, baby…He’s gone.”
“Brad…?” she managed to whisper.
“Yes, Brad. I must say, I’d rather hopedmyname would have been the first thing you said…” He smiled gently. “Instead of his.”
Fiona couldn’t hold back her own painful grin. She didn’t know what happened, or how Gideon had managed to be there, but he was—andhe had made a rare joke.
Two miracles in one night.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmured something that sounded like “I love you” and then pulled away to look down at her.
His face was so dear to her, so handsome and familiar and sowanted…Fiona felt like she was going to get lost in the warmth and love in his eyes.
Something had changed with him. The shutters had fallen from his face, and it was open, glowing, soft.
Fiona became aware that they weren’t alone and she struggled to sit up on a sofa. People were moving around, talking, lights were on…
They were in the shop, she realized, her mind still foggy as she recognized the back room. Yes, that was right—Brad had brought her here, then pulled a gun on her.
She shuddered, and Gideon pulled her close to his warm, solid body that smelled—not of overpowering cologne, but of maleness and strength. Goosebumps lifted on her bare arms, and he smoothed his beautiful hands up over her skin, gently caressing her chilled arms.
“What happened?” she managed to say, just Helga van Hest walked up to them.
“How are you Fiona?” she asked, reaching for her wrist to check her pulse before she could reply.
“I’m fine. I just…want to know what happened.”
