“Uh, shit. Yeah. Okay. That was a ghost.”
For the first time, he appears afraid. Or at the very least, unsettled by what we just experienced.
“I’m going to talk to him,” I decide, releasing Thad’s hand. “You coming?”
My brother shakes his head. “Hell no.”
“Scaredy cat,” I accuse with a light laugh before I walk forward, twist the knob, and open the door. As I enter, I close it behind me, wondering who or what I’ll find inside.
Chapter 2 Natalya
There’s no one in the room. That’s the first thing I notice. The window is closed, and it’s quiet. I don’t hear a sound as I walk across the floor, pass the bathroom, and walk toward the door that connects it to another room. It’s cracked a few inches as if someone left it intentionally ajar.
There’s a part of me that wonders what this ghost wants. I have so many questions. Who is waiting for me? Why? Is this real? Will I find something connecting this hotel to the Hillside Stalker and his followers?
I’ve read the articles online about the murder spree and the supposed cult that follows the serial killer. People speculate that another slew of murders will start soon because the anniversary is approaching. It’s been nearly forty-three years since the last death.
People in the paranormal community really love numbers that end in three, seven, and use triple sixes. I don’t think there’s any validity in it other than trying to force the unexplainable into rational explanations and categories. It’s a waste of time.
But I see it often on my blog. I’m always getting comments about the significance of those numbers. When I leaked a hint that I might be visiting the site of the Hillside Stalker, my viewership and followers tripled. People are fascinated by the murders, the serial killer Rayford Allen, his descendants, like the recently deceased Johnathon Allen, and the upcoming anniversary.
Despite the interest, I’ve not gone live since I arrived in Raven’s Crest. I never reveal where I am until after I’ve left a location. It’s too easy for some weird stalker to show up. As Thad has pointed out numerous times, you never know what peopleare capable of and willing to do. Or if they’ll harm you to gain notoriety.
Not that I’m a celebrity. But I do have a decent following, and my TikTok videos get a lot of views. I actually get sponsors and am paid to visit some of the most interesting places in the U.S. I wouldn’t trade what I do for anything.
My heart is pounding so loud I wonder if the ghosts in the hotel can hear it. When I lift my hand to push the door a bit wider, I hear the rustle of fabric. Like someone is there, waiting, on the other side.
As soon as I step through the doorway, a body collides with mine. I’m slammed against the wall by a hard, muscled chest that keeps me pinned in place while a forearm rises to press close to my throat. I gasp as my head tilts back and I connect with a pair of grayish blue eyes. “Hey!” I yell, startled, but also confused because this man isn’t a ghost.
He’s not the one who spoke to me.
It’s dark in this room, but there’s a candle burning on a nearby dresser, casting shadows across the man’s angular jaw and the stubble growing on it. He’s got the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen. Shoulder length. Natural waves. A chestnut color with varying shades of brown and a bit of caramel.
He’s gorgeous. That doesn’t escape my notice, along with every other detail about him—his strength. Full lips. The scent of sandalwood and whiskey, mixing with what I think is leather. It makes sense since he’s wearing a leather vest with patches.
“Eyes up here,” he growls, obviously not enjoying my perusal.
I struggle against his hold, but I fail to move any part of him. He’s solid and hard, all lean lines and quiet menace. I don’t know what this guy’s problem is, but I need to finish my tour and return to Thad. My brother is waiting for me.
“Remove your hands from my body,” I order with more venom than I intend. Just because he’s handsome in a raw and primal way doesn’t mean he has the right to touch me.
“I will. First, answer a question for me.” His voice is less gruff but no less gritty.
“What is it?”
“How did you find this room?”
Weird. I didn’t expect that.
“I walked into it,” I deadpan, tilting my head to the side. “Same as you, I’d guess.”
He snorts. “It’s not accessible.”
I gesture with my hand. “The door was open several inches.”
He frowns, turning his head to glance at the closed door. “No. I locked it.”
Pursing my lips, I decide I’m not going to argue. “Listen, just back up, and I’ll leave. I don’t want to be in this room any more than you want me in it.”
