Page 7 of Tall, Dark and Haunted

Chapter Four

Topher

Icometowith a dull ache in my back where I’ve landed on Red’s knee. Eyelids firmly shut against the dust storm raging around us, I weave my hand through the random assortment of limbs and bodies beneath me and rub the sore spot. Which hurts like an antler caught in a holly bush.

Wait… I’m in pain!

The realization floors me. So does the fact that I’m sprawled across the hall floor with my friends beneath me and Rhiannon wrapped protectively in the crook of my shoulder. The feel of her against my body is enough to distract me from the pain in my back.

I’m actually holding her. Holding Rhiannon. Holding a naked woman!

Not that I can see her nudity through the dust, but I can feel her. Her body is warm, no longer wet, and it gives off a tangy scent. I can smell her bear quite clearly even if it is mingled with a strange spice in the air that I don’t recognize. Her scent is much stronger than it was before, when I couldn’t touch her.

Why is it that I can touch her? How is this possible? We’re dead! Definitely dead. Have been for quite some time. And yet I can feel my heart racing in my chest and I can smell Rhiannon.

I nuzzle my face into her hair, breathing in that addictive bear smell that seems to radiate off her skin. If I hadn’t already been hard from the moment I saw her naked body, I definitely would be now that I’m holding her hot, soft flesh in my arms.

She shivers and I instinctively pull her closer, an unruly need for her welling up inside me. It pulses through every inch of my body. And all gentlemanly thoughts evaporate as I imagine all the things I want to do to her.

“Bugger hell, Topher,” Davy complains. “Get your heavy arse off my head!”

Ignoring him, I try to look about. My eyes are stinging slightly and I can barely see the castle hall, let alone the girl in my arms. I try to rub the back of one hand over my eyes, and slap myself in the face. I suppose I’m slightly out of practice.

I reach for my eyes again, and this time my hand cooperates. But it doesn’t help with whatever’s gotten into them. The strange spicy substance that blew through the air like a storm seems to be all over me. If anything, rubbing my eyes only makes them more sore.

“Why does everything smell like pumpkin?” Red asks before sneezing loudly.

Davy struggles as he tries to crawl out from beneath us. “Who cares? I just want to get this damn stuff out of my eyes.”

Rolling to the side, I pull Rhiannon with me, doing my best to protect her from Davy’s thrashing about. It’s one thing for us to have all caught an eyeful, but I won’t allow the guys to catch a handful too. No groping the naked woman.

“Are you all right?” I ask Rhiannon, blinking repeatedly so that I can catch a glimpse of her face. It doesn’t work. She’s a rather pretty blur, but it’s impossible to tell if she’s hurt. “Are you injured?”

“Aren’t I a ghost?” Her tone is bewildered as she clings to me as if for dear life. She feels so good against my skin. I still can’t wrap my mind around the idea that I have a physical body again. It’s been too damn long since I was alive. I’d actually forgotten what it feels like.

I want to say it feels awful—there’s that awful stinging in my eyes and the pain in my back—but I revel in it. Welcome feeling, even if it hurts. Plus, there’s the warm naked bosom pressed against my arm.

My fingers itch to explore Rhiannon’s body in a most ungentlemanly manner. But I do my best to ignore the temptation. There will be plenty of time for that later, once I’ve ascertained what has happened to us and whether or not we’re in any danger.

Danger! Something else that I’ve forgotten about since we trapped Henry Jones in the basement. Just the thought of him has me tightening my grip on Rhiannon.

“What happened?” Red attempts to get into a sitting position and wobbles all over the place.

Davy finally manages to extract himself from beneath us. He tries to give me a swift kick in the shin and misses entirely. “That’s for sitting on my head, you big lug,” he says anyway, his voice lacking any malice.

I hear the same mix of awe and delight in his words that I feel at having my body back. Although his first experience being back amongst the living definitely hasn’t been as gratifying as my own. The unlucky bastard woke up with my arse in his face, while I’m the lucky sod who has Rhiannon curled up against my body.

I’m not smug at all… or at least, Davy can’t see the smirk on my face thanks to the pungent brown spice that seems to have permeated the entire castle. It’s unfortunate, really, because there are few things I enjoy more than bickering with Davy.

Even though the spice is clogging up my ears, it doesn’t affect my hearing, and absolute chaos is erupting around us. There are panicked shouts coming from several senior citizens as they call for their tour guide and each other. There are thumps, grunts, and groans as others struggle to get to their feet. I’d do the same, but I can’t quite recall how to coordinate my limbs. And I don’t want to let go of Rhiannon.

“M-Maggie! Maggie!” An old man with a cane stumbles past us, coughing into a handkerchief stained with brown spice. Utterly revolting. I wouldn’t allow that thing anywhere near my mouth. But then again, I imagine my clothing probably looks much the same.

“E-excuse me, sir. Have you seen my wife?”

It takes me a moment to realize that he’s talking to me. Me! A man who has been a ghost for so long he’s stopped counting the years. Can he actually see me?

“Can’t say that I have,” I reply cautiously, straining my eyes to look up into his face. A part of me thinks he won’t hear my reply—that he really is talking to someone else—but he nods before moving on.