High Noon (Between the Veils Series, Book Two) Read Online Free PDF Page A

prickling the hairs on his arms. At least the drop in temperature indicated a spirit, not a demon. He ran the words over in his head as he made for his truck, slamming into the rear quarter panel when his equilibrium shifted again. Blake rubbed his shoulder then rounded to the back, lowering the tailgate. He snagged one of the bags and ripped open the zipper, rummaging through his supplies, wishing he’d taken the time to gather more information about the possible spirits haunting this area. As it was, he was walking in blind.
    He ignored the inklings of fear, taking anything remotely useful from the bag and stuffing it in his jacket. Then he grabbed the crowbar and stalked toward the house. Leaves rustled in the trees and a swirl of dirt eddied in front of him. He cursed but kept going, ignoring the flashes of cold over his skin.
    Go back.
    The ghostly voice drifted to him as he neared the front door.
    He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “You can haunt my ass all you want, but I’m not leaving here without her.”
    He looked back when something bumped his shoulder. Blake growled and turned, some salt and holy water ready in his hands when a fine mist materialized off to his left, vanishing through some bushes.
    Go back .
    He stared at where the apparition had disappeared, when the words finally made sense. “Fuck. Not leave…go to the back.”
    Blake darted down the side of the gallery, pushing through the underbrush where the partial manifestation had vanished. A pocket of cold sent shivers racing up his spine, but he pressed on, hacking his way to the rear door. Dark shadows covered the small porch, shrouding the area like an oppressive blanket. He tried the handle.
    “Damn it.” He resisted slamming his fist against the unforgiving wood, wondering why the spirit had led him back here when something banged at the far corner of the building.
    Blake unclipped his flashlight and twisted the shaft, cursing when the light flickered then died. Apparently the spirit had drained the energy supply in order to communicate with him. He inhaled a rough breath then groped his way along the back of the gallery, stopping at a large set of wooden doors. Dread crawled down his spine as he stared at the entrance to the cellar. God, he hated cellars.
    He shook his head, fingering the lock and chain sealing the two pieces of wood together before placing his crowbar along the short length of metal and wrenching the links apart. The chain twisted, then broke, dropping the lock to the ground. The doors rattled, sending a low tone echoing through the air. He cringed, knowing every noise put Payton at further risk.
    Fear tumbled through his gut, the uncertainty of what he’d find weighing heavy on his conscience. He took a calming breath and yanked the doors apart, peering into the black space. A rickety set of steps descended into the cellar, the bottom few rows fading into the darkness. Blake swung one leg over the lip, wishing he’d brought more batteries, though he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. The last thing he needed was to give the entity that had grabbed Payton more energy to feed off of.
    The damp air hung heavy in his chest, the strong musty aroma bringing back more than a few memories of his previous case. He tried to push them aside as he reached the bottom, squinting into the darkness. The grayish light faded into black as he moved away from the steps, making his way across the room. The beams above him squeaked and he coughed as a cloud of dust drifted down from the rafters. Something hit the floor overhead, followed by an eerie scraping sound.
    He cursed as he made his way to the far wall, feeling along the brick until he found the main electrical box. He opened the panel and flipped the switch, cutting off the power. Though it was unlikely the spirit could use that form of energy, he wasn’t about to take any chances—not with Payton’s life on the line.
    Blake closed the panel and groped his way over to the