Evan’s eyelids fluttered.
Damp earth…
Without warning, the image of Bruce’s shriveled corpse assaulted his head as he recalled the havoc this handsome face had wreaked at the mansion, the lives he’d taken. With a jolt, his conscience kicked into default mode.
Evil. He is evil. He killed people.
Evan tried to push away from him, but the grip on his wrist simply tightened in response.
“Let go of me—” Struggling to free his hand, Evan stepped back, accidentally tripping on his own foot.
With a curse, he reflexively clasped whatever was in front of him: the handsome man’s red robes. Surprise flashed across scarlet eyes as their feet tangled, toppling them both over.
Evan shut his eyes tightly, awaiting the excruciating pain of landing flat on a tiled floor. Only, it never came.
Thud!
Two arms cushioned his fall, one under his head and the other at his back, as a heavy weight dropped on top of him, knocking the living breath out of his lungs.
Huffing and puffing, when Evan finally cracked open his eyes, the same scarlet eyes glowed down at him. Somehow more intense.
His lips parted. The tips of his fangs peeking.
Evan slowly blinked, once again dumbstruck by that face.
That was, until a rush of intense hunger engulfed him, churning in his stomach before ascending up his chest. It seared through him. Scalding. Tormenting.
Evan’s heart stuttered when it finally registered that the hunger wasn’t radiating from him.
And in the haze of the moment, Evan realized a few horrifying things. The bottle of sacred water was no longer in his hand, his core of spiritual energy was still wide open, and the hard thing poking his thigh was…was a fucking boner!
5. A Perverted Ghost
With a sudden rush of shock and disgust, Evan pushed against the hard chest before him, cringing when he touched bare skin. But with the size of that thing—man?—pushing a mountain would’ve been easier.
“Get off!” Evan gritted out, struggling to breathe with the two hundred and something pounds of solid weight crushing him. “You—asshole, get off of me!”
As if he’d just realized that Evan was trying to push him, the red-clad figure blinked, then leaned away with ease, kneeling at Evan’s feet, face void of any guilt whatsoever. The bulge in his dusty black pants had not pacified yet, and when it brushed against Evan’s feet, his soul almost fled his body.
Not trusting his legs again to stand, Evan quickly scooted away on his ass, as far away as possible. The salt circle—which was half destroyed by the intruder—was now scattered in all directions by his hasty movements.
Dark brows slowly drew together as Evan slithered away from him, his face impassive.
Evan buried his face in his palm, breathing shakily. What thefuckhad just happened?
A ghost with a boner? How was that shit even possible?
Wait.
Evan had touched him with his core of spiritual energy still exposed, but the red-clad figure wasn't exorcised. He was stillthere, staring at Evan with such a strange look of interest that he almost threw up the chicken soup still gurgling in his stomach.
Am I dreaming?
Evan shook his head frantically, slapping himself hard enough to leave a sting behind. He had to wake up from this nightmare.
God, tell me this is a nightmare.
Unfortunately, God didn’t answer.