Page 91 of Ghost Walk
He shot Grace an amazed look. “I can’t believe you once asked me if I was bored around you, woman.” He got the door to the armory opened and ushered her inside. “Okay. So do you have a plan on how we deal with this? Or shall we just leave this accursed town to Shrek?”
“You’re hilarious.” Grace leaned against the heavy wooden door and looked around.
The armory had circular walls, all of them covered in the town’s stockpile of swords, muskets, and pistols. A wooden staircase led to a loft, where the gunpowder was kept in huge barrels. Back in the twenty-first century, it was the only spot in Harrisonburg that bored teenage boys enjoyed visiting. Rewinding two-hundred years into the past, it looked pretty much the same, except the weapons were actually working, sharp, and/or dangerous. Sadly, none of them looked like they would make much of a dent in Eugenia’s green hide.
Grace swallowed hard. “Unless there’s a bazooka lying around in here, we still have a big problem.”
“Why is Eugenia Wentworth trying to kill us?” Jamie demanded, trying to catch up. “I was only gone for ten minutes. What the hell did I miss?”
“She’s trying to killme. Not you. She’s a lunatic stalker, who thinks you’re her soulmate. She’s been taking out the competition, one dance partner at a time, and I’m next on the hit list.”
Jamie blinked at that CliffsNotes version of the crazy. “Eugeniais the killer? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Does itlooklike the Jolly Green Giant is kidding around out there?”
“But I never showed even a modicum of interest in that humorless girl!” Jamie’s eyebrows compressed, like hewas looking for some kind of logic in the horribly, tragically, completely illogical. “Why would she kill her own sister because ofme?”
“She didn’t do anythingbecause of you.” Grace corrected, not wanting him to somehow blame himself for any of this. “Eugenia killed her own sister because she’s a sick, frigging nut-bag. Don’t get caught up in her madness, Jamie. My professional diagnosis is she’s a narcissistic, sociopathic, bat-shit crazy bitch.”
His mouth gave a reluctant quirk. “I’m always strangely comforted when you start cursing.”
“You’re welcome. Now help me figure out a way to escape the big, huge, troll doll outside.” Grace tried to think. How were they going to stop Eugenia from…? Her attention fell on the largest weapon in the armory. Hang on. Maybe therewassomething in 1789 that could cause some real damage. “Jamie? Tell me about the cannons on your ship.”
He followed her gaze and made a considering face. “Well, they’re a lot like that one, actually.” He said in a far more optimistic tone.
“So you can fire it?”
“I’m a pirate, love. What do you think?”
Clearly melting-your-brain sex was justoneof the many benefits of dating this guy. She arched a brow. “I think we should blast Eugenia back to Middle Earth and set sail for Jamaica.”
“I love the way your mind works.” Jamie headed over to a stack of cannon balls, which were the size of grapefruit. “We need to get Eugenia in front of the door and then shoot her right through the wood. It’ll be far easier to aim, if she’s closer.”
“Somehow I don’t think it’s going to take a lot to lure her over here.” In fact, Eugenia was already trying to knock through the wall. “Is setting off a canon in here going to light the whole armory on fire?”
Jamie mulled that over for a beat. “Probably not.” He finally decided.
“Probablynot?”
“Well, I doubt anyone’s ever tried it before, so I can’t say for certain. I’ve yet to set my ship ablaze, if that makes you feel any better.”
“It really doesn’t.” Grace shook her head, not sure whether to scream or laugh. “For real, this kind of stuff doesn’t happen to normal people, right?”
He flashed her a swashbuckling grin. “Nope. Just to odd-ducks like you and me, lass.”
“That’s what I thought.” Grace blew out a long breath and gave up even pretending she was anything but a Rivera. “Okay, then.” She pointed towards the door, flinching as Eugenia tried her best to knock the building down around them. “Fire when ready, Captain.”
Chapter Nineteen
June 28, 1789- Eugenia and I were just arguing, again. Either the girl is developing a sense of humor or she’s lost her mind! You should have heard the nonsense she was spouting!
From the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
The cannon’s detonation was deafening.
Even with her hands plastered over the sides of her head to muffle the noise, Grace still felt like her eardrums ruptured when the blast went off. The cannon rolled backwards on its wheels, as a Newtonian response to the force of the discharge. The iron ball tore through the oak door of the armory, leaving a massive hole in the wood.
Jamie and Grace ducked their heads in unison to peer through it, gauging the success of their plan.
