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  Good Will Ghost Hunting 2

  Good Will Ghost Hunting: Hell’s Bells

  Kal doesn't just have personal demons—she's marrying one.

  Kalyani Martin, a Baptist minister's daughter, intended to save herself for the right guy. She just never realized he would be Will Helloenboek, The Firm's head archdemon. Between producing their popular ghost hunting show and planning her wedding without her parents finding out the truth about Will and The Firm, it's enough to drive a girl crazy.

  Ryan Ausar runs The Firm. Will and his cousin, Aidan Faust, are more than just employees—they're joined by an unbreakable bond that ties them to their tragic past. Ryan keeps a secret that goes back to the dark and crazy days…and it's returning to unleash bloody vengeance upon them all.

  As Ryan struggles behind the scenes to keep things together, can he preserve the fragile joy finally blessing his friends' lives without revealing the soul-crushing truth that could destroy all they hold dear?

  NOTE: This book was previously published with another publisher.

  Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal

  Length: 80,304 words

  GOOD WILL GHOST HUNTING: HELL’S BELLS

  Good Will Ghost Hunting 2

  Tymber Dalton

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  GOOD WILL GHOST HUNTING: HELL’S BELLS

  Copyright © 2012 by Tymber Dalton

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-61926-884-5

  First E-book Publication: August 2012

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  DEDICATION

  For Hubby.

  GOOD WILL GHOST HUNTING: HELL’S BELLS

  Good Will Ghost Hunting 2

  TYMBER DALTON

  Copyright © 2012

  Prologue

  The dark and crazy days…

  Two of the three men spent hours gathering the stones they needed for their grisly duty. The fact that only one could leave at a time complicated matters.

  Right now it was Aidan’s turn to stay. He sat cross-legged on the ground behind his soul brother, Amiago, and kept his hand on the man’s shoulder. Ami had refused to speak other than grief-filled bouts of screaming, punctuated by heart-rending sobs. When he wasn’t doing that, he sat there softly humming the special little tune he used to hum to Chloe.

  On the ground before him lay the linen shroud encasing her body.

  Chloe. Amiago’s soul mate.

  Aidan stared at the row of stitching along the side, put there by his own hand. His sweet baby sister…

  He closed his eyes and tried to hold back his own grief. Ami needed him now, needed his strength. Ami’s wounds were far from healed, but the worst of the bleeding had ceased since the binding ceremony Hades performed that joined the three men, allowing Ami to draw from their strength.

  That would hopefully keep Ami alive and help heal his body.

  Aidan suspected nothing would ever heal Ami’s soul.

  Arnau returned, his slate gray eyes nearly black with emotion. He’d lost the leather thong holding his long, dark hair, and it spilled over his shoulders. He dumped the load of stones with the others for the cairn and knelt beside the men. “How is he?” he asked Aidan.

  Amiago wouldn’t look at either of them, just stared at the bundle on the ground before him.

  Aidan shook his head.

  Arnau changed position, placing his hand on Amiago’s other shoulder. As Aidan moved, Arnau took his place. “Should we summon Hades back?” Arnau asked. Amiago’s father had come and gone three hours earlier.

  Aidan sighed. “I don’t think it would do any good. He’s done all he can.” He choked back a sob as he stared into Amiago’s face. At least sitting behind him he didn’t have to view the full force of the other man’s grief. Now not just his brother-in-law, but his soul brother, after Hades bound both him and Arnau to Amiago in an attempt to save Amiago’s life.

  Amiago looked as dead as his soul mate on the ground before them.

  Arnau scooted closer to Amiago and slipped his other arm around the man’s waist, supporting him, sending him strength.

  “Thank you, cousin,” Aidan said. “For doing this for us.” Arnau was far younger than him and Amiago, barely a hundred years old yet. Pure-blooded, he was probably the strongest archdemon available for this task.

  Keeping Amiago alive.

  Keeping Aidan alive as well. If his baby sister wasn’t alive, life wasn’t really worth living.

  Arnau managed a slight smile. “It’s all right. I’m sorry we had not met before this, or under more pleasant circumstances.”

  “As am I.” Aidan turned to go, forcing his eyes away from the grim tableau.

  * * * *

  Aidan swung the sword, neatly lopping off the giant serpent’s head.

  “Aha!” He turned to the two men sitting on the nearby rocks. “And you said I couldn’t do it!”

  Amiago smiled, but it was a ghost of the broad, beaming expression that used to fill his face with sunshine and laughter. It didn’t even reach his green eyes, which looked dull in comparison to how brightly they used to shine.
He pointed behind Aidan. “Not quite finished yet, I should think.”

  Aidan turned and immediately raised his sword. Another head had sprouted from the stump of the first. “Gods! I thought you said”—he swung, taking the new head off—“that decapitating it would kill it!”

  Arnau looked on with amusement, his slate gray eyes twinkling. “No, he specifically said you had to impale the head through the top, then decapitate it.”

  Aidan rolled his eyes as a new head sprouted. He stood ready. “How am I supposed to do that when I only have one sword?”

  Arnau reached behind him and smoothly drew his from the weathered leather scabbard strapped to his back. “Let me know when you’re ready. I’ll toss you mine.”

  Aidan dodged the serpent’s attack, then pinned the head to the ground. “Now!” He spun around, reaching out for the sword. The hilt landed neatly in his palm and he completed his spin, landing a severing blow to the creature’s neck.

  An unholy shriek filled the air as the black and green monster shivered, then fell still. No more heads erupted from the stump.

  Aidan took a deep breath and stepped back with a grin, exceedingly pleased with himself. “There!”

  Applause erupted from the other two men. Arnau pushed himself up and walked over, taking back his sword. After he wiped it clean on the grass he sheathed it. “Excellent. Took you long enough though.” He playfully smiled as he said it.

  “To home with you,” Aidan shot back as he yanked his sword free, also wiping it on the grass. Then he turned to where Amiago still perched on the rocks. “You were less than helpful.”

  Ami shrugged and walked over. “I had every faith in you, brother. You are a skilled warrior. I certainly wouldn’t wish to anger you.” His quiet voice bore no semblance to the man he’d been, before their world was shattered. Fifty years later and he still looked nearly as sad as he had that day. He never laughed, something unheard of before when their home had been filled with joy.

  Before Chloe’s murder.

  * * * *

  Aidan, Arnau, and Amiago joined hands as they walked through the barrier opened by Hades and crossed over to Tavares. As expected, they immediately encountered the band of s’Galth warriors that had crossed on-Earth and invaded the village, killing most of the inhabitants.

  As one, the three men drew their swords and stepped together, back to back, their familiar pattern. They would fight as one.

  “Gentlemen,” Aidan said to the s’Galth, “it is a great day for you to die.” Arnau couldn’t see Aidan’s face but knew the man’s usually kind eyes had transformed from amber to dark brown, matching the tiger’s-eye amulet around his neck. Aidan didn’t live to fight. He thrived on it in some ways, an easy outlet for his grief and rage that still lingered even two hundred years after Chloe’s murder.

  The reptilian beasts walked on two legs and carried primitive clubs that were no match for the archdemons’ swords. Still, that didn’t stop the marauders from attacking the three men.

  Amiago struck the first blow, decapitating one. “Brothers, they have sealed their fate,” he said.

  Arnau took another one out. “Agreed.”

  After a couple of minutes, Aidan stepped away from the other two men and let his nature and instincts take over. Three s’Galth warriors immediately fell under Aidan’s blade. As another attempted to attack him, he spun and decapitated it, howling with rage as the beast’s head went flying.

  Amiago didn’t need to look to know what that sound meant. “And there he goes,” he said.

  Arnau agreed. “He’s in his element.”

  By the time the fighting ended, the thirty s’Galth lay dead around them. Aidan stood among the carnage, wild-eyed and sword raised, studying the bodies, looking for any signs of life. By Arnau’s best guess, Aidan had slain two thirds of the monsters himself.

  Arnau and Amiago shared a glance. Ami slowly walked toward Aidan, one hand outstretched. “It’s all right, brother,” he soothed. “It’s finished. We’re done here.”

  Aidan trembled as his eyes shifted back to amber and tears slid down his face. He sank to his knees, sobbing in anguish as the other men surrounded and embraced him.

  Later that night, after they’d returned on-Earth and Aidan was asleep by the fire, Arnau pulled Amiago aside to talk.

  “This is not good for him,” Arnau said. “Each battle, perhaps it’s good for his grief, but it is killing him inside at the same time.”

  Shadows cast by the fire flickered across Ami’s face. “I know,” he softly agreed.

  “Every time, it’s as if a rage takes him over, and then a sorrow just as strong fills his soul. He may be a skilled warrior, but he does not possess a warrior’s heart and soul.” Arnau pulled the leather thong from his hair so he could rebind it. “This is killing his soul, every battle. He is not made of the right substance to be an Enforcer. He should be a Protector.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Ami angrily growled. “This was not my idea! Father is the one who assigned us these roles.” He took a deep breath to calm himself. No, he knew damn well Aidan should never have been made an Enforcer even though his unfettered grief, when set loose in combat, made him invincible.

  Arnau examined a cut in his tunic. One of the s’Galth had drawn a flint knife and sliced him with it. A minor wound almost completely healed already, but he’d ruined a practically new garment. “I was thinking we could make a request of Hades. I’ve heard there’s an archdemon, Tosko, he could be trained. From what I hear he has the substance to be an Enforcer. We could be Protectors.” Two had recently been killed while attempting to save the villagers, the very act they had today avenged by wiping out the raiding s’Galth band.

  Amiago leaned back against a rock, his fingers laced together behind his head. “It never hurts to ask. Although it will be difficult to convince Father that the most valuable and efficient Enforcer he’s ever had isn’t cut out to be one.”

  “He cannot be that coldhearted.”

  “You don’t know my father. This is Hades we are speaking of, need I remind you. He is not one known for chivalry or compassion, only for the efficient execution of his duties.”

  They sat there in silence for many minutes, watching Aidan sleep. They knew his dreams constantly troubled him, especially his ones of Chloe. He always had them after a fight like today.

  “This is killing him one battle at a time,” Arnau softly said. “Every victory exacts a vicious price upon his soul. Is it really worth darkening him in that way?” His gray eyes deepened in color. “He’s a good man. A kind man. He should not be forced to do this.”

  “No arguments from me.” Amiago stood and stretched. “Well, I suppose I should go speak to Father.” He disappeared.

  Arnau returned to the fire and tried to sleep, tried to ignore Aidan’s plaintive noises, the crying in his sleep.

  The glisten of tears on the other man’s cheeks.

  Chapter One

  The here and now…

  “Oh, yeah! I love that!” Kalyani Martin tipped her head for a better look while Jeff made an adjustment.

  “Mmm, that’s even better, honey,” she said.

  Jeff nodded. After another flick of his finger, Kal grinned. “Ah! You’ve got it!”

  “You like that?” he asked.

  She nodded and gave him a one-armed hug. “The boys will probably grump and groan, but I love it. You’re incredible.”

  Kal ogled Jeff Conrad’s computer monitor. They were staring at the publicity shot of Will Hellenboek and his cousin, Aidan Faust, for the cover of the first issue of the Otherworlds Explorations magazine. Jeff’s expertise with the photo software had turned a good shot into a great one. The photographer had managed to coax a brooding, serious look out of Will, which was no small feat considering how he nearly always smiled now. Will’s slate gray eyes appeared sharp and piercing in the photo, as if looking directly at the viewer. Aidan’s amber eyes always sweetened his face, his cute cockeyed smile a good balanc
e to Will’s expression.

  Jeff blushed and smiled at the compliment. In just a few weeks he and Kal had gone from being resentful of each other, after years of their fathers trying to shove them together as a couple, to being fast friends. Partly because Kal was now the soul mate and fiancée of Will Hellenboek, The Firm’s strongest archdemon, and partly because Jeff had climbed out of the closet and shut the door firmly behind him.

  Aidan walked into the office and rested his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. “What are you two—oh.”

  Kal looked at Aidan. “You stay out of this.”

  “It’s my ugly mug you’re working with and I don’t get a say?”

  Jeff patted one of Aidan’s hands and left his covering it. “I don’t think your mug is ugly.”

  He leaned down and kissed the top of Jeff’s head. “That’s because you’re biased, sugar.”

  Kal smiled. “Well, I don’t think your mug is ugly either. Although your clothes are atrocious.”

  “I’m working on that,” Jeff said with a playful smirk.

  Aidan looked down his nose at her, his honey-hazel eyes blazing. “Sweet cheeks, we talked about this. Jokes about the duds are off-limits. It’s my image.” Aidan perpetually looked like he needed a haircut, his scruffy blond hair a little on the long side. Combined with a penchant for wild, eye-watering Hawaiian tropical print shirts and his lean, lanky build, he looked a little like a surfer dude.