But Ferrets Can Never Hurt Me Read online

  But Ferrets Can Never Hurt Me

  An Alfie Wimple Adventure Book 2

  Nhys Glover

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. With the exception of historical events and people used as background for the story, or those clearly in the public domain, the names, characters and incidents portrayed in this work come wholly from the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental

  Published by Belisama Press

  © Nhys Glover 2018

  The right of Nhys Glover to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This book is copyright. All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please delete it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  OTHER BOOKS BY NHYS GLOVER

  ANCIENT ROMAN HISTORICAL ROMANCES:

  Liquid Fire

  The Barbarian's Mistress

  Lionslayer's Woman (Sequel to Liquid Fire)

  White Raven's Lover (Sequel to Barbarian's Mistress)

  The Gladiator's Bride (Sequel to White Raven's Lover)

  WEREWOLF KEEP TRILOGY:

  Guardian of Werewolf Keep

  Imprisoned at Werewolf Keep

  Defiance at Werewolf Keep

  Insane (A novella)

  NEW ATLANTIS TIME TRAVEL SERIES:

  Nine Lives (Cara/Jac)

  The Dreamer's Prince (Jane/Julio)

  Savage (Faith/ Luke)

  Shared Soul (Maggie/Travis)

  Bitter Oath (Liv/ Rene)

  The Titan Drowns (Eilish/Max, Karl/Lizzie, Pia/Marco)

  The Key (Kat/Bart)

  Pieces (Krista/Dirk)

  Second Chance (Bree/Hakon)

  Watcher (Jin/Rafe)

  Vision of You (Ellen/Duke)

  Osiris (Takhara/Dan)

  Causality (Willow/Jarvidh)

  Gods of Time (Teagan/Jason, Lucien/Alba)

  Book of Seeds (Shay/Cy)

  SCORPIO SONS SF/SHIFTER ROMANCE SERIES:

  1: Colton 2: Connor 3: Cooper 4: Chase

  5: Cameron 6: Caleb 7: Conrad 8: Charles

  REVERSE HAREM ADVENTURES:

  THE AIRLUDS TRILOGY:

  The Sacrifice

  The Chosen One

  Goddess Unbound

  THE AIRSHAN CHRONICLES

  The Five

  Daemon

  The Devourer

  GLADIATOR

  1. Typhon 2.Asterius 3. Talos 4.Orion 5.Marcus

  Captive: An Alien Abduction RH Romantic Adventure

  OTHERS:

  The Way Home (Ghost Romance)

  Caught in a Dream (SF Sweet Romance)

  Labyrinth of Light (New Age Inspirational)

  For Love of Liam (A Sweet Romanic Comedy)

  Find out more about Nhys and her books here:

  www.nhysglover.com

  Chapter One

  I wandered into the kitchen in search of some sign I wasn’t alone in the house. Being alone had never been a problem for me, even though as far as the world was concerned I’d lived by myself in the sixteen-bedroom Grade 1 listed historical property called Ahman Hall for the last four or so years. Since my parents died, in fact.

  In reality, I’d never been alone in my home in the Yorkshire Dales. I had my feisty half-feral cat, Percy; a pesky ferret called Fred; and my dead Aunt Daphne. And until yesterday, an ancient wolf-hound called Rex, who I considered more of a dad to me than my human father had ever been. But now Rex was gone, killed by a would-be intruder, the third casualty in this undeclared war I was fighting against unseen forces.

  The first casualty had been Percy, intentionally run over by the same man who killed Rex. Next had been my old mini, a rusted-out classic, which had still been soldiering on despite everything. Until William Watkins set it alight in my driveway. Now I was partially stranded until the pitiful insurance paid out.

  Most people wouldn’t consider the old rattle-trap any great loss. Just as some might not see Rex, given his age and infirmities, much of a loss either. But they weren’t me. To me, their loss was incalculable.

  But as far as being more alone was concerned, I was no closer to being alone after their loss than I was before. Because, in the last week, I’d gathered to me several living people, one annoying pest of a dead person, and one big, black Ducati motorcycle. The latter belonged to the man who now lived with me. No, not that kind of living with me. The house guest kind of living with me, despite the one impossibly wonderful kiss we’d shared the night before.

  “Where is everybody!” I yelled, hearing the echo of my voice in the empty corridors of the hall.

  The cavernous sound was exaggerated by the fact that most of the rooms were empty and uncarpeted. It was hell to keep warm in winter. But it was summer now, and a lovely warm one for a change, so the rooms were not nearly as chilly as they could be.

  My hippie dippy aunt, who’d died on an LSD trip in 1969, suddenly appeared.

  “We’re all in the secret chamber,” Daphne informed me. “Even Squib.”

  That surprised me. Not the fact the unwelcome ghost in my flock was in the secret chamber. After all, he did follow Jake around, trying to drive him insane. No, I was more surprised that Percy and Fred were in the secret chamber as well. Because of their penchant for mischief and destruction, they put the room at risk. It was a rare and valuable piece of history, with its gorgeous prehistoric mother goddess statue, and artwork covering stone walls and ceiling. Causing any kind of damage to it would be sacrilege.

  “What are the Despicable Duo doing down there?” I asked curiously.

  Usually my pets stuck close to me, especially since witnessing Rex’s death the day before. But for the last few hours I’d been curled up in the solar window-seat reading a section of my ancestor’s journal. They’d become bored and wandered out some time ago and not returned.

  “Bryce is keeping them out of trouble as Jake sets up electric lights down there.”

  When we’d discovered the secret chamber yesterday—was it only yesterday? It felt like weeks ago—we’d used first a high-powered torch and then two old kero lanterns to illuminate the incredible pagan room. But the smoke from the lanterns would eventually damage the artwork, so Jake had offered to set up an electric alternative. He’d rummaged around in the garage and found an extension cord and a light stand.

  With young Bryce’s help, the plan was to string the cord along the wall leading down into the bowels of the house for the free-standing lamp.

  Why was Mason down there as well? Making sure Jake, the barbarian, didn’t damage anything as he did his job? If that was the case, it would drive Jake even more crazy than he already was, thanks to Squib his ghostly albatross.

  “Don’t worry, your lovers haven’t come to blows yet. I’m keeping an eye on them,” Daphne said, an impish smile on her beautiful young face.

  She’d been a wild, flower child back in her day, complete with real flowers in her long blonde hair, and Boho flowy dresses. I’d never even seen her wear shoes. Which probably wasn’t as much of a problem for a ghost as it was for her living niece, whose feet got cold even in summer.

  “I have no lovers,” I snapped back a little more heatedly than I should.

  Like feeding a stray cat, rising to my aunt’s bait would only encourage her
. Having witnessed Mason kissing me this morning on the front step, and a few tender moments with Jake—I didn’t think she’d been in my room last night for the kiss—she’d decided both men were my lovers.

  It was ridiculous. I was a twenty-four-year-old, overweight virgin. Jake had been the first to admit I wasn’t his type. Because he was a surprisingly kind enforcer for a crime boss in Leeds, he’d explained rather sweetly that that didn’t mean I wasn’t beautiful in my own way. It was just that I wasn’t his kind of beautiful.

  Mason Smart was probably closer to what most people would consider my type. He was a nice-looking Cambridge University professor of Celtic Pre-history. He’d come to my door a few days ago, asking for permission to look at the standing stone on my property. It was he who had led the way down the rabbit hole I was now unavoidably travelling.

  But though Mason had shown an interest in me, and even kissed me quite passionately to prove a point this morning, his narrow, obsessed focus on the Past didn’t allow for any romance in the present. The fact he considered me ‘troubled’ by delusions didn’t help my cause any either. No matter that my aunt’s ghost had led us to the secret chamber. Or that both Jake and I heard her and Squib. Mason stubbornly held to the belief that it was just a hoax perpetrated by Jake so he could marry me and steal my money.

  “Give them time, my dear. They’ll be your lovers eventually.”

  “Is that a prediction from the other side?” I asked snarkily.

  My aunt, who looked about the same age as me, lifted her nose and sniffed. “You can scoff about my predictive abilities all you like, but I know men. And those two are like randy stallions who’ve scented a mare in season. They’ll fight to the death to be the one to mount you.”

  Groaning, I headed for the servants’ staircase and the hidden stairs that led down to the secret chamber. “If you say something like that in front of Jake and Mason I will kill you.”

  Her trill of laughter filled the air. “Sorry dear, that ship has sailed. But no, I will not embarrass you by suggesting you’re a mare in need of mounting. I’m on your side, remember?”

  “Sometimes I do forget,” I sniped dryly.

  As I started down the wooden steps I noticed the way forward was illuminated. On the wall, along with the extension cord, were temporary work lights lit up the steep stairs. Where had Jake found them?

  It certainly made the journey easier. By the time I reached the stone steps carved into the bedrock beneath the house, I was impressed.

  Voices floated up to me. The most insistent and annoying was Squib’s. He was telling Jake he should stick to beating people up for a living, because he was a useless handyman.

  The little man was a constant burr in Jake’s saddle. He claimed he did it to punish Jake for killing him. But really, Squib—who’d been a petty criminal with a bad gambling habit—had died of fright when Jake had come to collect the debts he owed.

  While he continued his tirade, the other male voices carried on as if they didn’t hear him. Because they didn’t. Only Jake heard him.

  “Is that the brightest bulb you could find?” Mason was harping, his tone almost as annoying as Squib’s. “It doesn’t do the job. I can’t see the details in the paintings well enough.”

  “Take digital photos with a flash,” Bryce suggested.

  For a young teenager, Bryce was surprisingly wise. Agnes called him wise beyond his years. I agreed. Except when he kept insisting I should call up his dead parents for him. It didn’t matter how many times I explained that my paranormal abilities didn’t mean I worked at an After-Life telephone exchange. I couldn’t just call up any dead person and bring them through.

  In my weird imagination, I saw myself sitting at an old-fashioned switchboard plugging in a line saying, ‘Hello, Hellooo, is this the Other Side? Can you please put me through to...’

  No, definitely not me.

  From the way Mason grumbled an answer to the camera suggestion, I knew he’d considered this option. “The nuances are missing in a photo.”

  As an artist, I understood what he meant. Seeing the original was so much more moving than looking at a copy of a work of art. But I didn’t think Mason was interested in the emotional impact of the work. It was all about the content for him. He’d explained over lunch that the book we found in the chamber, called Logos, was designed as a textual accompaniment to the artwork. Each scene, even the starry sky above, had educational significance.

  “Shut the fuck up!” Jake bellowed, having reached the end of his tether with both Mason and Squib.

  A person with less self-confidence—someone like me—would have been beaten down by this constant criticism. For Jake, they were just insults, and he didn’t allow anyone to get away with insulting him. His dangerous persona was what kept him safe. Which was why he’d told me I was bad for him, making him soft as I did.

  The explosion had the desired effect. The secret chamber fell into uncomfortable silence. It wasn’t like Squib to obey such an order.

  As I entered the room, I noted the ghost was no longer there. Jake was on the black polished floor with Fred’s inquisitive nose pressed against his. After a moment’s confusion, I realised what must have happened. Jake had dived at Squib at the same time he yelled, making contact with the ghost and short-circuiting him.

  When ghosts came in to contact with living people, they slipped out of faze with our level of reality for a while and couldn’t interact with it. For the human, there was also a price to pay. They felt sick. And that was what was happening to Jake as he lay there on the cold stone floor. He was dealing with the nausea.

  For Mason and Bryce, the scene must have appeared quite bizarre. The big man had yelled and dived to the floor for no apparent reason. Maybe they thought it was a PTSD flashback or something.

  “Got too much for you, did he?” I commiserated, smiling down at Jake, who now had Percy rubbing his back along his cheek, butt in Fred’s face. The one-upmanship between my pets was notorious.

  Fred, undaunted, bit Percy’s tail. The cat screeched and took off up the stairs. Looking devilishly pleased with himself, Fred followed his nemesis’ progress with beady little eyes.

  I picked the ferret up by the scruff of the neck and scowled my displeasure at him. “How many times do I have to tell you that Percy isn’t fully recovered from his injuries yet? Running off like that will probably pull his stitches open. I don’t have the money for another vet visit,” I told him, as if he could understand every word.

  While I was berating my troublesome pet, Jake rose from the floor, brushing himself off.

  “He was the easiest annoyance to get rid of,” Jake said, answering my question.

  I looked over at Mason, who was staring at Jake as if he’d gone crazy. As always, I felt the need to explain what had happened to those not able to perceive the paranormal.

  “While you were complaining about the light, Squib was complaining about... well, everything. Jake isn’t a patient man. He dived at Squib to make contact, so the ghost was forced to disappear.”

  Mason’s mouth dropped open, completely lost for words.

  “That was awesome. Did you ever play football? That was like watching a player diving for the goal-line,” Bryce enthused, his voice breaking a little.

  I smothered a snigger, while Fred squirmed to be put down. Instead of giving in to his non-verbal request, I tucked him closer to my side. This was his punishment. Maybe it wasn’t much of one, but there had to be consequences.

  “No,” Jake answered, looking a little uncomfortable.

  “Not even at school?” Bryce persisted, not picking up that Jake didn’t want to have this conversation.

  “Didn’t go to school much,” he muttered, going back to the job of placing the light stand in the middle of the room and affixing the cord to the floor with duct-tape. It was dangerous, having a cord running across the floor, but at least if it was properly stuck down someone wouldn’t get their toe under it and fall.

  Of cour
se, Jake would probably be happy if Mason took a fall. But he couldn’t risk either Bryce or I taking a tumble.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go to school. It’s so boring! I’m leaving as soon as I’m old enough, I don’t care what Gran says.”

  “Get an education, lad. I would’ve killed to stay at school,” Jake muttered, trying to ignore all of us.

  “Why didn’t you?”

  The boy wouldn’t let it go. I searched my brain for a way to change the subject.

  “Schools don’t want trouble-makers,” Mason put in smugly.

  I could have hit him. Really, why did he have to keep digging at Jake? We were all supposed to be on the same side.

  Jake sent Mason a savage glare as he answered Bryce through gritted teeth. “When you live rough you don’t have time for school. Be grateful your gran took you in. Not everyone’s as lucky.”

  Bryce’s mouth fell open, and Mason even seemed a little chagrined by this insight into Jake’s early life.

  “I bet the streets are better than foster care or a group home,” Bryce said, as if he’d considered these options himself.

  Had there been a time, after his mother died of an overdose, when he and his sister Danielle had ended up in a home? I didn’t know a lot about that period of his life. All he’d said was they’d lived in Bradford before his mother died and only moved out to Wiggleswick to live with their grandmother a year ago. I’d assumed the changeover had been immediate.

  “I thought so at the time,” Jake replied, his voice like steel.

  Even Bryce knew he’d pushed the limit of the subject by then. He took Fred from my arms and headed for the doorway. “I’ll go see if I can find a brighter bulb in the garage.”