All Hallows Eve: A Krewe of Hunters Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (13 page)

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1001 Dark Nights

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WICKED WOLF
by Carrie Ann Ryan

A Redwood Pack Novella

WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING
by Heather Graham

A Krewe of Hunters Novella

EASY WITH YOU
by Kristen Proby

A With Me In Seattle Novella

MASTER OF FREEDOM
by Cherise Sinclair

A Mountain Masters Novella

CARESS OF PLEASURE
by Julie Kenner

A Dark Pleasures Novella

ADORED
by Lexi Blake

A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

HADES
by Larissa Ione

A Demonica Novella

RAVAGED
by Elisabeth Naughton

An Eternal Guardians Novella

DREAM OF YOU
by Jennifer L. Armentrout

A Wait For You Novella

STRIPPED DOWN
by Lorelei James

A Blacktop Cowboys ® Novella

RAGE/KILLIAN
by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright

Bayou Heat Novellas

DRAGON KING
by Donna Grant

A Dark Kings Novella

PURE WICKED
by Shayla Black

A Wicked Lovers Novella

HARD AS STEEL
by Laura Kaye

A Hard Ink/Raven Riders Crossover

STROKE OF MIDNIGHT
by Lara Adrian

A Midnight Breed Novella

ALL HALLOWS EVE
by Heather Graham

A Krewe of Hunters Novella

KISS THE FLAME
by Christopher Rice

A Desire Exchange Novella

DARING HER LOVE
by Melissa Foster

A Bradens Novella

TEASED
by Rebecca Zanetti

A Dark Protectors Novella

THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER
by Liliana Hart

A MacKenzie Family Novella

FOREVER WICKED
by Shayla Black

A Wicked Lovers Novella

CRIMSON TWILIGHT
by Heather Graham

A Krewe of Hunters Novella

CAPTURED IN SURRENDER
by Liliana Hart

A MacKenzie Family Novella

SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING
by Tina Folsom

A Scanguards Vampire Novella

DUNGEON GAMES
by Lexi Blake

A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

AZAGOTH
by Larissa Ione

A Demonica Novella

NEED YOU NOW
by Lisa Renee Jones

A Shattered Promises Series Prelude

SHOW ME, BABY
by Cherise Sinclair

A Masters of the Shadowlands Novella

ROPED IN
by Lorelei James

A Blacktop Cowboys ® Novella

TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT
by Lara Adrian

A Midnight Breed Novella

THE FLAME
by Christopher Rice

A Desire Exchange Novella

CARESS OF DARKNESS
by Julie Kenner

A Dark Pleasures Novella

Also from Evil Eye Concepts:

TAME ME
by J. Kenner

A Stark International Novella

THE SURRENDER GATE
By Christopher Rice

A Desire Exchange Novel

SERVICING THE TARGET
By Cherise Sinclair

A Masters of the Shadowlands Novel

Bundles:

BUNDLE ONE

Includes:

Forever Wicked by Shayla Black

Crimson Twilight by Heather Graham

Captured in Surrender by Liliana Hart

Silent Bite by Tina Folsom

BUNDLE TWO

Includes:

Dungeon Games by Lexi Blake

Azagoth by Larissa Ione

Need You Now by Lisa Renee Jones

Show My, Baby by Cherise Sinclair

BUNDLE THREE

Includes:

Roped In by Lorelei James

Tempted By Midnight by Lara Adrian

The Flame by Christopher Rice

Caress of Darkness by Julie Kenner

When Irish Eyes Are Haunting

A Krewe of Hunters Novella

By Heather Graham

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Devin Lyle and Craig Rockwell are back, this time to a haunted castle in Ireland where a banshee may have gone wild—or maybe there’s a much more rational explanation—one that involves a disgruntled heir, murder, and mayhem, all with that sexy light touch Heather Graham has turned into her trademark style.

* * * *

Chapter One

“Ah, you can hear it in the wind, you can, the mournful cry of the banshee!” Gary Duffy—known as Gary the Ghost—exclaimed with wide eyes, his tone low, husky and haunting along with the sound of the crackling fire. “It’s a cry so mournful and so deep, you can feel it down into your bones. Indeed. Some say she’s the spirit of a woman long gone who’s lost everyone dear in her life; some say she is one of the fairy folk. Some believe she is a death ghost, and come not to do ill, but to ease the way of the dying, those leaving this world to enter the next. However she is known, her cry is a warning that ‘tis time for a man to put his affairs in order, and kiss his loved ones good-bye, before taking that final journey that is the fate of all men. And women,” he added, looking around at his audience. “Ah, and believe me! At Castle Karney, she’s moaned and cried many a time, many a time!”

Yes! Just recently
, Devin Lyle thought.

Very recently.

Gary spoke well; he was an excellent storyteller, more of a performer than a guide. He had a light and beautiful brogue that seemed to enhance his words as well and an ability to speak with a deep tone that carried, yet still seemed to be something of a whisper.

All in the tour group were enthralled as they watched him—even the youngest children in the group were silent.

But then, beyond Gary’s talents, the night—offering a nearly full moon and a strange, shimmering silver fog—lent itself to storytelling and ghostly yarns. As did the lovely and haunting location where Gary spun his tales.

The group sat around a campfire that burned in an ancient pit outside the great walls of Castle Karney, halfway between those walls and St. Patrick’s of the Village—the equally ancient church of Karney, said to have been built soon after the death of Ireland’s patron saint. A massive graveyard surrounded the church; the Celtic crosses, angels, cherubs, and more, seemed to glow softly in a surreal shade of pearl beneath the moon. That great orb itself was stunning, granting light and yet shrouded in the mist that shimmered over the graveyard, the castle walls, and down to embrace the fire itself—and Gary the Ghost—in surreal and hypnotic beauty.

Gary’s tour was thorough.

They’d already visited the castle courtyard, the cliffs, the church, and the graveyard, learning history and legends along the way.

The fire pit they now gathered around had been used often in the centuries that came before—many an attacking lord or general had based his army here, just outside the walls. They had cooked here, burned tar here for assaults, and stood in the light and warmth of the blaze to stare at the castle walls and dream of breeching them.

The walls were over ten feet thick. An intrepid Karney—alive at the time of William the Conqueror—had seen to it that the family holding was shored up with brick and stone.

“The night is still now,” Gary said, his voice low and rich. “But listen if you will when the wind races across the Irish Sea. And you’ll hear the echo of her wail, on special nights, aye, the heart-wrenching cry of the banshee!”

Gary—Devin knew from her cousin, Kelly—was now the full-time historian, curator, and tour director at Castle Karney. She’d learned a lot from him, but, naturally, she’d known a lot already from family lore. Kelly Karney was her cousin and Devin had been to Castle Karney once before.

The Karney family had held title to the property since the time of St. Patrick. Despite bloodshed and wars, and multiple invasions first by Vikings and then British monarchs, they’d held tenaciously to the property. So tenaciously that fifteen years ago—to afford the massive property along with repairs and taxes—they had turned it into a fashionable bed and breakfast, touted far and wide on tourist sites as a true experience as well as a vacation.

Gary, with his wonderful ability to weave a tale, was part of the allure—as if staying in a castle with foundations and a great hall begun in the early part of the fifth century was not enough!

But Gary had gained fame in international guidebooks. While the Karney family had employed him first for the guests of the B&B, they’d always opened the tours to visitors who came to the village and stayed anywhere there—or just stopped by for the tour.

“Indeed! Here, where the great cliffs protected the lords of Karney from any assault by the Irish Sea, where the great walls stood tall against the slings, rams, arrows, and even canon of the enemy, the banshees wail is known to be heard. Throughout the years, ‘twas heard each night before the death of the master of the house. Sometimes, they say, she cried to help an elderly lord make his way to the great castle in the sky. Yet she may cry for all, and has cast her mournful wail into the air for many a Karney, master or no. Saddest still, was the wailing of the banshee the night before the English knight, Sir Barry Martin, burst in to kidnap the Lady Brianna. He made his way through their primitive sewer lines of the day, thinking the castle would fall if he but held her, for she was a rare beauty and beloved of Declan, master of Karney Castle. Sir Martin made his way to the master’s chambers, where he took the lady of the house, but Declan came upon him. Holding the Lady Brianna before Declan, Sir Martin slew her with his knife. In turn, Lord Declan rushed Sir Martin, and died himself upon the same knife—but not until he’d skewered Sir Martin through with his sword! It was a sad travesty of love and desire, for it was said Sir Martin coveted the Lady Brianna for himself, even as he swore to his men it was a way to breech the castle walls. While that left just a wee babe as heir, the castle stood, for Declan’s mighty steward saw to it that the men fought on, rallying in their master’s name. Aye, and when you hear the wind blow in now—like the high, crying wail of the banshee—they say you can see Brianna and her beloved. Karney’s most famous ghosts are said to haunt the main tower. Through the years, they’ve been seen, Brianna and her Declan—separately, so they say, ever trying to reach one another and still stopped by the evil spirit of Sir Barry Martin!”

There was a gasp in the crowd. A pretty young woman turned to the young man at her side. “Oh! We’re staying at Karney Castle!” she said. “And the main hall is just so hauntingly—haunted!”

“Ahha!” Gary said, smiling. “Hauntingly haunted! Aye, that it is!”

“We’re staying there, too!” said an older woman.

“Ah, well, then, a number of you are lucky enough to be staying at the castle,” Gary said. “Ten rooms and suites she lets out a night! Be sure to listen—and keep good watch. Maybe you’ll see or hear a ghost—there are many more, of course. It’s been a hard and vicious history, you know. Of course, you need not worry if ya be afraid of ghosts—while the main tower is most known to be haunted, Brianna tends to roam the halls of the second floor, and that’s where only the family stays.”

Devin felt a hand on her shoulder and heard a gentle whisper at her ear. “You, my love. Have you seen Brianna?”

It was Rocky—Craig Rockwell, the love of her life, seated by her side, their knees touching. And it was the kind of whisper that made her feel a sweet warmth sear through her, teasing her senses.

Rocky was her husband of three days.

But though she smiled, she didn’t let the sensual tease streak as far as it might. Oddly enough, his question was serious; partially because they were staying in the old master’s suite, since they were family, through marriage—Rocky, through her. Devin, because her mother’s sister April had long ago married Seamus Karney, youngest brother of the Karney family.

His question was also partially serious because they were who they were themselves—and what they did for a living, rather strange work, really, because it was the kind that could never be left behind.

She and Rocky had been together since a bizarre series of murders in Salem. Devin owned a cottage there, inherited from a beloved great aunt. Rocky had grown up in nearby Marblehead and had—technically—been part of the case since he’d been in high school. As an adult, he’d also been part of the FBI—and then part of an elite unit within the FBI, the Krewe of Hunters.

Devin had been—and still was—a creator of children’s books. But, she’d found herself part of the case as well, nearly a victim.

Somehow, in the midst of it all, they’d grown closer and closer—despite a somewhat hostile beginning. As they’d found their own lives in danger, they’d discovered that their natural physical attraction began to grow—and then they found they desperately loved one another and were, in many ways, a perfect match. Not perfect—nothing was perfect. But she loved Rocky and knew that he loved her with an equal passion and devotion.

That was
, she thought,
as perfect as life could ever get
.

And, she’d discovered, she was a “just about as perfect as you were going to get” candidate for being a part of the Krewe as well. That had meant nearly half a year—pretty grueling for her, really—in the FBI Academy, but she’d come through and now she was very grateful.