A Ghostly Ménage

Chapter Three

The books weren’t as boring as Jenna expected. Dinner eaten, dishes washed, and the lights dimmed, except for the one by the wing chair, she settled down to read.

The Wolfgang’s had a long history with the town, starting back in the seventeen hundreds when the first Wolfgang had settled in the area and built his home-a single room structure that had grown over the years. In 1871, a fire burned down that original house and they’d replaced it with the home she lived in now.

However, the house, while historically imbued, was nothing compared to the rumors surrounding the Wolfgang family, according to an unauthorized memoir published about twenty years ago. They were a completely male line with not a single recorded daughter ever born, and pretty much every generation, they sprouted twins. Not all that strange until you considered the fact that only the twins inherited the house, and that the pair always lived in it, even when one of them got married.

Unverified rumors by townsfolk, which the author included, claimed the brothers shared the one wife. Jenna found the idea of belonging to two men at once titillating, but it had to have been utterly shocking, especially a hundred or so years ago when puritan values held sway.

As if these allegations weren’t astounding enough, the insinuation about what the brothers were was asinine. The author claimed they were natural born werewolves.

“Werewolves!” Jenna laughed, but the sound strangled in her throat when icy fingers tickled up her neck. She whipped her head around and, of course, saw no one.

“Stupid, drafty house.” Casting a suspicious glance around her, she continued to read. The unknown author went on to claim they’d seen it themselves on a full moon. The twin brothers, who would have been the missing brothers’ great grandfather and great-uncle, had supposedly shifted into huge wolves that howled and raced through the woods.

Jenna couldn’t believe the nonsense the book contained. It was obviously a work of fiction and she was surprised the librarian had even given it to her. Yet, what about that picture in the attic of the boys with those wolves? Jenna snorted. She had to be losing her mind to even contemplate the idea that the wolves had been the boys’ daddy and uncle.

She pulled out the newspaper article with the picture of the brothers, one smiling, one not. They certainly didn’t look like animals. Although I bet they get wild in bed. The idea made her wet, something that happened a lot lately.

She spoke aloud. “So, is it true, did you share women like your ancestors supposedly did?”

A faint sound of laughter echoed around her and she jumped out of her chair.

“Is anybody there?” Again, a cold draft touched her, like the light caress of a man’s hand sliding across her neck. She could have even sworn she felt a brief hug.

“This is fucking nuts. First thing tomorrow, I am buying some silicone and filling in every crack in this house. Because there is no such thing as ghosts!” Brave words she wished her rapidly racing heart would believe.

The pages to a book she hadn’t yet touched began flipping. Jenna stared with saucer-wide eyes. “What the fuck?” Fear tightened her belly and she suddenly wished she had a cross-and maybe some holy water. The pages of the book settled and she leaned in to look at the page.

She read the heading. “Witches?” She snorted. “That’s it. Bedtime for me.” Why she spoke aloud, she didn’t know. Just like she didn’t understand why she chose to wear thick flannel jammies to bed. And she ignored the laughter she could swear tickled her ear.

There’s no such thing as ghosts.

“Bloody hell. Now what?” asked Derrick, somewhat frustrated by the thick layer of clothing Jenna had armored herself in. Even an insubstantial caress of her smooth flesh was better than nothing at all.

“Now we take a page from Great-uncle George’s book, and go dream walking.”

“Say what?” Derrick whipped around to look at his brother who had nestled himself on one side of Jenna in the bed. His insubstantial body didn’t even dent the mattress.

“Our mate is very prone to dreaming. So, I say we join her in it.”

Derrick looked at his brother with a furrowed brow. “How the fuck do we do that?”

“He explained it to me once when you were out hunting frogs. He said proximity to the dreamer helped, but basically, we need to fall asleep thinking of her, and when we start our own dream, we need to pull her in.”

“Oh that sounds easy,” drawled Derrick sarcastically, but he still lay down on Jenna’s other side. “First to dream walk gets to kiss her.”