Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Acknowledgement

  1

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  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

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  13

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  Glossary

  Thank you for reading Mack’s Rousing Ghoulish Highland Adventure!

  Books by AJ Sherwood

  Author

  Copyright Acknowledgement

  This book is a work of fiction, so please treat it like a work of fiction. Seriously. References to real people, dead people, good guys, bad guys, stupid politicians, companies, restaurants, events, products, locations, pop culture references, or wacky historical events are intended to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. Or because I wanted it in the story. Characters, names, story, location, dialogue, weird humor, and strange incidents all come from the author’s very fertile imagination and are not to be construed as real. No, I don’t believe in killing off main characters. Villains are a totally different story.

  MACK’S ROUSING GHOULISH HIGHLAND ADVENTURE

  Mack’s Marvelous Manifestations 3

  Copyright © 2021 by AJ Sherwood

  Cover by Katie Griffin

  3d rendering of all the United Kingdom countries maps and flags. Scotland flag in color by Enrique Ramos/Shutterstock; Fractal smoke swirl by Martin Capek/Shutterstock;

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Purchase only authorized editions.

  www.ajsherwood.com

  When I signed up for the FBI, I didn’t think I’d really go overseas much. Or at all. It wasn’t like I was doing spy stuff, and as a medium’s anchor, there wouldn’t be much call for us going out of the United States. I’d apparently leapt to assumptions I shouldn’t have.

  Mediums weren’t a dime a dozen. They came a lot rarer than that, and even out of that small percentage, those powerful enough to exorcise were fewer still. I’d read there were only about ten thousand mediums that could. Which was pretty insane if you thought about it.

  Mack had always been proud and a little smug he could exorcise. I now understood better just why he felt that way. It was a pretty amazing ability to have.

  But it was the main reason why Eli had called for us. She needed another person who could exorcise, and she needed someone she trusted to watch her back. Mack was very much the right person to call on both accounts. We’d already promised to do that, and I was glad to make good on that promise.

  We boarded a flight the next day, crossing the Atlantic. I was a little antsy about going as it would be the first time I’d ever left the continental US. I felt I should sleep while I could, though, as mediums kept weird hours. They were the definition of night owls sometimes. I’d learned in the first week of being with Mack to sleep whenever possible. I slept most of the flight, as did Mack. It wasn’t until the last two hours of the flight that I woke up and stayed awake. I mostly sat there lost in thought, not willing to dig something out to read and risk waking him. Mack was using me as a sort of body pillow, and he was too cute to disturb.

  I was excited to see the Eli, Booker, and Quinn again. It was good to have friends in the field, that was for sure. I wanted to spend more time with all three of them, get to know them better, and hoped this job would give us the time to do so. Last job, we were too busy running around like chickens with our heads cut off to manage hanging out much.

  Mack leaned heavily against my side. I glanced down and saw his eyes were open. “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, not budging an inch.

  He didn’t look pensive, just not completely awake yet. Mack sometimes took a minute to fully join the land of the living. He had a bit of bedhead going on despite using me as his pillow, the curls sticking up at interesting angles. It made him look mussed and sexy. Damn shame we were in a cramped plane right now, otherwise I’d be tempted to muss him some more.

  “Brandon.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I think I’m worried.”

  “About Eli?”

  “And me. And you. And Quinn and Booker. If Eli’s out here on a training session with the Scottish NCA, and she’s still calling me for help, then what does that mean? Are the people around her that unreliable? Or is the problem just that huge that she needs my help too?”

  It was a good question. And neither of us knew enough to answer it. The Scottish National Crime Agency, NCA for short, was basically the UK’s equivalent to the FBI. They had some excellent people in the organization, and I highly doubted they were subpar when it came to their paranormal division.

  “If I had to guess,” I finally said, “and it’s seriously just a guess, I think it’s more the latter. The problem is too much for that team to handle. She did say she’s bitten off more than she can chew.”

  “Yeah, but why not bring more people in from the NCA? Why call for me, when it takes a day for me to get there?”

  “Could be they’re overwhelmed by cases and they didn’t have anyone they could pull. That happens on our side of the pond, too.”

  “Ah. I didn’t think of it that way. I did Google some about Scotland yesterday. It’s hella haunted.”

  I grinned from ear to ear, delighted. “Is it really? Honey, please tell me we get to take a tour before we go home.”

  He snorted, light brown eyes sparkling in amusement as he tilted his head back to look at me. “You are such a ghost lover. Yeah, we can do that. Should I tell you when spots aren’t actually haunted?”

  “Don’t you fucking dare ruin my fun.”

  Mack snickered and snuggled his head against my shoulder again. “I bet most of them are, anyway. Scotland’s seen a lot of tragedy in its time.”

  “Truer words have not been spoken. Is the place we’re going to on the ghost tour?”

  He turned a baleful eye on me. “Didn’t you read the file?”

  “I maaaay have skimmed it. With intentions to read it better on the flight. And then forgot and packed it into the suitcase instead of the carry-on.”

  I got another side-eye for that.

  “What? We were busy getting things settled so we could leave, remember? And you were reading the file while I was driving us around.”

  “That’s true.” His judgement went down. About twenty percent. “So, we’re heading to a place called Gairloch. It’s old, first records of it are from the 1300s. It’s situated right in the Highlands, and it’s always been a stopping place for travelers.”

  I let out a low whistle. That’s a very long time for any building to be around.

  “I guess because of the location, the building has always been in use as an inn. There’s no record of it ever going out of business or being vacant. Which is a long time for a lot of activity to stir up. There’s been recent renovations, although I’m not sure of what, just that they had to do some.”

  Being around mediums had taught me that renovations usually stirred up the ghosts to no end. If the owners did any work to the place, their resident ghosts were likely screaming bloody murder most of the time.

  “What concerns me”—Mack did look a little worried about this—“is that it’s right on a river.”

  “Water,” I said with a wince. “Oh, yeah. I can see why you’re worried.”

  Water was a great conductor for spiritual energy. The more water you had, the higher the energy, like it was a generator. A lot of puzzle pieces were falling into place, and I had a much better idea now of why we were called in. “Well, Eli said it was haunted.”

  “Oh, it’s hella haunted. The file they gave us? Only three pages of that was the inn’s history and a map of the grounds. The rest of it detailed everything else they knew of the ghosts on the property.”

  I spluttered a bit. “That file was an inch thick!”

  “I know. Trust me, I know. I read it.”

  Shit on a stick. “Yeah…you know, part of me is really excited about this. But part of me goes back to what I said earlier. Eli definitely has too much activity to deal with on her own. That’s why she’s calling you in. That many ghosts, no wonder she wants backup. But it does make me curious. The place was peaceful, the ghosts obviously not really bothering people day-to-day. So why this sudden need for multiple mediums?”

  “I don’t know. File didn’t say anything about it. I realize in retrospect we should have asked a lot more questions. All she said was that they were overwhelmed and almost under siege by ghosts, which…really doesn’t explain the situation much.”

  Another thought struck. “Wait, this place is under protections, right? That old, it’s historical and all. So that means we have to be super careful with the building while we’re trying to exorcise.”

  Mack’s smile was sardonic in the extreme. “Sounds fun, right?”

  “Sounds like a damn pain in the ass.” My inner child was not happy about this. I liked breaking stuff, dammit. And putting me in a place where I wa s ghost hunting with delicate furniture all around sounded like my definition of a bad time.

  “Oh, it totally will be.” Mack passed a hand over his eyes. “It’s bad. Just thinking about this is already exhausting me. I keep remembering our last case, with all the broken glass, and the salt everywhere, and the water we had to clean up.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Our last case had been on a university’s campus, with a malevolent that had invaded a dorm building. Three stories of broken windows and furniture thrown everywhere. It hadn’t been fun to clean up. “And the case before that, we had to tear into a wall to get the ghost out. That’s…not a good track record.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  We gave each other speaking looks.

  Well. This should be interesting.

  “I’d rather be house hunting,” I told him frankly.

  Mack snorted, eyes twinkling. “Me too, cher.”

  The upside to having him properly bonded to me was that our commitment to each other was absolutely not in question. I still would like to get married, because that was the romantic in me, but I felt very solid with Mack. We’d contacted a real estate agent before the congrats-on-bonding party, told her what we were looking for, and gone through the process of being pre-approved with the bank.

  I thought Mack’s eyes were going to pop out of his head when our loan officer came back with a high six-figure number. It hadn’t surprised me any. We both made good money, after all. And I had a very healthy down payment because of the house I’d sold in Colorado, which made us look good to the bank. Still, Mack clearly hadn’t expected that much, and he might have been in a bit of sticker shock that we would need that much to afford a decent house. The housing market in Nashville and Murfreesboro was just ridiculous. It was almost bad enough to make Colorado look cheap in comparison, and that was saying something.

  We’d not talked much about what we wanted out of our new house, and that sounded more fun than me thinking about the future headache we were walking into. I settled in with him, enjoying this quiet one-on-one time while I could.

  “What do you want in our new house?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “A guest room for when family drops in would be nice.”

  “I agree. A three bedroom, two bath, I think.”

  “We don’t need three bedrooms, though.”

  “No, honey, think about the resale value. A three-bedroom house will sell all day long. We may not always be stationed in this area; we have to think ahead.”

  His brows compressed a little into a thoughtful frown. “Yeah. Yeah, I see what you mean. I would like a house with a proper dining room. When the family all gets together, we need space around the table.”

  “Yup. And a big outdoor patio would be good. For Jon.”

  “That’s a good thought, cher.” Mack pulled up his phone and started typing things into a note app. “Let’s write all this down. I feel like we didn’t say all of this to our agent.”

  “No, we basically told her an area, what our price range was, and turned her loose.” We hadn’t had enough time to do much other than that. I thought the only thing I stipulated was that it wasn’t in the country somewhere, as we wanted to be near a freeway. With all the flying in and out that we did, access to the airport was key.

  I remembered a time, not too long ago, when Mack was half-terrified I’d get fed up with him at any second and walk away. And now look at him, all cozied in with me and speaking of houses with a smile on his face. It made my heart happy that he could trust me now. That he could trust us.

  He glanced up with a quizzical expression. “What?”

  I kissed the bridge of his nose. “Just hoping we can get this over with quickly. I want to move in with you before end of summer.”

  Mack snorted. “Yeah. That’d be super nice. But I’m not saying the same, as that will surely jinx us.”

  Fair enough.

  I stared at the very apologetic airline employee in her dark blue uniform, who looked like she expected me to blow up at any second. I stared at her, and I thought, surely I didn’t hear that right. “You lost…my luggage?”

  “I’m so sorry. It was somehow labeled as a transfer. We only just realized the mistake as the plane was taxiin’ in.”

  I blinked at her, the words still computing. She lost my luggage? But…that was the only luggage I had. I hadn’t taken a carry-on with me. We’d stuffed everything into Brandon’s carry-on so we weren’t hauling more than necessary.

  Um.

  My ever-practical boyfriend was concerned but asked in his deep, low voice, “Where is it now? Can it be transferred back to us here?”

  “It can, but it’ll take several days. The problem was, when ye left the Nashville airport, it wasn’t flagged to transfer here to Scotland, but to the Narita Airport.”

  I blinked at her some more. “Narita, Japan?”

  “Aye.” She flashed another apologetic smile. “And yer luggage hasn’t actually arrived yet in Japan. We can’t even start correctin’ the problem yet. I think it’ll take at least three days to get it back here. Quite probably four.”

  We may or may not have a solved case in four days and possibly be on our way home again. Dammit. What was I supposed to do for clothes in the meantime?

  Brandon was still on his practical roll. “Can you transfer the luggage for us to pick up in Nashville?”

  “Of course. Ye don’t want it to come here?”

  Brandon looked at me, gauging my expression as he spoke. “We’re really uncertain on how long we’ll be here. I’d hate to have it come all the way here, only for us to be stuck waiting on it, and then promptly haul it back again. You’ll need to buy clothes to tide you over anyway, honey, which means another suitcase. Why have four suitcases when we don’t need them?”

  It was good logic. I couldn’t refute any of it. I did wince at the anticipated expense, though, because buying me nice clothes to last the rest of the trip would not be cheap. Not to mention a new suitcase.

  “Then I’ll direct the luggage to Nashville. We’ve given ye a hundred-dollar travel voucher as an apology for the mishap,” she said with a smile, now certain she wasn’t going to get chewed out. “Is this yer first time to Scotland?”

  “It is,” I confirmed, and what a great start it was already. I hadn’t traveled enough to really know—was losing suitcases common? Did I need to start having my own carry-on just in case?

  “Then let me direct ye a wee bit. There’s a shoppin’ center just down the way, called Eastgate Shopping Centre. Ye can catch the bus just outside, and it’ll take ye directly there.”

  Yay for good advice? Because I seriously had no idea where to go. “Thank you.”

  She gave me new baggage vouchers to use for my poor lost bag and wished us a “Madainn mhath!”

  Which I assumed meant “have a good day.”

  Or “fuck off now.” Who knew?

  I just hoped this wasn’t an omen on how this trip was going to go. This was far and away from an auspicious beginning. My first international trip and I was starting out with no luggage. Please let this be a way for all the bad luck to wear itself out now so I had good luck the rest of my time. You listening, luck fairy?

  We collected Brandon’s bags—how come his made it fine and mine got lost?—and went out the main door where, finally, I got my first look at Scotland. The airport hadn’t been all that big. We’d actually flown into London first, then transferred to another plane to make it here. It had one baggage carousel, did that tell you something? The outside was all green fields, and the blue of the water flowing nearby—picturesque indeed. And for some reason it didn’t feel like I was in a major city. Which I knew was a lie; Inverness was large. Just…didn’t feel that way.

  Brandon didn’t go for the bus stop but for the taxis lining the curb, and we hopped into one of those.

  The taxi driver turned in his seat and gave us a discerning eye, looking like an old sea captain who was retired and chose to drive taxis for some reason. All he was missing was the cap and the pipe hanging out of one corner of his mouth. “Where ye be goin’?”

  “Eastgate Shopping Centre, please,” I directed him. Then realized my mistake. “Uh, do you take cards? We have no cash.”

  “Oh aye, we be used tae that. Ye just swipe the lassie there.” He indicated the card reader attached to the dash.

  I knew a lot of cultures attached feminine and masculine to words, but I didn’t think Scotland was one of them. As Brandon slipped into the back seat with me, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why is it a lassie?”

 

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