Jessica Andersen - With the MD...at the Altar?

“Which is exactly why I’m keeping my hands and all other body parts to myself this time,” she said aloud as she pulled up to a pair of heavy wrought-iron gates set into a high brick wall. “Been there, done that, bought the heartache.”

And if she told herself that a few million more times, she might even stop thinking about how wide his shoulders stretched beneath the CDC windbreaker. He’d gained a few pounds since she’d seen him last, and damn, they looked good on him.

“Stop it,” she finally told herself. “There are far more important things to worry about right now.”

Then again, the threat of the Violents and the deadly disease gripping her town was probably why she was fixating on Luke. Guy problems were normal. What was happening in Raven’s Cliff was far from normal. It was almost as though the town truly was suffering under an evil curse.

“So deal with the disease,” she told herself, because that was the only thing she could hope to fix. “We work it one step at a time. First step—move in to the haunted monastery.”

Trying not to talk herself into being even more creeped out than she already was, she got out of her car and used the keys Mayor Wells had given her to release a heavy padlock. The gate resisted at first, then gave way with a groan and swung inward. Aware of the others watching her from their idling cars, she blocked the gates open, climbed back in her car and drove along the narrow stone driveway leading to the monastery.

When her headlights picked out the main building, she saw that it was just as dark and creepy as she remembered, if not more so.

The stone building towered three stories high and stretched nearly the length of a football field on either side of the main entrance. The structure was made of heavy granite blocks, with marble pillars and peeling white-painted wood trim covered in a thick layer of moss and ivy. A series of narrow windows were nearly hidden beneath the dense greenery, glinting like the eyes of a predator peering through underbrush.

Built back in the town’s heyday by the founding family, the Sterlings, the monastery had been a glorious place through the 1800s and early 1900s. Like the town itself, though, it had seen better days. Now the marble was cracked and crumbling, and the air blowing in through the vents of Rox’s car carried the scent of decay.

“I wish I’d never mentioned this place,” she said, trying to ignore the faint shiver working its way down the back of her neck. “We could’ve made do at the clinic.”

Then again, that would’ve meant being in very close quarters with Luke. Maybe the monastery wasn’t such a bad idea after all. At least she’d be able to put a few doors between them, giving her some space. Some privacy.

She avoided the road leading to the parking lot off to the side of the huge stone building, and instead pulled up right in front of the wide stone stairs leading to the main entrance.

All the better for a quick getaway if I need one , she thought wryly, but deep down inside she knew that even though the idea of escape might be sorely tempting, she wasn’t going anywhere. This was her home. These were her people. If there was anything she could do to heal and protect them, then she’d do it, even if it meant spending the next few days—or longer—with Luke.

Speak of the devil, he was already out of his car and jogging up the main stairs, lighting the way with a heavy metal flashlight she knew from years past could double as both illumination and self-defense.

When she joined him, he flicked the cone of light in her direction. “No ghosts yet.”

“I didn’t say I thought it was haunted,” she said. “But wait until you get a load of the interior. If there was ever a place that deserved its own horror flick, this is it. Around here it’s a rite of passage for kids to sneak into the monastery and spend the night.” It was also a prime make-out spot, but she didn’t want to go there.

She tried a couple of keys, found the right one and got the front door unlocked. It opened with a theatrical creak that had a few of the volunteers shifting from foot to foot and looking at each other as if unsure this was such a good idea.

“Let’s get the electricity on first,” Luke ordered, taking charge of the situation. He gestured to one of his male teammates. “Thom, you can find the central panel, right? The mayor said we’d have juice if we hit the main breaker.”

Thom, a tall, lean biochemist with a crooked nose, nodded and clicked on his own heavy flashlight. “I’m on it.”

Within a few minutes, a scattering of lights came on, illuminating the entryway and glowing farther into the sprawling stone building.

Like the outside, the once grand inside of the stone monastery had fallen into disrepair, with splashes of graffiti painted on many of the walls, and the charred remains of a campfire sitting smack in the middle of the entranceway.

Luke looked around, his gaze lighting on the religious motifs carved into the lintels over each door, then picking out the three main archways leading from the entrance. He glanced at Rox and raised an eyebrow. “Suggestions?”

“Our best bet is to close off the east wing,” she said, pointing to their right. “That’s where the most vandalism has taken place, and according to local legend, it’s also where things tend to go ‘bump’ in the night.”

He nodded. “Not the best place to stick patients who are already mentally compromised. We do that and we’re just asking for problems.”

“Among other things.” Rox pointed straight ahead. “We’ll want to keep the kitchen wing open. Besides food, that’ll be our best bet for setting up lab space. We can put the patient and sleeping rooms in the west wing.” She jerked her thumb left, toward a locked door that had so far defied the vandals’ efforts to break in. “I was in there on a field trip once, and I’m pretty sure I remember there being decent-looking rooms with sturdy doors. No doubt Captain Swanson can hook us up if we need to change out the locks or anything.”

“This place is cool,” Thom said, emerging from the shadows of the east wing and making them all jump slightly. He had a smudge of dust on the shoulder of his drying CDC raincoat, but his eyes were lit with an adventurer’s curiosity that sent a faint pang through Rox. He continued, “Somebody should use it for a school or something.”

“They tried,” one of the off-duty cops said. “Since the seventies, it’s been used as a boarding school, a summer camp for smart kids, a corporate retreat and a wellness center. None of them lasted long.”

“That’s ’cause it’s haunted,” one of the fishermen said. “We shouldn’t be here.”

There was a general mutter of agreement and more shifting of feet, but before Rox could jump in with her “now let’s be rational” speech, Luke raised his voice and said, “I don’t know much about ghosts. What I do know is that you have a medical emergency here, and it’s my job to get it under control. So here’s the plan. Thom, you take half of the volunteers and see what needs to be done to get the north wing functional as both a kitchen and a field lab.” He gestured to his shorter, bearded teammate. “Bug here will take the rest of you into the west wing to get the rooms set up. Rox, I want you and May to head back to your clinic and prep the patients for transport. I’ll stay here and troubleshoot. We’ll have this place ready to go by dawn.”

If anyone else had said something like that, Roxanne would’ve laughed, but she’d seen Luke create a workable triage and quarantine area out of even less, so she had no doubt he could transform a falling-down monastery to suit their needs in under five hours.