The Gravedigger's Brawl by Abigail Roux Page A

more, Dr. Case?” Ash asked in a flat, low voice that still managed to carry through the noise.
    â€œYeah . . . I mean no!” Wyatt said, flustered as he got a close-up look at Ash. The kohl around his eyes was an amazing way to enhance them. Wyatt had never thought he would find such a thing attractive. The tips of Ash’s gelled hair looked like they could probably pierce armor, but it somehow suited him. “I mean . . . sort of.”
    Ash met his eyes, looking like he was fighting a smile.
    â€œHey, Ash,” Caleb said before Wyatt could stutter through any sort of explanation. “Tell these two what happened to you this morning.”
    Ash looked between Wyatt and Noah. “Why?”
    â€œThey’re researching ghosts.”
    Ash peered at Wyatt again, and when Wyatt shrugged, Ash walked around Noah and stepped behind the bar to stand beside Caleb. “You want ghost stories?”
    â€œWhat happened to you this morning?” Noah asked.
    â€œNothing,” Ash huffed curtly as he picked up a clean towel and draped it over his shoulder. “Why are you asking us?” he asked without looking at Wyatt.
    â€œWe were thinking about taking the ghost tour to get some ideas,” Noah answered. “We were wondering if maybe you guys knew some stories or something to tide us over.”
    Ash turned to Wyatt. “You’re running with the ghosts and legends idea?”
    â€œWe’ll make it worthy.”
    Ash pursed his lips. Beside Wyatt, Noah smirked and pulled himself closer to the men on the other side of the bar. “We’d be more likely to make it worthy if we had help. You’re a Child of the Night, right?”
    Ash glanced at him and snorted in amusement. “Extortionist.”
    â€œYou know it.”
    â€œChild of the Night?” Ash added.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œChildren of the Night are prostitutes and vampires, numbnuts.”
    â€œOh.”
    Ash moved out from behind the bar again. “Come on,” he said with a long-suffering sigh as he headed for the kitchen.
    â€œWell it sounded all . . . gothy,” Noah said to Caleb before turning.
    Caleb grinned. Wyatt couldn’t help but smile as he followed.

    Ash was speaking to the evening cooks when Noah and Wyatt pushed through the door. He finished hearing their complaints about the stove that continued to refuse to work and promised he would fix it before turning away.
    â€œEither of you know how to fix shit?” he asked in annoyance. They’d remodeled the entire kitchen just a few months ago and already things were going wrong. He gestured for them to move toward the back door, where he set up several milk crates and sat on one of them with a groan. How it was possible to be sore three days later and still have enjoyed it, he didn’t know. His guess was that the alcohol had helped.
    â€œNot as such, no,” Noah said. He took one of the milk crates and gestured for Wyatt to sit as well. Wyatt hesitated.
    Ash looked between them with narrowed eyes and then sighed. “You told him, didn’t you?” he asked Wyatt in exasperation. “I told you I wouldn’t say anything.”
    â€œWyatt’s conscience is fairly pervasive, makes him do all sorts of stupid shit,” Noah said as Wyatt opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. “We’re really not here for that, though.”
    Ash looked between them suspiciously, but then decided Noah wouldn’t bullshit him. “Okay. So you want ghost stories.”
    Noah nodded. “Ghost stories, unexplained happenings, urban legends.”
    â€œAnd you want the truth behind the popular story?”
    â€œIf you have it,” Wyatt said in his soft, gruff voice. Ash fought the urge to be attracted to it. “If not, we’ll research it and see if we can find it. We’re only using stories we can tell the real history behind.”
    â€œWhat if the real history is