Ashley was worried about Ronan.

Something happened to him during the tour, and he seemed emotionally charged, agitated.

When he’d pulled her close, she had to admit she hadn’t minded at all, and sharing his warmth had nothing to do with the chill.

The guy seemed emotionally needy.

In women’s magazines, it always said to avoid that type of man, but, she had no desire to avoid him.

Besides, no one was perfect, and he certainly brought up feelings of protectiveness within her. Tenderness.

The thought had her laughing at herself. It hadn’t escaped her notice as they walked through the crowd that people shot him wary looks, and some even moved aside to avoid him.

Big, bulky, bulging with muscle, his gaze constantly raked the crowd as if scanning for trouble.

Again, the thought made her chuckle. He was the one who looked like trouble, with a capital T.

She’d never known she was attracted to bad boys. She never had been before.

They stopped in front of a glass case, filled with pastries.

“What would ye like, lass?”

She gazed at the pastries, and then at Ronan. “What do you suggest?”

He finally settled upon what looked like a large apple fritter. “That one?”

She nodded, amused. He’d chosen the biggest one in the case.

Ronan ordered it from the wide-eyed teen behind the counter, who couldn’t seem to take her gaze off him.

The girl set the pastry on a plate and slid it across to Ronan. “That will be 4 pounds 30 pence, please.”

Ronan dug around in the bag at his side, removed a coin, and slid it across the counter to the girl.

She looked at him blankly. “I’m sorry, sir. That will be in Scottish money.”

Ronan immediately looked indignant. “What do you call this?”

“Uh…” The girl looked slightly panicked.

“I’ve got it.” Ashley quickly dug some money out of her purse, and handed it to the girl, who looked relieved.

Ronan still looked indignant and angry. He started to protest again, but the girl was already sliding Ashley’s change across the counter, and refused to meet his gaze.

With a growl, Ronan snatched up his coin, and as Ashley pulled him away, he grumbled, “The world has gone to rack and ruin in my absence.”

Again, Ashley was amused. She led the way to one of the small tables situated in front of the shop, and sank down, sharing the napkins between them.

He took the seat across from her, sitting carefully on the small wire chair, as if uncertain if it would support his weight.

She slid the pastry between them, tore off a piece, and bit into it.

He took a bite, and made a noise that expressed his appreciation.

Her brows rose. “Good?”

He groaned again, and this time she laughed.

“I’ve not had anything like this in a long while.”

“Why not? Watching your girlish figure, are you?”

He snorted at that. “I have just one question, lass. After this, do ye think we might try ice cream?”

She laughed again. Apparently, her Highlander had a sweet tooth.

* * *

After they’d finished dessert, knowing the itinerary, she asked a local where the South Bridge Vaults were, and headed that direction. It took them about five minutes to get there and they quickly caught up with their group.

Monica whispered, “Where have you been?”

“Apparently, Ronan didn’t get enough to eat,” she whispered back.

Monica looked incredulous, but then several people shushed them as they started to walk into the vaults.

Logan’s voice drifted back. “Edinburgh has a history of very moody architecture, and none is quite as spooky as South Bridge. It was finished in 1788, it is over 1000 feet long, and has approximately 120 rooms or vaults beneath the surface of the South Bridge. The vaults were used to house businesses such as taverns, workshops, and other tradesmen such as cobblers, and even bakeries.”

Everyone looked around at the dark room they’d entered.

“The vaults were hotspots for criminal activity such as illegal gambling and illegal whiskey distilleries. The rooms were cramped, dark, and damp. It was hard to breathe, and there was no sunlight, and there were brothels and pubs operating within the many rooms. Murder and robbery were common and even body snatchers used the place to store their stolen bodies overnight.

Unfortunately, no one planned on the place flooding, so it was only used as a business area for a relatively short period of time until it was deserted, left to the homeless, and turned into a slum.”

Logan paused. “Eventually, even the homeless wouldn’t have it and the vaults were abandoned, forgotten for over 200 years, until they were rediscovered.”

They all looked around at the stone walls of the room they were in, flashlights shining about the place. The only other light was from the permanent electric candles set in the recesses of the walls.

“Spooky!” Garth whispered.

“There was a scientific study, done by the Edinburgh ghost project, that concluded the South Bridge Vaults are one of the most haunted places in all of Scotland. There have been attacks in here by an unknown entity, and psychics have reported they’ve felt the presence of pure evil within these vaults.”

Ashley glanced up at Ronan to see a cautious look upon his face. He was searching the vaulted area, with its stones, curved ceiling, and dim lighting along the walls.

“You okay?”

He gave her a short, stoic nod, but said nothing.

Logan waved an arm to indicate the cavern they were in. “We’ve had many a scientist coming here and try and either prove or disprove the existence of the paranormal. In fact, our little vaults even ended up in the Guinness World Record books.”

Ronan’s fingers tightened on her arm.

Logan continued. “If you’ll shine your torches up at the ceiling, you can see that there used to be a room above us, which has since fallen through.”

He leaned his head back. “Do you see the crack in the ceiling?”

Many cell phone flashlight beams turned in that direction, and there were murmurs of assent.

“It is said that there is a birdlike black shadowy apparition that comes down from there sometimes, claws extended, to swoop down upon the guests of this old and crumbling place.”

Ronan tensed beside her, and she wrapped her arm around his.

“Edinburgh is an old, old place, and people lived in the area for thousands of years. The spirit, which has been called an elemental, is perhaps as old as time itself. Or, as it’s been suggested, the pagans who lived in the area thousands of years ago, perhaps dipped into magic that we cannae understand today. Perhaps this elemental is the only thing left of their making.”

Logan shined the light on his face. “So, watch out. I’ve been here before, heard the sounds of swooping, and had one of my guests attacked and screaming and cowering upon the floor.”

Ronan wrapped both arms around Ashley and pulled her against his body. He scanned the ceiling, one way, then the other, then turned them both to look behind him. “You’re not to worry, lass,” he said softly. “I will keep ye safe.”

She was pretty sure he was serious as she could feel his heart pounding against her back. “Thank you.”

“We will now leave The Devil’s Room, and continue on to Mr. Boot’s Room … where you are welcome to take pictures.” They all followed.

“It’s been said you can see his face on the far wall. You’ll have to use the flash on your cameras, but that’s all right, he’s seen your face, you might as well take his home as a souvenir.”

Ronan drew her to the back of the crowd, away from the wall as he continued to look around.

“You still good?” Ashley asked.

Another nod was her only response.

The tour wasn’t long, and eventually they ended up in the last room, which housed artifacts and pictures and books for sale.

Logan waited until everyone was inside, and then told them, “All right, look around as much as you like. I’ll just wait outside until you’re done, and then we’ll head up to Greyfriars Kirkyard. I’m afraid the ghost we’re going to meet up there has been known to scratch, bite, and bruise, so be warned. I’ll be outside, and I’ll leave in exactly five minutes.”

Ronan rushed Ashley forward, and they were first out the door behind Logan.

Logan grinned at the two of them. “Did you like the tour?”

Ronan looked at the man in disbelief. “I’ve yet to understand it. Why folks would purposefully put themselves among the spiteful dead is something I’ll not ever ken. Especially in the name of fun.”

Logan laughed. “Well, you have to admit it’s interesting. People actually lived here, died here, and now we live in fancy apartments, drive cars, and fly across the world. Taking a look back like this? It lets us know how good we have it.”

“If ye say so.”

Ronan backed them away as others came out to chat with Logan, and he started to pet her hair. To calm her? Or himself?

“Do you want to go on with the tour? You could go back to the hotel, and I could stay with my friends.”

His face took on a grim expression. “Tis what ye’re here for, and I’ll see that ye have what ye wish. Ye’re not to worry, I’ll also see ye safe.”

“Thank you,” she said once again.

As soon as everybody gathered about, they headed up to the graveyard.

* * *

It was only a five-minute walk to the graveyard, and the closer they got, the tighter Ronan gripped her against his side.

“Is something the matter?”

“Nae. Just keeping ye close in case something amiss occurs.”

She was a bad person because she wanted to tease him about being a ghost who was afraid of ghosts. But maybe only a little bad, because she didn’t say it aloud. “Like what?”

“Play amongst the evil dead, and ye might get hurt.”

She chuckled.

“As this is what I’m here for, I’ll go. If ye stay close, I believe I will just about manage it.”

Unsure whether he was joking or not, she just said, “All right, I’m not going anywhere.”

Logan stopped the group of them at the edge of the graveyard. “Greyfriars Kirkyard is the graveyard surrounding the Kirk, and it takes its name from the Franciscan priory on the site. Here’s what happened … St Giles’ was filling up with dead people and they were running out of room. The smell, the inconvenience, and especially the heat of the summer made them decide to locate a burial place farther from the middle of town as that would be much more convenient for all.”

“And it would smell better, too!” A man yelled out.

Everyone laughed. Everyone but Ronan, anyway.

“Also, upon the grounds is the Covenanters’ Prison. Now the Covenanters, men and women of the Scottish Presbyterians faith, incited a revolution. But we’ll talk more about that later.”

Logan turned and walked through the iron gates, and Ashley looked around with widened eyes. Yes, it was dark, but she could still see the tall, thin headstones, the iron gates surrounding some of the graves, and what looked like a huge mausoleum or a vault.

She didn’t know where to look first. Dark grass and huge trees covered the lawn, and they were surrounded by stone walls, tall buildings, and statues that lit up when some of their group shined flashlights about.

Ronan still had a firm grip on her.

When they were all inside, Logan turned around and slowly shined his own flashlight across graves and a huge mausoleum. “Greyfriars has a worldwide reputation for being haunted. The notorious spirit of bloody George MacKenzie is said to roam these grounds and he’s the prime suspect with regard to some very frightening experiences. He’s affectionately known as the MacKenzie Poltergeist, and is said to be the cause of such events as biting, scratching, cuts and bruises, and many a visitor has reported feelings of utter dread when walking within these gates. Does anyone feel it?”

He looked around at the huddled group of them before he turned and continued on his way. “All right then, doonae say ye were not warned. We’ll head into the Covenanters’ Prison now, and see what happens in there.”

As they walked, many of them crunched dried leaves, kicked them around, adding a musty smell and much noise as they walked toward a locked gate.

Ashley glanced up at Ronan and from what she could see, he looked completely freaked out, and she really, really was a bad person because, once again, she wanted to smile.

Logan stopped in front of the closed iron gate and held up a large, iron key. “I’m afraid I have to ask a couple of questions now. Actually, I am required to do so by the Council as, if I don’t ask the question, I’m not allowed to open the gate. Does anyone here have a heart condition?”

There were giggles among the crowd, but no one raised a hand.

“Is anyone pregnant?”

A few more giggles, but once again no one came forward.

“All right, in that case …” Logan turned toward the gate and stuck the key in the lock. He opened the creaky gate, slowly, drawing the sound out. “Come along, then. But be aware it is at your own risk.” He stood back and waved them in. “I’ll be counting how many of you go inside so that I might count and find the same number comes out again.”

Garth turned to grin at Ashley. “I guess I won’t be able to lock you in there all night after all,” he laughed and went ahead.

Ronan’s hand lifted to cup her head protectively. “Fear not, I’ll make sure ye come out safe again, no matter what happens.”

The giggling crowd walked through the gates, bumping shoulders at the tight fit, and listening to Logan call out numbers as they passed by.

The space was long, filled with grass, and enclosed with high stone walls and what looked to be vaults every few feet on either side of the long, open to the elements, corridor.

As soon as they were all inside, Logan went to the front of the group and, with his arms waving them in, gathered them close. When they were all settled, he shined a flashlight on his face.

“All right, I’m about to tell you a piece of history, and tis not going to be pretty, so listen up. Back in the early 1600s, when Charles I was king of England, he was determined that everyone should worship the same God, in the same way. Many in Scotland felt differently. Charles wanted everyone to be Episcopalian, but those here in Scotland had already gone through a church reform, and were devout Presbyterians.”

Logan glanced around at the crowd. “Well, that went on for a while, and then King Charles decided to tax the people once again, calling it an annuity, and everyone here in Scotland went ahead and paid it.”

Logan shook his head. “One day, everyone went to church as usual. Do you remember over in St Giles' where we started out? That’s where they were when they sat down, picked up their prayer books, and found out they were now all Episcopalian. Not only that, but the mass had changed as well and the entire service was different.”

He shook his head. “People were, of course, furious. One lady was famously said to stand up, throw her stool at the minister, and accuse him of speaking the words of the devil. There were riots, fighting, the Scots leaving everyone in no doubt that they did not approve the changes.

Soon after, a group of people got together, here in this very graveyard, and against one of the gravestones they drafted a document that said they would continue to follow the king, they would not go against him, as long as he stopped trying to force them to change religions. It was called the National Covenant, and was between the people who signed the document, and God. The people who signed called themselves Covenanters.”

Logan’s face turned grave. “That, of course, did not go over very well with the monarch. It started a civil war, and many battles were fought over religion. In the end, 1200 Covenanters were caught, marched here to Greyfriars, and imprisoned within these very walls.” He shined his light around, the shadows bouncing eerily off the stone walls.

“Back then, the mausoleums hadn’t been built yet. It was just a walled-in field. There was no shelter, it was winter time, they were given bread and water, but barely enough of both to survive. They were treated horribly. If they spoke, or moved about, they were shot. They were forced to lie face-down much of the time in the mud, and after five months, out of the original 1200, there were just over 200 left.”

Logan took a moment to let that sink in, Ronan’s hand clenched convulsively, and Ashley glanced up to see his face, stark in the darkness.

“The King, now Charles II, was getting angrier and angrier at the resistance. Though some of them had been released when they’d signed a form renouncing their religion, and becoming Episcopalian, those that would not, he decided to sell into slavery and put them on the ship bound for the Americas. The ship crashed, and 43 survived. Only 43 out of the 1200.”

Ashley shuddered at the thought of it. All those people, tortured and starved, upon the very ground they stood upon.

“So much hardship was seen within these walls, and some people say the moment they walk through the gates, they can feel the negative energy in this place. Many believe that the negativity is what’s raised the poltergeist that lives within this vault.” Logan pointed to the open vault behind him. “Tis called the black mausoleum because there’s so much darkness within, and it also refers to the poltergeist himself. It is where all the poltergeist activity takes place.”

Logan drew a deep breath. “Now, if you don’t know anything about poltergeists, let me educate you. A poltergeist will usually burn itself out within a few months, but this one has been here for over a decade.”

He stepped aside and shined his light into the darkness. “All right, head inside now, but before you do I need you to please refrain from poking or pinching the person in front of you. The last thing we need is a stampede as everyone screams and runs out the door. Does everyone understand?”

There were more giggles, laughter, and a general release of tension.

“I’m not kidding!” Logan assured everyone. “I’ve had it happen in the past, and we’ve had people pass out, scream, and run out the door. People get hurt when that happens, so please refrain from general hijinks while you’re inside the tomb.”

They all went inside the vault, and Ashley clung to Ronan’s hand with both of hers.

Ronan found a place against the stone wall, and pulled her in front of him. One arm went around her waist, the other around her shoulders, as he hauled her back against him. She couldn’t see him, but could tell by the movement of his body that he was looking around at the stone walls of the tomb.

Logan stood in the doorway, lit a candle, and held it to his face. “The poltergeist within these walls is known as Bloody George Mackenzie. It takes a lot in this country to have the nickname Bloody bestowed upon you, but that’s exactly what he was. His name was actually Lord George Mackenzie. He was responsible for the deaths of the prisoners within these walls, and it was his job to think of ways to torture them. Why they laid him to rest so close to the field of those he killed, doesnae seem a very responsible act, does it?”

There were murmurs of agreement.

The candlelight flickered over Logan’s face. “At first, the poltergeist activity started out small. Cold drafts, strange smells, and the like. Soon they progressed to bite marks, scratches, bruises and even burns. People have been knocked unconscious.”

He paused. “At first, when it started happening, they locked the tomb, locked the gate, and no one was allowed to come inside anymore.”

Everyone was silent, and Ronan’s tension eased not one iota.

“Then someone got the bright idea that bringing in ghost tours was a good idea. Why not let people pay to be abused?”

Everybody laughed.

“Now, if you’re not familiar with what can trigger a poltergeist, it’s usually triggered by some sort of strong emotion, like fear. Here’s what we think triggered our poltergeist. Back in the 90s, a homeless man was walking through the area, it was raining, cold, and he was looking for somewhere to bed down for the night.”

Logan lifted an arm to indicate the tomb. “A logical choice, no?”

Everyone laughed.

“He passed this tomb, the door was open, and so he went inside. Now, over in the dome-shaped tomb, if ye look at the floor, you’ll see a grate leading down underneath the tomb and into a crypt. Yes, he walked down into the crypt, and found some coffins. For whatever reason, he grabbed a rock and hit it against one of the lead lined coffins, starting to bang on it repeatedly.”

He lifted his brows. “Seem like a good idea?”

More laughter.

“Meanwhile, the caretaker of Greyfriars walked past the tomb and heard banging coming from underground. What would you do?”

There were chuckles and a general shifting, but everyone, including Ashley, was enthralled.

“Well, he forced himself to walk up to the tomb and look inside. He walked in a little way, and being a larger than average individual, when he stood upon the weak floorboards, rotted with age, he broke through, landing underneath the tomb and upon a mountain of bodies that had been stored there during the plague. It’s actually called a plague pit, and there are many of them upon the grounds.”

Logan took a deep breath. “Understandably, he freaked out. So, you have a huge amount of fear coming off our groundskeeper, a homeless man desecrating two graves, and we are right here in the area where hundreds of Covenanters died horribly. We believe it triggered the poltergeist.”

Logan’s face looked eerie as he lowered the candle. “Now, if any of you have noticed, you are standing inside the tomb, while I am standing outside of it. I never go in this tomb.” He shook his head. “Not ever. I have to say that the lot of you are much braver than I.”

Ronan drew in a deep breath and the words seemed to galvanize him. He grabbed Ashley up into his arms, pushed past the others, and headed out the door.

Logan, laughing, moved aside at the last moment, and Ronan passed by and started walking toward the exit.

“What are you doing?” Logan called after them.

She could hear the laughter behind them. “Yes, what are you doing?”

“Tis not fit to play with things ye do not understand, lass.”

She bit back her own laughter, and wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her out, through the gate, across the graveyard, and back out onto the street.

Under the streetlamp she could see he looked slightly freaked out.

Her heart melted.

“Have ye had enough for the night, lass? Mayhap we should seek our beds, turn all the lights on, and sleep off this foul night.”

She knew the rest of the group was going to head toward Mary King’s Close, a series of old alleyways and buried houses located underneath some of the buildings on The Royal Mile. It was an area shrouded in myths, urban legends, and tales of hauntings, and murders.

She’d really wanted to see it.

Instead, she hugged her Highlander, smiled and said, “That sounds like a good idea to me.”