Rockwell Agency: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  But she nodded and looked away. “I understand.”

  Chapter 20

  Angela

  She didn’t understand.

  None of what had just happened made sense to her, and it had been a foreign experience, having someone she didn’t know react to her with such vitriol. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the results that her experiment was producing. Ryan said that there was no doubt now that she was possessed, and likely by the ex-wife of the man in that house. She understood his logic, and she didn’t disagree with it. But actually processing what all of this meant—no. She was far, far from that.

  “What now?” Angela asked, as Ryan drove back along the same roads they had just taken to the couple’s neighborhood.

  “Now we confirm our theory,” Ryan said. “That the ex-wife is dead.”

  Angela nodded, looking out the window somewhat blankly. “How do we do that?”

  “We see what records we can come up with and if we can find her alive and well somewhere,” Ryan said, “and if not, then we contact her.”

  “Contact her?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yes. Bring her out.”

  “Bring her out,” Angela repeated, still not really grasping what he was saying. Until it hit her and made her feel cold all over. “Oh. Bring her out of me. Talk to her, through me.”

  “That’s right,” Ryan said, reaching over and patting her arm gently. “We haven’t gotten there yet, though, so don’t worry about that right now. The first thing to do is find the name of the ex-wife, look her up, and try to track her down. We could be wrong—she might actually be missing.”

  Angela had a very strong suspicion that the woman was not missing. “Are we going back to the office?”

  “Actually, I thought we could work from my home office,” Ryan said. “I think it’s a good idea for you to stay with me twenty-four seven until we get this fixed. In case of another episode. And if we’re going to be spending all that time together, it makes more sense to do it somewhere we can settle in and make ourselves comfortable.”

  In spite of herself, Angela felt her heart leap at the prospect of spending the night with Ryan. Nothing would happen, of course. He probably didn’t even think of her that way. She was his client, and he was very professional. Even when he’d held her hand and sat with his arm around her, stroking her skin, he had only done that as part of the cover that they were husband and wife. He would never—and had never—touched her intimately outside of that situation. A hug, perhaps, now and then. But that was all.

  It was ridiculous of her to immediately imagine sitting on his couch with him, her legs tucked up beneath him and her shoulder resting against his. It was ridiculous to think that as she got sleepy, her head might fall onto his shoulder, and he might slip his arm around her, holding her close so that she would be more comfortable. It was truly ridiculous to imagine that he might look down at her, and she would get lost in his eyes for the sweetest moment possible, just before he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. The kiss would be like fire and magic all at once, traveling through her body and sweeping her up into him. She would wind her arms around his neck and pull him closer as the heat took them both over. He would lean her back and press her into the cushions, his body covering hers. His hand would slide up her legs, gripping her hips, and then—.

  “Angela?”

  The sound of his voice startled her out of her heated daydream, and her cheeks flushed. She had a brief flash of worry that he had somehow read her mind, but when she looked at him, he only appeared mildly concerned. “Did you say something?” she asked, clearing her throat and shifting slightly in her seat to ease the pulsing pressure between her legs.

  “Are you okay with going back to my place? You didn’t say anything. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable …”

  “Oh no,” Angela said, quickly. “That’s fine. Makes sense. I was just thinking.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “You’re still processing everything. You’ll get there. Honestly, you’re doing great, Angela. I promise.”

  She smiled back at him, wishing that she had, in fact, been processing her situation instead of engaging in sexual fantasies about the man who, just hours ago, she had sworn to never see or speak to again. But as she looked at his smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle warmly, she couldn’t really blame herself for being attracted to him. Angela had only had a few dalliances over the years, because she was so committed to her work, but she was a woman who knew what she liked in a man—and Ryan was definitely what she liked. Strong, broad-shouldered, funny, kind. Gorgeous didn’t hurt at all either, by the way. There was no doubt that she wanted him, and there was no doubt that it would be a terrible idea to let him know she wanted him.

  They had only just redeveloped their professional relationship, and who, if not him, was going to help her become unpossessed by a ghost? That wasn’t the sort of problem she could get a referral to a specialist for.

  She needed him, which meant she needed to keep it in her pants.

  They drove the rest of the way to his house in relative silence. Angela watched as the bayou grew thicker, beginning to surround them. Louisiana did have beautiful terrain, and Angela loved being surrounded by its wild greenery and marshy waters that promised the possibility of finding new specimens within its pools.

  “I need to contact my supervisor,” she realized suddenly. “I don’t suppose I’ll be able to go to school tomorrow.”

  “No,” Ryan said. “I don’t think you should. Can they give you some time off?”

  “He won’t be happy,” Angela said, dreading the email already. “It’s a very intense program. I should have been working this weekend, in fact, to get a little bit ahead. But there’s no helping it. I can’t trust myself to go in there and not …have an episode.” Apparently that was what they were calling it now.

  Ryan pulled off the small two-lane road they had been on for a while, taking his SUV down a much rougher path that would lead them to the parking area for his house. “He’ll have to understand,” he told her. “As valuable as I’m sure you are to them, they’ll be willing to make some allowances. Meanwhile, you and I will work to get this taken care of as soon as possible.”

  Angela hoped that he was right, but as they parked, got out of the car, and made their way into his house, she put it out of her mind. They worked together to get a workstation set up. Angela had all of her belongings with her, given that he had picked her up from the airport and her suitcase was in the trunk of the car. That meant that they had two laptops to work with, and she had plenty of clothes for however many days she was going to stay in this bayou getaway.

  She was grateful when he suggested that she take a quick shower or freshen up, and she found herself, once again, standing under the hot spray of his shower. She had been in the same shower just that morning, but it seemed like ages ago. It had been before the revelation that a spirit was possessing her. It was a different world.

  Stepping out of the shower, Angela toweled off and got dressed in her own clothes. She left her hair wet and hanging around her face, then went back out to join Ryan, who was sitting on his couch with his legs kicked up on the coffee table and his laptop perched on his lap. He looked so at ease and comfortable, dominating the room without even trying.

  Angela swallowed hard as she sat down beside him, close enough to see the screen, but not close enough to risk touching him accidentally. If he felt her skin right now, he would know how flushed she was.

  “Hey, you,” Ryan said easily, smiling over at her. “How was the shower?”

  “Good,” Angela said, keeping her voice neutral even though his gaze could have held her captivated if she’d allowed it. “Find anything?”

  He nodded, shifting the laptop so she could see it better. “So we had the name Dahlia Houston, but they’re not married, so the surname didn’t help me with the husband. So I looked up Dahlia, and luckily her name is unique enough that I found her pretty easily. She’s
on social media, and she has herself listed as in a relationship with …Gary Bard.”

  “That’s great,” Angela said, her focus shifting from her arousal back to her situation. “So we have his name, then we can find the ex.”

  “I did a search on Gary Bard,” Ryan said, nodding. “And I found his divorce decree. He and Leanna Bard divorced about eighteen months ago. It was a nasty divorce, with a pretty bad custody battle. Leanna was found to be an unfit mother.”

  Angela shook her head. “God, those poor children.”

  “Poor Gary, too,” Ryan said. “Look at why she’s an unfit mother.”

  Angela leaned closer, her hair falling forward as she peered at the computer screen. “Psychologically unstable. Poses a danger to those around her. Needs treatment.”

  “That’s right,” Ryan said, leaning back against the couch, his fingers laced behind his head. “So Gary got custody, and the divorce was finalized eighteen months ago. I searched Leanna Bard, but the last hit I found on her was a newspaper article about two months after the divorce. It was a notice that she had been arrested for bringing a weapon to the school her kids attended. Then I found her court date, but she was listed as a no-show. She didn’t appear, essentially. There’s a warrant out for her arrest, but there’s no mention of her since that time.”

  “Do you think she killed herself?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Ryan said. “I don’t know for sure yet. She could have died accidentally, or she could have killed herself …or someone could have murdered her. But my gut says she’s definitely dead, and nobody has missed her enough to figure to confirm or check on her.”

  Angela shook her head. “That’s a little sad, actually. Even if she is mentally unstable.”

  “Are you feeling sorry for the spirit who is possessing you?” Ryan asked, somewhat amused. “That’s significant progress in coping with the situation.”

  She smiled slightly. “I’m only saying that, theoretically, that’s a sad situation. I haven’t forgotten that this spirit attempted to use my body to burn down the house of her ex-husband and his sweet girlfriend and the two kids. I also haven’t forgotten the humiliation of watching myself on video as I grab a man’s penis. Nor have I forgotten about all the other times I’ve blacked out for hours and done God knows what to God knows who, all because a mentally unstable person is controlling me.”

  Ryan didn’t interrupt her rant, but when she finished, he smiled again. “So you do believe me.”

  She realized that she had just confidently declared that she was, in fact, possessed by a spirit that was controlling her, and although she could hardly believe she had gotten to that point, there was no denying that she had accepted Ryan’s hypothesis. “I guess I do, yes. Apparently there is a whole supernatural world that I am entirely unaware of.”

  “How about I show you a little more about it?” Ryan said. “But make sure you’re ready, because this next part …it gets a little bumpy.”

  Chapter 21

  Ryan

  Angela was ready. Contacting Leanna was going to be a stressful and somewhat dangerous endeavor, but he could tell that Angela was truly ready. She had her confidence back. He’d shaken it, badly, when he’d first told her about the possibility of possession, but at some point today—he wasn’t sure exactly what moment it had been—she had accepted it. Her logical mind had now embraced it, and she was ready to move ahead.

  That didn’t mean that a séance was going to be easy for her. They were never easy for anyone. It was nothing like in the movies, where people could sit in a circle, hold hands, and watch a Ouija board spin around while they squealed with delight or tantalizing fear. It was a far darker thing, and there was no telling what might come through from the spirit world.

  But it wasn’t Ryan’s first séance, and it wouldn’t be his last. He would keep her safe, and as much as he could, he would keep her comfortable.

  “Come with me,” Ryan said, putting the laptop aside and standing up off the couch. “I want to show you something.”

  Angela stood up with him, her bare, sweet, fresh face watching him with curiosity and trust. He was so glad that their fight earlier in the day hadn’t completely broken that trust, because as he looked into the face of it, he knew that it was something he treasured. He often carried his client’s trust with him, and it was a burden he took seriously. But it was different with Angela. Her trust was far more personal, and he found himself wanting to reach out and touch her cheek, tracing the soft curve of it with the pad of his thumb.

  She did things to him that he didn’t understand. Ryan was used to feeling the pull of attraction. He was the kind of man that women flocked to, and he enjoyed the company of a woman just as much as the next man. He fancied himself a sensualist. He loved the process of bringing a woman pleasure, watching her cheeks flush with it, watching her eyes glaze over, and hearing the soft, breathy sounds of desire that escaped from between her parted lips. He loved bringing a woman pleasure as much or more than receiving it himself.

  The desire to bring Angela pleasure was almost overwhelming. Every time he touched her, outwardly he kept his cool, but inwardly, he longed to keep touching her. He reacted to the softness and warmth of her skin with a deep carnal need to touch, and see, and taste more of it. She was ethereally beautiful, with just a hint of exotic. The English might not often be described as exotic, but that’s what she was to him. The lilt of her accent and the strange words that she sometimes chose. She was like a goddess from another world.

  But because he valued her trust so much, he knew that he couldn’t act on any of what he was thinking. She was a client, and even more than that, her first reaction to learning about the supernatural world had been one of revulsion and betrayal. She had gotten past that for the moment, but it didn’t feel right to pursue something physical with a woman who might very well be repulsed by what he truly was.

  He was a dragon shifter. He could fly through the air, and breathe enough fire to destroy the bayou he lived in. He could move things with just his mental power, and he was part of a long lineage of supernatural protectors.

  His identity was precious to him, but she might not feel the same way about it, and it felt wrong to take advantage of her ignorance.

  It also felt wrong to walk behind her, watching her hips sway with each step and not grab her around the waist and pull her into him.

  “Where are we going?” Angela asked, glancing back at him, unaware that he was staring at the sweet curves of her backside. “You should be leading, you know.”

  For more reasons than one, he should definitely be leading. He slipped past her in the hallway and continued down it, leading her into the bedroom that was beside his. It was where she would sleep tonight, since he didn’t dare invite her to his bed. But in the closet, he had his own supply of things that he often needed in the practice of his craft.

  Opening the closet, he stepped aside to let her see past him. “This is everything we need,” he said. “It’s going to sound strange to you. Maybe even more so, given that you’re a botanist, and you understand plants—at least the traditional use of plants. But these things that you see here are going to help us contact the spirit world.”

  Angela looked at him, then into the closet, saying nothing as she studied the items skeptically.

  “Sage,” Ryan said, reaching for a box with that word written on the label. “We’ll create a circle with it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it enhances the connection between this world and the next.”

  Angela’s eyebrows lifted. “Sage does?”

  “Yes,” Ryan said, carefully. “It does. I know that’s probably nowhere in the textbooks, but it does.”

  “And what’s this?” Angela asked, not commenting on the sage any further but reaching for another box. “What are embers, in this context?”

  “Exactly what you think,” Ryan said. “They’re ashes taken from a magical fire. They’re still glowing with the power containe
d in that fire.”

  Angela gave him a look. “You think that’s what I was thinking?”

  He smiled slightly. “I should have said that they’re just what they sound like. Glowing embers from a fire.”

  “And what are they for?”

  “We’re going to light them on fire again,” he said.

  Angela blew out a breath, laughing slightly, probably because there was little else to do. “All right. I’ll follow your lead here. What else do we need?”

  He pulled down various boxes. Sage. Embers. Bayou silt. Pig feet. And most importantly, a box filled with items that had been used in séances before. The power of those previous encounters would linger in the stones, twigs, and leaves that had been collected by those before them and kept safe for use in the future.

  Angela helped him carry the boxes, but he could see the skepticism on her face, no matter how much she was choosing to trust him.

  In his living room, Ryan began to arrange the items, explaining to Angela as he went. “I’m creating a circle,” he said, kneeling in the middle of an open space and drawing a wide circle around himself with the bayou silt. “This is going to mark the place of power. While we’re within this circle, we’ll be able to communicate with the other side—if anyone over there chooses to answer. The fact that this is bayou silt makes the connection more powerful, because we are in the bayou, contacting people from this specific area. So the force is stronger.”

  “I suppose that makes a measure of sense,” Angela said, watching him as he worked. “And what about—oh God. Are those pig feet? You keep pig feet?”

  He tried not to smile, not wanting her to think that he was laughing at her. “They’re dried pig feet. Believe it or not, I bought these in a store.”

  “That is impossible.”

  “But true,” he said. “Pig feet have special properties. I don’t know why that is, exactly. I couldn’t explain the background to you. But there are many superstitious people who carry a pig’s hoof with them.”