Grave Things (Grave Things Series Book 1)

by Lindsay Mead

  That's when Vi noticed the two filled shot glasses next to her and Ian's coffee mugs. "Gramps, what is this?"

  "Hair of the dog that bit ya, of course," he chastised.

  "Of course, how could I forget?" Vi lifted her shot, gesturing for Ian to do the same. "A shot in the morning keeps the hangover away."

  With everyone watching, they clanked their glasses together and swallowed the shots. Vi cringed as the liquor hit her tongue. Ugh, how had this been so yummy last night? The Hellish Whiskey burned all the way to her gut.

  Ian, on the other hand, looked at his empty glass with a smile. "Martha, can I buy a few cases of this to bring home?"

  "Sure, darlin'!" she responded, tickled pink.

  Aaron entered then, his clothes crumpled, his collar smudged, and his face as red as an apple. Fortunately, everyone else was too busy with their food and conversation to notice his strange state. The two girls weren't with him and Vi wondered how he was able to send them home without any trouble. Maybe she'd have to ask him for some tips.

  After breakfast, when everyone was cleaning, Grams asked Viola to help her put the horses to pasture. A little full but no longer feeling the effects of her hangover, she agreed enthusiastically. Chores on her grandparent's ranch really didn't feel like chores.

  "You had a good time last night?" Grams asked as they both led two horses each out of the stable.

  "Oh, yeah, it was a blast." Vi grinned. "It's always fun here, though."

  "You and Ian spent the night together?" Leave it to Grams to cut through the small talk.

  "Well, have you seen the guy?" Thinking of Ian's body pressed against hers made her feel a little too hot. "He's hard to resist."

  "Good." Reaching the pasture gate, Grams unlatched it and then removed the halter from her first horse. Tasting freedom, he raced into the flowing grass like a spring colt. "Then you've gotten him out of your system and can get back to business."

  "That's a bit callous, don't you think?" Viola gave Bud a scratch behind the ear as she waited her turn.

  "You have to be callous when it comes to the heart." Letting her second horse loose, she waited for Vi to release her horses before closing the gate. "I talked with your mom and I agree with her. How many married exorcists do you know?"

  "Whoa, marriage? We just met. You're both getting ahead of yourselves." Walking toward the barn, Viola was careful with her tone. Grams was frank, but that wasn't an invitation to be disrespectful. "We're only having fun."

  Except that wasn't entirely true and she knew it the moment she'd said it. Maybe it had started as fun but the more time she spent with Ian, the better they seemed to fit together—like pieces from a god damned puzzle. Ugh, if metaphors were involved, then she was already in real trouble.

  "Bullshit," Grams snarled, calling her out. "I fell for your grandpa the day I met him. Love sneaks up on you and it doesn't always take its time about it. You might not be in love yet but, from what I saw last night, the two of you are well on your way."

  Frustratingly, Vi noticed how excited her heart got at the idea. It was happening too quickly. The last time she'd fallen fast, the love had been a lie. Her stomach twisted at the thought that it might be happening again. "You think it's sneaking up on Ian, too?"

  "Heck yeah, he might be worse off than you." Glancing at Viola, Grams pointed a menacing finger. "You wipe that grin off your face right now. Are you going to quit exorcising for him?"

  "You know that's not how it works." She frowned.

  It was a calling. The need to hunt demons never faded and, eventually, a demon got the better of them all. There was no walking away from this life.

  "Do you think he's going to sell his companies to follow you around the world and watch you risk your life?" Grams swung her halters and lead ropes onto her shoulder and entered the barn.

  "Oh, Grams, come on. Give me a break." Stopping at the next stall, Vi hesitated before opening it. She was trying to play it cool, but the conversation was making her stomach hurt. "Maybe we are starting to fall for each other—or whatever—but the rest is a long way off."

  "How much time do you think you guys have together?" Grams opened a stall and Classy, her prized Appaloosa Show Champion, eagerly came to the door. "When this job is done, he'll return to his mansion and you'll head off in search of your next demon."

  Well, Grams had her there. Viola jerked open the stall door and cooed the copper Quarter Horse over. There was no way whatever was happening between Vi and Ian could go beyond this job. She sighed with disappointment as she slid the halter over the horse's ears. It was amazing how a person's good mood could be ruined by one conversation. "So, what are you saying?"

  "Stamp it down now." Grams smacked her chest in demonstration. "Protect that heart of yours."

  Frowning, Viola put her hand on her hip. "You know, most grandparents actually want their grandkids to get married."

  "Oh, honey, I wanted that for you so bad. Aaron too." Leading Classy, she came over and touched Vi's cheek sweetly. "But we all gave up on the two of you being like most kids a long time ago."

  15

  Leaning on the bathroom counter, Viola dragged bright red lipstick across her lips. She straightened and gave her Halloween costume a final check. Wearing one of Ron's oil-smudged work shirts from his garage, she'd rolled up the sleeves and tied it above her midriff. Her hair was held up by a red, polka-dotted bandanna; allowing a few blonde and black curls to hang free. With her tats and a tight pair of blue jeans, she was one badass Rosie the Riveter.

  "Come on, Vi. I need the mirror," Lana whined from the other side of the door.

  Viola slid the lipstick into her pocket and greeted her with a smile. "All done."

  "Whoa, boss!" Grinning, Lana was dressed all in black: skirt, tights, shoes, and a sweater with a white collar and cuffs. Her hair was parted down the middle and braids hung over each shoulder. "Bitchin' costume."

  "Thanks." Viola stepped out, switching places with her assistant. "Hey, where's your costume?"

  Lana swiveled on the tile floor in her Mary Jane shoes.

  "This is my costume. I'm a homicidal maniac." Deadpan, Lana slowly closed the door adding, "They look just like everyone else."

  Proud of Lana's good taste, Viola turned and headed down the stairs. While humming the Addams Family theme song, she stopped mid-staircase and snapped her fingers. Ron, who was watching a bad scary movie marathon in the living room, joined her snaps.

  Ian walked out of the downstairs bathroom, and Vi's breath caught at the sight of him. He appeared to be a homegrown cowboy, black hat and all—and damn, did he look dead sexy. A rope hung from his shoulder and a holstered gun from his hip, which suggested that Gramps had assisted in this transformation.

  "A cowboy?" Vi asked, descending the remaining stairs to lean on the end post. "Why am I not surprised?"

  "Well, howdy ma'am. Ranchin's in my blood." Ian exaggerated his 'r', creating the worst American accent in history. It made them both chuckle. Taking a deep breath, he switched to his natural accent. "What about you, Rosie?"

  "Mom's idea actually. I was really under-prepared this year." She pointed to his gun, surprised her grandparents would trust him to carry one safely. "Gramps gave you a gun?"

  "Fake." He yanked it out of the holster, revealing the bright orange tip. "Your mom still had it from when you were kids."

  Vi nodded her understanding, then slid her gaze along his body in obvious appreciation. "The outfit suits you. Might have missed your calling."

  As soon as the compliment was out of her mouth, Viola regretted it. She couldn't let herself act this way with him. Her grandmother's warning sat fresh in her mind, lending caution to her behavior. Flirting came naturally to Vi and, usually, it was harmless fun but with Ian, it could cruelly lead him on. If she didn't put distance between them now, they were both going to end up heartbroken.

  "I think I agree, but you, uh…" Ian trailed, unaware of her silent decision to keep him away. His eyes studied
her form, lingering on the strip of skin showing at her midsection. "You look very nice."

  Just like that—under the gaze of his liquid eyes—she wanted him. Her breathing slowed, heat centered and focused her. It was as if there was only Ian and Viola…and the heady want that existed between them.

  Fuck. This was going to be hard as hell.

  "Cut it out, you two. It's getting weird in here," her stepdad grumbled, his eyes glued pointedly to the TV. He gestured with his beer to the front door. "Trick-or-treating is about to start, man your posts."

  Ian cleared his throat and awkwardly opened the door to the screened-in porch. Under their weight, the old floorboards beneath the worn lime-green carpet creaked. The air in here was a mix between fresh and musty. Bits of old wicker furniture lined the walls with a coffee table in the room's center and a plastic ficus tree in the corner.

  As Ian went to the big windows, glancing up and down the sidewalk, Vi twisted the nob on the tiny electric heater. Cool air fluttered out amid metal clanks, but in seconds the coils glowed red and the air became warm. Her mother opened the house door.

  "You guys will need this," Amy said, handing Ian a big bowl of candy. Viola eagerly sifted through the mixture of sweets in search of peanut butter M&M's. They were her favorite candy, easily her strongest and best vice. Amy snapped her fingers to stop her, "That candy isn't for you. Here."

  With a toss, a large red bag sailed Vi's way. She caught it one-handed and her inner voice squealed excitedly at the feel of those wonderful peanut butter delights shifting about inside. The bag was Halloween themed, which for some reason made them even more awesome.

  "Thanks, Mom." Vi grinned, immediately tearing the corner off. "Have I ever told you that you're the best?"

  "Yes, but I live to hear it." Amy gave them both a quick wink, flicked on the porch light, and placed a CD player radio on the floor. She hit play and a playlist of Halloween songs crooned from the small speakers. Before she went back inside, Amy glanced out to the street. "Oh, here comes your first trick-or-treaters!"

  Vi poured some of her peanut butter candies into her hand and Ian's, as up the sidewalk strolled a gaggle of kids. There was a ghoul, a Wonder Woman, an Iron Man, and a witch. They pointed to the hanging zombie prisoner with thrilled giggles. Ian rushed to the screen door appearing as excited as the kids.

  "I've never done this before." Suddenly he spun, and his eyes widened at her. "What am I supposed to do?"

  Hating the way Ian made her heart tumble, she smiled. "When they say, 'Trick or treat', you hold out the bowl for them to take a candy."

  He nodded, his face stern like a man on a mission.

  "Smile, or you'll scare them away."

  At that, he slapped on the biggest and cheesiest grin he could muster. Vi tried not to laugh, thinking that he still might scare them off. As they approached, Ian gave them all a 'howdy.' The kids eyed his cowboy hat and plastic gun with twinkles in their eyes, and shyly recited their line. Watching him lower the candy bowl for their little hands to dig into, Vi had this strange thought that Ian would make a fantastic father someday. After all, he already had some of the customary dorky dad habits.

  "Happy Halloween!" he shouted after the kids as they paraded back to their parents, which prompted them to chorus the same farewell in return. Leaning inside, Ian beamed at Viola. "That was awesome."

  "I know, right?!" Vi fell into one of the wicker chairs and crossed her legs. "I love handing out candy just as much as I did receiving it when I was their age."

  "You know"—Staring at her the same way those kids had ogled the candy, Ian put down the bowl and slowly walked toward her—"finding you might have been the best thing I ever did."

  Viola gaped as he neared, frozen under his intense stare. Her heart thumped with increasing fervor and her breathing became shallow. Ian lowered toward the chair, putting his weight on the arms. Involuntarily, her eyes went to his lips and she felt his gaze touch upon her own. Alarms went off in Vi's head, cautionary voices insisting that she move her ass.

  Using every ounce of her willpower, she broke the hold Ian had on her and ducked under his arm to grab the candy bowl. "More kids coming!"

  Leaving him dumbstruck, Viola rushed to the door and was relieved to see two astronauts heading their way. That was lucky. Pushing open the door, she tried to breathe normally as her confused heart stuttered and tripped over itself. This was going to be a tough couple of hours.

  Fortunately, Lady Luck continued to be on her side and the flow of trick-or-treaters remained constant. Viola and Ian took turns, passing the bowl back and forth. Soon Vi forgot about avoiding him and relaxed into his good company. They swapped stories and admired costumes. Lana popped in during a commercial break to sing a couple cheesy Halloween songs with Viola before getting back to the movie marathon. All the while, kids came and went. Only around eight, at the official end of trick-or-treating, did they finally get a breather.

  "That's the last of 'em." Ian watched the skeleton-clad girl run to her parents as he discarded the almost-empty candy bowl onto the coffee table. "What's next?"

  "The annual charity Scare Bowl." Vi popped a few peanut butter M&Ms into her mouth and leaned her hip against a wicker chair arm. At Ian's strange expression, she explained, "It's a community flag football game with the high school Alumni. All proceeds go to a different local charity each year."

  "Sounds like a good time." Inching closer, Ian's eyes grazed along her body.

  In an instant, the atmosphere on the porch changed from casual to sexual. For fuck's sake, it was like they were teenagers who couldn't keep their hands off each other. Every long look or lingering touch seemed to kick-start their libidos, sending them into overdrive. Viola wasn't unfamiliar with mind-blowing sex, but her body responded to Ian like fire to oxygen. She needed to stop this—wipe that desire right from his face—but she so didn't want to.

  "It's a trip all right," she said breathlessly and backed into the wall, fighting her strong desires. "Ever see an American football game?"

  "Only for business." His hands fell onto her hips and the corner of his mouth tipped up teasingly. "Never in such good company."

  "Maybe we should stop this," she pushed out.

  "Stop what?" His thumb trailed along her bare stomach, making her skin tingle.

  "Whatever this is"—Pursing her lips to help shut down her traitorous body, she gestured to them both—"between us. It's not a good idea."

  He stilled. "What do you mean?"

  "Look, it was fun, but it can't go any further." Hating how this felt, she forced a shrug.

  "Fun?" His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Our relationship is new, but don't you feel that there's something special here."

  "Oh, yeah." Viola didn't want to end this, but she had no choice. The sooner the better. With an icy smirk, she looked away. "That's the problem."

  Rubbing his jaw, he stepped back, and cold air swirled between them. "Given that you fight demons and all, I never expected you to be afraid of your feelings."

  It was part insult and part dare. Like Ian wanted Viola to get defensive, or maybe he just wanted to protect his own feelings. Either way, it wasn't going to provoke her. Vi had grown too thick-skinned for that.

  "That's right, flying and feelings are big no-nos for this girl." Losing her grin, she crossed her arms. "I was hurt once and I'm not eager to experience anything like that again."

  "We've all been hurt before, Viola," Ian sneered.

  Meeting his eyes, she murmured, "Not like this."

  Footsteps sounded on the other side of the threshold, halting any further discussion, and her stepdad swung the door open. "Let's get a move on, kids. I want to get the good seats."

  With that, the older man turned about and left the door open for them. Vi glanced at Ian one last time before following. Judging by the barely masked frustration on his face, maybe the Scare Bowl wasn't going to be much fun this year.

  16

  Large groups of spectators str
eamed into the high school football stadium. Many dressed in an array of Halloween costumes, others had painted their faces to show town pride. They waved dozens of homemade signs, glow sticks, and pompoms. With the sun setting, the tall field lights illuminated the packed grounds. It was a carnival-like atmosphere with excitement invigorating the air; Viola's skin buzzed with it. Judging by the size, a person could easily confuse the Scare Bowl with a major sporting event.

  Viola led Ian away from the concessions stand, weaving through the crowd of slightly familiar faces. She juggled a fountain pop, a Scare Bowl flag, and—yes—another bag of peanut butter M&Ms. Glancing back, she made sure that Ian was sticking close with his drink and sack of popcorn. The mob was so thick, it would be easy to get separated.

  Pumping up the already eager sports fans, a mix of country and hit pop songs blared from the overhead speakers. Vi inserted herself and Ian into the stream of people heading into the stands. Hundreds of feet clunked against the metal grating, adding to the already loud surroundings.

  Thanks to the intoxicating atmosphere, Viola and Ian's mood had improved since she'd shot him down. If he was still angry at her, he certainly didn't show it. Although, it occurred to her then that maybe Ian didn't really care that Vi wanted to end their romance. Maybe he was the type to have a new fling every week and Viola was about to become nothing more than a forgotten good time. Her chest constricted uncomfortably at the thought. Ugh, what was wrong with her?

  "Vi!" a shout came from further up the stands, drawing her out of her silent chastising. Lana stood between Viola's parents and waved. "Up here!"

  Veering out of the stream of people, Vi and Ian made their way up the bleachers. At their row, they then had to wiggle awkwardly in front of others toward their seats. Amy grabbed the blanket she'd used to save their spots and they plopped down.