by C. C. Wood
“You’re probably right. At least this way, I don’t have to worry about the pervert trying to spy on me with my woman. If he’s already dead, I can’t threaten to kill him.”
My cheeks warmed when I realized he was calling me his woman. It might have been a bit silly, but I liked that Mal thought of me that way.
Mal released me. “What time will your mother be here?”
“Around four-thirty.” I moved to the counter and tore the list I’d just written off the pad. “However, she’s requested that I run to the grocery store to get her a few things.”
Mal stared at the paper in my hand. “We can send Stony if you want?”
“No, you can’t,” Stony replied from the other room, obviously eavesdropping. “Stony is going to pick Jo up after a half day of work and bring her here to make sure she rests. Added bonus for the fact that Sarah’s cooking, which saves Stony the trouble.”
“Why is Stony talking about himself in the third person?” I whispered to Mal.
“Too much pot in college?” he whispered back.
“Stony can hear you!” Stony called.
I laughed. “Honestly, I need to get out of this house for a little while. Think you can put off your phone calls and emails for forty-five minutes?” I asked Mal.
“Actually, getting some fresh air sounds great,” he agreed. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”
I was excited that Mal and I were finally going to do something normal couples did. Grocery shopping, while tamer than walking through an abandoned hospital in the pitch darkness, was something a lot of couples did together. It wasn’t quite the same as a date, but I’d take it.
An hour and a half later, my fridge and pantry were packed to bursting with food and beverages. We’d gotten everything on my mother’s list, plus just about everything else the store stocked.
Then Mal waited until I was distracted with loading the groceries into the cart and paid the astronomical total.
I argued that he should let me pay him back the entire time we were transferring the groceries from the cart into my trunk, but he remained steadfast in his refusal to allow me to pay.
When we arrived back to my house, he made Blaine and Stony help him unload everything and commanded me to put things away as they brought bags inside. Though I outwardly bristled at his bossiness, I had to admit that I liked the way he was trying to take care of me. None of the men I dated before had ever done that.
A short time later, my mother arrived and ordered everyone out of my kitchen. Me included. She claimed she didn’t need us underfoot while she cooked, but I knew it was because she thought we would mess up her food if we tried to help.
As the delicious smells of lasagna filled the house, my stomach began to rumble. I was beginning to see the upside to my mother cooking dinner here. She would have to leave the leftovers.
My dad arrived a little later than his usual time, probably because my house was farther from the company where he worked. As he gave me a kiss and hug, Mal went into the kitchen to grab him a beer. Stony had left a few hours ago to pick up Jonelle, but returned with her in tow not long after my father showed up. While she wasn’t exactly ecstatic over Stony’s persistence, she no longer seemed angry with him.
Finally, a few minutes before dinner was to be served, my mother called my name.
When I entered the kitchen, she pointed to the enormous bag of lettuce I’d bought and a pile of cucumbers and tomatoes. “Will you please handle the salad?”
Because she asked me politely, I couldn’t give her a hard time, so I washed up and set to work making a huge bowl of salad.
Fifteen minutes later, we were all squished together at my dining room table, passing around the salad, breadsticks, and plates so that my mother could put a serving of lasagna on each dish.
As we ate, I felt myself relaxing. It was nice to have all the people I cared about around my kitchen table. I was beginning to understand why my mother insisted on Thursday night dinners every week, though I would never admit it to her.
Teri floated into the room as we were finishing, surveying the table crammed with empty dishes, wineglass, and beer bottles.
“Damn, I miss food almost as much as I miss sex,” she groaned. “That looks delicious.”
My mother looked up from her plate, her expression tight and her eyes sharp on Jonelle. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, dear, but there’s no need to be vulgar.”
Jonelle stared at her in consternation. “I didn’t say anything.”
My mother’s eyes came to me, growing angrier by the second. I lifted my hands in mock surrender. “It wasn’t me either.”
“Then who was it?” my mother snapped.
Teri moved closer to her, leaning over so her mouth was even with my mother’s ear. “It was me.”
Mom twisted around in her seat, staring up at Teri with her mouth hanging open. It took me a moment to realize that my mother was actually looking right into Teri’s eyes, rather than just in the direction from where her voice had come from.
“Oh my God,” I muttered beneath my breath.
“Holy shit!” Teri cried. “She can see me!”
At Teri’s words, my mother’s body came unfrozen and she lunged to her feet, knocking over her wineglass before she hurried from the room.
Jonelle jumped up and started mopping up the mess. My dad watched my mother go before turning to me.
“Honey, I think you’re better equipped to help her with this situation than I am,” he told me softly.
Unfortunately, I had to agree with him.
I didn’t see my mother in the living room, but the vague shadow outside my front window on the porch gave her away.
I opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. The sun was still up, but the sky was a beautiful mixture of orange and red as the sun crept toward the horizon.
My mother leaned against the rail, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and her eyes on the changing colors of the skies.
“You okay?” I asked her quietly as I leaned a hip against the porch railing next to her.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I thought that I would never see another one again, did you know that?”
I knew instantly that she was talking about seeing spirits.
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“I haven’t seen or heard a ghost since I was thirteen,” she continued. “Sometimes I could feel them, but even that faded as I got older.” She shot me a glance. “I know your dad told you a little about what your grandma was like.”
I nodded, but didn’t speak. I sensed that she needed to keep talking.
“She was a devout Baptist. When she realized that my imaginary friends weren’t really imaginary, she called me a witch. Then, as I got older, she was convinced that Satan himself lived inside of me.” My mother shook her head, pressing her lips together tightly. “For years, that woman beat me if she even thought I was talking to or looking at a spirit. I finally realized it was for the best if I refused to acknowledge them anymore.”
My mother’s hand came up to her face and I realized that tears were trickling down her cheeks as she remembered what she had suffered at the hands of her mother, my grandmother.
“That’s why I reacted so badly when I realized what you could do,” she murmured. “I knew people would say you were weird or some nut would think you were possessed, and I didn’t want that for you. I wanted you to enjoy a normal life.”
My mother’s eyes turned to me and, for the first time, I felt like I understood where she was coming from.
“I’m so sorry I acted like I did for so many years, Zoe,” she murmured. “I thought having a normal life would make you happy, but I realize now that I was wrong. Seeing you with Malachi…” she trailed off, sniffing and wiping her cheeks. “I think he’s perfect for you.”
I moved closer to her, putting my arms around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Mama.”
Her head rested against my collarbone. “Can
you forgive me, Zoe?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
“I just did,” I told her.
Her arms came around my waist, hugging me tight.
After a few moments, when we both had better control of our emotions, I released her and stepped back.
“So, what did you think of Teri?” I asked her.
The corner of my mother’s mouth tilted up in a half smile. “That woman has a potty mouth.”
I laughed. “Oh, you have no idea.”
Shaking her head, my mother let me guide her into the house. “She is kind of funny though,” she admitted.
“That’s exactly why I let her hang around,” I replied.
Arm and arm, we walked back into the kitchen and I realized that I felt lighter than I had since I was five years old.
Chapter
The next morning, the chirping of Mal’s cell phone woke us up.
For the last week, Mal had slept in my bed every night, holding me close. I was beginning to worry I’d never be able to sleep alone again.
“Yeah?” Mal asked, his voice deep and rough from sleep.
At the sound, I shivered against him and the arm beneath me wrapped around so that his hand smoothed over my hip and up my side. I froze when his fingers brushed the side of my breast through the thin tank top I wore to bed.
“Tonight?” he asked, sounding more alert. “Okay, I’ll tell Zoe.”
After he disconnected and put the phone back on the nightstand, he turned toward me, wrapping his other arm around me. I ducked my head a little, well aware that I probably had dragon breath strong enough to knock out a moose. He hugged me against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. I forced myself to ignore everything I felt below the waist; both his and mine.
“Who was that?” I asked, my question muffled against his skin.
“Carissa,” he replied, his hands pulling me a tiny bit closer. “She and Angie have a summoning spell and they want to try it tonight.”
I nodded, my nose rubbing against the smooth skin of his upper body. Though Mal had chest hair, it wasn’t heavy or thick, just a light dusting over his pectorals that gathered at the top of his toned abdomen and trailed in a line down to the shorts he wore to bed when he slept with me. I was pretty sure that he usually slept in his boxers or nothing at all, but wore the shorts for my comfort rather than his.
“I guess we’d better get up,” I muttered, my lips brushing Mal’s skin. I smiled slightly when he shuddered against me.
“Well, I have an idea of something else we could do if you’re not ready to get out of bed.”
I tilted my head back and lifted an eyebrow at him, forgetting all about my morning breath. “Oh really?”
He stared down at me, the heat in his eyes more intense than I’d ever seen it. Suddenly, I could no longer ignore what I was feeling below my waist, or what was happening below his.
I lifted a hand to his face. “I would love to do exactly that, Mal,” I began.
“But?” he prompted.
“But I’m not sure I could let go and enjoy it with two other men in the house, a perverted ghost who’s itching to watch, not to mention the dark, scary black cloud that’s tried to kill me twice now, and the living human being who tried to poison me with GHB.”
“Damn, those are all very good reasons,” he muttered, pressing his forehead to mine. He pulled away a few seconds later. “I’ll tell you what. As soon as all this is over, I’m kicking Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb out of your house, taking you out to dinner, and then…”
Still giggling, I prompted, “Then what?”
“We’ll see how you feel.”
I grinned up at him. “At this moment, I feel very good about everything you just said.”
He hugged me a little tighter before he released me. “Yeah, but that’s now. Let’s see how you feel when it happens.”
Honestly, I was pretty sure I would feel very, very good about the idea.
The day passed quickly after Mal and I got out of bed. I was helping him with location planning for the next few episodes and we discussed what areas we would want to save for when the network was ready to begin recording the show.
I called Jonelle to check on her and also let her know what was happening tonight. She insisted that she would be there, not wanting to miss the show. She sounded excited and I wondered what exactly she thought would happen because I didn’t feel the same anticipation. More like abject terror.
Later in the afternoon, Carissa and Angie showed up with several large bags full of tools, herbs, and liquids.
Angie explained that she wanted to be prepared for anything when they summoned the demon. From her experience, they were tricky bastards and she didn’t want him to get away.
“Experience?” I queried.
Angie looked up from the candle she was carving symbols into with an athame. “I have summoned a demon before,” she admitted. When my eyes widened, she carried on. “It was a situation similar to this, only the demon wasn’t quite as…violent as yours. In fact, you could say he was more a lover than a fighter.”
My eyes grew bigger and I knew I probably looked ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop myself. “A lover?” I gasped.
Angie smirked. “Yeah, he was an incubus. Do you know what that is?”
“A demon that feeds on sex, right?”
She nodded, returning her attention back to the candle. “The only problem is that he had latched on to a witch’s eighteen year old daughter.”
“Is she okay now?” I asked, curious about the world of witches.
Angie nodded, her smile widening. “Yeah. He wasn’t really hurting her, not like he could have.” She hesitated, setting the candle on the table in front of her. “I think maybe he was just lonely.”
I didn’t say anything because I had no input in regards to demons. I knew nothing about them. Could demons get lonely?
I suppressed a shudder when I remembered the malevolence I felt emanating from the dark cloud I’d faced twice now. It didn’t feel lonely. It felt…hungry.
“Most demons aren’t like that,” Angie continued. “Incubus are considered the lowest of all the demons, but others, well, they’re pure evil. They have no soul, no conscience, and no compassion. They take what they want, no matter the cost.”
“Are you speaking from experience in that regard too?” I asked.
Angie’s brown eyes snapped up to mine, small white sparks dancing in their depths. “Yes,” she answered abruptly.
Without another word, she set her athame aside and left the room. I watched her leave and glanced at Carissa to find the medium watching me.
“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” she explained. “The last demon she encountered, well, I can’t go into detail because it’s her story to tell, but I can say that the demon possessed someone that Angie cared about quite deeply.”
I winced. No wonder it was a sore spot.
Carissa leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands as she looked at me. “You know, now that Angie brought it up, I can see your power in your aura,” she stated. “If I hadn’t been so distracted the other night, I would have noticed it. Your power looks nothing like a typical medium’s.”
“You can see my aura?”
She nodded. “I don’t know if Mal told you, but most of my abilities are actually of the psychic variety. Speaking with the dead is just a small part of that.”
“Can you read minds?” I asked, hoping that the answer was no.
“Yes,” Carissa answered, smiling slightly, “Though I refrain unless I’m invited or I have no other choice.”
I wondered when she might feel as though she had no other choice but didn’t ask. I had a feeling I didn’t want to know.
“Can you see the future?”
She shook her head. “That’s precognition. Most of my abilities have to do with what people are thinking and feeling.”
“That’s actually pretty cool and
a little scary,” I said bluntly.
Instead of getting offended, Carissa laughed. “You’re right, it is. It’s both of those things.” She continued to study me for a few moments. “Have you given any more thought to studying with Angie’s coven?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Not really, though I do have to admit that understanding my abilities would go a long way in helping me control them.”
“Training would also help you grow your abilities,” the medium pointed out, brushing smooth strands of auburn hair away from her face. “That would come in handy on the show.”
She was right, but my desire for knowledge went beyond how it would benefit my job. If Angie was right and I was a necromancer, I needed to understand my talents better in order to understand myself. It was a power that would also be a part of me and it already shaped every aspect of my life.
“And your friend, Jonelle,” Carissa began before shutting her mouth and staring at the table.
“What about her?” I asked.
Carissa’s eyes met mine, the grey depths so dark they looked almost black. “It would be a good idea for her to receive training as well.” Her gaze lost focus, as though she were looking through me. “Her abilities will attract others.”
“Others?” I asked.
Carissa’s mouth quirked, but it was more of a quick grimace than a smile. “Others who walk the path of darkness.” Her eyes lost their faraway quality and I realized she was once again focused on me. “As long as you are both untutored in your power, you will be a target for those who reside in the shadows. They will either want to control you or take your powers from you.”
A shudder ran through my body at her words and Carissa seemed to realize what she had said. “I’m sorry, Zoe,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t have frightened you like that.”
“It’s true though, isn’t it?” I prodded.
Carissa bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly.
Though I was still feeling overwhelmed by the new knowledge that I was a necromancer, I realized I wasn’t going to have time to brood about it as I usually did my other problems. If Carissa was right, not only was I a beacon to the dead, but a target for the living.