The woman on the other side obviously had expected Varina to answer, but she covered with a fake smile so practiced, the lines on her face seemed to relax with it in place. She was dressed like she was on her way to church, a big hat complete with lace and trim affixed to her head. What little of her hair was visible from under the hat was a hard, platinum blond. Her eyes were sharp, her makeup bold. She sized Campbell up like prey.
Whoever she was, she wasn’t here to make nice.
“Well, hello,” the woman drawled, her voice a sickly Southern kind of sweet. The sort that took generations to perfect. “And who might you be?”
Campbell’s eyes narrowed. “You knocked, lady. Who the hell are you?”
The fake smile grew wider, if such was possible. “I am Mrs. Jenning Jefferson. And you are on my property.”
That was quite the bombshell. “You always knock before entering your own home?”
Mrs. Jenning Jefferson huffed and edged her pristine white gloves off her—yep—immaculately manicured hand. “And you are?”
“Campbell.”
“Campbell who?”
“Campbell blow-it-out-your-ass.” He smiled. “You’re the wicked stepmom, aren’t you? Bring General Lee, or is he waiting in the car?”
Her eyes darkened, but the smile remained in place. “I see Varina’s been telling tall tales again.”
Campbell crossed his arms. “You wanna tell me what you want, Mrs. Jefferson? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you’re not on the welcome list.”
The woman stuck her pointy chin as high in the air as was physically possible. “I require no welcome to enter my own home.”
“Yeah?” came a voice from behind. “Well, tough shit this isn’t your home anymore.”
Campbell looked over his shoulder in time to see a pissed-off redhead making a beeline in his direction. He stepped aside and back, but not out of sight.
Varina propped her arm on the frame. “What do you want, Lina?”
The fake smile was back in full force. “Varina, dear. So lovely to see you.”
“Cut the shit and talk. Fast.”
At that, the woman’s armor began to chip. “I just wanted to see you. It’s been such a long time.” She looked over Varina’s shoulder and met Campbell’s eyes. “She wouldn’t come home, you see. Her father so wanted to make amends before he passed, but no matter how hard we looked, we couldn’t—”
Varina held up a hand. “He’s not much into theatre, so the dramatics won’t work. And he’s like me.”
“An ungrateful ingrate?”
For a moment, Campbell thought Varina might explode on the woman. Her hands tightened into fists and her jaw clenched so hard it looked painful. Instead, though, she released a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders.
“The house isn’t yours, Lina,” she said, her tone soft. Steady. “And it’s never going to be. You’re wasting your time here.”
The mask on the older woman’s face slipped another notch. “I don’t know what you did to him,” she said, her words sharp and thickly accented, “but it won’t stand. My lawyer is looking over everything your father signed before he died; so do not get too comfortable. I swear to you, you will not be staying long.”
“The only comfort I have is knowing he came to his senses and dumped your ass before he kicked the bucket,” Varina replied brightly. “Well, that and the fact that neither you nor Robert will set foot in this house again.”
The façade of cold politeness disappeared altogether. “Robert is more his child than you ever were.”
“Get off my property.”
Lina turned to Campbell, her wide eyes imploring. “Can’t you talk to her? This was just as much my home as it was hers. Her father wouldn’t have wanted this.”
Campbell shrugged. “Sorry. I’m too busy being an ungrateful ingrate to give much of a damn.”
At that, Varina looked over her shoulder and their gazes connected. Something sparked within hers that made his breath hitch. It was small but impossible to miss.
Lina squared her shoulders, no sign of her fake smile present now. “I will be back. This is not over.”
“Good. That’ll give me the pleasure of throwing you out all over again.”
Before the woman could respond, Varina stepped back and slammed the door shut, which made the whole wall rattle. Those old antebellum doors weren’t made for slamming, but she managed just fine.
The silence that settled was a thick, awkward one. Varina watched the door, every inch of her body still coiled tight. Campbell fought the urge to reach for her. Touch her shoulder, her arm, pull her toward him in some measure of comfort. Because whatever else, he knew that hadn’t been planned.
At last, Varina inhaled aimed her feet again at the stairwell. She didn’t say anything as she moved, didn’t even look at him before she disappeared from sight. Her steps were heavy up the stairs, even and measured, and they halted when she reached the second floor. He heard her move toward her bedroom before all went quiet again.
Then the muted sound of shattered glass broke through the calm, chased by a raw, frustrated cry.
Campbell swallowed, breathing hard and wrestling with the need to check on her and the knowledge that he shouldn’t. Varina didn’t need him, and he didn’t need to embed himself anymore in her life than he had already. If she wanted to vent her anger by smashing every breakable in the house, that was her prerogative. Something told him she’d earned the right.
In the meantime, there were things he could do to make himself useful. Starting with the groceries still waiting in the kitchen.
Varina stared at the rainbow of broken glass, her chest heaving and her ears filled with a dull buzz. Somewhere between downstairs and hurling the bookend through the window, she had clicked offline. It was a defense mechanism, one she hadn’t relied upon in a long, long time. When confronted with an ugly emotion, she would shut down, bottle up and remove herself from the moment until she was free to reconnect.
In her weaker moments, Varina wasn’t sure which monster was worse. Legion had all but destroyed her, torn her from her home, turned her father against her, and left her cursed as a demon-homing beacon. Yet at least he was upfront about being an evil asshole. Lina had no such excuse.
Now the bitch was here. Of course she was. Lina wouldn’t have been able to sit still once she’d caught word that Varina was back in town. That Varina had taken up residence in the home Lina had so proudly tossed her out of. Lina was, after all, the missing puzzle piece that made coming back to Mount Zion a truly hellish jaunt down memory lane.
The only component that didn’t fit was Campbell.
Varina swallowed hard and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Campbell had brought something into this house that she hadn’t had since her mother had passed—a sense of accountability. As a result, he had her innate distrust warring with the rest of her. A part of her knew that, if Campbell had an ulterior motive, she could handle him. She hadn’t started slaying demons yesterday, and built though Campbell was, she’d taken down men three times his size.
It was more what he was—what he represented that frightened her. Not that she should trust him, but that she wanted to. The thing she saw in his eyes—the thing she was certain he didn’t want anyone to see—was so familiar and terrible, it damn near broke her. The screams she’d heard the night before…whatever pursued him in his sleep didn’t rest during the day. If it was anything like the monsters that had chased her, it wouldn’t stop until he turned around and let it do its worst.
Trust was currency, and exchange rates differed person to person. The last man—the last person—she’d trusted had been her father. And she hadn’t even known when he’d gotten sick. Hadn’t known he had died until after the funeral. Hadn’t heard him asking for her on his deathbed, just the stories the lawyer had told afterward.
Getting lost in the past wouldn’t help her present. From experience, Varina knew well that Legion thrived on stirring darker
emotions. That much the books and movies got right. Demons like Legion had been born in a place of fear and torment, and there was no better way to open a human mind than to evoke those sensations. A terrified human was prone to jump at shadows, make mistakes. Their thoughts were scattered, internal defenses down. There was no easier target. Anger worked in the same way.
She knew this about demons. About Legion.
Yet she was still human. So she’d given into her baser instincts and broken the damn window. But that moment had passed and she was in control again.
Varina knelt to the floor beside the sea of glass to survey the damage. Then went still, the hot, sickly feeling she knew so well seizing her with such ferocity, that she felt sucker-punched.
Reflected in the largest glass shard was a shadow. An undefined shadow—a shadow that didn’t belong. It was over her shoulder, hovering, casting her face in darkness. Varina’s throat worked, her gaze fixed on her reflection. On the shadow that didn’t belong. Her skin flooded with heat. She heard her breaths accelerate, felt her blood rush and her heart begin to thunder. She experienced all these things as though she was outside her body, an interested observer.
She reached for the glass without taking her eyes off the shadow, but her hands—her damn hands—were shaking so hard her finger skimmed the glass’s edge. Her flesh split, then welled with blood.
A choked sound climbed through Varina’s throat. She felt tears she didn’t remember crying on her cheeks. They were hot too. Hot like her insides, her veins, her chest and head.
Something grabbed her wrist, and slammed her onto the ground, beneath the heated presence of an attacker she couldn’t see. She climbed to her knees again and swung out with her other hand—the one not bleeding—but there was nothing to hit. It had her wrist but it had no body, seen or unseen. She felt no breath on her neck, no weight at her back. She felt nothing at all.
Then a warm wet tongue touched her bleeding finger, and the welling red vanished.
Varina opened her mouth to scream, but her voice betrayed her, and her body was right behind it. The floor rushed her, and she collided with a hard thunk, bits of glass embedding into open flesh. She inhaled, braced her weight on her palms, but the shadow wasn’t done. In a flash, she found herself on her back, staring up at the cream-colored ceiling, a band coming around her throat.
And then it hit her, full force. As though someone had opened a door in her mind and all of Pandora’s horrors had been freed. The sickly hot fear she knew so well pitched toward fever. She couldn’t see the demon, couldn’t even feel it beyond its grip on her larynx. There was no arm, no pressure at her chest. Even the shadow had gone, faded under the warm sunlight pouring in through the broken window. Varina kicked her legs and pulled at her neck, but there was nothing to pull.
The corners of her vision began to blacken. She was seconds from passing out.
And then it would be over. She knew what happened next. Legion made a home for itself in her body.
Protesting wouldn’t work. This demon wasn’t in her world. It wasn’t here. She couldn’t fight it here.
Varina closed her eyes and forced herself to still.
I’m not a child. This isn’t then.
The pressure on her throat let up, sending in a sliver of air. She sucked it in greedily, her eyes watering.
I am not a child. This isn’t then.
Not a child—she wasn’t helpless, and she wasn’t alone. Even if it took her body, she’d take it back. She wouldn’t let it win. Not then, when she had been a child, and not now. She was too strong. It had no idea who it was fucking with now.
Then, without pomp and circumstance, everything faded. The pressure at her throat released, and her mouth fell open, welcoming in tufts of cool, delicious air. Her chest heaved and her lungs overindulged. The racing cadence of her heart flooded her ears. Her skin felt cool—all of her did.
Varina sat still for a long moment before allowing herself to pry open her eyes.
The room was empty.
She let out a little humorless laugh before pulling herself up. She laughed again as she stood, and again as she dusted herself off. She couldn’t help but laugh.
She knew if she stopped, she’d fall hard the other way.
Varina had no idea how much time passed before she felt in control again, nor was she certain if control was a lie she told herself.
If it was, she needed the lie now. At least until she got downstairs.
She needed to believe she could make it there without stumbling back again.
11
While Varina cooled off upstairs, Campbell shelved the groceries and took a broom to the mess outside. He found that he didn’t mind the mundane tasks. At the very least, keeping busy kept his mind in a state of constant occupation, which meant the things he didn’t want to think about were maintained at a nice distance from center stage.
After dumping the shards of broken glass into the nearest trashcan, Campbell headed back to the kitchen, where he found Varina nursing a cup of coffee. She met his gaze over the rim of the mug.
“You got a blend,” she said.
“A damn good one, if I don’t say so myself.”
She hummed her approval and took another sip. “I didn’t peg you as a blend kinda guy.”
“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
She graced him with a soft smile. “You are that.”
Her smile had the impact of a steamroller. Such a small thing, a smile. A small, sweet thing. There was no reason—at least none he could think of—why seeing one on her face should cause any reaction on him. Little about his body’s pull toward her made sense. Everything since meeting her the day before had seemed beyond his control.
Campbell flexed his hands into fists to keep from doing something stupid, like touching her—any part of her. Every time they were close, his skin hummed with the need to be pressed against hers, which would be just fine if it was just any other attraction. But it wasn’t any other attraction.
Varina took another sip of coffee before setting her cup on the island. “Are you going to ask me?”
“What?”
“About Lina. And what happened.”
“No.”
“No? I thought you’d want to know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Campbell asked. When she didn’t answer, he continued, “People have secrets, people have things they don’t wanna talk about. People have their reasons for not wanting to talk too. My line of thinking is, you wanna talk to me, I’ll listen. I want to know, but my wanting to know doesn’t mean you owe it to me to tell me. I think it’s safe to say you owe me jack shit. So…with any of it, you tell me when you want to, if you want to.”
Varina pressed her lips together. It was unnerving, the way she considered him. Over the last day, he’d learned she wasn’t overly expressive, which made those soft smiles all the more meaningful, and those long looks so inscrutable.
She inhaled and opened her mouth to speak. And he thought this was it—this was when she was going to start to trust him.
“Legion was upstairs.”
Campbell blinked at her. “What?”
“In my room,” she said, her voice calm.
He stepped forward. “What happened?”
“I was mad. I broke my window. I tried to calm down.” Varina sighed. “When you’re angry or afraid. You know what happens—your mind is all over the place.”
He nodded before he could stop himself. Yes, he knew that feeling all too well.
“Well, Lina…”
“She pisses you off.”
Varina’s smile returned, this one slightly more acidic. “That’s putting it lightly. Legion preys on that. At least he did when I was a kid. Every time I was scared or angry, that was when Legion would come.”
“What happened upstairs?”
“Legion caught me in a weak moment. I was mad. I cut myself.” She held up a hand, demonstrating a fine line on her index finger. There were a f
ew other cuts as well, now that he looked. All small and cosmetic, but she’d definitely tangled with something. “It…it was drawn to that. And tried to choke me.”
Campbell staggered forward another step. “Choke you?”
“Yeah. To get me to pass out, I’d imagine. Easier to take the body that way.”
He stared at her. “Don’t kick my ass for asking, but are you all right? That’s…”
This time, her smile wasn’t acidic. It was a shade of what she’d given him before. “I’m okay,” she said. “I… I’m not doing myself any favors by lying. Legion terrifies me. And he knows he terrifies me. That gives him power. That entire part of my life is… I’m not ready to talk about it right now, but I think I should. I think that’ll make dealing with Legion easier.” Varina paused, drew in another breath. “I’ve been at this alone my whole life. I’m not used to having someone else—here or anywhere.”
A pang struck Campbell in the chest and vibrated outward, magnified by guilt and something else he couldn’t name. He tried to tell himself this was for the best—he was here to capture Legion, after all, which would help her along the way. But capturing Legion at the cost of breaking someone’s trust didn’t seem worth the payout. And that was what this would come to, eventually. One day, Varina would have to learn what he was, or he would just vanish and she’d be alone again. Either way, whatever comfort he could bring her was a lie. A lie with an expiration date.
The past few weeks had been a study in self-hatred regarding his weakness and fear.
But he couldn’t let her see that. He had a job to do.
“I’m going to go check upstairs,” he said at last.
She shrugged and stepped aside. “Okay. I don’t think you’ll find anything now. If memory serves, Legion doesn’t stay in one area for long. It wants every room to feel unsafe, not just one or two.”
“Maybe. I just wanna see for myself.”
He turned and headed for the hall before she could say anything else. By the time his boots hit the stairs, his hands had started to shake and his heart to pound. The slightest thing set him off anymore, and it seemed to be getting worse with the permanent jumbled state his mind was locked inside.
Deliverance from Sin: A Demonic Paranormal Romance (Sinners & Saints Book 5) Page 12