The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1)

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The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1) Page 4

by Cara Crescent

“I'm not leaving.” A note of desperation entered her voice. “I have to be here.”

  “Why?”

  Lilith snapped her mouth shut, remaining silent.

  To hell with her, then. James opened the door.

  “Don't!”

  The way she shouted at him, he half expected to be attacked when he opened the door. No ambush waited on the porch, but the sight in the yard stopped him dead. His lips parted.

  What in the hell?

  She'd driven her little blue Toyota Camry head-first into the old cottonwood on the other side of the dirt drive. She'd left the car on and with the driver's door open the car pinged urgently.

  He leaned back against the doorjamb. This he wanted to hear. “You, uh, left your car running.”

  She sat on the stairs and covered her face with her hands. “Oh? I didn't notice.”

  Like hell. He thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “You going to go take care of it?”

  Her gaze shifted to the side and her heart-rate increased. “I'm, uh, afraid of”—she looked up, as if searching for divine intervention—”being outside. It's a phobia.” She made a little waving motion with her hand. “You know, I'm agroa, argoa—”

  “Agoraphobic.” Christ, she didn't even know how to pronounce the condition.

  “I can't go out there.” Her gaze darted from him to the open door and her heart increased tempo again, turning a little erratic. “Please, don't leave the front door open.”

  Liar. She expected him to believe she was agoraphobic and still drove herself here? But something out there scared her half to death. Shit. He'd walk away from anyone else. But not her. He cursed. “Are you going to tell me what the hell you're doing here?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you?”

  A burst of ill-placed humor erupted from his chest. His rusty amusement sounded so foreign, he clamped his mouth shut. He needed to get out of there. He let the door slam shut behind him, but instead of walking around the side of the house to where he'd parked his bike, he headed toward her car. The hair on his arms lifted and he slowed as he approached. Something had been out here with her. Some kind of lesser daemon. The air still held a current of electricity from the creature's manifestation. He glanced back toward the house. Is that why she refused to say anything? If she thought him human, she might worry he'd think her crazy.

  No. She'd seen his scars and those lovely eyes had filled with wariness when they'd settled on the one at the base of his neck. She knew what he was, which made him wonder . . . what was she?

  At first glance, Lilith appeared human with a beating heart, and warm and rosy skin. Her eyes didn't have the shine of a nocturnal predator. She didn't have any of the trademarks of a lycan or vampire. Still, that left a slew of other daemon races, some of which were impossible to detect without a thorough examination.

  He walked around to the driver's side, peering in the windows and the open door. Whatever had attacked her had left. He pulled the seat back, tucked the airbag out of his way and sat behind the wheel. He turned off the ignition, silencing the infernal pinging. Aside from the front-end damage and the deployed airbag, the windshield needed to be replaced. She'd have a hell of a time getting the job done without risking attention from the police. Not with that bloody hole in the center of the glass.

  That's why she’d hit the tree, to throw her attacker into the windshield. A slow smile spread on his face. Good girl. She had mettle and Christ, did he like that.

  A pentacle hung from the rearview mirror. He touched the pagan symbol, sending it spinning on its chain. They’d killed anyone in possession of such a mark back in his time as a human. Nowadays, they were a fucking fad.

  His gaze dropped to the dash. Long, narrow marks scarred the surface. The passenger seat upholstery sported similar damage. That explained the blood seeping through the arms of her sweater. She'd faced a daemon with claws.

  Neither vampire nor lycan did this, but something smaller. Odd. At one time, as many daemons as humans walked the earth, but since the portals to the daemon realm closed, he'd seen fewer and fewer. He'd honestly thought the only daemons left on this side were vampires and lycans. So where'd she find this one?

  James turned the engine on, backed the car away from the tree and parked at the end of the drive. He'd make arrangements for the repairs. Fixing the car wasn't a problem.

  She was the problem.

  He got out and leaned his forearms on the roof. All these years, he thought he'd somehow failed the night he'd rescued her from the old woman. The Historian said he'd find his humanity and reward at this house if he obeyed the Watchers. He'd assumed he'd rescued the wrong person or fucked up the job in some way because he'd never found his humanity. This house held no portal to paradise. But now he wondered. . . .

  Maybe his assignment with her wasn’t finished.

  Was that why he'd woken in the house this morning with no memory of the last few days? Had the Watchers done something to ensure he'd be here when she arrived?

  He eyed the house over the top of the car.

  Who the hell was she?

  Chapter 5

  Lilith wanted to disappear.

  Her mate must think her a complete basket case. She hadn't even thought to turn off the car. Granted she happened to be running away from Aimee at the time, but she couldn't tell him that. He'd want her to explain how she became so familiar with his world and she could never tell him about the coven.

  The door opened and he shouldered his way in with her bags.

  She shot to her feet. “I didn't expect— Thank you.” She dropped to her knees next to him and flipped open her suitcases and unzipped her bags, checking to make sure Aimee hadn't hitched a ride inside in one of them. Once satisfied no evil entity lurked beneath her underwear, she stood. “I, uh . . . .” She folded her arms in front of her. “I'm sorry for earlier.”

  “Seems you've had an eventful day.” He shrugged. “I'll make allowances.”

  She bit her cheek to keep from asking for his excuse for his rudeness, not wanting to start another argument. He'd just dig his heels in again. “I appreciate you seeing things my way and I am glad I got to see you again.”

  He leaned back against the door, and smirked. “I think you've mistaken my intentions.”

  He'd brought in her bags, obviously she would be staying and . . . . “You are leaving, right?”

  “Yeah. I gotta go to work.”

  She didn't like the amusement lighting his eyes. “And . . .”

  “What would you like me to bring home for supper, honey?”

  Lilith closed her eyes and counted to ten. “You. Can't. Stay. Here.”

  “I'll pick up whatever looks good.” He opened the door and headed out.

  What exactly might a freaking vampire decide to bring home for dinner? “Wait.” She lunged forward, wedging her foot between the door and the jamb. “I prefer veggies. Yogurt. Cheese. Crackers. Fruit.”

  He leaned against the other side of the door jamb, his face inches from hers.

  “Bottled water. Soda. Chocolate. Oh, gods, I'm going to need chocolate.”

  He chuckled. “Listen. The house . . . it makes a lot of noise around twilight. Change in the temperature or something.” He met her gaze, the intensity there belying his casual tone. “Don't get spooked.”

  “Twilight?”

  “Mm.” He nodded. “Astronomical twilight, too, but I should be back by then.”

  Ghosts appeared at twilight and dawn. “You're trying to scare me.”

  “No, I'm giving you a heads up so you don't kill yourself running away from a bunch of harmless noise.”

  She looked up to the sky. Dark clouds made the evening appear further along that it was, surely the only reason he could be out there, but twilight wasn't far off.

  “You'll be fine.” He pushed away from the door. “My assistant, Lou, will be out with a crew to fix your car later.”

  “No. You don't have to do that.” She already owed him for his help twenty year
s ago.

  “It's already done. Leave them alone to do their work. Don't pester them.”

  The repairs would eat a huge chunk of her savings. “I'll pay for whatever—”

  “They won't charge for the work.”

  She sighed. Of course not.

  He slipped on a pair of sunglasses and disappeared around the side of the house.

  Lilith closed and locked the door. Great. Now she owed him twice.

  A moment later, the rumble of a motorcycle raced passed. She grinned, shaking her head. He seemed the type to ride a bike.

  Gods, what had she gotten herself into? She'd come with the hopes of finding a way to get rid of Aimee. Now Aimee lurked somewhere outside this house, a ghost haunted the inside of the house, and she'd gotten herself more indebted to the mate she couldn't keep because he happened to be a vampire. “I am so screwed.”

  The house swallowed up her words, the place too quiet now with her mate gone. White sheets covered the furniture. Boards blocked the window, leaving thin tentacles of light streaming through.

  Damn it. He'd gotten to her. She was officially spooked.

  He probably expected her to be long gone by the time he came back. Not a chance. She owned this house and she fully intended to make this her home.

  A bit of light and a good cleansing would keep this old place from being so creepy. She knelt down and pulled out the small box that contained her smudge sticks from her suitcase. As a child with Magic, she'd been able to not only cleanse the negative energy from a space by smudging, but also any dust or grime. In her hands as an adult with no Magic, they'd only chase away negativity. She stood with the items and turned toward the kitchen, only to stop dead in her tracks.

  The lights were on. All of them.

  She glanced up the split staircase and sure enough even the hall at the top glowed with warm light. Did the ghost turn on the lights? She pulled her phone out of her pocket and searched for the time of twilight in Carnation. No. She still had plenty of time before twilight.

  Magic?

  Hope unfurled in her belly. Lilith closed her eyes, envisioning the darkened house. Imagined slowing the currents of electricity flowing through the walls until it stopped.

  She opened her eyes.

  The house was dark.

  With all the excitement this evening, she hadn't noticed the subtle change. But now, standing still, she couldn’t miss the old power thrumming through her veins. Not anywhere near as strong as in her youth, but her Magic had returned.

  Once again, she pictured the house lit with soft glowing lights and they flickered back to life. With a whoop, she danced a little jig in the front entry, shaking her bootie and shimmying her shoulders until peals of joyous laughter overtook her. “Thank you, gods. Thank you. Thank you.”

  She needed to call Trina. She started to take her phone out, but paused. No. First she needed to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Her grip tightened on the box of smudge sticks. What was the spell? With Magic, she could give this house a proper cleansing. She'd need to be careful not to overdo. She wasn't as strong as before. But the cleansing spell was simple, and one she'd done often as a child. What are the words?

  She removed one bundle and lit the white herbs with a match, blowing on the end of the stick. The flame died and as the sage continued to smolder; thick white smoke billowed up from the end of the wand. The pungent, earthy smell replaced the musty odor permeating the house, helping to calm her.

  The words.

  “With smoke so pure, positivity is ensured. And a scent so clean, to make every surface gleam. For this I ask, or something more. With respect and love, I do implore.”

  She waved the wand over the round table standing in the middle of the entryway and the grime evaporated, leaving polished wood in its wake.

  Lilith grinned. The words weren't quite right, but they'd do.

  She walked toward the living room, leaving behind gleaming hardwoods with each step. Holding an abalone shell under the smudge stick to collect the ashes, she wandered the lower rooms, waving the smoking wand toward each shelf, chair, and window.

  If only she could do the same for—damn. She'd failed to get her mate's name again. Both times she'd met him he’d appeared so serious. Did the man ever smile? Oh, he smirked several times, but did he smile? At one point this afternoon, when he'd started to laugh, he’d seemed to startle himself with the burst of humor, but the lines in the corners of his eyes indicated at one time he had smiled often.

  What the heck was she supposed to do with him? If he stayed, the coven would eventually discover him, but as his mate, she didn't like the idea of kicking him out if he had nowhere else to go. Maybe she should give him a little time to find another place. Heck, she'd help him. And if he did end up staying here a day or two, she'd make sure he learned to smile again. That's the least she could do in return for his help.

  Gods, what was she thinking? She must have lost her mind.

  Lilith pulled her phone out and dialed Trina.

  “What's up?”

  Lilith answered in a sing-song voice. “Guess who has her Magic back?” Silence. “Trina?”

  “I'm speechless. Are you serious?”

  Lilith grinned. “Sure am. Right now, I'm doing a cleansing spell at Haven House, making everything shiny and bright.”

  “What about Aimee?”

  “Um, well, she's . . . gone.” Lilith cringed a bit at the half-truth. Technically, Aimee wasn't here and she saw no reason to worry Trina by telling her the entity might be lurking outside somewhere waiting for her.

  “Did you tell the coven?”

  Lilith sighed. “No. There's no reason to. They didn't want me and I have no intention of running over and asking to be reinstated.”

  Trina scoffed. “Their loss. You and me, we'll have our own coven—the Outcast coven.” As kids they’d bonded quickly, ostracized by the other girls. The orphans feared she'd tattle on them to her grandmother. They'd feared Trina for different reasons. Trina possessed chaos Magic, and was both empath and telepath. Her ability fascinated Lilith, and years ago she’d allowed Trina to open a link connecting their minds and enabling them to chat without being overheard. Unfortunately, their link only worked when they occupied the same space.

  “Sounds good to me.” She glanced over the freshly cleaned lower rooms. Beautiful. She returned to the foyer, tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and opened the door underneath the split staircase. If Haven House possessed a heart, the ritual room contained it. “Listen I, uh, I need some advice.”

  On the floor in the center of the room was the sacred circle, which encompassed a pentacle, its points stretching out to touch the walls. Cobwebs hung from the rafters, a buildup of residual Magic, which lingered long after the witches left.

  “Advice. From me?” Trina asked.

  “Yeah, well, you have more experience with men and—”

  “Men? Hold on.” She heard a flurry of movement on the other end of the line. “Okay. I'm comfortable. Who is he?”

  Lilith's lips twisted into a wry smile. “Um, well—”

  “Gods, Lil, you got your Magic back, Aimee left, and you met a guy. You've had a hell of a week.”

  More like a hell of a day.

  “Please tell me you didn't pick another spineless little twerp.”

  “Ah, no. He's—”

  “Good grief, dish already.”

  “Quit interrupting. I hate it when you do that.” Lilith took a deep breath. “He's my mate.”

  “What?”

  “My. Mate. My mate. Mate. I damn well know you know what I'm talking about. Don't make me say it again.”

  “Okay. Okay. I'm just having a mild heart attack over here. Are you serious? Lilith, we've talked about this. He was like forty when we were kids. If he's your mate, you're not going to be able to have a serious relationship with him until the next lifetime.”

  She drew in a calming breath, nodding. “Yeah, except he . . . .”

  “He wha
t?”

  “Okay, don't freak out.”

  “I'm already freaking out. You sound like you're hyperventilating. What did he do to you? Wait, he's like what . . . sixty now, what could he possibly have done to you?”

  Lilith laughed, the sound a little shrill. “Oh, I'm thinking he's older. Except he doesn't show his age much. He looks . . . .”

  “What?”

  “The same.” Lilith grimaced.

  Trina didn't speak.

  Lilith continued to cleanse the ritual room while waiting.

  “Tell me he's gone through major plastic surgery.”

  “I can't.”

  “Goddess bless you, you can't keep him.”

  Chapter 6

  “I've told myself that. I tried to kick him out, but he saved my life and now he's fixing my car and he's coming back tonight bringing me groceries and I need food. I didn't eat on the plane. And he really doesn't seem interested in moving out. And holy gods, he's hot as hell.”

  “Yeah, literally. He's a fucking daemon, Lilith.” Another flurry of movement came from the other end. Trina must have gotten up to pace. She always paced when working out a problem. “Okay, maybe we're making more of this than needed. What do you think he is? A djinn? Gallu? Some sort of shifter?”

  As if she'd ever been so lucky. “How long have you known me?”

  “A vampire. Right. Because everything has to be difficult with you.”

  “I know what I should do, but I've got this weird urge to see him happy even though he’s annoyingly bossy. Cantankerous, even.” She nodded to herself. Grouchy. “For the half hour we talked I spent most of the time annoyed, but I couldn't stop staring. I kept wanting to give him a hug, like some crazed, lonely purple dinosaur with daddy issues. What do I do?”

  “TMI.” Trina blew out a deep sigh. “Gods, Lil, part of me wants to scream at you to throw him the fuck out. If the coven finds out—”

  “Yeah, Rowena wouldn't hesitate to sic the coven on him even if he is my mate.”

  The coven preferred to keep their identity and abilities a secret. In the past, when less careful, humans feared them, making survival a challenge. And daemons . . . for many ages witches and daemons worked together in peace. All the way up until the Clearances. Legend said the vampire race turned on the coven. Ever since, each generation of the Grigori coven hid from both humans and daemons.

 

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