“It’s lovely,” I said truthfully. “How many bedrooms?”
“Four, but that can be changed,” he replied.
I nodded and kept staring. “I thought we were going to build it together.”
“We are.”
“But…” I said ,then gasped.
With a wave of his hand, the house collapsed in on itself. Gone was the elegant home. A pile of rubble remained atop a large concrete foundation.
“I didn’t mean for you to do that,” I said. “I just thought…”
With another wave of his hand, a new house took its place. It was a gorgeous fieldstone home with pillars flanking an impressively carved teak front door. As magnificent as it was, it was still homey and inviting.
“Do you like it?” he inquired.
“What’s not to like? It’s beautiful.”
“Knock it down, Daisy,” he urged.
“Are you serious?” I asked, shocked.
“Very,” he replied.
“Umm… not sure I can,” I told him, feeling a strange tingle of adrenaline shoot through me. “I’m good with trees and ripping off car doors, but I don’t know if I can demolish a house.”
Gideon gently pushed me forward. “Knock it down, Daisy. See what happens.”
“You’re nuts.”
Gideon grinned. “I thought we were going to stop discussing my balls.”
“Only in public,” I shot back with a laugh. “In private, your balls are fair game.” All of this was absurd. “Should I punch it?”
“I’d hate to see you break your hand,” Gideon said. “Try using something else.”
“My head?” I suggested, thinking it wasn’t any better of an idea than my fist.
Gideon’s laugh rang out and the sound made me feel pretty damned good. But I still thought headbutting a stone house wasn’t going to end well.
“Use your mind,” he said softly. “Your magic.”
Rolling my eyes, I groaned. “Just because I can get out of your hold and bust through John Travolta’s bubbles does not mean I can demolish a freaking house.”
Gideon shrugged. “You’ll never know until you try.”
Direct challenges were difficult to pass up.
“Fine,” I huffed. “But if you laugh at me when I fail, I’ll take it out on your fully descended balls.”
Again, he laughed.
Again, I felt delight.
“Screw it,” I said, slashing my arm through the air and sending my thoughts at the lovely house.
The rumble caught me off guard. A stone house falling down was much louder than a wooden one.
“What the hell?” I shouted as I watched the destruction in shock.
Gideon’s arms encircled me from behind and he held me close. “What’s left of the house?”
“Not much worth saving,” I said, still unsettled and strangely excited I’d been able to do it.
“Ahh, but there is. The most important part of the house is still there.”
Leaning back on him, I eyed the huge mess and then smiled. He was correct.
“The foundation,” I whispered. “The foundation is still there.”
“Yep,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “The house can fall many times, but a strong foundation is all we need to rebuild.”
“This is your way of telling me it’s okay that I didn’t tell you about my suspicions?” I asked.
“It is.”
“Kind of dramatic,” I said with a little giggle.
“Possibly,” Gideon agreed, “but you’ll never forget it.”
He had that right.
“Gram loved you with all she had for your entire life,” Gideon said. “Her wellbeing is your responsibility. I feel the same way about you.”
“Thank you, Gideon.”
“You’re most welcome, Daisy.”
Looking up at him, I smiled. “Do you think there’s a bed underneath all that rubble?”
“I do believe there might be a bed to be found,” he said in a tone laced with amusement. “Are you sleepy?”
“Not at all.” I grabbed his hand and marched him toward our foundation. I wanted to try out the position I’d seen in his mind. “Are you sleepy?”
“Nope. I could stay up all night with the right incentive.”
“Pretty sure I know what the right incentive might be,” I said.
His laugh filled me up. I craved it.
“I’m positive you do.”
Chapter Twenty
“Go home and get your clothes and some other stuff,” I said as we pulled up in front of my farmhouse. “I’ll be fine.”
“Is that Heather’s car?” Gideon asked, scanning the driveway.
“Yep, it’s a rental since I totaled her other one,” I replied.
It was dark out now. The stars were small glittering dots in the distance and the moon hung low in the sky illuminating the yard with a warm yellow glow.
“I’m surprised she’s still here,” Gideon said.
“Me too. We’ve been gone for five hours,” I said with a wide and very satisfied smile on my lips. “I don’t think it would have taken Heather five hours to straighten up and take Donna and Karen out to do their business. My guess is she stayed to talk or fell asleep on the couch.”
Gideon’s smile was as wide as mine. The position I’d seen in his mind had been even better in practice. I’d be searching his thoughts for more of those kind of things…
“It should only take me a half hour.” He checked his watch then kissed my nose. “How about popcorn and a movie when I get back?”
“Perfect,” I said.
Tomorrow would get here soon enough. Plans for finding Clarissa and getting my mother’s soul back would be made in the morning with people who had far more experience than I did with the Immortal world. Tonight was mine and Gideon’s… and Gram’s and Steve’s… and the squatters and Heather’s, if they were up for a movie.
“Do you like Happy Gilmore?”
“I don’t know him,” Gideon replied. “Is he a friend?”
I laughed. “Nope. It’s a movie. It’s a hot mess and it’s hilarious. Gram loves it because her boyfriend Bob Barker is in it. I promised to watch it with her. Do you mind?”
“Not a bit,” Gideon said. “Sounds excellent.”
“If your expectations aren’t too high and you think poop jokes are funny, then excellent fits,” I told him.
Gideon shrugged. “As long as I can sit next to you on the couch, I stand by my statement.”
“You’re going to have to fight off Donna and Karen for the honor,” I told him as I got out of the car.
“Those girls love me,” he said as he slowly pulled away. “Not a problem. Be back soon, and I like extra butter on my popcorn.”
“Got it,” I said with a laugh. “Go so you can come back. Donna, Karen and I will be waiting.”
My fur babies did love him. They had very good taste.
“Crap,” I muttered as I pulled the handwritten note off the front door and read it.
Rental car wouldn’t start.
Transported home.
Dogs did their business. Twice.
Living room is clean and I ran the dishwasher.
Will pick up car tomorrow.
xoxo Heather… your sister (I’m still digesting that one LOL)
I considered calling Gideon and asking him to turn the car around and come back but decided against it. He’d be back in a half an hour. Besides, I’d just demolished a house for the love of everything unreal. I’d be fine on my own for a freaking half hour.
Fishing my keys out of my purse, I grinned when I thought about the past several hours at our house. In between orgasms—his and mine—we’d discussed the kinds of houses we liked. Neither of us wanted anything fussy or traditional. Open floor plans, lots of natural light and wood, a gourmet kitchen—for him, since he was the far better chef—along with a really big master bed were at the top of our list.
The idea of customizing
something specifically for us from the foundation up excited me. Creating a home from scratch with Gideon would be a first. I’d never done anything like it. Steve and I had fixed up the farmhouse, but we hadn’t built it. Although, I wasn’t sure I was ready to sell the farmhouse. Maybe, I’d rent it out or turn it into a bed and breakfast.
Entering the house, I froze as a feeling of foreboding took hold of me. I flipped on the light switch and glanced around in horror.
The couches were slashed and stuffing was strewn everywhere. Pictures and paintings had been ripped from the walls and torn to shreds. The tables were overturned and broken and my overstuffed armchair looked as if it had been incinerated. Shards of glass covered the floor and not a ghost was to be found.
“What the hell?” I choked out.
Hindsight was 20/20. Not checking that Heather was actually at the house was unwise. Insisting Gideon leave was a shitty plan. Deciding not to call him when I realized Heather wasn’t here might have been my final mistake.
Dropping my purse and slamming myself up against the wall so no one could come at me from behind, I inched along the wall back towards the front door.
My house was trashed, and my dogs definitely hadn’t done it.
My stomach plummeted. Where were my dogs?
Where were my babies?
“Donna? Karen?” I called out in a shaky voice. “Do you guys want a treat?”
Both of my furry girls bound out from behind the couch and practically knocked me over. My relief was so intense, tears pooled in my eyes. They were panting hard, and Karen shook like a leaf. Donna sat at my feet facing away, baring her sharp teeth and growling at the vandalized room.
“Oh my God,” I said, squatting down and trying to calm them. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you. Although, we’re getting the hell out of here. Now.”
Turning toward the front door, I screamed and jumped back at the sight that greeted me.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Clarissa inquired, tilting her head to the side and examining me from head to toe with displeasure.
I returned the favor.
She looked unhinged. Her outfit was sloppy and dirty. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. I’d never once seen the woman when she wasn’t completely groomed from her toenails to the top of her dyed head. The Angel of Mercy had turned into a hot mess.
“I’d hardly call you a friend,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
Donna continued to growl. Karen took a cue from her buddy and growled along with her.
“I think it’s soooo cute that you have a Hell Hound,” she said, waving her hand and creating a bubble that surrounded the trashed room.
I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and bit down on it so I didn’t squeal with relief. If I could break through John Travolta’s bubble, there was a fine chance I could break through Clarissa’s. I needed to stay close to the door so I could make a run for it when the opportunity arose.
Please let the opportunity arise.
“Hell Hounds are quite tasty from what I hear,” Clarissa purred with a smile that made me want to headbutt her. “Just roast them with a little salt and pepper and you have a rare delicacy.”
“If you try to eat my dog, it will be the last thing you do,” I informed her coldly.
“Ohhhh, so brave,” she said with a brittle laugh that made the hair on my neck stand up. “Where have your manners gone, Daisy? That’s no way to talk to a guest in your home.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as referring to yourself as a guest,” I shot back, wondering if I could keep her talking for the half hour it would take for Gideon to come back. “More like an intruder.”
“Semantics,” she said with a shrug. “It just breaks my heart that you’re not happy to see me.”
“If you had a heart, then I’d feel bad. Since you don’t, I don’t,” I replied in a polite tone that belied my words.
That’s when I noticed Steve, Gram and Jimmy Joe Johnson. They floated on the outside of the bubble and looked terrified. I didn’t want them anywhere near this.
When Clarissa briefly turned away, I mouthed get Gideon. Steve nodded and disappeared. Get the ghosts out of the house, I mouthed to Gram and Jimmy Joe, and to my relief, they vanished, too.
Clarissa really did look rough. She’d always been a redheaded, overly made-up she-devil, but she had a desperation about her now that made her extremely dangerous. I used to think she was pretty in a hardened way, but those days were over. What she’d done to my mother and father and Steve destroyed any beauty she ever had.
“It’s not in your best interest to be ugly,” she warned. “I can make your life very difficult.”
“Are you serious?” I demanded with a humorless laugh. “You’ve already done a fine job of making my life difficult so far.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Wasn’t a compliment,” I shot back.
“Yes, I know,” she hissed. “However, I’m insulted by your rude reception. I don’t like it.”
“You tried to send my husband wrongly into the darkness after you caused his death,” I said evenly, judging how far I was from the door. My damn purse with my cell phone in it was on the floor and out of reach. My best bet was to break the bubble, grab my dogs and run. I was faster than hell on my feet and wildly happy about that right now.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Clarissa said, shaking her head dismissively. “He’ll be fine in the darkness.”
“Steve’s not going into the darkness.”
Her body stiffened and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Of course he is.”
“Nope,” I said. “It wasn’t a suicide. Funnily enough—which actually isn’t funny at all—he was run off the road by a deranged Angel.”
Her eyes widened in shock for a hot second. She made pouty lips and spoke to me like an adult using baby talk to speak to a dog. “How very, very, very sad. Delighted you got it figured out.”
Riling her up wasn’t the best plan, but if I threw her off enough, I might be able to figure out where she’d hidden my mother’s soul. However, that was a delicate subject, and I would tread lightly. Risking my mother was not in anyone’s best interest.
“Yep, I’m glad we got it figured out too,” I said, playing the idiot. I gave her a thumbs up.
“Is something wrong with your hand?” Clarissa inquired rudely.
“No,” I said. “Hand’s fine. As I was saying, once it was revealed Steve’s death wasn’t a suicide, it was decided he belongs in the light.”
“They went off the word of a dead man?” she asked as her eyes flashed with fury.
“Stop playing games, Clarissa,” I snapped. “It’s not a good look on you. You’re on the run because you’re in a shitload of trouble. I know you caused Steve’s death, and so does everyone else.”
The Angel of Mercy grew agitated, pointed her finger at the staircase and blew it sky high. The walls around the staircase were loadbearing. The house creaked but didn’t fall apart. I was tempted to use my newfound demolition skills to bring the entire house down around us so I’d have a head start in getting away from her, but I worried about my dogs. Donna would probably be fine, since she was a Hell Hound, but endangering Karen was not part of my plan.
“Everyone else does not know, you stupid child,” she snarled. “You have no proof. Just a dead man’s word delivered by a Death Counselor who was married to him. It’s a very clear case of conflict of interest. I win.”
Did she truly think she’d gotten away with it? She couldn’t. Why was she on the run if she thought she’d gotten away with it? She had to be after something else.
How much did she know? How much should I tell?
It wasn’t smart to let her know how the others got the proof. There was a chance she’d go back into hiding or permanently disappear if she was clued in that I knew who my father was. I’d never get my mother’s soul back.
“Anyhoo, I have things to do and places to be,” she said, sounding bored. “I do
believe you have something of mine. I’d like it back. Now.”
“I have nothing that belongs to you,” I said. “Nothing.”
“Ahh, but you do,” she contradicted me and shot a bolt of lightning from her fingertips that landed dangerously close to my head and took a chunk out of the wall. Karen yelped and Donna growled. “For years I thought the old lady had it, but I was wrong. Should have known you would have been able to find it.”
What the hell was she talking about?
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific,” I said, buying time. We had to have been talking for about fifteen minutes. If I could get her to monologue for a few more, I’d have backup. Bad guys loved to monologue—at least they did in the movies.
Another bolt of lightning came even closer to my head. Donna and Karen’s growls intensified as the smoke curled from the scorched wall behind me. The unmistakable aroma of singed hair—mine—made me cringe. “If you blow my head off, you won’t get what you want.”
“Good point,” she said, turning her deranged attention to the front of my house and setting it ablaze. “However, after I get what I want, you’ll probably perish in the fire. Sorry about that.”
It was instinctual. I didn’t realize I’d done it until after it was done.
Swiping my hand through the air, I put out the fire. It still smoldered, but the flames were gone.
Clarissa’s scream of fury was so shrill, I slapped my hands over my ears.
“How?” she demanded. “Explain!”
“No.”
She eyed me with hatred and paced the room like a madwoman. The glass crunched beneath her stiletto-clad feet as she muttered obscenities.
On a dime, she shifted. Her fury was replaced by a sweetness so repulsive, I almost laughed.
I didn’t. I was smarter than that.
“Okay, Daisy,” she said, seating herself on the edge of the broken coffee table. “I’m looking for a troublesome old soul. A woman. She’s wanted in Heaven, and I can’t seem to locate her. I think you have her.”
“A ghost?” I questioned as I braced myself against the wall due to the fact that my knees had turned to jelly. If this was going where I thought it was going, then this was a really bad time to pass out.
A Most Excellent Midlife Crisis : A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel : Good To The Last Death Book Three Page 18