Dark Spirits (29 page)

“I found a washroom,” Nathan called.

I followed his voice to another room across the foyer, fashioned with wooden shelves along the walls. They were bare, but I understood it to be a library, and the house Victorian. In the far corner was a tiny bathroom.

“Here you go.” Nathan handed me a damp washcloth at the same time I gave him back his sweatshirt. He stepped aside so I could see myself in the oval mirror above the ceramic pedestal sink. “Where did you find your clothes?”

“They were lying on the couch in the other room,” I said offhandedly while I looked at myself in horror. A dark brown crusty patch the size of a quarter was in the center of my forehead, like a bulls-eye, and there were three splayed finger lines in the same color that ran down my face. My skin looked paler than normal, making the bloody mess on my face more predominate, almost 3-D. My dark-green eyes peeked out between the lines like a helpless apparition behind a barred window.

Nathan left the room to give me some space while I cleaned up. After I finished, I found him waiting for me in the foyer. Cassondra hadn’t moved and still had that glazed look. I stepped over her and took Nathan’s extended hand, interlacing our fingers. We drove Roeick’s black Bronco to Candy’s Tavern to retrieve Nathan’s truck. On the way there, Nathan told me about the bum he came across at Cannon Beach, which surprised me because I wasn’t aware a man had been there when I was. But when Nathan mentioned Bael knowing about Solomon’s power inside me, my stomach tensed. With everything that had happened since my meeting with Bael, I hadn’t thought about it until now. I hugged myself when a sudden chill entered my bones.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Nathan said, parking the Bronco beside his truck, “but the safest place for you to be until we can figure out where the incantations are is at your house.”

“Are you suggesting I stay home then?” I hated the idea, but I knew he was right, and I wasn’t going to argue with him. I certainly didn’t know what I was doing.

He smiled at me ruefully. “Unfortunately, yes I am. Zeruel is there, and Bael won’t go near him.”

I sighed and nodded.

When we headed home in Nathan’s truck, I noticed a large picture frame covered in brown, heavy paper, leaning against the backseat.

“What’s this?” I pointed to it when he looked at me.

He grinned. “Your surprise.”

I raised an eyebrow and reached for it, but he grabbed my wrist before I could touch it.

“Wait until we get home.”

I attempted to give him my most heartbreaking pouty look. My ploy didn’t work. He just laughed and shook his head.

“Fine,” I said, pretending to be mad, trying not to smile because really I was thrilled Nathan and I were back to where we were before the whole mess last night. And then I thought about what Zeruel had told me. “Oh, Zeruel told me they don’t know where Solomon’s spirit is.”

Nathan looked at me, his voice raised in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. They think he used a cloaking spell so nobody could find it when he died. They’re guessing so he could protect his incantations.” I paused and glanced out the window. The early morning sun shone through the tree tops along the shoulder of the road, making the green, red, and yellow leaves glow brilliantly against the shady part of the trees. “He also told me they don’t know where the incantations are, but of course they’re relying on me to find them.” When Nathan glanced at me, I rolled my eyes.

“Why didn’t Solomon destroy the incantations and be done with it?”

“I asked Zeruel the same thing, and he told me Solomon might have done that, but they don’t know.” My stomach growled, and Nathan’s gaze shifted to it. The corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile.

“I think we should go through a drive-through and get us something to eat. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a”–I let out a big yawn– “great idea. I’m in some serious need of coffee.”

Once we got home, Nathan carried the picture frame into the house and leaned it against the recliner. I set our food and drinks on the coffee table and carefully took my parka off. I hung it in the coat closet next to the front door, then looked at the picture frame, wondering what it could be. I glanced at Nathan.

He gestured toward it. “Go ahead. You can open it now.”

I tore the brown paper off at the corner of the frame, and when I saw what was underneath, I gasped. “Omigod, Nathan,” was all I could say as I ripped the rest of the paper off. It was the picture I fell in love with when we were at the Sunday Market–Peter Pan and Wendy, flying hand and hand to Neverland in the star-filled night over the bright lights of London. I held my cheeks in my hands and stared at it. Nathan stepped beside me and draped his arm around my shoulders. “Thank you so much for this.” I looked up at him. “But how did you know?”

“When you were looking at it, I saw the adoration in your eyes and had to get it for you.”

I turned to him. “This is by far, one of the most wonderful gifts I’d ever received, besides the . . .” My mouth fell open, and my heart sank. Nathan’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh no! My Claddagh ring. I’m so sor--”

Shoving his hand in his pocket, he pulled out the silver ring. “I spotted it on the ground when you were getting in the truck and grabbed it.”

“Thank God,” I said, sighing with relief, sticking my hand out so he could place it on my finger. He slid it on, then pulled me into his arms, being mindful of my back. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, and right when our lips touched, a shadow moved across the front picture window, followed by several anxious knocks at the door.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Nathan

Paige broke our kiss. Bouncing off her toes, she dropped to her normal height, causing my embrace to loosen. She jerked her head to the front door when the incessant knocking began. A whisper of surprise breathed out of her. I placed a hand on her shoulder, and it sagged beneath my touch.

She looked spent.

She needed nourishment and rest and some time to recuperate from her trying ordeal. Whoever was on the other side of the door wasn’t going to deny her that. I’d make sure if it.

 I focused my keen sense of hearing on the door, my muscles tightening. The knob turned a quarter of an inch. I rushed at it and threw it open. I sidestepped when Brayden tumbled in, his hands outstretched, hitting the floor before his face did. Paige stepped forward, knee bent, hand swooping down to help him, then changed her mind. She straightened her back and remained rooted in her spot.

Brayden jumped to his feet and glared. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“This isn’t a good time, Brayden,” I said.

He waved his hand in the air dismissively, disregarding me in a rude manner, which instantly pissed me off. “Yeah. Yeah. Whatever.” He turned to Paige, and I stepped between them, into Brayden’s space.

“I understand you’re worried about her, but like I just told you–now is not a good time.”

For Paige’s benefit, I tried to keep my temper in check, but with the shitty look Brayden aimed at me, I found it difficult.

“It’s okay, Nathan. I don’t mind talking to Brayden for a few minutes.”

Of course you don’t.

It was a wicked thought, I realized, and I despised having the one feeling Brayden brought out in me . . . jealousy. It was foreign to me. However, I’d seen the way Paige looked at him, and I didn’t like it. I in no way resented her for it because I understood why, and I knew she wasn’t in love with him. I also knew, though, if the circumstances were right, she could be, and besides her not being okay or happy, the possibility of it haunted me.

“So what the hell happened?” Brayden demanded as I took Paige’s hand and led her to the couch. Brayden stood in front of us with his arms across his chest. Bags were forming under his eyes from lack of sleep, but he must have gotten his second wind because I could feel his tightly wound energy. “Max called me, madder than shit and upset because he said a guy kidnapped you. He told me he tried to stop him, but the guy knocked him out.”

I remembered Max from Paige’s class. I liked him, but what was Paige doing hanging out with him at a time like this? I handed her a breakfast burrito, my eyebrows pulling together.

Paige unwrapped her meal and shrugged. “I was hungry and knew the restaurant on the pier would be open, so I went there.” She took a huge bite and hovered her hand in front of her mouth while she chewed.

“What does the restaurant have to do with Max?” I asked. “Did he happen to be there?”

“His dad now owns it,” Brayden chimed in. “Max works there.”

Paige flashed us a tired smiled. “Yeah. Max wants to be a chef, and his dad is going to give him the business.”

Brayden’s eyes widened, momentarily forgetting why he was here. “No shit?”

Still smiling, Paige took another bite and nodded. But when she leaned back, she yelped and jerked forward. Pieces of scrambled eggs sprayed out of her mouth onto her shirt and lap.

“Are you okay?” I handed her a napkin. God, I hated seeing her in pain. I thought about Roeick and the suffering he was going through. I bet those open wounds were in the first stages of putrefying. Eventually, gangrene would set in, just like his waste would fill his pants, settling against his skin and groin. The uric acid and stench would soften his skin and possibly rot it away. Aosoth wasn’t any better off, since I’d tied her legs and thighs together. Morbidly enough, those thoughts gave me comfort for the agony they’d caused Paige.

“What’s wrong with your back?” Brayden asked, scrutinizing her.

Paige brushed the bits of egg into the cup of her hand and placed them in the napkin. Folding the paper over, she set it on the coffee table with her half-eaten burrito. Without saying a word, she rose, turned her back on Brayden, and lifted her shirt. Her long ponytail hung over her left shoulder like a dark-red scarf. I had the sudden urge to run my fingers through it and feel its soft, glossy texture. But I kept my hands in my lap instead and watched horror, then anger surface on Brayden’s face.

“Who did this to you?” He made a move to touch her back, but I stepped between them, knocking his wrist back. I understood his concern, but common sense should have advised him not to touch her back. For the love of God, why couldn’t he
think
before he did or said something?

Paige sat on the couch and released a tired sigh. Brayden rubbed his wrist, giving me a murderous look.

I wanted to laugh.

Did he really think he could intimidate me? The only ammunition he had against me was using his bond with Paige to get her to fall in love with him, and if he’d ever wanted to take that path, he’d have a huge fight on his hands. Not because Paige’s choice didn’t matter. It certainly did, and I’d step aside. But because he’d be manipulating her into being with him, something I would not tolerate.

“I think you should go.” I pointed at the door and raised my eyebrows when he didn’t budge. I hope he realized I didn’t have a problem with forcefully throwing his ass out. In fact, I think I’d rather enjoy it.

Brayden’s face turned crimson, and I could see the defiance rising in his green eyes. “Fuck you! This is Paige’s house, and she’s the only one who can tell me to leave. Not you!”

“You’re right,” I agreed, trying not to laugh in his face because he sounded like a child arguing with his sibling over something trivial. I should just do it, but then it would piss him off more, and we’d end up getting physical. Paige didn’t need more stress in her life, so I decided against it, even though the devious side of me wanted to. “But you need to back off and exercise some self control. Touching Paige’s wounds wasn’t wise.” I sat beside her when Brayden took a deep breath and nodded, the redness leaving his face.

He planted himself in the loveseat and looked at her, his expression filled with concern and apology. “I’m sorry. I just never saw ugly welts like yours before. I swear I was going to be careful.”

Paige kicked her shoes off, then laid her head in my lap. I pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and covered her. “Don’t worry about it,” she said in the middle of a yawn.

“What happened?” Brayden asked, leaning forward on his knees, looking intently at her.

In a tired voice, Paige went into the details of the previous night. However, she surprised me when she didn’t mention Cassondra or what I’d done to her. I think I knew why–to protect me from any retaliation one might exercise in favor of Cassondra and so nobody would find her, along with Roeick and Aosoth. It was a good call on her part, especially when Brayden wanted to know where Roeick and Aosoth were, and she wouldn’t tell him. I couldn’t help but gloat inwardly at her shutting Brayden out. I glanced at him, and his mouth was in a tight thin line, his eyes shooting daggers at me.

“I know you’re pissed,” Paige said to Brayden in a groggy voice. “But honestly, you’re friends with Anwar and Cassondra, and I can’t risk them discovering any further information about us.”

“But Paige,” Brayden began to argue, “You’re the only one I’m loy--”

“I know,” she said. “And that means a lot to me, but I can’t take the chance of you accidentally slipping up or them possibly deciding to torture information out of you.”

He snorted with indignation. “It would never happen.”

“I have to agree with Paige,” I said.

Brayden sneered at me. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” His tone dripped with contempt. “But you’re both wrong. I’d never betray Paige.”

“Not intentionally,” Paige said, yawning, pulling the afghan over her shoulders and rearranging her head on my thigh. I placed my arm around her shoulders, keeping the afghan in place. “But I can’t take that chance, Brayden.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Brayden’s voice broke in disappointment, and I almost felt sorry for the guy.

Almost.

“I trust you with my life.” I could hear the guilt and sadness in Paige’s voice for hurting Brayden’s feelings, and it bothered me. Not because of the way she felt toward Brayden, but because she was hurt by it. I rubbed the side of her face in an attempt to soothe her. “You’re misguided, though,” she went on, sounding sluggish. “Anwar and Cassondra are not to be trusted, and as long as you stay friends with them, I can’t open up to you.” Paige’s breathing was slowing. I bent to look at her, and her eyes were closed.

Brayden stared at her, lost in thought. He had a lot to consider. I understood how Anwar’s charm and wit could bedazzle him, and Cassondra was a master at flaunting her feminine assets to beguile him into doing what she most desired. Brayden was a young, hormonal man, so it would stand to reason he’d be blinded by her vindictive nature. But I felt like I had to say something to him about her because although I didn’t give a shit about him, Paige did.

“What happened to Paige last night was Cassondra’s fault, and if you were smart you’d stop talking to her.”

Brayden blinked, and his eyes fell on mine. “It wasn’t Cassondra’s fault what Roeick did to Paige.” He paused, focusing his gaze past me. “I see your point, though.” He rose and headed to the door, his shoulders straight with determination. He hesitated before touching the knob, not affording me a look. “I know Paige is in love with you now, but she and I are destined to be together. She may not realize it, or maybe she doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but one day she will, and when she does, she’ll be in my arms instead of yours. In the meantime, I’m going to do what I can to get her to realize it. But right now, I’m going to go find Cassondra and deal with her myself.”

He left, not realizing he now had a fight on his hands.