Reap & Reveal (The Reaper Series Book 3) (16 page)

She nodded. Nate turned to leave, then remembered his scabbard under the bed. Keeping his eyes on Maeve, he reached underneath and pulled it free. He strapped it on before slipping his jacket over it.

“Planning on being attacked on the way upstairs?” she asked, her eyes filled with mischief.

His lips thinned, unsure how to respond. He opened his mouth and then shut it again. He shook his head in frustration.

He walked back up the stairs, shutting the door behind him and eyeing the bolt at the top of it. He could lock her in. Rosemary had insisted that Garrett add the bolt because she was worried about kids, visiting the shop with their parents, falling down the stairs. It seemed like a particularly good idea at the moment, but he’d already abused Maeve’s trust with his binding spell.

No need to add fuel to the fire.

***

Maeve let out a sigh of relief.

God, the tension was going to kill her before Rosemary’s voodoo at this rate. That man felt like a ticking time bomb. She was grateful to have a few minutes alone to get herself together. Amazed, she realized she felt good. Really good.

Maybe seventy-five percent good.

Hell, the fact she hadn’t snuffed Nate’s mom was bonus number two.

Whatever mojo Rosemary had used on her had left her feeling lighter and stronger. Her pre-possession memories seemed to have realigned to an acceptable level. Deacon, Ruth and the reaper compound…
Nate
. She remembered all of it. It was the post-possession memories that were still a black hole. Nothing that she could decipher from what was left of those mangled memories seemed even remotely usable in its current configuration.

Three missing months.

Arguably, the three most important months if the gnawing in her gut was any indication.

She was still plenty hot about the binding spell, but she had to admit that Nate seemed to be on a mission to help her. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t actually hurt him. Even she knew her efforts so far had been half-hearted.

The damned truth was that he was beginning to feel like family.

God help him.

She studied the drawings again, leaning in for a better look at the closest one. The image, which she’d missed earlier, nearly took her to her knees.

It couldn’t be.

Combing through the other pages, she searched for a repeat of the figure, but she only saw it once.

It was a drawing of a woman surrounded by fire, her head sitting askew at her feet. The black and white image was drawn in charcoal pencil, but the woman looked disturbingly like her.

***

Nate followed his nose to the kitchen. The intensity of Rosemary and Garrett’s conversation at the table in the kitchen stopped him in his tracks just out of sight of his parents.

“You need to tell him,” Garrett implored

“No. He’s not ready.”

“You’re the one who’s not ready, Rosemary. We should have told him years ago. Before he moved out.”

“I was hoping…”

“You were hoping it wouldn’t manifest. Clearly, it has…and more. And the girl…”

“Her name is Maeve, Garrett.”

“She’s down there now. You don’t think
she’ll
figure it out? Who do you want him to hear it from? His mother or a stranger?”

“Blessed be, I wish he could hear it from his mother.”

“You know it has to be done before he leaves. I’ll keep the Coven Board at bay, but for the gods’ sakes and his, don’t wait any longer. You made a promise. Now, pass the bacon, please.”

Nate backed down the hallway and found his backpack in the main living area. After picking it up, he hesitated. Of course, he wanted to know exactly what they were talking about, but a part of him knew that as soon as the answers he wanted were revealed, there would be no going back. For the first time in months he’d managed to sleep a full eight hours. He felt safe here at home and newly confident in his ability to keep Maeve from harm. Even if it was only for one more day or a few more hours, he was going to accept that comfort. Then he’d demand to know what they were keeping from him before he dove back into the battle.

Tonight he’d take Maeve to the Yule festival, and then he’d get his answers from her, as well. One thing was for certain. When he left this compound, nothing would be the same.

Chapter Twenty

Nate led Maeve down Beltane Street, away from the Yule festivities and toward the edge of the community. Preparations were still under way and the main event wouldn’t begin until well after dark. He hoped he had enough daylight left to show Maeve around before the festival kicked into full gear. Darkness would be a blessing. The fewer people who noticed Maeve and asked questions, the better, and since most of them had already gathered at the hub of the compound for the pre-ritual feast, the streets were deserted.

The icy wind cut through his too light jacket. At least walking warmed him enough to stave off most of the physical discomfort, and the bonfire tonight would chase even that away.

Maeve had seemed much better today. Downright agreeable even. She’d spent the majority of the day sleeping on and off in front of the fire at his parents’ house. She hadn’t talked much, answering direct questions and little else. Still, he could sense a change in her. She was coming back together. Whatever Rosemary had done to her had worked—at least partially.

“Aren’t we heading the wrong way for the party?”

“I wanted to show you around first.”

“A tour? And meeting your parents? I had no idea you were so…old-fashioned.”

Nate shook his head. Of course, her sarcasm would be the first thing to fully return. “Do you want to go or not?”

“Don’t get your boxers in a wad. I’m still walking, aren’t I?”

Stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, he led her past a variety of now closed shops: the Witch Way Café, his mother’s aptly named Hands of Healing Center, the Ritual Majik supply store, Dell’s Grocery & Convenience Center, a small library and an auto repair shop. Beltane was the commercial spoke of their community wheel.

“How many people live here?”

“Around four hundred full-time. During festivals like tonight, it swells to more than a thousand.”

“Seems pretty self-sufficient.”

“It is. There’s a school along Lammas Street and even a worship pavilion at the end of Ostara Street.”

“A church?”

“A place to be close to nature in a worshipful way. No one here would call it a church. Everyone who lives here practices Wiccan in some form or another. Most full-time residents are here so that they can be immersed in the practice and lifestyle. They enjoy being surrounded by like-minded people.”

“And you? Why did you leave?”

Nate held back a secret smile, pleased that Maeve seemed interested in his history and home.

“I was adopted. Garrett and Rosemary brought me into the coven when I was five. Even here I was different. When I found an opportunity to leave, I did. It’s been a while since I came back.”

“Bad memories?”

“No. Not really. The coven was great to me for the most part. I just wanted…”

“To find your own place in the world.”

Nate stopped walking and turned to her. The wind picked up the tips of her hair and whipped it across her face. He wanted to brush it aside, but didn’t.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Maeve walked ahead of him toward the permanent Beltane altar at the end of the street.

“Speaking of bad memories. How are yours? How do you feel?”

“Witch, you are full of surprises. Now you want to talk about feelings? Are you sure you’re not gay?”

“Hardly.”

A wary smile etched its way across her face and she looked away first.

“I think my deck has reshuffled. Everything before Camael’s reaper reign seems solid in my mind now.”

“And after?”

She picked up a phallic shaped candle and raised her eyebrows at him in question.

“What can I say? Beltane is a fertility festival. Some witches have a sense of humor.”

Maeve laughed and carefully placed the candle back on the wooden altar. “You have some strange parties, witch.”

“Wait until you see the rest of the altars. Our community is laid out like the Wheel of the Year. At the end of each spoke, or in this case street, on the rim is a permanent altar in honor of each Sabbat of Wicca. This is of course Beltane.”

“So how many more are there?

“Seven. Litha, Lammas, Mabon, Samhain, Yule, Imbolc, Ostara. We’d better hurry. It’s a little over a mile around the outside of the compound. It will take a good half hour to see them all.”

He waited for her to catch up. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

Nate took off his jacket, even though he was freezing his ass off, and spread it over her shoulders. He was glad he’d left his scabbard and sword at home. Having visible weapons at the festival would not have gone over well with the Coven Board. The blades hidden under his jeans and strapped along his calves would have to suffice, although the thought of demon trouble in this well-fortified magical fortress was unconscionable.

She slid her arms into the jacket and zipped it up. “This doesn’t mean we’re going steady or anything. Right, Richie?”

“Richie?”

“You know,
Happy Days
? Don’t you get cable out here?”

“How do you have time for television?”

“You never heard of a DVR? Besides, you make time for the Retro Television Network. Gotta have something to look forward to.”

“Isn’t that a little too…wholesome for you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m practically drowning in wholesome.” She plunged her hands into the jacket pockets and hunched her shoulders against the cold.

“Uh huh.”

“I think you have the wrong idea about me.”

“I hope not.”

“Hoping for some corruption were you? I have a code, too, Mr. Squeaky Clean.”

“What? I think you have the wrong impression of
me
. “

“Touche.”

They walked to Litha Street without talking. This was not going as he’d planned. Talking to Maeve was harder than talking to Kylen. At least she was better looking. A
lot
better looking.

Good God, he felt thirteen around her.

Maeve picked up a tiger’s eye gemstone from the Litha altar. “Pretty.”

“An offering to the gods and goddesses for a bountiful summer harvest. And it represents how thankful we are for our many blessings.”

“Do you feel blessed, Nate?” Studying the gem that was nestled in her palm, she ran her thumb back and forth over it.

“I’m thankful that you seem to be on the road to recovery.”

“Then maybe I owe
you
an offering since you’re the one who saved me.”

Nate held his breath. He’d never known what to expect from Maeve before the possession, and now she was a complete wildcard. She had reset to the Maeve he’d known, though briefly, before the possession. He was hesitant to scare this new Maeve away…and equally desperate to hold on to her.

She closed the distance between them and looked up. Hesitant, he waited to see what she would do next. Without making him wait, she slid her hands behind his neck and pulled his face down to hers. When she pressed her lips to his, his arms wrapped around her in response, drawing her against his body.

A pulse of energy coursed through him like a spark of static electricity, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. Nate threaded his hands through Maeve’s hair and deepened the kiss, desperate to secure the connection he could no longer deny.

Maeve moaned against his mouth, her cold hands sliding under his shirt and up his back, her nails digging into him as she clutched him to her body. Their energies combined, surging through them, binding them beyond Reiki or magic. With a gasp, Maeve pulled away, her eyes wide, round and glowing with turquoise light.

“What are you doing to me?” she whispered, backing away from him. “I saw…”

“What? Did you remember something?”

“Something terrible is going to happen, Nate.”

“What? When?”

“I don’t know. I just see pieces. Memories—or maybe thoughts—from Camael. I don’t know which. Maybe it’s already happened. But when we kissed, the pieces began to realign in my head. Now they’re gone again.”

Nate stared at her, confident he was about to be slapped for his next action. He pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers, letting her body draw energy from him. When she leaned back into him, it was his turn to falter.

Shared images filled his mind, a tumble of Maeve’s and his own. It was impossible to determine which belonged to whom. Many of them were familiar, but others were not.

The flutter he’d sensed inside him earlier returned, drawn out by Maeve’s life force, by her very soul, and demanded the connection be made. Energy built between them as they fed on each other’s light, the exchange fueling their mental slideshow.

Maeve pulled away first. Nate held her shoulders, steadying her face as she recovered.

“That was some kiss.” She shrugged away from his hands and stared out toward the woods, now completely dark under the canopy. “Who is the girl? Consumed by fire? You know, the one in the drawing in your room.”