Spirit [New Crescent 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (10 page)

* * * *

The pouring rain forced Chase indoors. He didn’t mind too much. It gave him an opportunity to go over the proofs he’d been ignoring. Duty called. The task was almost distracting enough to keep him from obsessing over the challenge he’d laid at Reggie’s feet the night before. A small part of him regretted his words, fearing that he’d pushed her too far, too soon. But a bigger part of him acknowledged that one of them had to do something. Spending so much time close to her was grinding him into sawdust. He had to press his advantage.

She wanted him. Sweet Mother of God, for that, he was grateful. He was finally worthy and in a position to offer her what she deserved. He was no longer skating on the thin ice of shame and potential bankruptcy. Yes, his stepfather had tarnished his family’s reputation, his mother’s memory, and his own sense of self-worth, but that was the past. He couldn’t step back in time and kick the abusive bastard out of his mother’s life. She’d made a choice when she’d hidden the abuse from her son. Chase had berated himself endlessly for not seeing what was happening, for being so self-absorbed. In typical adolescent male fashion, he’d been oblivious to the classic signs of abuse.

On her death bed, Annie McCann Adams had told her son that she’d made her own choices and hadn’t regretted them. Jade was worth it all. The emotional abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her second husband hadn’t mattered. His stepsister was worth it. Of course, she’d been right. Jade belonged in his life. She belonged in New Crescent. He’d never given up hope that she’d find her way back home.

When Jade had called him that morning in the hospital, she’d been almost incoherent. He’d been waiting for Reggie to come so they could talk about what they’d been through the day before, how they’d saved each other’s lives. But Jade’s call for help put all of that on the back burner. Gone was his intention to stay put until Reggie came back so they could talk over what they’d been through together. Fate had stepped in and made that impossible. Robert Adams, Chase’s foul stepfather had died, and the fallout wasn’t pretty. Jade needed him. For once in her life, she’d reached out to him. He couldn’t let her down. So many years ago, he’d ignored his mother when she’d needed him. That was the worst way to learn a life lesson, but he’d learned it. Disappointing Jade was something he’d vowed never to do.

Unaware of Jade’s situation and her cry for help, Reggie had found an empty bed when she’d returned to the hospital to see him. Misunderstanding his absence, she’d reacted impulsively, called her girlfriend who lived in Italy and boarded a flight to Europe without a word. Until Jade was able to clear up the circumstances surrounding her father’s death, Chase had to respect her privacy and stay quiet. He couldn’t tell Reggie his reasons for leaving so precipitously.

Now he had another chance with her, and he wasn’t about to screw it up. The two of them would just have to triumph over this latest madness at Bennett House. His instinct told him they’d have to or be crushed. She was understandably skittish around him, but if he stayed the course, he prayed she’d trust him enough to let her guard down. After a long absence, his self-confidence had slowly returned. He was determined to succeed in shaping his own and Reggie’s destiny, but he knew, given her nature, she’d fight him every step of the way.

* * * *

The rain didn’t stall work on the interior of Bennett House. The pickings weren’t nearly as rich though, without the men working outside. He’d have to be satisfied with less. That fact didn’t please him, but he’d learned to be patient. A great power was within his grasp. He could smell it, taste it. He’d wait. The anticipation would make his triumph that much sweeter. The other was still foolish and stubborn. He would take it all in the end. For now, knowledge was power.

Before heading back to Bennett House, Reggie stopped by her parents’ home and picked up Prudence. She’d spent too much time away from the little dog. Her father had been right. The work taking place at Bennett House made it a less than ideal place for a dog, but Reggie didn’t want to spend another night without Pru. In New Crescent, all animals were considered Mother Nature’s gift. In the Wicca tradition, that belief had been passed down generation to generation by the Old Families. Many pets could trace their lineage back to the three Goode sisters and their animals. Pru, bless her heart, couldn’t claim such auspicious origins, but that didn’t make Reggie love her any less.

Driving back to Bennett House, Reggie hadn’t fully realized how much she’d missed the dog. Just having her furry little body around made Reggie feel better. The sight of her furry little face helped to brighten up a day that was still rainy and melancholy.

The house stood moody and majestic against the infinite shades of gray in the sky. It truly was the perfect setting for a gothic novel. The slight feeling of expectation Reggie felt as she walked in the front door supported the impression.

She could hear the kind of noise and chatter she’d grown accustomed to while working on the house and headed in the direction of Duncan’s voice. Pru followed close behind. The contractor was talking to two of his most reliable men. It sounded like they’d had a disagreement and Duncan was helping them to smooth it out. Standing in the doorway, Reggie leaned against the unstained trim and waited for him to finish. He caught sight of her in his peripheral vision, nodded, and held up a finger, indicating he’d be right with her.

With the disagreement ironed out, Duncan turned to Reggie. He recognized Pru and bent to pat her. Reggie had questions for him regarding the tile work in the kitchen. Their discussion became detailed. Growing impatient with inactivity, Pru began to explore. Reggie called her to heel. When her conversation with Duncan wound down, Reggie made her way upstairs using the back staircase. Her ever present sidekick, Pru stayed just a step behind.

Once in the master bedroom, she changed into old jeans and a wrinkled SPCA T-shirt. Pru sniffed around familiarizing herself with such enthusiasm that Reggie could hear her snorting like a pig hunting truffles. She smiled and said, “Come on, you blood hound, we’re going to take a look at the kitchen.”

This time, she used the grand staircase. The progress they’d made with the renovations brought a smile to her face. The kitchen was a dream. Reggie wasn’t much of a cook, but she knew how best to outfit a kitchen and she’d never been afraid to ask the experts. Disappointed with the quality of tile delivered for the floor, she decided to have it sent back. She made a note to call the supplier. She glanced at her watch and decided to call tomorrow. She looked around for Pru, but the little dog was gone. She’d followed Reggie down the stairs. Doggie nails sliding across the slippery new floors weren’t a sound Reggie could ignore. But now Pru was nowhere to be found. Reggie began to feel panic in the pit of her stomach.

Calling out to Pru, Reggie moved from room to room. The workmen looked up at Reggie in surprise. No one had seen the little dog. She’d vanished. Reggie’s stomach churned, and she was afraid to imagine what could have happened to the little dog. Bennett House under construction wasn’t the best place for Pru . Given recent events, Reggie realized she’d been irresponsible and selfish by putting her in the middle of everything. With determination, she walked to the hallway that led to the library. If that evil thing had a hold of her baby, she vowed to destroy it or die trying.

She’d been prepared for the cold but had forgotten the oppressive odor. She gagged as she breathed the foul air, but she pressed on desperately. Both doors to the library stood ajar. That was new. With a dead weight crushing her chest, she walked into hell.

Pru lay on the floor, her legs twitching. Foam oozed from her mouth. Reggie ran to her and dropped to the floor. Everything but the little dog’s welfare drained from her mind. The doors slammed behind her with a tremendous bang. The sound made her jump but failed to distract her from her goal. Poor Pru was convulsing ever more violently. Reggie had to get her out. After Reggie gathered Pru in her arms, the little dog went limp. She wanted to scream and shake the dog when she remained unresponsive, but controlled the impulse. Panic would serve no purpose other than to give the advantage to her invisible enemy. A strange pounding reverberated in Reggie’s eardrums like corporeal evil demanding entrance.

Shivering with cold and shock, Reggie struggled to stand. It was no use. Pru was dead. It was hopeless. Overcome with savage despair, Reggie longed to sink to the damp and clammy floor and keen with grief. The thing with her in the room was powerful beyond their paltry imaginings. How pathetic she’d been to think she could survive it, let alone conquer it. Depression sucked at her will to fight. With Pru still held tightly in her arms, she started to sink back down to the floor in defeat.

No!
A voice from somewhere deep inside her commanded and forced her to resist the temptation to give way. This was all a cruel, but clever illusion. There was always hope. That certainty was branded into Reggie’s character. She called upon an unknown reserve of energy locked within and struggled to break free from the depressive spiral. She willed life into Pru and pushed back at the entity with focused strength of will. Stumbling twice, she dragged her feet to the double doors. Prepared for more resistance, Reggie was surprised when they opened easily. As she carried poor Pru out, the doors slammed shut behind them, a last show of power. Reggie ignored it.

Once again, she could hear the natural sounds of human voices in the house and the otherworldly banging in her eardrums faded away. Reggie was aware only of Pru and her condition. The little dog stirred and started to come out of whatever spell had claimed her. Reggie sobbed with relief as she sat beside her on the floor outside the library hallway.

From somewhere in the house, there was a great crash, loud voices, and running footsteps. Weak, Reggie used the wall to help find her feet. There was silence. Another accident.
My God, when would it stop?
Pru regained consciousness but Reggie couldn’t leave her and she called out. “What’s going on?”

An apologetic voice said, “It’s okay. One of the ladders tipped over. It’s a mess, but no one was hurt.”

Reggie breathed a sigh of relief.

Her encounter in the library had sapped her strength, but she refused to succumb to exhaustion. Pru had recovered at last. Now Reggie’s rage drove her on. With determination, she walked through the garden, ignoring the rain.

“Constance, show yourself now!” A faint rumble of thunder punctuated her demand. Nature’s synchronicity gave her a jolt of confidence. Staring at the iron gate, she willed Constance to comply.

She felt an almost imperceptible change in the air and knew she could be heard.

“I know you’re there, Constance. No more games. Someone very dear to me almost died today. You have to help me!”

“You weakened it,” Constance whispered, but still she refused to appear. “Your strength during your little rescue mission today was a surprise, but you’re going to need more than that to vanquish what’s in that room.”

“Tell me what I have to do.”

“You’re not ready yet. First, I suggest you catch the petty thief who steals from this place every night. You don’t want lawmen here. They are acquainted with violence and would only feed that thing in there. You and Chase have to do this alone.” And the spirit was gone, the air changed.

Soaked to the skin, Reggie pulled together a string of cuss words as long as her right leg. She was still swearing when she walked back into the house and straight into Chase’s arms. While in conversation with Constance, she’d had no idea he’d arrived.

He smiled as he steadied her. “Whoa there, Crash, your vocabulary is impressive.”

His use of her nickname drained some of her anger, and she sighed. “I’m highly motivated.”

Chase nodded. “You always were an overachiever.”

She started to shiver, and he said, “Go upstairs and run a hot bath. We’ll have dinner when you’re warm again. I’ll start a fire.”

“What…”

He silenced her by putting a finger to her lips. “Get out of those wet clothes or I’ll do it myself.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he said, “And we both know how that’ll end.” With the same finger he’d pressed against her lips, he pointed up the stairs. “Go.”

Reggie took her time, not only because the warmth was heaven sent but also because she was terrified of what this night might bring. After getting so little sleep the night before and her experience with Pru, she knew she’d have no defenses. “I’m Belgium,” she muttered, “and look what happened to it in the First and Second World Wars.” Glancing down at Pru curled up on the fluffy bath mat, she said, “Don’t look at me that way. I’m operating without sleep or food. It’s the best I could do.” The ridiculousness of her conversation made her laugh. She’d coasted right past exhausted to punch-drunk.

Her punchy condition explained Reggie’s choice of apparel as she dressed in a terry cloth robe, enormous flannel pajamas, and fluffy slippers. The not-so-subtle message wouldn’t be lost on Chase. Tonight, she was no sex kitten. She pulled the elastic waistband of her voluminous pajama bottoms and let it snap back.

Satisfied, she smiled. “Ah, clothes to eat in. I’m starving.”

Her slippers made navigating the stairs very awkward and she giggled. Safely on the main floor, she followed her nose. He’d lit a fire in the living room and had set food on trays in front of it. She looked around for him, but the room was empty. Pru made for the food but stopped when Reggie gave her a warning look. Chase came into the room, his arms filled with pillows. He dropped them on the floor in front of the fire.