The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch) (29 page)

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Authors: Genevieve Jack

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BOOK: The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch)
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“No, I’d rather know the truth. Speaking of, there are things I need to tell you about myself. Things you should know about my past if we are going to try to make this work.”

“You forget, I was part of your past.”

“Not my past life. I mean my romantic past.”

Rick frowned. “You are only twenty-two, yes?”

“Yes.”

“How much history could there be?” He laughed, nervously.

I grimaced. “You represent my foray into the double digits.”

His brow wrinkled, and he scooted back as if to get a better look at me. “Are you saying, Grateful, that you have had intercourse with over ten men in your short life?”

“Well, yes. Normally, I wouldn’t admit to it but because you have waited for me, I thought you should know.”

“And you did this why?”

“Don’t think that I just slept with these people. I’m not a slut or anything. Every single one of them was a meaningful relationship.”

Rick jumped a little as if I’d shocked him, and I realized that he might not consider a string of serious relationships any better than anonymous sex.

“I lived with the last one—er Gary—and I’d dated the others for over a month each. I just can’t seem to stick with someone for more than a year. Technically, I’ve never made it to a year, but you know what I mean.”

“Marry me, Grateful. Put the past behind you.”

“Don’t you see what I’m saying? I’m terrible at this stuff. My relationships never last. I can’t marry you because I don’t want to be divorced in a year. Let’s face it. We hardly know each other. If this is going to work, we need a firm foundation, something to build a life on. Let’s take it slow and get to know each other.”

Rick bounded out of bed and paced the floors, running his hands through his hair. “I know you, Grateful. Sometimes, I think, better than you know yourself. You are stalling, waiting for certainty in a life that offers no guarantees. You say to take it slow yet here we are, and what we have just done is anything but taking it slow. What are you afraid of?”

I scrambled for an answer, anything to put him off. The feelings I had for him were too overwhelming. They scared me. I’d already risked too much. “Why don’t we just live together?” I suggested, although I knew my father would be upset at me jumping into the arrangement so soon after Gary. “Wait a minute. If we were married in a past life, why do we have two separate houses? Why didn’t we live together, then?”

Ricks features sagged. He was hiding something from me.

“We were married but didn’t live together. Why?” I asked again.

“You needed your space—a space to do your magic.”

“You said ‘you needed your space’ at first. Did we have our problems when we were married?”

“Every couple has problems.”

“But ours were enough to keep us living in separate homes?”

He placed his hands on his hips. “You don’t understand. There are extenuating circumstances. Each of us has our own seat of magic. Mine comes from the earth. Thus, my home is made of stone and wood. Yours comes from the air, thus the attic arrangement. It is natural for each of us to have our own place.”

I thought about that for a while. Truthfully, I didn’t remember my past life and it wouldn’t do to fret over something I didn’t even remember. But this meant I couldn’t rely on some past happiness to confirm if I was supposed to be with Rick for the rest of my life. I needed to find out for myself, in this life. And I needed to change the subject because I was seriously ticking him off.

I lowered my eyes and waited a few heartbeats for the silence to drain the energy from the room. “What do you think we should do about Julius?”

“You’re changing the subject,
mi cielo
.”

“I don’t believe he didn’t know about Marcus. He’s up to something. If he’s raising an army of vampires, we have to stop him. Too many, and they will be impossible to control.”

“I counted fifteen in TiltWorld. We may have already reached the tipping point.”

“Do you think he was in contact with Marcus before he escaped?”

“I don’t know, but I’m staying vigilant. I believe we should keep a close watch on Julius. It’s our best chance of maintaining the peace.”

“Peace. I’d prefer an excuse to kill. The only good vampire is a dead vampire,” I said.

“That’s a harsh attitude, even for you.” Rick peered at me through hooded eyes. “Be careful who you say that to. We don’t want to alienate the supernatural community.”

Who would I talk to?
“Julius is up to something. He changed Gary. That has to be against the rules, isn’t it?”

“Not if Gary consented.”

“But it’s obvious he’s building his coven, and Marcus knew just where to go when he escaped.”

“We have no proof of that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah...not yet anyway. Maybe I can get some dirt on him from Gary but then, if I didn’t trust him before, I certainly don’t trust him now that he’s undead.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but perhaps you should brush up on your magic before taking on Julius. He’s very old and very powerful.”

“No offense taken. I know I have some things to learn.” I pressed myself up from his bed. “I should get going. I have errands to run today, and I seriously need a shower.”

“Are you going to see Logan?” he asked, resentment making his words short and sharp. Standing over me, the sheer size of him was intimidating, but it was the look of possessiveness he gave me that made me uncomfortable.

“Actually, no. I need to go grocery shopping and clean up the bloodstain in my foyer. But since you brought it up, I’m visiting him tomorrow. You should come. He needs all the support he can get right now.”

Rick’s head fell. I couldn’t deal with the jealousy shit, not when the person he was jealous of currently was so weak he couldn’t get out of bed by himself. I walked to his chest of drawers and pulled them out one by one. I found a t-shirt and some sweats to wear home.

“Oh, and Rick, if we’re ever going to do this again, you need to stop shredding my clothes. Those were my favorite scrubs.”

I left through the front door, more pissed off than I should have been, with Rick staring after me. His arms were crossed over his chest and he wasn’t smiling. It was a shitty way to leave things between us. But Rick wouldn’t be happy until Logan was a distant memory, and I was married to him, to boot. I couldn’t talk about it anymore. The answer was no on both accounts, and I wasn’t going to cave. No way.

Chapter 33

I’m True To Myself

C
leaning bloodstains from hardwood might be easier when the blood is fresh. Dried as it was, I had to mop it up in layers. I used an old string mop I found in the broom closet and watched it taint the clear water in my bucket with every swipe. When I was done, I flushed the blood and water down the toilet and threw away the mop.

I collected all of the skulls into a large black garbage bag and left them on the side of the porch. I thought about walking down to tell Rick they were there but decided against it. He was a grown man. He could take care of his own skulls. Plus, I wasn’t ready to talk to him again. Whenever I was within three feet of him, my feelings became a confused mishmash of past life memories, uncontrollable lust, and his personal hang-ups pouring through our metaphysical connection. And let’s not forget the thick layer of jealousy Rick had added over the Logan situation. I needed space and time to sort out my feelings.

With my foyer back to normal, I microwaved some water and mixed in hot cocoa from a packet. It was a far cry from the scratch kind Logan used to make for me. I sat on my stoop, sipping the unpalatable concoction and tried to sort out the tangled mess of emotions inside my head.

I missed Logan.

Maybe Rick’s jealousy was warranted. If I was honest with myself, I couldn’t picture my life without Logan. I’d promised to help him through his recovery, and I intended to follow through. But what would happen when he was better? Could I honestly watch him walk away? Would friendship be possible when I could still feel the way he’d slid under my skin? I wasn’t sure. And what did that mean for my relationship with Rick?

Rick was my…what? Boyfriend wasn’t strong enough, but I wasn’t married to him. I wasn’t sure exactly where that left us. I did love him. At least, I thought I did, but it was hard to sort out which feelings were his and which were mine. What did love mean, anyway? One thing was for sure: I needed him. If I was going to take down Julius and his quickly expanding coven, I required Rick and his beast. Beyond the help he would give me to understand my power, his muscle and the strength his blood gave me were essential to my survival. Love or not, we were connected in a symbiotic dance of magic and wills.

Which made me think how little I understood about all of this. He’d said there were caretakers all over the world, and Prudence had said there were more like me. Would I ever meet them? What could I learn from another Hecate?

From my perch, I watched the sunset. The sky painted itself in pinks and purples, and I came to terms with reality. I couldn’t control who I was before, or the challenges hidden in my future. All I could control was today. Today—well, tonight—I was going to begin reading the
Book of Light
. I was going to start to plan how Rick and I would stop Julius. And I was going to find a way to buy this house from my father. Because if one thing was for certain, my attic did not belong in someone else’s hands.

The last rays of light disappeared beyond the horizon. I turned toward the door, realizing this would be the first night I would spend in this house alone. Prudence and Logan were gone and although a soul could visit my attic at any time, so far tonight there was no one. Considering Logan had been the first in two years, I supposed I’d better get used to being alone. And maybe that was for the best. I needed to know more about who I was to be ready for something more.

I closed and locked the door behind me. After I’d left Rick’s, I’d done some shopping. I scooped up the package from the electronics store from my kitchen counter. Then I headed for the attic. The key turned easily in the lock, and I walked into the light, using my magic to change it to my needs. Today I conjured a desk in front of the
Book of Light
and placed the laptop computer I’d purchased on it. I’d buy a real desk as soon as I could afford it, so that it would be here during the day. Entering my spells into a database would be a great way to learn them, but looking at the size of the tome, it might take a lifetime. Unable to face the job at hand, I procrastinated by walking to the window and looking out across the graveyard.

Something moved among the headstones, and I thought about Rick. Love was scary. It made you vulnerable. I couldn’t dwell on my romantic feelings. I needed to trust he would do his part no matter what. Life was bigger than one man, or two. Hell, life was bigger than all three of us.

I had come to this house wanting to stand on my own two feet, to grow into the responsible adult I knew I was. I’d blamed myself for what happened with Gary and felt inadequate and naïve. But I’d come a long way. I was stronger, levelheaded. I’d killed. I’d taken risks and succeeded for my cause. And I would accept what life and fate had in store for me.

I had responsibilities because unlike the day I’d moved in, I knew my purpose now. I was Hecate. I was the Monk’s Hill witch.

About the Author

 

 

Genevieve Jack grew up in a suburb of Chicago and attended a high school rumored to be haunted. She loves old cemeteries and enjoys a good ghost tour. Genevieve specializes in original, cross-genre stories with surprising twists and writes a best-selling young adult series under a different name. She lives in central Illinois with her husband, two children, and a brittany named Riptide who holds down her feet while she writes.

 

Visit Genevieve at:

 

http://www.GenevieveJack.com

 

http://genevievejack.blogspot.com

 

http://twitter.com/Genevieve_Jack

 

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorGenevieveJack

 

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6477522.Genevieve_Jack

Acknowledgements

 

I am indebted to the following people for their help, support, and inspiration:

To my husband, A, thank you for supporting and encouraging my writing.

To my friend MM, who survived nursing school with me and is always willing to share her experiences, thank you for the inspiration.

To the women of Random Moon books: Laurie Larsen, Laurie Bradach, Katy Lewis, and Leta Gail Doerr, thank you for your friendship, constant support, and helpful advice.

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