Reap & Repent (12 page)

This was the first time there had ever been anyone else with the guy, let alone a woman. His curiosity was more than piqued.

* * *

Ruth thought the scent was divine, and if nothing else, Nate’s efforts were dampening the smell of bleach and sulfur. He chanted softly as he worked.

It was strange having two men in her house, but somehow she felt more relieved than worried. She thought these two could probably take care of most anything that threatened her. Probably the salt could do the rest until Nate finished his work.

Physically they were both solid and intimidating guys, and she knew from experience that Deacon had more than a couple of tricks up his sleeve. That man had some mad skills, and she was pretty certain she had seen only the beginning of what he had to offer.

While she didn’t exactly feel relaxed, she felt safe, and she tried to turn off her worries.

While Nate prepped the house, Deacon stood silently in a corner, gazing out the window at the dark woods. Meanwhile, she was shuffling around the house, continuing in her efforts to get it organized. Pleased that she’d made a good-sized dent in the junk she’d brought home from school, she now had some empty boxes she could use to pack up a few of her mother’s things.

It didn’t take her long to fill the three small boxes in the living room alone. By the time she was finished, Nate had also finished his cleansing and purifying ritual.

“It’s time,” he said, as he moved over to the spot he’d determined to be the exact center of the house. “Stand here with me, both of you. The more energy we raise, the stronger the circle of protection will be.”

Ruth didn’t know how much help she was going to be. The ten times she’d watched
The Craft
probably didn’t count as experience with witchcraft.

“Hold hands,” Nate said, reaching for them both. “We need to make a circle.”

Ruth took Deacon’s hand in hers, and then, after a second of hesitation, Nate’s. A blush crept up her neck, which she hoped neither of them noticed. When Deacon gave her hand a squeeze, she looked over at him. He stifled a smile.

Nate took deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling several times in long draws.

“Let’s envision a circle with its center here where we’re standing. Imagine it extending out about two feet past the exterior of the house. Now turn that circle into a sphere surrounding the house. Both of you hold that image in your minds as
we raise the power. Concentrate on it, and don’t be distracted. You may feel a pull or warmth, but it won’t hurt you. Don’t break contact or leave our circle until I say ‘Amen.’“

Ruth nodded, as did Deacon. Nate released their hands briefly to light the four candles on the floor in the center of the circle, then took them up again. She tried to clear her head. Already distracted from holding hands with two men—two
hot
men—she tried to push the novelty of the situation away and imagine the sphere. She wanted this to work. Of course she could buy a gun, but there was a pretty good chance that bullets weren’t going to kill any supernatural beasties or demons. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on Nate’s voice.

As he began to chant, her body started to sway, becoming lighter and lighter. Nate’s chants accelerated to a frenzied pace, and static electricity raised the hairs on her arms and crackled along her skin. She tried to hold herself together and concentrate, but her body betrayed her. If not for being tethered to two men, she feared she might float away like a child’s lost parade balloon.

The cool night air brought her to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she looked down on her own physical body as she floated above it and through her roof. Surrounded by the most beautiful silvery blue aura, her house was the first nonhuman aura she had ever seen as she continued to drift away from the house and into the night.

The aura shimmered under her, both beautiful and frightening. Just as she feared she was lost for good, she was jerked back.

The next thing she knew, Deacon was on top of her, both of his hands pinning her shoulders to the floor. He glowed like a campfire.

Trying to raise her hand to touch him, she somehow manipulated the glow around him, and he flew across the living room and into the stone fireplace.

Panic flared in her chest, rolling off her in a wave of visible turquoise light. She cried out, sure that she had somehow killed him. With effort, he got to his feet and shook his head as if he was trying to unring his bell. He made his way cautiously back to her. Nate hung back, a silent but slack-jawed observer as Deacon reached down to pull her to her feet.

“What the hell was that?” Nate asked, clearly rattled.

“I guess Ruth has a lot of energy to offer,” Deacon said, smiling.

“Ya think? I’ve cast a lot of circles, but never one with that much power. It felt…terrifying…and good.”

“It’s a good circle, Nate. It will hold.”

“Yeah,” Nate agreed, as he ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

“Door?” Deacon asked, his attention still focused on Ruth.

“Right. Ruth, you alone can open or close the circle. You’re the key, and you control the door. The only things that can enter, supernaturally speaking, have to be carried or brought in by you. They have to be touching you. Once you are back inside, the circle will close behind you. Imagine it again as a sphere, surrounding your house with light to reinforce it.”

“Like a snow globe?” she asked, still shaky on her feet.

“Sure, that’s as good an image as any. Visualize it as being complete and impenetrable. If you do that, as strong as your energy is…the circle of protection will be able to withstand a lot.”

Deacon led her back to the couch. “When will it need to be reinforced?”

“Each time she passes into it she can reinforce it. After any known attack, you can call me, and I’ll patch it up. If it fractures, I can recast it. But it feels strong, maybe the strongest I’ve ever experienced. You’ll be safe against all supernatural trespassers… Now humans are another story. It won’t stop your run-of-the-mill human for shit.” Nate smiled at her. “But that’s what shotguns are for.”

Nate handed her a card with his cell phone number in case of a circle emergency. Ruth still wasn’t sure which category Nate fell into, human or supernatural, until it came time for him to leave. When he couldn’t pass out of her yard, she led him through, his hand on her shoulder. He wouldn’t leave until she stepped back inside and the circle closed to his satisfaction.

Now his was a worthwhile and useful talent.

She watched his taillights disappear down the drive and through the trees. Carrying the card back into the house, she stuck it onto the fridge with a piece of tape.

“Well, that was exciting,” she said. It was 2:36 a.m., and she was exhausted and wired at the same time.

* * *

Deacon walked the perimeter of the house one last time, pausing to peer out each window and scan the edge of the dark woods. The fat moon shone bright and clear, illuminating the unkempt yard. He could see as far as the edge of the woods…beyond that was anyone’s guess what might be lurking. The weeds were so high that they’d be above the sash of the window in another week.

Nate had cast a strong circle, and Ruth’s surprising power had fortified it with more strength than he could have imagined. He was still shaken by how she had astrally projected. While raising the power for the circle, her soul had left her body, rising up through the ceiling and beyond. Shocked, he had acted on instinct, making contact with her body before her soul completely ripped free. His interruption had been enough to force it back into her body. Dealing with untethered souls was a tricky and dangerous business. He’d tried to reinhabit a soul once before, and it hadn’t worked.

Nate had seemed oblivious to it all, and Deacon hadn’t explained the full implications to Ruth. She had been close to dying. Detached from its body, an untethered soul could and would become lost in the ether, an eternal Haunt.

Most people who practiced astral projection took years to master it, learning to tether their soul to their body before projecting, and then reining it in when the time came. Ruth’s projection had been accidental, the result of an overload of power coursing through her body. The energy had basically shoved her soul out.

Strong as he was, Deacon couldn’t project his soul…and didn’t want to. It was dangerous, and it left your body vulnerable and unprotected. Sometimes it
left you dead. He could see the advantages of being able to do it, but the dangers were far greater. If Ruth had already awakened such a great gift, what might lie ahead?

Danger.

No, he’d keep her safe. What had happened to Kara would not happen to Ruth. He’d been much younger then, less than a century old. He could and would protect her from any threat…including Kylen. Once his greatest friend, Kylen’s choice had turned him into an enemy. Satisfied that nothing lurked in the night, Deacon returned to the kitchen.

* * *

Ruth stared at the fridge, wondering if it would be bad to have a second dinner this late. She settled for a bowl of cereal.

“Would you like some, too?” she asked, pulling out an extra bowl.

“Sure.”

Ruth poured cereal and milk into two bowls, and they carried them into the living room, eating in crunchy silence on the couch. Questions coursed through her mind. But at this point, there were too many to prioritize. She pushed them down for another day. She had no idea what had happened while they were raising the power for the circle or how exactly she’d found herself floating above her house, but it both terrified and empowered her. She wondered if it could ever happen again. Or what would have happened if Deacon hadn’t been there to snap her back out of it. Would she have floated away into the black night, never to return?

How amazing! How terrifying.

“What was that?” Deacon asked, pointing to the empty bowl in his hands.

“Lucky Charms,” she said. She didn’t mention that it was one of her guilty pleasures…that and Cookie Crisp. grown-ups most certainly did not eat Lucky Charms and Cookie Crisp. They ate things like granola and bran and Special K, but she was all about the comfort food.

“Lucky Charms? Huh.”

He acted as if it was the first he’d ever heard of Lucky Charms. Was it possible that he was even more out of the loop than she was? Lucky Charms was the breakfast of champions…or something like that. Of course, she had a feeling that his expertise might lie in more important areas than sugary breakfast cereals. In fact, she was beginning to realize that her future might depend upon it.

“We could use some lucky charms.” He smiled.

Ruth smiled back. She was pretty sure he’d made a joke. He didn’t seem like the joking type, so she appreciated the effort. He had a great smile and she had an almost irresistible urge to brush her palm across his stubble-darkened jaw.

She tightened her grip on her bowl instead, unsure what was and wasn’t acceptable behavior. Her personal interactions with men hadn’t done much to prepare her for someone like Deacon.

The good stuff she had learned from books, television and movies. Auras didn’t show up on the big screen. She was more of a reader than a TV junkie, but over the years, she’d still managed to watch an amazing number of movies. With
nothing but time on her hands—no close friends or family or job obligations—she’d filled her time with lots of indoor and solitary pursuits.

It was difficult to know which actresses or characters to use as role models in any given situation, but she figured it was safer to play it closer to Anne Hathaway as the Princess of Genovia in
The Princess Diaries
than as Glenn Close boiling bunnies in
Fatal Attraction.
Either way, she was screwed, because she had a very limited idea of what she was doing.

She considered the man on her couch from the corner of her eye. He had sprung all manner of frightening and bizarre revelations on her in the past two days, yet she couldn’t help but feel herself becoming more and more inclined to curl up onto his lap and let him have his way. And that felt surprisingly good.

Hasty. Stupid. But good.

Deacon looked over at her, studying her as if he was trying to read her mind. Which he had reassured her he could
not
do. She believed him, but she blushed anyway. Why did she have so much sudden and blind trust in this man?

“What?” he asked, his blue-green eyes sparkling.

“Nothing,” she lied.

He smiled and set his bowl on the end table, then reached over for her bowl and did the same.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a low purr.

She scooted closer to him, and he wound an arm around her, pulling her close. His warm, strong embrace had her heart skipping along at a gallop. He took her hand in his and held it, examining it. She eased her head back against his
chest, and wished she could crawl up into his clothes and feel his skin against hers again.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. She closed her eyes and let herself relax against him. Suddenly being vertical seemed way wrong. Scooping herself up into his lap, she tucked her head in under his chin and snuggled there.

“I saw that you cleared out your mother’s room.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Can we go in there?”

Ruth knew he was asking for a lot more.

“Yes,” she said to all he implied.

“Are you sure? Because if we go in there, we’re not coming out until daylight.”

Ruth trembled.

“Yes,” she said again.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

She leaned her cheek against his chest as he rose and carried her the six steps into her new bedroom.

Chapter Thirteen

Deacon carried Ruth into the master bedroom and laid her gently down on the bed’s quilted comforter.

“Don’t move,” he ordered gruffly.

Lighting two candles, he placed one on each side of the bed on the small oak nightstands. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Ruth glanced out the bedroom window, where the moon was shining through a covering of clouds above the tree line. It was so late…
or early,
she thought.