Shadows edge shadow fall.., p.14
Shadow's Edge (Shadow Falls Series Book 1), page 14
Chapter 18
Hazel
It doesn’t even occur to me to wonder if Bridget and Remi are still out in the living room until I get up to take a shower. There’s a moment when I consider being embarrassed because I know we weren’t quiet at all. Like, not even a little. But I just can’t work up the energy to care. I’m a sated mass of human being, and everything feels too good for me to be concerned at that moment.
After I shower and get dressed, I wander out into the kitchen where Alarik is making some breakfast. He hands me a mug of coffee before I even have to ask, and I see it’s black with a little bit of sugar, just how I like it. This entire scene is so domestic, and the fact that he’s taking care of me has me grinning like an idiot. But I can’t stop the emotions bubbling up.
There’s a note on the counter from Remi, and I snort when I read it. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a screamer. Call me later, hooker.”
Alarik scoops some eggs onto my plate along with a piece of toast that he’s even buttered.
“What a sweet note.” He laughs, and I can’t help but join in. I feel like I just drank some cult Kool-Aid and my only job is to worship Alarik. My eyes probably have metaphorical hearts floating out of them with every blink, but I just can’t seem to look my fill of the gorgeous man in front of me. I’m so distracted that I jump when there’s a knock at my door.
“That’ll be Dante.” Alarik pushes a few pieces of bacon onto my plate, drops a kiss on my temple and walks over to the door to let in his friend. To my house.
I’m halfway amused by how comfortable he’s making himself, but I also don’t care because it feels … right.
Dante comes strolling in followed by Silas. I’ve only ever seen him from across the street when Bridget pointed him out. I’m tempted to hate him on principle because of how shitty he’s made Bridget feel. But he surprises me with a hug, enfolding me between his giant muscled arms until I’m smothered by his fresh, earthy scent that is somehow comforting and friendly. If that is even possible to determine by the way someone smells.
I don’t even have time to raise my arms to return the hug before Alarik is pulling the beast back by his shirt.
“That’s enough, Silas,” Alarik grumbles at his friend, and I hide my smile by taking a bite of bacon.
“I was just introducing myself.” Silas smirks at me and grabs the piece of bacon out of my hand, winking at me. I know he’s just egging Alarik on, but I’m not sure it’s wise. There’s a rattle deep in Alarik’s chest that I haven’t heard before, and all three of us, Dante, Silas, and I snap our heads in his direction.
I slide off my stool and stand in front of Alarik, setting my hands on his hips and pulling him into me with a quick tug. “Ah, Vlad, is that a snake in your chest, or are you just happy to see me?”
The smarter move would have been getting off my stool and running the hell away, but my instinct is telling me that he won’t hurt me and whatever that noise is, it isn’t directed at me. Silas, on the other hand, holds his hands up and takes a step back.
“Sorry, Alarik, didn’t mean to cross a line.” Then he turns to me, pressing a hand over his heart, looking so damn sincere I can’t hate him. Frick. “Sorry, Hazel. I’m Silas. I’ve heard a lot about you from this jackass here.” He nods at Alarik and then glares at Dante. “And from that jackass, too.”
“Nice to meet you.” I nod, and then turn my attention back to Alarik. “You good, Vlad?”
His hands are most definitely on my ass now, gripping a little harder than strictly necessary, but who am I kidding, I like it. His mouth captures mine in a possessive fury of teeth and tongues, and I barely have a chance to recognize he’s kissing me before he’s pulling away.
“I’m better now.”
Blinking up at him, I lick my swollen lips and exhale roughly. “Okay then.”
I turn around, still encircled in Alarik’s arms, to look at the amused faces of Dante and Silas. Alarik keeps my back anchored to his front as if he’s unwilling to let there be any space between us now that there are other people in the room.
“Morning, Hazel.” Dante laughs, and Alarik makes that rattling noise again. Dante snorts, and I take a step away and shove Alarik to a seat.
“Sit. Stop making predatory noises and calm down.”
He mumbles something as he eats the rest of the eggs on my plate.
“Alright, now that we’ve got that out of the way, did you find out anything last night?” I ask, my gaze roaming over the three unfairly good-looking men in the room.
Dante responds since Alarik’s mouth is full of my breakfast. “There’s most definitely something going on in Shadow Falls. There are still ghosts outside of the town’s boundaries.”
“Do you have any idea why all the ghosts are gone? Or why those fucking shadows are feeding on people and trying to attack me?”
Alarik pushes away the plate in front of him and takes a sip of my coffee, bringing the cup with him as he turns to face the rest of us. “I have an idea, but I’d like to test it out.”
Silas is half leaning, half sitting, on the back of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. “What do you have in mind?”
Dante leans forward just a little. He’s standing by the edge of the kitchen island, on the side closest to the front door. His eyes are narrowed in thought. I don’t know him well, but he always seems so flippant and snarky that it’s odd to see him looking serious. Although it makes sense. Whatever is happening is affecting one of his best friends. Why wouldn’t he be concerned about things?
Alarik turns his dark brown eyes on me, the depth of warmth and feeling I see there sending a flutter racing through me. And I swear I almost blush from the intensity of the look, even though I know his thoughts aren’t going there.
“Would you hold a seance?” he asks me, a note of concern in his voice. I know he’s thinking about how my mother used to use them as a weapon to con people. But that’s not what he’s asking me to do. He wants to hold a legitimate seance to try to contact the dead.
“I haven’t done one in a long time.”
He waits while I sort through my mental shit. I haven’t said no, but I haven't said yes either. “Why do you think a seance will help?
“I’m hoping if we can channel enough power, we can contact some of the spirits that have disappeared from this town. That they might have some answers. And can fill us in on why they are fleeing, and maybe they’ll know what those shadows are.”
A weight settles on my chest. I don’t want to be responsible for Alarik’s safety, hell, his life. What if I fail? What if I fuck up and hurt him, or myself? He must see the thoughts racing through my mind because he stands and cups my face between his hands.
“You can’t fail, because the only goal is to find out information. If the only thing we find out is that we can’t contact spirits through a seance, then that will be one more piece of the puzzle. I don’t want to push you to do this. But I think it could help.” He leans down to brush his lips with mine and this time I’m the one yanking his head back down so I can press against him and deepen this kiss. We’re both at an odd angle but I don’t care as we melt into each other, and a fierce sense of ownership rocks me. I want him, and I want to be his.
Someone clears their throat loudly with an exaggerated cough. And we finally break apart. “I’ll do it,” I murmur as I stare into Alarik’s warm eyes.
“What do you need from us?” Dante responds, ready and waiting to help us figure this shit out.
We spend the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon gathering up the things we’ll need. Remi is manning the store for the day, and I call her and Bridget to wrangle them into helping with the séance.
Remi sounded bored and agreed without missing a beat. Bridget asked a million questions and fretted that she wouldn’t be any help.
“I just need warm bodies in the seat, Bridget. I have an odd number of people now, and it will be better with an even number. All you have to do is sit there and try not to stab Silas.”
She’s quiet for a minute. “Silas will be there?” I can’t tell what she’s thinking from the tone of her voice. It’s low and quiet, but is it angry? Or tentative?
“I know you’d rather not spend time with him, but we could use your help.” I press her gently, not wanting to make her uncomfortable or force her to be around Silas, but also needing them both there.
“It’s fine, Hazel. I can keep my temper in check.”
I try to keep the smile from infecting my voice, because I still can’t imagine Bridget getting mad. Her talking about Silas the night before was the most irritated I’ve seen her and even then, I’d say it was at a level two, possibly three, on a scale of one to ten.
“Thank you, Bridget. I’ll owe you. I can’t bake, and I can’t fix stuff either, so I’ll have to owe you something totally useless.”
This makes her laugh. I sense her releasing some of the stress I’ve just caused as the phone crackles with her breath huffing into the mouthpiece.
“I’ll hold you to that. When and where do you need me?”
Chapter 19
Alarik
We decide to hold the seance at my house. Hazel’s is too small, and Dante adamantly insisted that he wasn’t going to sit on the floor for a seance. We’ve gathered around an old game table meant for playing cards, but I don’t think it has ever been used for that purpose. The red felt on the top of it is pristine from lack of use. Mainly, it’s sat unused for as long as I can remember. I don’t exactly have a lot of social gatherings at my house.
There supplies laid out over the tabletop makes me think Hazel raided half of her store. There are candles and herbs, vials of liquids ranging in color from clear to a dark, dark red that has me questioning what the contents are. There’s an old book that is cracked and yellowed, its pages stacked unevenly so the side looks like someone has torn out and shoved them back in time and time again.
Hazel looks composed, directing people to specific seats around the table as she lights the candles. Once those are lit, she grabs a bundle of sage, lights the end and then blows it out, waving it around the room as Remi dramatically coughs and waves her hand to clear the air.
“Drama queen.” Hazel pushes her with her hip as she walks, and Remi snorts and then coughs again, pretending to choke on the smoke.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, wanting to be helpful but also wanting to stay out of her way if it’s going to make things more complicated.
“Almost ready,” she says as she walks behind me, trailing her hand over my back as she passes me to stand in front of the old book. It’s laying open in front of one of the chairs, and Hazel trails a finger down the page as if refreshing her memory about how to do something. I love how serious her face is as she gets set up. Not that this situation isn’t serious as a heart attack to a mortal, but it just proves that she’s nothing like her mother, or the person her mother tried to form her into. From the way she talks about her, I know it weighs on her.
Hazel has placed us around the table alternating man and woman. I was a little surprised when she put Silas and Bridget next to one another since I know Bridget tried to tear out Silas’s heart through his asshole just the day before. Hazel promptly raised a hand when Bridget was about to object and informed them that, “the more emotion between individuals, the more energy we can summon.”
That stops Bridget in her tracks, and she grumbles a “fine” before flopping down in the chair with a lot more heft then a person so petit should be able to manage. Silas looks frustrated and awkward, which is odd for him. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so agitated before. I raise my brows as I catch his attention, but he just shakes his head, looking guilty about something, but I have no idea what. That’s for him to deal with. We’ve got bigger problems right now.
“Everyone sit, and I’ll need you to hold hands,” Hazel commands, shooting a look at Bridget who gives it right back. She has a lot more fire than I realized.
Still, everyone obeys, arms stretched over the table. I hold Hazel’s hand on my right and Remi’s to my left. Remi holds Dante’s hand, and then Bridget and Silas round out the circle with Silas holding Hazel’s other hand. Even though the candles are flickering on top of the table, we’ve still left most of the lights on in the room. With the shadows gunning for Hazel, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Hazel insisted that the lights being out was really more for aesthetic purposes anyway, and it’s the candlelight that’s the most important. According to her, the flicker of the flame from the candle provides a point of focus. For her and the spirits she’s summoning.
Hazel’s voice is low when she starts to speak, and it resonates through the room with a command that’s not typically there. There is power and magic behind that voice, and my reaper doesn’t just like it, he fucking loves it. He’s growling contentedly inside of my chest.
“I need everyone to concentrate, focusing on my voice,” she orders, and everyone sits up a little straighter. There’s a sudden energy in the air that wasn’t there a moment before. It isn’t malevolent, but there is definitely something approaching.
“Spirits, ghosts, whatever you like to be called. I need you. Come forth. We know that something is blocking you. Something is happening in this town. We need your help. For your sake. For our sake.” She inhales deeply as she finishes, her eyes roll closed as her head tips back.
A pulse of energy surges through the room, and I struggle to stay upright. It feels like pure fucking heaven. Another beat throbs around us, and I can’t help the short burst of breath that puffs out of my chest. Fuck, I’ve got a hard on. My eyes dash around the room to take in the others, but no one else seems to be responding the same way. Thank fuck. I have a feeling it’s the energy from the ghosts that are giving me a boost, just like when I take the souls from this plane. But damn, it’s powerful, and it seems to be coming straight from Hazel.
Her eyes are open, and she’s staring at me, like she can feel it too. Her pupils are blown, and I can see the pulse at the base of her neck throbbing wildly. Shit. I want to grab her, throw her down on top of this table and fuck her until neither one of us can walk. But that can’t happen right now.
We both get our emotions under control, and Hazel speaks again.
“Please come forward. We need answers. We need help.” Her voice is husky with lust, and I know she’s having the same reaction I am. Although, from the surprise in her eyes, this isn’t the usual result of calling on ghosts. Everyone else is sitting with tense shoulders and stiff spines as if they can’t see what is going on around us, clueless about what Hazel and I are experiencing.
The candles flicker on the table, and my head snaps around to stare at them. At first there’s nothing, just the flame dancing back and forth like normal. But then it sputters and pops a little higher, and I look over at Hazel in time to see her eyes widen.
“Thank you for coming. Can you speak?”
I follow the line of her eyes and see a young woman with vibrant red hair, wearing some slinky lingerie straight out of the fifties, standing next to Dante. She looks like she wants to touch him but isn’t capable as a ghost.
“This one is yummy,” she says and then winks at Remi before she pretends to stroke Dante’s arm. She does all this before she looks back at Hazel.
“I’m here, so what is it that you need?”
Right to the point. I like a straight shooter. Hazel doesn't waste any time.
“Do you know where all the ghosts are in this town? You are the first one I’ve seen,” Hazel asks, watching the ghost try to run her hand through Dante’s hair, who is surprisingly just sitting and taking it. He must realize how fucking dire the situation has gotten and is trying not to chase away the one ghost who has come out to help us.
“Oh, they’re hiding.”
“Why?” Hazel replies.
The red-headed ghost turns her gaze toward me, then to Hazel.
“He’s pretty tasty too.”
“The ghosts.” Hazel sighs, looking frustrated that our ghost is so easily sidetracked and is apparently horny.
Red leaves Dante’s side as she makes her way in my direction, pausing long enough to wrinkle her nose at Silas. “Ugh, this one’s magic is choking me.”
She pretends to cough as she waves her hand around like she’s defusing a room full of stinky perfume. Her pert nose scrunched and lips pursed.
“What is she talking about?” Silas grumbles with irritation, but I shake my head at him. We don’t have time for distractions.
“The ghosts. Do you know where they’ve all gone?” This pulls her attention back to me, and a sly smile creeps up her face as she resumes moving toward me.
“Interesting you should ask, Mr. Soul Sucker.” Her eyes are sharp even though she’s transparent. She tilts her head to the side as though appraising me. She looks at me like she knows something as a creepy smile tips up her lips, and she rounds the table to stand beside me. Hazel’s fingers tighten around mine, and I squeeze hers back in a silent comfort.
“What do you mean?” Hazel asks the question this time.
The ghost looks over her shoulder at Hazel for a moment before she turns back to me. “Your house is being used against you. Let me see … who here eats the souls of the damned?” She stares at me, way too amused for what is going on. “And let’s think … all those souls have disappeared along with the ghosts, and yet there are these fancy new shadows that are sucking the life out of people in this shady town.” She hops up on the table, essentially sitting on top of my hand and Hazel’s. Her mouth forms a little “oh,” and she pretends to shudder before she blows me a kiss, swinging her opaque legs like a child.
“Now, reaper, don’t you think that’s all just a little too coincidental?” All of the amusement is gone as she glares at me, like I personally have something to do with this.
