Vivian was not alone.
Her first instinct to spin and fire in all directions, but she stood paralyzed by fear. Her bravado evaporated as the reality of her situation sank in. She’d been stupid. She was alone, unprotected, and he knew it, the rogue guardian who’d surely chosen this moment to strike.
Her battle with her guardians, dismissal of the other wayward spirits that night, and Darkmore’s departure had left her defenseless save for her own powers. She doubted she could control them enough to defeat an experienced guardian. Maybe she could subdue the rogue until help arrived or she could escape. All of this careened through her mind in the space of seconds. Another flash.
He was there.
He lurked in the shadows of her kitchen, a tall and imposing figure. Sparks flew from her fingertips. No flight. He was too close. She’d have to fight. She stood her ground.
Another flash.
He was bare. She’d seen enough to know that he’d arrived fully corporeal and ready. The air around them was thick and redolent with mutual anticipation mingled with fear and…heat. It was a familiar heat, one she thought she’d never feel again. She wanted that heat like she’d never wanted anything in her life.
She wanted him.
Fear morphed into longing as her greatest desire stood just out of reach.
Come to me now.
He was on her and she saw raw hunger his green eyes.
Lust, anger, and fear intermingled with disbelief and primal need. He didn’t utter a word. Lifting her onto the kitchen counter, he slipped her robe off, leaned her back, and was inside of her in the space of a heartbeat.
Vivian shrieked and he roared. Forcing her body up to meet him, her mouth located his and she attacked, unleashing wave after wave of passion. He growled and pushed her back down, pinning her shoulders to the granite and holding her immobile as he impaled her. She managed to break free so she could grip his back, clawing him from shoulders to his ass to spur him on. His relentless movements didn’t let up until she convulsed beneath him.
She couldn’t breathe, but she used adrenaline to her advantage and pushed hard against him even as he pinioned within her. Pausing long enough to raise her and allow her to wrap her arms and legs around him, he lifted her again, still joined, and moved them to the kitchen table. He broke a vase of flowers in the process.
She clung to his neck and shoulders with all of her might as he pushed her back down. She tried to find his mouth again, but he was insistent.
“Don’t fight me, Vivian,” was all he said.
She wanted to fight him. To scream and rage at him for leaving her, to beg him to never leave again.
To grovel and beg his forgiveness for sending him away.
She relented and leaned back on the table, bracing herself for him. She rested on her elbows and found some leverage, but he made it clear that he was in charge. It seemed to be what he needed. She cried out as he began to move within her at a furious pace. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Her back ached. He kept going and going and she didn’t want it to end, even when her arms screamed for her to let them down. She came again and came hard. He soon followed and collapsed on her. She drank in the light that emanated from his spent form.
She hadn’t realized how thirsty she’d been until she took his light. It coursed through her and filled her. She wasn’t sated, but the night was young yet.
They lay together a long while in silence while recovering and shuddering with aftershocks. She couldn’t think of anything to say yet. She simply wanted to stay there forever. With him. But she was getting really sore. She tried to nudge him so she could shift to a more comfortable position, but he pushed her back and embraced her with a ferocity she’d never felt from him before.
In the end, she surrendered.
“Fine, Zeke. You win.”
***
The rain still pounded when she first awoke, though the thunder was more distant. It was still dark. The clock on her nightstand read 3:08 a.m. Zeke must have carried me to bed.
“Zeke,” she cried out, stiffening. She sat bolt upright and cast her gaze about in the darkness, fearful that it was all a dream. Or maybe he’d left. But it was still warm.
“I’m here,” came a voice in the dark.
“Where are you?”
“Over here,” he said. As her eyes adjusted, she made out his outline and the contours of his body. He sat in her mother’s rocking chair, which occupied one corner of her bedroom. He didn’t move a muscle. She found his stillness more unnerving than his earlier aggression. She threw back the covers, seeking some relief from the rising temperature.
“Why are you all the way over there?” she asked.
“I was watching you,” came his reply.
She wanted to grab him and pull him close to her. You came back to me! Something about his demeanor held her back. Anxiety crept through the thin veil of peace, threatening to tear it to pieces.
She didn’t go to him. She waited.
“You were with the reaper tonight,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“He’s helping me, Zeke,” she said. She tried to remain calm. “There are some things you should know. He’s been an insurance policy against Ezra and he’s been helping me track down a guardian who’s out to get me. I’d like to tell you about it. I…God, I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long.”
“I’m listening.”
She took in a deep breath and told him everything. It took a while. He’d been away for a year. She looked at the clock again, which now read 4:27 a.m. It felt cooler. She didn’t know if that was good or bad.
“Will you come here beside me?” she asked. She hoped her voice didn’t sound as small as she felt.
She waited, cloaked in a blanket of guilt. She didn’t know where it came from or why she felt it, but guilt persisted. Tears threatened, and she closed her eyes to hide them.
Come back to me. Please, oh please come back to me.
After a moment, strong arms enveloped her, holding her in a vise grip. She returned the embrace, tears falling freely. His sweltering heat dissipated, replaced by the welcome simmer of comfort.
“You were kissing him,” Zeke whispered into her hair.
“I thought you were lost to me, that you’d gone someplace better. I—”
“I didn’t like you kissing him,” he said. He released her from his fierce embrace long enough to claim her mouth. He was still possessive. At that moment, she was more than happy to be claimed.
When she stopped to catch her breath, she asked, “How did you get back? Will you stay? Can we—”
It was difficult to speak with strong hands stroking her tender flesh.
“He’s been here, too. In your bedroom,” Zeke said, his voice roughened with anger or desire, perhaps both.
“Nothing h-h-happened,” she gasped. Zeke had clever fingers.
“Nothing like this,” he hissed as she groaned. He had a clever tongue, too.
“Zeke,” she whispered. There was so much she wanted to say, reassurances to be given and received. All she could manage was, “Stay with me, please.”
“Shh,” he whispered. “Talk later. Love now.”
CHAPTER 22
There was something deliciously sinful about fucking on your kitchen table and then having your friends over for lunch. She and Zeke had managed to christen every place setting over the past few nights. She couldn’t stop smiling, though she felt a little pang of guilt. Then again, she did clean and disinfect the table before serving lunch, so she gave herself full permission to enjoy the private joke.
The guilt and confusion she experienced whenever she thought of the reaper was much harder to bear. Still, she tried to focus on the bliss. Zeke had come back to her. That’s all that mattered.
“You seem relaxed,” Kay offered with a knowing smile.
Vivian smiled back but didn’t offer any details. It was killing her, since Kay was one of two living persons who knew about her ghost lover, but she had
n’t had a chance to tell her that he’d come back. She could tell Kay. She wanted to tell Kay, but something niggled at the back of her mind and stilled her tongue.
“Give me a hand with these, will you?” Vivian said, handing Kay one tray of deviled eggs.
“You think there’s any room left on the table?” Kay muttered, balancing the tray with one hand while using the other to slide a plate of sliced honey ham out of the way.
“I don’t want anyone to go home hungry,” she said.
No danger there. She had enough to feed a small army. An army of aunts, Sue’s in particular. Sue Carlson-Jameson’s father’s sisters were funny about weddings and funerals. They never attended. So Vivian agreed to host a luncheon for them and the newlyweds, along with a few other close friends and family, before the Jamesons left for their honeymoon in Vegas.
“So,” Kay began. “Are you just going to keep grinning like a fool or are you going to tell me what happened with your friend Mr. Darkmore?”
Another pang of guilt stabbed her in the gut. “It’s a little complicated,” Vivian said. The ringing doorbell chimed to announce a reprieve from her interrogation. “Look, I’ll tell you all about it later, I promise.”
“Just a hint,” Kay whispered.
“Zeke’s back,” she blurted out. The look on Kay’s face was priceless. It felt wonderful to say it out loud. She wondered why she’d been so hesitant.
“We will talk more about this later,” Kay said. Her voice left no room for argument.
Vivian scampered to the door to bid Sue, Jack, and Aunts Hazel and Etta welcome. Boyd arrived with the kids in tow shortly after, as did Father Montgomery. His appearance was unexpected. Though he tried to politely bow out when he realized that Vivian had company, she yanked him inside, offered him some sweet tea, and introduced him all around.
The aunts’ reaction alone was worth it. They didn’t trust Catholics. Vivian could see the wheels turning beneath silvery gray up-dos. They were probably torn between grudging approval of Vivian’s interest in religion and suspicion that she’d corrupted the older gentleman in the Biblical sense.
The priest himself seemed more somber than normal, which gave Vivian pause.
Between the heart-attack-on-a-plate Southern fare and the Clemmens’ kids’ antics, Vivian didn’t notice the pointed stares of the padre until it came time to pass around the banana pudding. Junior had been flitting through the kitchen and waving, but she’d assumed he was just entertaining Scooter. Then he wound himself around the light fixture above her kitchen table and flashed a note reading: “Trouble coming.”
Great. So much for a normal day.
She shot him a helpless look, which prompted him to whisper something in Scooter’s ear.
And then all hell broke loose in Vivian Bedford’s home.
Scooter slid under the table. That in and of itself wasn’t unusual given his age and general tendency toward mischief. But Scooter didn’t squeak. Something else had.
When he emerged from under the table he bore a wicked grin and an agitated rodent.
“Mama, Aunt Vee Vee, look! I got mouse! I got a mouuuuuuuuuuuse!” he cried with delight.
Kay screamed, “Connor, put it down before it bites you!”
For once, Connor listened to his mother and plopped the mouse down onto the table. The dazed rodent sat frozen until Boyd’s failed attempt to whack it with a serving spoon. It somersaulted over the mashed potatoes and straight into Aunt Etta’s lap.
Aunt Etta screamed as she stood and knocked over her chair, which fell on Annabelle and knocked her to the floor. Boyd continued his pursuit with the serving spoon, joined by Jack, both men uttering colorful combinations of foul language that would make their wives blush later and would no doubt be repeated by at least one of Boyd’s children.
Aunt Hazel pushed her ample frame into the corner of the kitchen while Vivian ran and snatched up her broom.
“Jack, block the doorway,” Vivian yelled as she tried to herd the vermin toward him. It zigzagged in a serpentine pattern in response and they almost lost it under a loose board below her lower cabinets.
With agility borne of maternal instinct or, perhaps, from her college years running cross-country, Sue leapt and slammed a bowl over the mouse. Boyd and Jack scooped it up and went out back to release it while Connor moaned and whined to have it back.
The whole fiasco accomplished putting an early end to the party, which had apparently been Junior’s intent. Jack and Sue packed up the agitated aunts while Boyd gathered the kids. Kay offered to stay behind and clean-up, which left her with Vivian and the padre.
Junior opted to accompany Connor, which would probably make Boyd’s drive a little more serene—okay, a lot more serene. It also saved Junior from the exorcism Vivian had planned for the troublesome spirit once she got her hands on him again.
A dollop of gooey yellow pudding dropped onto her shoulder, apparently having fallen from the ceiling. Vivian sighed. Apparently, the exorcism would have to wait.
***
Vivian brewed some coffee. After she served her remaining guests, she settled on the love seat across from Kay and the priest, who shared the sofa. She took a moment to enjoy the confused and anxious look on Father Montgomery’s face.
“Don’t worry, Padre,” Vivian said. “You can speak freely in front of Kay. She knows all about my friends from the other side.”
“I’m glad you have a confidant,” Father Montgomery offered. “And someone else to look out for you. It seems you need it.”
Oh, boy. Here we go.
Both Kay and the padre spoke at once, leaving Vivian lost in the cacophony of warning voices. She made out the words “trouble,” “reaper,” and “Zeke,” but nothing more. Holding up a hand, she was about to ask them to speak in turn. They ignored her though, as they began speaking to one another.
“Wait, Robert Darkmore is a reaper?” Kay asked with a touch of disbelief.
“Ezekiel is back?” the padre asked simultaneously, his brow furrowed.
“Hello, I’m still in the room!” Vivian shouted over them. “What’s all the fuss about?”
“Vivian,” the padre began, keeping a low tone and level voice, “you’ve been summoned before the guardian council. Ezra sent me to tell you.”
“Why? And what does that mean” Vivian asked as anxiety pierced her gut like a thousand tiny knives. “And why isn’t the old coot here to tell me himself?”
“I don’t know the answer to your last question. As to the first…perhaps it has something to do with the company you’ve been keeping,” he answered.
“My company is my business. Ezra doesn’t own me, the guardians don’t own me, and part of my keeping company with Darkmore is to make certain of that,” she said as she hopped up off the couch.
“While I’m certain you believed you had good reasons for turning to Darkmore, I am very worried about the consequences,” the priest said. “He is not to be trusted. He—”
“He’s a reaper?” Kay repeated, realization dawning, “Oh my God, you mean he’s the kind who drags souls off to Hell?”
“Well, technically no,” Vivian said. “It’s more like a form of Purgatory.”
“But Vivian, what on Earth are you doing with some…some thing like that?” Kay asked, a look of horror blooming on her face.
“Look, I know it sounds bad, but he’s been protecting me.” Vivian paced around her living room as she tried to explain the inexplicable.
“From what?” Kay asked.
“From one of the so-called ‘good’ guardians. One of them doesn’t approve of my extracurricular activities and he’s decided to threaten me and my loved ones, like the padre here,” Vivian said, gesturing to Father Montgomery. “That’s why I turned to a reaper.”
“But, Vivian, what you told me about last year,” Kay said, gulping. “About that place you went, that terrible, dark place—he was the one who took you there, right?”
“I know, I know,” Vivian replied, t
rying to think of a way to explain. “He started out that way, and I’m still afraid of him sometimes, but after we sorted things out with Ezra’s cosmic debt, he’s been helping me.”
“Helping?”
“Yeah,” Vivian said. She stopped pacing and stood before her friend. Taking a deep breath, she started, “Remember the other night when I came by and helped you?”
“How can I forget it?” Kay asked. She looked a little embarrassed, but the priest reached over and squeezed her hand, then nodded to Vivian so she could continue.
“You know how you felt better after I took in that light from you?” Vivian asked.
“Yes,” Kay replied with a bit of caution.
“Well, that’s how I was able to make your burden lighter.”
“Come again?”
“I’m not sure exactly how it works,” Vivian said. “But guardians, reapers, and, well, me…we can channel spirit energy through light. The spirits collect and use life force energy when souls cross, but my talents are a little different.”
Kay blinked, apparently struggling to process the impossible.
“I can channel energy from the living through emotion. I take in burdens—suffering—from the living through light energy.”
“You mean you were able to feel what I was feeling? Know what I was thinking?” Kay asked, clearly mortified.
“I wasn’t trying to pry and I can’t read your mind,” Vivian reassured her friend. “But I can feel the pain from the burdens that I carry.”
“How do you manage?” Kay asked.
“That’s where Darkmore comes in. He stops by from time to time to relieve me of those burdens.”
Father Montgomery gave her a sharp look and asked, “You mean Darkmore has been taking them off your hands all this time?”
“Yes,” Vivian admitted. She felt as though she was sitting on the witness stand being grilled by a ruthless prosecutor. “You didn’t think I was keeping all of that stuff inside me, did you?”
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