Demons in the Bedroom (Paranormal House Flippers Book 1)
Page 16
“Please piece it together before I lose my mind,” Byron said, pressing the bridge of his nose.
“Unless—Byron haunts more than one house,” Graham said. “The lady I talked to on the phone about Deveraux’s death said the house is haunted.”
“Right! Three pieces, three houses…three hauntings?”
“Let me try and get her on the phone and ask what the ghost looks like.”
“Good idea! Yes! We’re really getting somewhere.”
“That’s why you take detailed notes,” Graham said. “It’s just like working with complicated legislation. I read everything, as much as I can, I don’t just let my staff do it. Hang on.” He got out his cell phone.
I was ready to tear city boy demon limb from limb, I swear. Being all smart and useful. But he was basically just a human. I had no idea what was going on, except that clearly Helena had stumbled on something so crucial that even random old lady seers were telling us to go check on it.
“Well…” Helena turned to us now, her expression endearingly tentative, brushing her hair back off her neck. She hadn’t forgotten that kiss after all. “If it turns out we need to work on this place in Louisiana, I still need to get this house sold first. You guys came all the way out here, I don’t know if you have anything else going on, but…I know you can knock it out with me. I can pay you…not much, but…”
“He can’t help you?” Jake said, just to be cheeky, jabbing a thumb at the door where Graham had just stepped out.
“No, he has to head back to work, and c’mon, he doesn’t know how to work on houses! He’s so obviously a city boy.”
“So I guess you haven’t lost all your senses,” I said.
“I most certainly haven’t!” Helena scrunched her nose at him. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking it.”
“We’ll think what we want,” Jake said. “Baroness…” The way he said it, and the way Helena’s skin turned a familiar shade of rose, no, she definitely hadn’t forgotten our date.
“So he’s leaving?” I asked.
“You two are very subtle,” Byron said, but we ignored him. In the end, he was a ghost, and maybe he could haunt the next house. I could hear Graham on the phone sounding encouraged by what he heard. Then he poked in for a moment and gave a thumbs up.
“Really? Byron! You had more than one haunt all along?”
Eventually we were going to shake the ghost off. Right now, if he kept Graham distracted, that was good enough for me.
“We’ll help,” I said. “For a little cream off the top.”
“Ten percent of the profit,” she said.
“Ten percent of the total sale price,” Jake said. “Because you paid too much, and we’re going to work our asses off.”
“Ten percent of the total but you leave that wallpaper alone.” She held out her hand and we both shook on it.
But I was determined to get more than a handshake out of her.
“Downstairs is mostly done. Upstairs, not so much,” Helena said, giving us the tour of the rest of the house. “Luckily, there isn’t as much to do here. The room that needs the most work is the room where you fixed the floor. It still has wall damage and the floors don’t match and the window is cracked. I would also love to finish the attic. I don’t know if there’s enough time or money.” She paused. “I mean…there isn’t. But it’s too bad. I need to do the bathroom tiles and then the garden.”
“Wait wait wait. You’re going to leave the master bedroom green?” Jake asked.
“You don’t like it?” Helena looked almost offended. “It’s a beautiful green. I would love a bedroom that color…” She clutched her hands together in an unconsciously girlish gesture. Sometimes she couldn’t hide that inner princess.
I knew Jake hated that green to the core of his being, but he actually didn’t press the matter. Because what my brother did like was a princess.
“I could do the tile,” he said.
“But I love doing tile!”
“Yeah, but…it’s tedious. And you said you were going to try and translate some of that book. That seems like no easy job. I can’t even remember what language that guy said it was in.”
“Cyprium. It has some relation to Latin, and I’m pretty good with Latin.”
“Must not be that good or you would’ve known about the box already.”
She sighed. “Okay. Do the tile. But you’d better do a really, really good job.”
“If I don’t,” Jake grinned, “you have permission to spank me.”
“I’ll shove a hammer up your ass, how’s that?” She turned back to the stairs. “Well, if that’s settled, you can get going on the bathroom and I just have a few more jobs to do downstairs. I’ll make coffee in the morning. Did you bring air beds?”
“We’ll just wolf out and sleep on the rug here,” I said.
“Oh.” She blinked. “How convenient that must be. Okay. I’m going to get to bed, then.”
Was it possible that she could be the perfect girl for Jake and the perfect girl for me at the same time when we didn’t even have the same taste in women? When we only knew her at auctions, I thought she was my kind of girl. A girl who could go toe to toe with us bidding and then tear down and rebuild things with the best of us, tough as the nails in her toolbox. I respected her, and…man, did I want to show her that respect in a raw physical form, the way only wolves could. She needed a little animal in her life, I’d bet.
But she definitely had another side too, one that was more feminine and betrayed some fragility, that would stir Jake’s fierce loyalty to protect his chosen mate. Of course, neither of them wanted to show that side to the other, I could tell.
I really thought we could both love her.
In the morning, we sucked down our coffee—and she definitely made better coffee than we ever did—and got right to work. She already had the bathroom stripped and ready to go, and the tiles she chose were fairly large, so it would be quick work. I cranked up the radio although the reception on the station was a little staticky. The blaring guitars and screaming rock vocals propelled us forward. I wasn’t sure Helena appreciated it as much, but at least she didn’t tell us to turn the music down.
It also provided good cover for talk. We usually didn’t talk much, but today I was restless.
I think Jake was too.
“So how about that fucking Graham guy, huh?” he said as we were setting out the tile for a dry run.
“We turn our backs and the incubi move in.”
“Figures.”
“Graham seems to think Byron is his competition.”
“A ghost!?” Jake made chalk measurements, his precision in the work a contrast to his irritable tone. He practically spit out the word. “Remember that time we had a cute lady ghost? She was still a ghost.”
“Byron is definitely sort of…substantial, as ghosts go.”
Jake snorted a laugh. “No kidding. Get some pants that fit.”
“I mean, ghosts are usually a little more ‘woo-ooo…’ Spacey. He seems dead focused for a ghost.”
“Dead focused.” Jake was still laughing.
“Well, what if…he’s actually still alive or something?”
“How?”
“Magic. Anything’s possible. He seems too focused for a ghost to not have some end game.”
“Maybe the incubi will just fight each other.”
“Then we move in?” I was mixing the mortar, and it was pretty well ready to go now. I lifted it aside to stand and stopped just behind Jake’s crouching form.
“Hm…” Jake went quiet as he finished the chalk marks. He finally stood up and met me eye to eye. “What’s that look for?” He tucked the chalk behind his ear, where it immediately left a little white mark across his hair.
“I don’t want to fight you for her,” I said. “I feel like it would be a bad idea. I keep thinking…” I sighed and scratched my hair. “Well, we’ve never successfully done anything apart.” I was trying to gauge his reaction.<
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This was a pretty intense thing to suggest. And Jake had never indicated he wanted something like this before. But I knew him so well, and it was true. Our girlfriends didn’t usually last because we spent too much time working together on houses, and the girls would get jealous. I would bet anything that it had crossed Jake’s mind too.
“You’re thinking about her brother, is that it?” Jake narrowed his eyes, chuckling a little. “The bond marriage. She’s given no indication she wants that. It was a huge scandal for him, I’m sure.”
“I didn’t think I wanted it either,” I said. “But then I started to think about it, and…you know, if it was Helena…she would be a partner who would never come between us.”
“I don’t know if that’s the phrase you really wanted to use right now…” Jake stroked his chin. “I mean…the idea has logic. Dad would probably like the idea. It would keep the business secure. And she’s a hell of a prize.”
“I don’t think we should tell her this, though,” I said. “Let her come to the conclusion herself. We just don’t fight each other for her hand.”
“I get it. Pincer attack.” Jake clapped his hands. “Before she knows it, she’s a Sullivan.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Helena
We’d all been working so hard that I’d barely been sleeping. I thought it might be awkward to have the Sullivan brothers around, but they were working just as hard. At night we usually had dinner and a beer and exchanged progress reports.
And flirted a little, sure.
Before I knew it, we were putting on the finishing touches. I was calling my real estate agent. Magical real estate agents worked large areas.
Jake and Jasper went on a final supply run and came back with steaks and expensive German beer.
“Ohhh, how do you know what I like?”
“When Baroness von Habsburg sneered at the bowling alley beer selection, I made a guess,” Jake said. “Celebrate.” He twisted off the cap with the corner of his flannel shirt somehow although it wasn’t a twist off kind.
“Time to fire up the range,” Jasper said, striking a match.
Ooh. They knew how to work a wood-fired range without magic. Not bad.
Pretty soon we were sitting down with fat juicy steaks pan-fried in butter and beer and…they didn’t buy any vegetables. But this was a celebration, so who needed filler?
“I’m a little annoyed I can’t take full credit, but this is my favorite house I’ve done,” I said.
“The design is all yours, for better or worse,” Jake said.
“We’re just the muscle,” Jasper said. “That’s all you needed, isn’t it?”
“Believe me, I wish I had those muscles myself.”
“I’m glad you don’t,” Jake said, flashing me a smile. “Who needs them when you can twist us around your finger?”
“Pssh. Hardly.”
“You’re amazing, Helena,” Jasper said, “but we make an even better team, if I do say so myself.”
“Especially if you let me tear down a wall next time,” Jake said.
I glowered at Jake and then cast hopeful eyes Jasper’s way, before slicing off another piece of steak. “Does this mean you’ll be my crew for Greenwood Manor?”
“I think you already know we have to see how this pans out,” Jake said. “And I looked it up. That house is even bigger than this one. You’re going to need us.”
“You waste no opportunity to remind me how much poor widdle me needs your big strong wolfman body, do you?” I rolled my eyes. “Someday I might shove a hammer up your ass just because.”
“Maybe I’ll enjoy it if you’re doing it,” Jake said. “Depending on which end.”
Jasper laughed.
I swear, they were both getting awfully flirty with me lately. Right in front of each other. They weren’t competitive and jealous like Graham at all.
They must know about Harris. They must. But they’ve never mentioned it. Do they think I’d want a bond marriage? Or that I’m even…bond-curious?
But we did make a really good team.
I didn’t dare say anything. We could figure it all out at Greenwood Manor.
I’m not sure what I liked more, houses or their gardens. Every witch loves a garden, I think. It’s just in our blood. As annoyed as I was at the wizarding councils for urging girls to stick to healing and making salves, love spells and beauty concoctions instead of badass fighting arts, that didn’t mean I didn’t love a day spent in the herb garden now and then.
I hit one of the few plant nurseries that was still open in October and got some evergreen shrubs to “spruce” up the winter garden. (That was my favorite pun in the world. Every time I had to do landscaping in the winter I used it on the people at the nursery. I don’t know if they enjoyed it as much as I did.) This was my last job and the house would be done.
“It’s nice to see you making a garden with your own hands…” Byron’s voice brushed my ears like the first warm breeze of spring.
I was in the middle of pulling dead weeds and pruning the dead stems off the perennial flowers. “I haven’t seen much of you,” I said.
“You need your strength, angel. I don’t dare take it from you. And I don’t think the wolves would enjoy my company during dinner. But you’ve missed me.” He said it with confidence. A man like this didn’t need to ask if he was missed.
“A little, sure.” I twirled a withered rose between my fingers, before remembering that this wasn’t the best moment to be flirtatious. I was wearing ripped black jeans and a gray shirt that was technically just thermal underwear, plus grubby gardening gloves. “I’m working on reading the Arcana, but it’s slow going.”
“I’m not surprised you aren’t fluent in a dead language,” Byron said.
“Do you know Cyprium, Byron?”
“Yes, but I can’t tell you what it says.”
“Can you teach me the language? So I can figure it out?”
“Yes. I can teach you. Thank you for asking.”
“Do I detect sarcasm? I haven’t even had time to translate ancient tomes if I wanted to.”
“I’m sorry. I’m frustrated. There is so little I can tell you and so much I want to tell you. Now that the house is done, you need to read the Arcana. I beg you.”
“Let’s have a lesson now, then.” I dashed into the house and brought out one of the books, ARCANA SINISTRAL. I opened the book and was immediately greeted with all those tiny little Medieval words. “Maybe this isn’t even Middle English, but Old English, huh?”
“It’s Cyprium,” he said.
“I mean, Old English would be the influence. Gaaah.”
“A lot of it isn’t so different. ‘Strengest.’ What do you think that would be?”
“Strongest?”
“Right. It’s the same in Cyprium as it is in Old English as it—nearly—is in English today. Once you get the rhythm you can figure some of it out.”
We worked on it for a little while. Very slow going. There was some talk of a battle where ‘aengels’ and ‘aether vika’ came from Etherium and attacked the people of ‘Sinistra’. Vika was a demon word for witch, and maybe it was related to ‘wicca’ but not close enough that I realized it without help. Every sentence was full of those.
I felt like I wasn’t getting anything but some standard battle talk. Somebody attacked somebody else and then those people went there, and then a dragon came, blah blah.
“I’m sorry, Byron, I know—I know I need to work on it. It’s pretty intimidating. I could ask my brother, but then his whole family would be involved, and I want to do this without him.”
“Don’t apologize,” Byron said. “I want you to get to Greenwood Manor.”
“To get the next piece of the box? Yeah. But it must be hard for you to say goodbye to this place. I feel like that myself and I’ve only been here for several weeks.”
“It is,” he said, looking toward the house, all sorts of unknown thoughts clouding his face. “But it must
be done. And I’m ready. I can’t wait to see what you do with Deveraux’s house. It’s quite a place.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah, you’re going to want to keep the flannel twins in your good graces.” He smiled. “But try to kick them out of the house some night so we can fly again. Hm?” He kissed my forehead.
My skin yearned for more. I needed to know his mysteries. I wanted to feel him—alive and warm, right here and now.
I would have to be content with a shadow.
I turned the pages until I found the pictures with the box, and the men killing the half-angel, half-demon. I looked closer. I had been focused on the box before. But now I saw that one of the men was sewing the lips of the demon/angel shut.
“Byron…” My brows furrowed. “This is silly, but…this isn’t you, is it?”
“I couldn’t tell you if it was.”
“But…but…you wouldn’t have been alive in the 11th century anyway. You’re just an incubus. Right?”
“Let’s have another reading lesson tomorrow.” He lifted my chin. His eyes were yearning. His lips fluttered across mine, half-solid, before he melted away.
Chapter Thirty
Helena
I heard a car door slam outside. “That must be the agent!” I sang out, giving the pillow one last puff before trotting down the stairs to meet Hester. She’d found a buyer for all the houses I flipped, even the weird ones, but I thought she’d love this one.
I opened the door and next to my truck, the Sullivan’s truck, and the rented hitched-on trailer from which I’d be unloading some staging furniture was—an old Rolls-Royce.
Oh—fuuuck. And here I was standing here like a lamb to the slaughter.
The door opened. The chauffeur stepped out. He opened the door for my mother, and if that wasn’t bad enough, a door on the other side opened too. Mother brought backup. My cousin Piers, who was on the Ethereal warlock council.
“Helena. Nice to see you.” Mother’s eyes could slay from ten feet away. And this had to be the day it was warmer than usual, and I was a sweaty disaster in a messy ponytail and a stained tee I’d owned since high school.