Deliverance from Sin: A Demonic Paranormal Romance (Sinners & Saints Book 5)

by Rosalie Stanton

  There was a long moment of quiet glaring. Beads of sweat dotted Lina’s forehead, and her pale cheeks were now a vibrant shade of pink. At last, she inhaled and straightened yet again, her chin pointed upward. “Don’t you get too cozy,” she said in her sickly sweet voice. “My lawyer is dissecting my late husband’s will, and we will be reclaiming this house. Mr. Jefferson was clearly not in his right mind—”

  “Come back when you have more than vague threats, okay?” Campbell started forward again. “Until then, you show up here again, and you’ll find out that Varina’s demons are the least of your problems.”

  He brushed past her without another word. By the time he reached the porch, her fancy-ass BMW was carrying her up the driveway. Campbell stood silent for a long beat. When the motor of her car could no longer be heard, he released a long breath, and let himself into the house.

  16

  Varina didn’t realize how attuned she’d become to Campbell’s signature until he left. The way the air dropped, combined with the subtle sound of the front door closing told her everything she needed to know.

  That didn’t explain why she’d immediately paused what she was doing and rushed across the hall. She reached the window just in time to see the mustard-colored Olds disappear under the blanket of live oaks.

  Varina had stood at the window for a long moment, her mind racing and her heart at a loss.

  He’d done this yesterday—taken off without notice, and he’d come back later with supplies. Domestic supplies, of which they were fully stocked.

  Yesterday, she hadn’t been bothered by his sudden disappearance. But that had been…well, before.

  Before what, though, she couldn’t say. A day couldn’t do much to change things—change took time. The change that mattered, anyway. The change that had the ability to impact one’s life. It didn’t happen overnight.

  Only she felt connected to him now. And connections were dangerous.

  He was dangerous.

  That realization was humbling, and sent Varina spiraling into a foul mood. She’d stomped back to the room across the hall and dived into boxes of her father’s belongings, which didn’t do anything to improve said mood. With precisely jack shit to go on, the task that had seemed simple on its face had become insurmountable. Her father could never do things the easy way. No clear-cut message in his will, no hint, no nothing.

  Estranged they had been, but Varina couldn’t fathom how her father wouldn’t recognize the depth of what he asked. Returning to Mount Zion alone had been on her list of never gonna happen. To do so without a tangible goal…

  Well, she supposed he’d won in the end. She was here, wasn’t she? Giving a man who didn’t deserve it his dying wish.

  Her mind, being the helpful asshole it was, called forward the dedication in her father’s book.

  To Jules. My light at midnight.

  That man—the one who had been devoted to his wife and child—was a different story. That was a man who had let her play on his typewriter, who had welcomed the mess in the study. A man who had chased her around the house as the tickle monster, made her laugh with hand puppets, rolled his voice to imitate the Cowardly Lion.

  That man she hadn’t seen since before her mother’s funeral. Since before Julia Jefferson became another victim claimed by leukemia. Because the second Julia began dying, Jenning might as well have gone with her.

  Varina let out a shaky breath, choking back tears, resentment.

  The other part of her just felt tired and defeated. The day had taken its toll—she had already dedicated hours to wading through memories she’d either repressed or forgotten altogether. Every box she opened was a waltz through time, and every creak in the house whispered a menacing reminder of what lay ahead.

  Of what the next minute could bring.

  And there were so many of them.

  Yet despite how lengthy the silence that surrounded her seemed, it couldn’t have been all that long before the telltale rumble of a car coming up the drive sounded in the distance. This time, Varina didn’t bother with the window. She had worked her way through the first room and had started on the second, digging through boxes and arranging she found anything of interest in various piles. Documents, mostly. Old report cards, school projects, and forgotten toys. Things her memory had suppressed, but nothing important enough to warrant a trip home. Altogether, the discoveries made an impressive obstacle course for the door, and she didn’t want to brave it just to see if Campbell had returned.

  She didn’t want to give him that much power over her. She didn’t want to care as much as she did.

  That was, until she heard another car, louder than the first. By the time she made it to the window across the hall, Campbell and Lina were engaged in a heated discussion, their voices carrying just enough for Varina to make out the gist of what was being said.

  Anger, old and familiar, flared at Lina’s familiar show. The play-act she put on when confronted with anyone who threatened to upset the narrative she’d crafted. This time, though, anger had a companion—one that stole Varina’s breath and sent such sharp aches through her body she wondered if she could move.

  According to Lina, Varina had broken her father’s heart.

  The possibility, the hint, that such could have been true made her sick, and she knew she couldn’t face Lina today. Even a kernel of doubt would unravel any advantage she had, and the woman would pounce.

  Thankfully—either by his words or the dangerous look on his face—Campbell convinced the woman to leave. Varina held her breath until Lina’s BMW was out of sight, then let herself relax.

  Until the door downstairs opened, and the familiar, welcome weight of his signature balanced the air again. Every nerve in her body kicked on, and she couldn’t fool herself into thinking her heart was pounding for any reason other than relief. Relief that he had returned, drowning the fear that he would not—irrational and unlikely as it was. And though it was risky revealing these things to him, Varina couldn’t stop herself from making her way downstairs.

  She did care. A lot. He had made her care.

  Varina found Campbell at the sink in the kitchen, nursing a glass of water, his back to her. A small box sat on the island—plain and unassuming, constructed of a bland, light-colored wood. It resembled the old cigar boxes in which her father had stored his favorite pens, only without any personality.

  Varina blinked at it. “What’s that?”

  Campbell didn’t turn around. “A box.”

  “Well, yes, I see that.”

  “You asked.”

  “That’s not from here.” Varina wrinkled her nose. Something about that box was…off. Her feet prompted her forward, and her hand itched to open it. “Where did you get it?”

  Campbell set his glass in the sink before turning to face her. “Have you felt it here today at all?”

  That threw her off. She looked up. “Huh?”

  “Legion. Have you had any trouble?”

  Varina frowned and shook her head. “No. I… Not since last night.” When Legion had decided to use her as the rope in a game of tug of war.

  He nodded and favored the box with a meaningful glance. “Good.”

  It wasn’t until he met her eyes again that she understood. The box had to do with Legion—with stopping Legion. And saying anymore was unwise. That things had been quiet today, nice as it was, didn’t mean anything. It could be anywhere.

  When Campbell seemed satisfied she understood, he relaxed and offered her a soft smile.

  Her heart began racing all over again. Her skin flushed and her head felt like it could pop off and float away.

  “I have something for you.” He reached into his pack pocket and pulled free a crinkled sheet of paper. “Printed this off while I was in town today.”

  “You went to town?”

  “Well, you told me my demon pals couldn’t come to the house.”

  Varina whipped her head up. “Your… Oh.” She looked to the box again. “Oh.”r />
  Well, that made sense. Anything that had the power to stand up to Legion had to be nonhuman. Even still, she couldn’t help but take a step away from it, anymore than she could help the instinctive uneasiness that took hold of her. Thankful she might be, but she would never warm up to the idea of accepting help from demons.

  “Thanks,” she said. “For not meeting them here.”

  Campbell inclined his head.

  “Though you motored out of here so fast I didn’t know if you planned on coming back.”

  He arched an eyebrow and wiggled the paper. “Did you want me to come back?”

  Varina shrugged, taking it. “You ever see My Fair Lady? It’s kinda like that. I’ve grown accustomed to your face.”

  “I didn’t peg you as being a theatre geek.”

  “And I didn’t peg you as being a pianist,” she replied.

  “Yeah, well. We all have our surprises.”

  “And you handled Lina.”

  Campbell snorted. “You heard?”

  “Yeah. Well, two vehicles approaching kinda threw me off.” She didn’t add that the only reason she’d heard Lina’s BMW was that she’d been listening for it—listening for him, rather. She’d been highly attuned to every sound in the hopes that he’d return soon. “Thanks,” she continued. “Twice in two days is well above my monthly bullshit quota.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Campbell nodded at the paper in her hand. “You gonna leave me dangling?”

  She smirked, unfolded it and looked down. Then blinked, read and reread. “You’re clean.”

  “Yeah.”

  Varina met his gaze. “You actually got me your last physical result.”

  “You asked.”

  She checked the date. “It wasn’t that long ago. Lucky.”

  “Nope. After the apocalypse—or the attempted apocalypse—I wanted to make sure I was in good health.”

  Varina let that sink in before looking up again. “It’s not something a lot of guys would do.”

  “Well, I’m not a lot of guys.”

  The words cut through her. He was right. If the past two days had taught her anything, it was that Campbell wasn’t like any of the guys she’d ever met. She doubted there was another man in the world like him. And while she couldn’t help the fear that bubbled up at the prospect, she didn’t want to run from it anymore.

  Whatever was going on between her and Campbell was worth exploring. He was standing with her in spite of his own fear—fear she doubted he was ready to confront. Yet he hadn’t given it control. If he had, he wouldn’t be here now.

  And perhaps she was helping him in turn. Last night, after he’d gotten into bed with her, the screams hadn’t come. That was what she could give him.

  That was what Varina wanted to give him.

  “Thank you,” she said at last, folding the paper in half. “I…honestly, I didn’t expect that.”

  “You asked for it,” he repeated. “I told you I’d get it.”

  “Yeah, well, I ask for a lot of things I never get.” She shrugged. “And I told you no more sex, so you weren’t exactly incentivized.”

  Campbell stepped forward, his expression darkening. “I was plenty incentivized, Varina. You…you’ve trusted me with a lot since I got here. I don’t deserve it.”

  “No, I haven’t. I watched you like a hawk. If I trust you now, it’s because you do deserve it.”

  “And do you?” He closed another step between them. “Trust me?”

  Varina swallowed, refusing to look away. “I’m getting there. Trust doesn’t come easy for me.”

  “Me either. But I trust you.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I think I do. I think I know you better than anyone ever has.”

  That was true, but it didn’t mean much.

  “I also…” Campbell rubbed at the back of his neck. “I want you to know I appreciate everything you told me yesterday.”

  “What did I tell you yesterday?”

  “What happened to you. Everything with Lina, and—”

  Varina snorted at that. “I didn’t tell you everything. Believe me, you got the Cliff Notes version.”

  “Even still, I know that was hard.”

  “It was necessary. You deserve to know what I’m doing here, if only so you can remind me when I give up.”

  Campbell tilted his head. “Yeah, but here’s the thing. You’re not the kind of person who gives up. You might’ve not been on the best terms with your father, but you still loved him. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

  She blinked hard, fighting back the well of emotion that had made itself at home in her chest last night. She’d fallen asleep reading her father’s book, unable to put it down. Standing in his home had a way of bringing the things better kept buried out into the open. Things she had made a career of not thinking about were now always center stage in her head.

  “My father was a weak man who let a woman bully his own daughter out of the home she’d grown up in,” Varina said, the words harsher than she’d intended. A hot rush seized her chest and pushed. “He stood by while a demon took my body, and did nothing when that bitch threw me out. I was a scared kid. I’d been brutalized and nearly killed. I found out when I was a goddamn child that death is an escape, and even then…” She broke off, looking away. “Even then, Legion didn’t try to kill me. I tried to kill me, and he wouldn’t even allow that.”

  “How did you get rid of it the first time?”

  “Normal means,” Varina replied. “Priest came over, said some holy words. Booted the demon. I thought things would go back to normal after that. Turns out that’s a crock. Nothing was normal again.”

  Campbell’s eyes softened. “But you’re still here. You came back.”

  “What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.”

  “I don’t think that’s it at all.” He inched forward again. “Hate’s a hard enough cross to bear. When you hate someone you love, I’m guessing it’s even worse. Your father might have hurt you, but if you’d decided to never have anything to do with him again, you never would have come here.”

  Varina didn’t know what was worse—the fact that he knew that, or the fact that he had called her on it. Her skin felt tight, energy pressing against her insides as her chest constricted. The burn of old pain began to simmer. Pain she’d thought she’d put behind her, or at least cried out last night. She shook her head and stepped back, pressure pounding down on her eyes, cheeks and throat.

  “I don’t want to talk about my father,” she said.

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  Okay. Because fuck forbid Campbell ever push her on anything. He was so goddamn agreeable.

  “Okay?” she repeated before she could help herself. “Is that it?”

  The genuine surprise that flooded his features only fanned her frustration. “Yeah, I told you…you don’t owe me your story.”

  “But you already have it,” Varina replied. “All the parts that matter, you have. And I don’t have yours.”

  “Mine?” He tensed and took a step back. “What about mine?”

  “I just think if you’re going to play therapist, you might as well start with yourself.” She crossed her arms. “Because all I’ve done is talk. And talk. And talk. And you’re the one who showed up here and made himself at home.”

  Campbell’s eyes narrowed. “You just said you wanted me here.”

  “I said I’d grown accustomed to your face. Not exactly the same thing.”

  “You really wanna fight me on semantics?”

  “No,” she snapped, the pressure in her chest growing, stretching through her limbs and climbing into her head. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognized she was overreacting, but she couldn’t help herself. “I don’t wanna fight at all. I just don’t need you in my head.”

  “I didn’t ask to come in.”

  “Oh, but you’ve made yourse
lf nice and comfy.”

  He stared at her a moment, then shook his head. “What happened?” he asked. “Are you seriously pissed that I accused you of loving your father?”

  “I’m pissed that you can say something like that and claim you know me while I don’t know you at all.” Varina pushed forward, somewhat gratified when he stepped back. “You haven’t told me shit about you. What brought you here—?”

  “I told you I was possessed, just like you. I told you—”

  “You managed to give me the bare minimum and not give me anything personal.” She inhaled. “If you trust me so much, then you should trust me with what happened. I need to know in case something like yesterday happens again.”

  “Like yesterday.” It was neither a statement nor a question—just an echo.

  Varina nodded. “Yeah. Like when you lost your shit yesterday when Legion borrowed your face.”

  At that, Campbell all but turned to stone.

  “Even Legion knows what happened to you. He’ll use that against you. He’ll use it to fuck with your mind, and I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what to look for.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help,” he replied coldly. “I’m here to help you, remember?”

  “Are you? I’m taking a lot on faith here.”

  He seemed to close off even more, a spark flashing behind his eyes. Then he took a step forward. “You asked me,” he said. “You asked me to stay.”

  “I—”

  “Last night. After Legion attacked you, you asked me to stay. And I stayed. Is that what has you mad? That you needed someone?”

  “I don’t need shit.”

  He shrugged. “You seemed to last night. I think that’s what you’re pissed about. At the end of the day, you needed someone. You needed me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “You asked me, Varina. I just did what you asked.”

  “Aren’t you a fucking prince?”

  An odd light shone in his eyes. Campbell took another step forward. “Is that what you want me to be? Your prince? You want to play damsel?”

  The room seemed to flash red. Every muscle in her body tightened, her fists clenching and her stomach turning in knots. Before she knew what she was doing, Varina had shoved Campbell back with enough power to make the counter rattle.