Black Mountain Magic (Kentucky Haints #1)

by Megan Morgan

  He grinned and cupped one of her breasts through her shirt in his big hand, and jiggled it. “Yeah, they are.”

  They shared a slow, deep kiss. They were definitely going to have to do some frolicking, people driving past or not.

  When they broke apart, Deacon gazed at her. His eyes were brilliant blue in the sunlight.

  “You’re gonna stay here, aren’t you? I’m worried they won’t need you here much longer. Been a damn quiet winter, quieter than I’ve ever seen.”

  She rubbed his knee. “I’m staying here. There aren’t many Wolvites in the area, but there’s a few. I find evidence from time to time. That’s why I still go out there with that.” She nodded at her gun holster on the blanket. “Dr. Winston thinks they’ll come back. They’ll want to reclaim this place, or get revenge, or something. I’m not just researching, I’m also a guardian of sorts. If there’s evidence they’re back, something will have to be done.”

  “Hmm.” Deacon rubbed his scruffy chin. “And what will that be?”

  “I don’t know. Dr. Winston is talking to the agency, trying to figure out some peaceful way to resolve things if they do return.”

  “Do you think they’ll come back?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe they’re watching and waiting. There’s still a large population farther south. But we have so few answers.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re keeping an eye on things.” He cupped her cheek. “The guardian witch of Blue Ditch.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think I’m that special. I still haven’t found any answers. Or your sister…”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I heard from Jack.” He slipped his hand from her face. “He called me yesterday.”

  “Yeah?” She grabbed the duffel bag, her stomach growling. “How’s he doing?”

  “All right. He’s talking about coming back.”

  Jack went to South Carolina to stay with Deacon’s brother a few weeks after everything happened. He needed to get away and clear his head. No one blamed him. Deacon’s family fixed the damage to the house and put it up for sale. They got rid of Melanie’s things.

  “I’d love to see him again.” Lorena dug in the bag. “I think getting away from here for a while was a good idea, though. I can’t imagine what he went through.”

  “I can’t wait for him to come back so we can get up to no good again. Ain’t been the same with just Zeke. He talks too much and don’t drink enough.”

  She pulled out a foil package. “Oh man, is this your fried chicken? You’re earning lots of points today.”

  “What can I say? I know the way to my woman’s heart. Go on and stuff your face.”

  Finding a man who could cook with the finesse and gusto of a master chef was wonderful, since her culinary skills largely consisted of knowing which buttons to press on the microwave. She’d had so many home cooked meals over the past few months her body didn’t know how to react. Luckily, she did a lot of walking, or it would have been deposited on her hips by now.

  They ate lunch—fried chicken, collard greens, cornbread, and he’d even made cherry pie—and drank some beers, enjoying the sunshine and each other. She still marveled this had become her life, simple and happy, doing something she loved and learning about herself in the process. Also, having someone by her side every step of the way to support and care about her made a huge difference.

  After the food, they stretched out on the blanket, kissing and cuddling. She had a million things to type up and samples to ship to Dr. Winston, but it could wait.

  She gazed at Deacon. He lay half on top of her, his hand under her shirt. She curled her fingers against his chest, her thigh tucked between his, pressed against his growing arousal. This was the right moment.

  “I’ve been thinking about something.” She plucked at his shirt and shied away from his eyes. “I didn’t want to bring it up until I was sure, but now I think I am.”

  He withdrew his hand from her shirt and tilted his head back. “Sounds serious.”

  “It’s about the farm, about me living there.”

  She’d lived at the agency farmhouse all winter. The place was too big for her, but she’d made a few of the rooms cozy and lived out of them, when she wasn’t in the lab or in the kitchen brewing multiple pots of coffee. The agency didn’t care if she stayed there, but warned they might send field researchers in the summer. As long as it wasn’t Holden. He’d sent her an apology email a few days after he got back to Chicago, but that was the last time she heard from him.

  “I ought to do some work out there for you, now that it’s spring,” Deacon said. “Put in some flowers, maybe a little garden.”

  “Well, that’s the thing. I’m thinking about moving out of there.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s not like I use anything special in the lab. I can take my stuff with me. And, if I do need something, I can always go back. It’s just a huge place, and it’s out in the middle of nowhere. It’s not very convenient.”

  “You thinking of getting a place in town?”

  She looked back into his eyes, awkward. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment. Deacon could be awfully dense sometimes.

  But suddenly, his face lit up in realization.

  “Or you can live with me…is that what you’re getting at?”

  He’d earned a gold star.

  “I don’t want to invade your space. I know it’s not easy to make room for another person.”

  “We talked about this, didn’t we?”

  They had, when Lorena first returned to Blue Ditch in the fall, after spending some time in Chicago getting her affairs in order. Deacon offered from the start that she could live with him, but it was too soon. They needed to get to know each other and have a real relationship before they took such a big step.

  The whole relationship thing went amazingly well, and she felt connected to him in a way she’d never been connected to another person. She already knew him inside and out.

  “You’re always welcome to live with me,” he said. “Nothing would make me happier. You already stay the night so often it’s like you live there anyway.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  He kissed her. “If you’re ready, I’m ready. I want to wake up to you every morning.”

  “I won’t be girl-ing up your bachelor pad too much?”

  “Place needs a woman’s touch. And Clem would be happy to have access to your lap any time he wants.”

  “Gosh, well, if you think Clem would enjoy having me there.”

  “We both would.”

  They shared a deep kiss. When they broke apart, Deacon grinned hugely, like a little boy who got the best Christmas present ever. She looked forward to awesome meals and morning sex. And afternoon sex. And sex all night.

  “I’ve never lived with anyone,” she said. “You’re going to have to give me some time to adjust.”

  “I only ever lived with my Mama and Daddy, so we’ll be getting used to it together.”

  She stroked his face. “We have to make a pact right now not to argue over taking the garbage out, or doing chores. Or who has to get groceries.”

  He lifted a hand. “I swan, I’m not gonna argue. Long as you don’t mind my dirty drawers on the floor. I got a bad habit of that. But I’ll work on it.”

  “I’ll toss mine with them.” She pulled him back down. “I’ll start bringing my stuff over tonight.”

  He reached across the blanket and grabbed her phone. He squinted at the screen. “I got an hour before I gotta be back.” He looked down at her. “You wanna try some frolicking, or you too full of chicken now?”

  She gripped his shirt. “We’ve got too many clothes on for frolicking.”

  “Reckon we need to fix that.”

  They did.

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Megan Morgan is a paranormal, contemporary, and erotic romance author from Cleveland, Ohio. She also writes urban fantasy for fun. A mild-mannered bartender by day an
d purveyor of things that go bump in the night, she’s a member of the RWA and trying to turn writing into her day job, so she can be on the other side of the bar for a change. She lives on the often-wintry shores of Lake Erie with her spoiled cat and adult son, both of whom shed too much.

  Visit me:

  Website: www.meganmorganauthor.com

  Blog: www.meganmorganauthor.com/blog

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/morgan_romance

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/megan.morgan.author

  WHITE WITCH MAGIC

  KENTUCKY HAINTS #2

  Sneak peek:

  “Come on, boy.” Lorena coaxed Clem. “You can have fun with your cousins, too.”

  Clem wasn’t a particularly social dog and Deacon left him out because he never caused trouble. She’d been insisting Deacon needed to stop babying him, though. After all, he was a hero.

  The other dogs jumped around the interior of the fence, barking. Clem gazed at them with plaintive, wary eyes.

  Lorena sat down on the grass next to the fence and patted the ground beside her. “Come on, you attacked a Wolvite. You can’t say hi to other dogs?”

  The dogs gathered in front of her, poking their noses through the links in the fence. Lorena patted their snouts and let them lick her hand. Clem sat beside her, ears drooped.

  “I know it’s hard. But if Jack can hop back in, you can too.”

  They sat there for a while. The other dogs eventually ran off to play. Clem stretched out beside her and rested his head on her thigh.

  “Look how much fun they’re having.” Lorena sat back on her hands. “That could be you in there.”

  Clem sighed and huffed.

  A few minutes later, footsteps swished through the grass behind her. She looked around. Jack approached, a beer in hand, sunglasses on.

  “What’s going on down here? Are they in jail?”

  The dogs ran excitedly to the fence. Jack stuck his arm over and patted them as they jumped and barked.

  “I’m trying to convince Clem to get in and play,” she said. “You know he’s a wimp.”

  “He’s always been an outcast. You know Deacon found him in an old barn he was helping take down? No one knows how he got there or who he belonged to. He was about six months old at the time.”

  “The rescued stray. My favorite story.”

  Jack continued petting the dogs. “He’s always been the reluctant sort. Guess maybe he came from hard times.”

  She resisted the urge to point out that though Clem may have been reluctant, he acted, and acted boldly, when it was important.

  Jack stepped away from the fence and squatted beside her, holding his beer between his knees. He patted Clem’s back. “So you decided to stay in Blue Ditch.”

  “I always liked field work anyway. Specializing in one thing is easier. Although…” She wasn’t sure if she should bring up Wolvites yet. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll have work here. There isn’t much going on. I’m afraid Dr. Winston is going to find me superfluous.”

  “I reckon there aren’t many left around here.” He continued petting Clem. “Those that survived, they probably had the sense to get away.”

  “I’ve found a few signs, here and there. But I don’t know if there’s enough to be worth studying.”

  Jack looked toward the trees on the other side of the dog pen. “I don’t reckon they’ll ever be gone from here completely. They like it here. And knowing what we know now, I wouldn’t be surprised nohow if they got their backs up again eventually.”

  “Knowing what we know now, it has become a completely different field of study. Dr. Winston wants to know about their human forms. But I don’t know if right here, right now, I can help him with that.”

  Jack stopped petting Clem. “I reckon their human forms aren’t their natural forms. It ain’t what they are.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “When we kill ‘em, they stay animals. You ain’t never seen a dead Wolvite turn into a human, have you? The animal form must be their base form. They can just turn into humans when they want to. Sorta like a reverse werewolf.”

  Lorena pondered. “According to what Abernathy said, only witches and other humans that they allow can see their human forms. Maybe it’s just—some kind of magic that creates their Wolvite form.”

  “Why wouldn’t you see them as human when they die, then? You’re a witch.”

  He had a good point.

  “They’re clever.” Jack took a sip of his beer. “More than we thought, if they been playing this game as long as they have, tricking the world into thinking they’re just dumb animals.”

  “Not that clever. I mean, tricking the world into thinking that is what got so many of them killed.”

  “I suppose so. But it’s what almost got this whole town overrun, too.”

  They fell into silence. Lorena looked down at Clem. He was now asleep.

  “I’m glad you stayed,” Jack said. “You make Deacon happy. It’s good to see him happy.”

  She smiled. “He makes me happy too. That’s why I hope I don’t have to find a new job that takes me away from him.” She paused. “I’m glad you’re back. You make him happy too. He needs someone to make bets with. Who won, by the way?”

  Jack shook his head. “Him, of course. It’s okay, I’ll win my five bucks back on something soon enough.”

  She chuckled. Clem stretched with a soft whine. She patted his side.

  Jack looked down at his beer can. “By the way, you don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I’ve dealt with things. It’s gonna be much easier on me if y’all don’t act like nothing ever happened.” He looked up at her. “I mean that. Things ain’t gonna be normal for a while, but I’ll get there. Being in denial won’t do nothing for me.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m dancing around things. I just…we all want you to be okay here again. Your family has missed you.”

  “Yeah, I know. We’re all gonna have to get right together.”

  He rose from his squatting position. She tilted her head back and looked at him. He towered over her, not as tall as Deacon, but damn close.

  “Reckon we ought to go get some grub.” He looked toward the house. “Before that bunch vacuums it all up.” He glanced down at Clem. “Maybe it’s all just an act so he can stay out the pen and get some chicken legs. He could be a dang sight smarter than the rest of them.”

  Clem lifted his head sharply and looked at him, as though Jack had spilled his secrets. Lorena cracked up.

  The food was amazing, the perfect storm of southern cuisine prepared by skilled hands and meat-searing men. Anything home cooked still delighted her. How she hadn’t put on a hundred pounds yet was a marvel.

  Sitting in a lawn chair with a heaped up plate of food and a beer in her cup holder, Lorena watched as Deacon, Jack, and Zeke stood together, holding their own plates and yammering at each other between mouthfuls. Deacon was lit up in a way she hadn’t seen since Jack left.

  Stacy plunked down in a chair beside her. “Don’t eat the collards. She under seasoned them again.”

  Lorena pushed at the dab of them she’d wedged onto her plate. “I just took some to be polite.”

  “That was a beautiful move with the muffin earlier. If you’re lucky she won’t talk to you for weeks.”

  Hazel hovered around the food tables and made sure everyone filled up their plates. Lorena, ever paranoid, watched her hands to make sure she didn’t put anything in the food. She had hinted her concerns to Stacy, though never fully came out and said it. She didn’t want to tear Deacon’s family apart.

  Lorena got up to get another biscuit. Unfortunately, this brought her close to the table where Hazel stood. The old woman piled a plate with food. She eyed Lorena over her glasses as Lorena snatched up a biscuit.

  “You didn’t make Deacon his plate.” Hazel slapped potatoes on the heap. “You ought to make your man his plate first, before you go digging in. That’s what a
good woman does.”

  Lorena looked over at Deacon, who was shoveling food in his mouth. “He’s a big boy. I wouldn’t want to over-feed him.” She glanced at the plate in Hazel’s hands. Definitely for Clem—the man, not the dog.

  “You can certainly feed him muffins, though.” Hazel turned and fluttered off, and called for her husband.

  The old man came to her at once.

  Lorena shook her head and started to turn away, but something on the table caught her eye. She froze, and her heart skipped a beat.

  A little brown bottle, like an eyedropper bottle, sat between the bowl of biscuits and a platter of fried potatoes.

  Hazel was on the other side of the tent, fussing over her husband as he took his heaped-up plate. Lorena snatched the bottle. She tucked it in the pocket of her jeans and walked back to her chair.

  The boys got into a game of tackle football, Ray DJ’ed country tunes on his laptop, and a fire was built. They’d be partying long into the night.

  Deacon eventually sought her out, his shirt off and burly chest heaving, smeared with dirt and glistening with sweat. She admired the view as he bent down to kiss her forehead.

  “You seem to be having fun.” She smiled up at him. “That’s the roughhousing Lycan I know and love.”

  He tweaked her nipple and her cheeks flashed hot. She slapped his hand away. “There’s kids.”

  He grinned and took a swig from her bottle of beer. “They gotta learn someday.”

  Suddenly, all the dogs started barking and Lorena jumped. They’d let them out and they’d been sprawled around the fire. They leapt up and darted toward the bottom of the yard, except Clem. He stood next to Lorena’s chair and whined.

  “What the hell?” Deacon mopped his face with his hand and looked after them.

  Lorena stood up.

  “What’s going on?” Zeke hollered. “There a fox down there or something?”

  “Probably.” Deacon sighed. “Or a coyote. Damn fools.”

  Lorena squinted at the trees. The barking abruptly changed. A high, pained yelp went up, then fearful yowls. Lorena stiffened.