Phoenix Everlasting_A Paranormal Romance Series Page 3

  “Did they all have their memories taken?”

  “No.” He cracked his neck, and I winced at the sound. “Only Ross. The others should know.”

  “Which means they are either dead, unable to find us, or they don’t want to be here at all.”

  He looked at me side-eyed. “If it’s the last, they’re going to change their minds fast. I can assure you.” I didn’t want to imagine what Chase would do to bring the guys to the fight. “In the meantime, you need to get to St. Louis. I’m more and more convinced you have to go where you restarted. Figure it out.”

  “I can’t up and go to St. Louis. I have three kids.”

  “That’s right, and you’re doing this for them. They need us, kiddo. And more importantly, they need their mother to know what the hell is going on. Start there.”

  I hated it when other people made a point, especially when all I wanted to do was stick my head under the spray of my shower and let this whole miserable night wash away.

  ***

  I’d no sooner bathed and poured some tea than I heard the knocking on the door outside. I really wanted to be in bed, but it was impossible. The night had been too stressful to simply turn off, and unfortunately my parents, who had been on a date together earlier in the evening, were enjoying themselves in the guestroom. I didn’t care how old I got. I never wanted to hear my parents having sex. Staying downstairs seemed the best course of action until they went to sleep.

  I was really glad the kids weren’t home.

  At the front door, I peeked out the window. Malcolm stood on my porch. I leaned my head against the door. What was he doing here?

  Unwilling to let him in, I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.

  He raised a dark eyebrow. “I can’t come in? I’ve been texting for an hour.”

  “It’s upstairs. You don’t want to know what’s happening up there. It’s better for us to stay outside.”

  I sat on my step, holding my warm tea in my hand. The night was warm, and now that I wasn’t fighting a demon, I could take a deep breath. “You need something?”

  “Aren’t your kids out tonight?”

  “They’re with their dad.” No one deflected as much as Malcolm. “I’m having more of a parents-having-sex problem. Did you need something?”

  He sunk down next to me. “Damn, I didn’t need that image.”

  “Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

  Next to me, he snorted. “I didn’t technically ask.”

  We were great at this, the banter of two people who could never say what they wanted to each other. “Semantics.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m not the one who was possessed. How is Mystia?”

  He steepled his hands. I’d recently learned, through watching a YouTube video with Grayson, that doing so constituted a power position. Even before I’d learned about body language, I could have predicted that Malcolm and I were about to fight. He was too prickly right then, and I didn’t feel like paying attention to the caution signs he gave out. He’d come here.

  “She’s fine. Tired. I made sure she was okay, and I left. I’m asking if you’re okay because you ripped the demon out of her 1-2-3, and that had to have taken a lot of power, energy, and strength.”

  I shrugged. “You might be surprised. The demon wasn’t holding on tight. I don’t think he was supposed to possess her, not really. He wanted to deliver his message. I yanked a couple of times.” I blew a raspberry with my mouth. “Out went the bad guy.”

  “Don’t make light of it. I know how hard it is to do.”

  “No.” I rubbed my eyes. Did I dare risk my parents not being done? “It’s not the same as what you did for Gray. That thing had been in there for months. This one had had seconds. There was no cellular infusion. Yes, I really am fine. Thank you for asking.”

  “I’ve never taken her out before. It was our first date.”

  “You are entitled to do whatever you want with your personal life.” Even thinking about Mystia raised my blood pressure. How many times in one night did I have to pull off kind and generous of spirit? I wasn’t anyone’s Mother Theresa. I hated that he took anyone else out, even though I knew it was terribly unfair.

  He groaned. “Really? You’re going to pull that shit with me? I took her out to piss you off, and I could see it worked. Stupid? Yes. Childish? Yes. Somewhat satisfying just the same? Fuck, yes.”

  “If you know it bothered me, why come here and rehash this? Why do you have to hear me say it?”

  Malcolm stood. “Because I love you, and you yanked the demon from her body and then got up like nothing happened.”

  “I think you might be trying to kill me. I mean it.” I got to my feet and shoved him an inch down my porch. “You think I can stand thinking about you with other women? I married someone else. I get how completely hypocritical the whole thing is. My excuse? I didn’t remember you. I had three kids. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat, for the babies it gave me and the time I’ve had with Levi, which is precious. How does it make you feel to hear me say that? Not good, I bet. Meantime you remembered me. Did you stay a virgin? Not touch female flesh as you longed for me? I doubt it. I don’t like thinking of you with any women any more than you like imagining me with Levi.”

  He shook his head. “Woman, I am trying to survive you. Not being with you is like a constant ache in my gut. I am sorry for tonight.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” I closed my eyes. “Don’t ever be sorry with me.” Do you believe in the moon? I do. Do you believe in me? Our mantra from the other life passed through my thoughts like a burn in my brain. He wasn’t the only one in constant pain.

  His mouth met mine, and my lids opened. I was shocked by the affection, although maybe I shouldn’t have been. We were always hot and angry and then hot and not angry. There was no one else I ever liked fighting with as much as Malcolm.

  I should fight him. Instead, I closed my eyes and returned his kiss. He moaned when I did, pulling me closer to him. The porch made for an awkward make out place.

  He pulled away slightly, his warm breath on my cheek when he spoke. “Let me come in. I don’t care about your parents. Wait, that sounds wrong. I don’t care what they’re doing.”

  “What about the happiness problem? Michael said I couldn’t let you be happy. It would make you weak.”

  “Fuck.” Malcolm kissed my nose. “Michael told you whatever you needed to hear to do what he wanted. I can be strong and be happy. I’ll prove it. Starting right now. This isn’t Angel and Buffy, okay? I’m not going to suddenly lose my soul and you’ll have to kill me.”

  I couldn’t help my laugh. It was wrong for such a quiet moment, and yet laughter took me over. “You’ve watched Buffy?”

  “Shit, Kendall.” He rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t seen Buffy? Just say yes. It’s so easy.”

  The way he said it, I almost could believe it could be. “You’re going to get to speak to Michael on Sunday. We’ll ask him. If he says I won’t be the reason you get weak and die, then we can continue this conversation. The other factor … my kids.” And Levi. But I didn’t want to bring up the subject of my ex-husband. Moving on meant leaving Levi behind. I didn’t know if I could do it.

  “I don’t see what the problem is there, either. I don’t want to get in the way of you and your kids. I mean, would I prefer you didn’t have to split your time? Sure. This is reality; we’ll figure it out.”

  “Kendall.” My mom called from the window upstairs, and Malcolm and I split apart as though we were kids caught getting frisky. “Sorry to interrupt, dear. It’s Levi. He’s been trying to get in touch with you.”

  Malcolm muttered. “Of course he is.”

  “Don’t be bitter. He has my kids.” I called to my mom. “What’s wrong?” So help me, if some demon had gotten through my barriers and hurt Gray again …

  “He says Dexter needs to speak to Malcolm.”

  “What?” Malcolm and I spoke at the same time. Utter ho
rror crossed Malcolm’s face before he covered it. Yeah … he was so not okay with my kids.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I held out my hand to Malcolm. “Give me your phone.” He did as I asked, and I quickly dialed. Levi answered on the first ring.

  “Kendall?”

  I took a deep breath. “Is Dex okay?”

  “Why aren’t you picking up your phone?”

  I forced myself to count to five. I’d asked him if our son was okay, and that was what he’d come back with? “Is Dex okay?” I spoke the words slowly so he could hear my intent in each one. He’d better answer me.

  “Yes. Shit. Sorry. He’s had a vision and insists he needs to speak to Malcolm right now.”

  So my mother hadn’t gotten the message wrong. This was a first for Dexter. He’d never reached out to anyone outside of the family post-vision. “I left the phone upstairs. I’m sorry if it worried you. Put Dex on; I’ll hand the phone to Malcolm.”

  “He is there, then. At midnight?”

  “Hell, Levi. Give the phone to Dex.” I passed the device to Malcolm. “Dexter needs to speak to you.”

  Malcolm didn’t move for a long second before he pressed the phone to his ear. “This is Malcolm.”

  I could have laughed. He was addressing a nine-year-old like he was about to do some kind of business deal. I waited to hear his end of the conversation. Dex’s visions were unclear most of the time. At this point in his life, they seemed to have no point at all except to get him used to having them. Hopefully, as he got older, they’d become more meaningful or, at the very least, he’d be able to express to someone what he saw in a way that we could use the insight.

  I’d long since given up the idea we could make them go away all together. They so overtook him sometimes we’d had no choice but to pull him out of public school and homeschool him to protect him from exposure Somehow, he remained a pretty happy, well-adjusted kid. He never ceased to amaze me.

  “Right. I’m sorry; that must be scary.” Malcolm’s gaze held my own. “Yes, I’m here with your Mommy now.” He nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Thank you for telling me. I promise not to leave her. Good job with this, buddy.” The longer Malcolm spoke to him, the more at ease he seemed to be on his end. I wasn’t surprised. Dexter had a tendency to win over whomever he conversed with until the person thought he was their best friend. “We’ve got it. Go back to sleep.”

  He stuck the phone in his pocket, and I waited for him to tell me what my son had told him. “Is it a secret? What did Dex need?”

  “We’re about to be assaulted by ghosts. Mean ones. Cascade shit. If I leave you, you might die.”

  The Cascade—a direct result of the ongoing surge in paranormal violence, spawned by our return to the living—never ceased to be a problem.

  “My son saw me die?” I raised my voice to cover my horror. Poor Dexter. No child should have to deal with this. It was too much for anyone. Tears spilled down my face, and I wiped them away.

  Malcolm took my hand. “Your son saw you live. He saw me get us through tonight. He wanted to make sure I didn’t let you drive me away in frustration.”

  “Did he say frustration?” How mature had my nine-year-old gotten?

  The first ghost flew at us, and even though I knew it should be impossible, if the creature hit us, we’d actually feel the assault. I hated the Cascade with a passion.

  Chapter Three

  The ghosts stormed us, eyes wide, some of them screaming in foreign languages. I raised my arm at the same time Malcolm did, and we started popping them out of existence. My mother called from upstairs; a powerful practitioner herself, she must have been able to feel the assault. A few seconds later, she joined us in the fight. My father guarded our backs from the doorway. I lost track of how many ghosts we got rid of. Could it be as many as one hundred? Two hundred?

  Finally, the onslaught ended. My arm ached, and my power waned, replaced by the drunken fuzziness of a big fight. The aftermath buzzed through my body.

  “What was that?” My mom’s voice croaked, and my father wrapped her in his arms, leading her into the house.

  “That is what our daughter is dealing with.” The screen door closed behind them with a slight bang.

  I rocked on my feet. “Did you see the one who must have died naked? Why don’t we see more of that? Naked ghosts. How terrible. Slip and fall in the shower and stay nude for eternity?”

  Malcolm pointed at me. “You’re high right now, aren’t you?”

  “Totally am.” He swayed slightly. “So are you.”

  “Yep.” He took my hand without asking and led me into the house. As far as I could remember, Malcolm had been inside my home exactly twice. Once when he’d stormed in and we’d ended up making out against the wall, and the second time when he exorcised a demon from my son. Why did it feel so normal to have him around this part of my life when he’d never been around my day-to-day existence?

  I pulled my hand from his grip. “Where are we going?”

  Malcolm missed a step and then righted himself. “Bedroom.”

  Heat travelled up my back and then made its way down through my core. I would love, love, love to have Malcolm in my bedroom. Preferably naked. And hard. Oh heavens, the buzz in my blood stream was going to make me careless. “We can’t have sex.”

  Reaching the top of the stairs, Malcolm pointed left and right. “Which way to your room?”

  “Left. Do you hear me? We can’t have sex.” There was the whole happiness problem, and even if I decided the Others were full of shit and had their own agenda that didn’t match my own, there was the I couldn’t make hasty decisions with my heart. I wouldn’t do that to the kids. If I kept reminding myself, maybe I’d remember not to get naked with Malcolm.

  He snorted and found his way into my room. “Not sure I could have sex right now if I wanted to. The high is riding me hard. Going to pass out. Promised the middle guy I wouldn’t leave you, so I’m staying right here.” He tapped himself on the chest. “I keep my promises.” He looked around the room once. “Great room. Suits you. I like the drapes.”

  “The drapes?” The white lace window decorations once seemed romantic when Levi and I picked them out. I’d quickly discovered they were a dust magnet. No matter how many times I cleaned them, the next day they needed more attention. “Thanks.”

  “Welcome. Still sleep on the left side?”

  I could kick him out. He wouldn’t be breaking his promise to Dexter if he slept in Grayson’s room. The truth was, I wouldn’t mind the company. I hated sleeping alone. If that made me less of a kick ass woman then so be it.

  “Yes.” Actually, I slept in the middle of the bed since I didn’t have to share it with anyone. If he was getting in it with me, than I’d revert to my left. “Do you think the ghosts are acting this way because they want out of here before the Cascade? Before the shadow people come?”

  Malcolm yawned. “We’ll talk shop in the morning. Too many things. Too much of a night.” He kicked off his shoes and face-planted on the bed fully dressed.

  I stood watching him. I was tired, too. Yet … why had the ghost encounter ridden him so much harder than me? Was it because I was near him? The kissing? Had he gotten too happy and therefore weaker? I’d taken out the demon and fought the ghosts. Even though I could feel the waning of power making me loopy, I wasn’t going to pass out.

  Not getting any answers tonight, I scooted around the bed until I was on Malcolm’s side. He wasn’t going to be comfortable waking in his pants. I reached underneath him and managed to undo his button and his zipper. He didn’t move, not even to raise his head to look at me. With a little maneuvering, I managed to get his pants off. He wore black boxer shorts which stopped at the top of his thighs. I tried not to admire his legs too much since he’d not given me permission to do any of this and I didn’t want to be some kind of obsessed mess.

  After I draped his pants over the chair next to the bed, I covered him in the quilt. This time he sighed and turned his head. My he
art turned over. Malcolm always looked so unburdened in sleep. The requisite lines on his forehead from his perpetual scowl were missing. I’d seen him like this so many times, yet not with the eyes I looked out of now. My soul remembered.

  I leaned over and kissed him lightly. He smiled in his sleep and didn’t move. A second later, he spoke something I couldn’t understand in Arabic, which made me grin. I knew a few catch phrases, things he called me when he wasn’t thinking about it. Mostly loving endearments. My heart. My life. I loved them.

  I steeled myself. No, I had loved them. I couldn’t currently love them. I had to keep some distance between us.

  He continued to dream in Arabic, even though he’d spent most of his life in America speaking English. I returned to my side of the bed and flipped out the light. Maybe it was the change in the room, but Malcolm went from sleeping quietly to snoring in under three seconds. I groaned. The one downside to sharing a bed …

  I nudged him gently to see if it would help if he rolled over. He muttered something again and turned in the wrong direction, closer to me, with his arm slung over my body. With a tug, he spooned me tightly and returned to snoring in my ear.

  I groaned again. This was going to be a long night. I was never going to get to sleep with him cutting wood in my ear. I tried to loosen his grip. Short of waking him, I wasn’t going to get out of his embrace.

  The house was quiet, and eventually his warmth caught me. His breathing softened, and as the time ticked by, I found a rhythm to the sound which lulled me to sleep. Sweet darkness overtook me.

  ***

  When I woke the next morning, Malcolm hadn’t moved, and I really needed to pee. I yanked on his hand and managed to loosen myself from his hold enough to get out of the bed.

  He raised his head, regarding me through one eye. “Where?”

  Full sentences were apparently not happening for him just yet. “Bathroom.” One word would have to suffice.

  I took care of business and used the time to clean myself a bit, too. When I came out of the bathroom, he sat in the bed and rubbed his eyes. “What time is it? My phone’s in my pants. I’m not quite up to moving.”