WHAT FELT LIKE AGES LATER, but what my watch revealed had only been one hour, my time sitting alone in the dark was over. Adrian came outside, grinning the full effect of his pride.
“They won’t be bothering you again for quite some time. We will take you inside now and you will rest.”
Once I was inside, lying down in the bedroom and completely unable to fall asleep, my heart still pounding in my chest, Adrian left. I was too frazzled to care that no one had explained to me what had just happened.
Charles came and sat on the edge of the bed. “You all right?”
“I think one of them killed my mom,” I said.
“How so?”
I recapped for him how my mother had died. “Mrs. Franklin thought it was witchcraft, because right after my mom fell to the floor, there was smoke rising from her body. It was just like the smoke outside.”
Charles’ expression was grave. “It may have tried to take you instead.”
“Oh no,” I said certainly. “My mom wasn’t really possessed. Mrs. Franklin just thought she was.”
“Exorcisms are the best way to invite Morts into a home. She might not have been possessed when Mrs. Franklin brought her there, but it’s possible something happened once they began their endeavors.”
I swallowed around a lump in my throat. “Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter because that was a long time ago.”
“Sophia,” Charles said in a way that made me want cry, simply by overwhelming me with his compassion.
“What’s done is done. Can’t change the past,” I added as cheerfully as I could.
The smile on my face felt so unnatural I wasn’t sure how to sustain it nor how to let it fall naturally from my face. I turned away instead.
Chapter 17
JANUARY CAME AND WENT. I would not be returning to work. Maybe I would eventually, but for now I needed to keep my distance. I spent all my newly freed-up time poring over books from Adrian, looking for more answers about my ancestor and how to tap into her gift. I needed to be able to protect myself. Charles couldn’t be there to protect me all the time.
Adrian’s books provided minimal support. The information on fire scrying—using fire to see visions—was useful, but the books addressing magic of the mind talked about telepathy and telekinesis and other things of little-to-no help.
Charles and I had been together for nearly six months, though the time felt more like a lifetime. I’d learned some important things from the experience.
One: I didn’t want anything to do with Charles’ world. Two: I wanted everything to do with him. And three: I couldn’t have it both ways.
As though my current stresses weren’t enough, the voices had amplified. I contemplated telling Charles. He’d need to know eventually; if not now, when? Was I ready to tell him these things, even at the risk of losing him?
Charles’ footsteps sounded in the hall outside our bedroom door—footsteps I’d memorized and loved for their reliability. The kind that echoed with a dull, non-threatening thud. His approach replaced my stress with joy, and I bit back a smile.
Somewhere along the way, we’d ended up sleeping in the same bed. I couldn’t think of any other man I would trust enough to do that with.
Charles placed a hand on each side of the doorjamb and leaned into the room. “I have a surprise for you.”
I arched my eyebrows in reply and followed as he led me to the spare room—the room I’d stayed in when I first moved in here. It’d been locked up for over a month now.
He swung open the door and stepped back, allowing me to enter first. The entire wall to my left had shelves, wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor, packed with books. Beneath the window, candles scattered across the surface of a small desk. I smoothed a hand over the arm of a microfiber love seat near the door.
“Charles.” I shook my head, smiling. “I can’t believe you did this!”
A smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “Adrian and my mother donated books to your collection.”
Charles stepped fully into the room. “Do you like it?”
“Like?” I asked, spinning back toward him. “Charles, I love it!” I wrapped my arms around him, locking my lips with his. He murmured against the kiss, and I pulled back. “What?”
“I forgot to tell you—my parents are stopping by tomorrow evening for dinner. They called right before you arrived. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Of course not. Should I make plans with Lauren?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “That’s why I was telling you.”
“To let me know not to be here?”
“No.” He chuckled. “What are you talking about? They’re looking forward to meeting you.”