Demon Crossings (13 page)

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Authors: Eleri Stone

BOOK: Demon Crossings
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He took a step closer. “Grace.”

She liked the way he said her name. Something about the deep rumble of those
R
s dropping from his tongue. She looked up. He cupped her cheek and she froze. His lips parted then pressed closed as if he had to catch the words before they tumbled out. She wished he’d just say what was on his mind. Despite her gift, she wasn’t a mind reader. Slowly, he stroked his thumb across her bottom lip and everything in her fixed on that light, sweeping touch.

“That wasn’t obligation.”

“You said I needed it.”

“You did.” His fingers slid back into her hair and his eyes softened as he traced the line of her neck down to her shoulders.

“But you didn’t want me.”

His lips twitched into a small, brief smile. “What gave you that idea?”

“I went to bed alone that night.”

“You weren’t in any frame of mind to take me on. I was trying to keep you safe.”

Her eyebrows shot up but she didn’t, couldn’t, pull away from the sweep of his rough hands as he explored the shape of her face, finding all the sensitive spots along her neck. He smiled whenever a shiver slid down her spine. “We take care of each other here. We don’t take advantage when someone’s hurting.” He tipped up her chin so she had to look him in the eye. “Do you understand?”

No. She didn’t understand at all but she nodded because he seemed to expect it. “Is it…do you
want
me to leave?”

“No, Grace, I don’t.”

He was going to kiss her. She could see his intent, eyes hooded, expression hard, his breath warm and soft on her cheek. His hand slipped back to cradle her skull and the touch of his lips on hers was so gentle it shocked her. A seeking, questioning caress that made her whole body go warm and liquid. Her knees trembled and she set her hands on his hips to steady herself. With a groan, he changed the angle and deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past her parted lips to tangle with hers. She met him, rising up on her toes and dragging her hands around to his back. The muscles of his torso tensed, she could feel them shift beneath his shirt as he stepped into her, nudging her body back to rest against the counter.

All the while his hands never left her face. Rough fingers pressed to her scalp, he held her immobile while he plundered her mouth. She should have felt trapped but she only felt safe, protected. A teardrop caught in the crease of her eye and she wanted to wipe it away before he saw it. He’d misinterpret. It was only a kiss.

She wormed her fingertips under the hem of his shirt and touched skin, warm, smooth, hot over hard muscle. A noise rose in his throat, needful and harsh, a groan that passed his lips and trembled on her tongue. The long muscle in his back tightened beneath the press of her hand.

“Grace.”

Oil popped on the stove and she started. He pulled away, eyes searching her face, his gaze lingering for a moment on her lips. He wanted her. That was bittersweet and unexpected. They’d signed a contract. Technically, he was her client now. The rational part of her warned that too much had happened too quickly to entangle herself in the business of Ragnarok any more than she already had. Inside she was cold and trembling because she didn’t entirely understand her reaction to Aiden. Raw, primitive lust—that part was easy to identify, easy to deal with. But there was something more too. Something unfamiliar and terrifying. She thought about the condoms still sitting in the plastic bag. It was tempting to ignore the warning bells going off inside her head.

Honorable, steadfast, disturbingly intense, this was not a man who played games. The other night, he’d been taking care of her. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe it hadn’t been about obligation for him. But it hadn’t been about love either. Plain desire. He was offering her one thing but would take something from her in return that she wasn’t sure she was ready to give up. If she took this next step, he’d own a piece of her and she needed to be very sure before she said yes to the question in his eyes.

He needs me to find Hallie, but he wants to protect me too. It will tear him apart and me too if I let it.

She reached back to grip the countertop and dropped her gaze, suddenly unsure of herself and of him.

He was still for a moment longer before taking a ragged breath and stepping away. “I’ll get the chicken.”

Chapter Thirteen
 

“Hello there.”

Halfway out the door, Grace jumped and spun around. An old man sat on the porch in a painted metal chair with his boots propped up on the lower rail. He folded his newspaper, laid it across his lap and regarded her curiously.

Because it would be rude to go back inside, she stepped forward and let the screen door slap closed behind her. “Who are you?”
And why do the people here treat Aiden’s home like the local recreation center?

“Jerry Davies.” He settled back with a sigh. “You must be the Grace we’ve been hearing so much about. My boys are out helping Aiden in the fields. I planned to go out too but you know how Aiden is.”

“Not really,” she said, and if there was a touch of frustration in her tone, Jerry didn’t seem to notice.

“He insisted I stay here. He should be resting.” The man gave her a nod and a smile. “Or entertaining his pretty guest.”

She sat on the top step and looked out over the fields. Another high cloudless sky, the air sticky, hot and thick. “Are they harvesting?”

“Spraying.”

Aiden would run himself ragged. He was up before dawn every morning, and came in around midday to have lunch and make sure she was okay. But she knew the whole time he was in the house with her, his mind was somewhere else. He seemed weighed down and even though he bore that weight stoically, she worried about the toll it took. “How does he find the time for everything?”

“Oh, the fault’s been active since late spring. It’s not always like this. It’ll settle down before long, you’ll see. The winter is usually quiet and we all help him with the farm. It’s the least we can do.”

It was the least they could do, but Aiden still busted his butt every day. This wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned helping out with the farm. There was still so much she didn’t understand about the inner workings of Ragnarok. She eyed Jerry, his open friendly face, and saw an opportunity. “Bill and Lois don’t seem to think so. They didn’t want him to go after Hallie.”

“Bill and Lois,” he said with a note in his voice that suggested they weren’t his favorite people in the world. “Have they been bothering you?”

She shook her head. “But why would they try to stop Aiden from finding his daughter?”

He sucked at his cheek as he weighed his answer. “We have to pretend we’re just like everyone else, only human, but some of us start to believe that after a while. Especially the ones with thinner blood. Aiden will do what he thinks best. Always does.” A glint of humor came into Jerry’s blue eyes. “He’s a lot like his dad that way.”

“His dad was the last Odin.”

Jerry nodded and rocked in his chair a bit. “And my father was the one before that. Now, my line descends from the first Odin who founded Ragnarok, you know, after our people moved from Norway.”

“Wait a minute,” she interrupted. “I thought Aiden inherited the post from his father.”

“Like a crown or a piece of land?” Jerry shook his head. “You only have to be Æsir. The post can pass between families and it’s usually clear who was made for the job. My oldest grandson shows a lot of promise. He’s only five but they’ve already started his training.”

“At five years old?”

“So he’ll be ready if Aiden fails.”

“You mean if he dies.” She knew the stakes. That sword hanging over Aiden’s bed wasn’t a plaything. She’d seen the fire demons herself. She knew what Asgard was like from the impressions that seeped over from Hallie.

Jerry nodded.

She scooted her butt around until she could rest her back against the porch column. When Aiden had told her his people had come to this world when Asgard fell, she’d imagined he meant that they’d come here, to this land, this place. “If your family founded this town, who was guarding the portal before you got here?”

“The weak spot was always here but without our presence, the fire demons wouldn’t feel the pull to cross over. It wasn’t a natural disaster that destroyed Asgard. A rival tribe called the Vanir created those demons, keyed them to our DNA to seek and destroy. If we weren’t here, one or two might wander across but nothing like this.”

She frowned. “Then why stay? Why not settle somewhere else? Split up if you need to.”

His eyes took on a faraway look and he rocked slowly in the chair. “We need the magic that seeps through from our world to survive here. The Celts called us gods because we lived so long they thought we were immortal. We were stronger, faster, had magic to cross between worlds, control the weather, some of us could even bend time. We’re weaker now, almost human, but that magic is still a part of us and we need it to survive. You can feel it—” he tapped his chest, “—when you get too far from home. A hollowness that eats you up from the inside. The ones who leave don’t last long in your world, Grace. That’s why we’re all glad you were able to find your way home.”

Home. She tried to smile. Some kind of heavy machinery droned in the background, and she turned her face into the light breeze.

“So, you decided to wake up,” Aiden said, coming around from the side of the house. His jeans were smudged with dirt and his T-shirt was damp with sweat. His hair was tousled, the small smile he gave her lit up his eyes and all she wanted to do was hop off the porch and into his arms. She might have done it too if Jerry hadn’t been sitting there.

Instead, she only smiled. “Mornin’. It is still technically morning, you know.”

Glancing up at the sun nearly overhead, Aiden didn’t comment, just came up the steps and leaned against the railing, stretching out his legs in front of him. He fixed the older man with a bemused smile. “Filling her head with fairy tales?”

“She should have heard all this on her granddad’s knee. Someone has to fill in the gap.” Jerry looked at her. “Where is your family, Grace?”

Family again. These people were obsessed. “My parents passed away years ago.”

There was real sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry for that. You’re all alone in the world then?”

She nodded.

“Well, they must have been good people to have made someone like you.”

“The best,” she lied.

“Here you are willing to risk your life for our Hallie. Good people. Isn’t that right, Aiden?”

“That’s right,” Aiden agreed, voice low and deep, not looking at her.

Jerry pushed stiffly to his feet. “The boys still around back?”

Aiden nodded. “They’re just cleaning up now. They’ll be around in a few minutes.”

“Beth said to thank you for the tomatoes, especially those big ones. She slices them up and eats them all by themselves in a sandwich. Well, a little bit of mayonnaise, a little bit of pepper.” He stuffed his paper into his back pocket. “I think it’s disgusting but Beth, she thanks you.”

“It was a good year for tomatoes. I’ll send more over soon.”

“She’s doing the last fitting on Maggie’s wedding dress. I can’t bring John back too soon or she’ll have my head for it.”

“Is Rane over there?”

Jerry’s eyes glinted. “Dressed in puce. It’s an awful color. I don’t know what the girl was thinking. Saw it in some magazine and had to have it.” He glanced at Grace. “You know how it is.”

She nodded because she knew she was supposed to. She’d never even looked at a wedding dress, never gone to prom or been to a formal dance. She glanced at Aiden and flinched away from his calm scrutiny.

Jerry’s boys, who turned out not to be boys at all, drove their pickup to the front door and they were all gone a few minutes later. Grace stood up to go inside.

“He didn’t talk your ear off did he?”

“Not at all. He was nice,” she said. “Everyone here has been.”

Aiden’s eyes were even lighter in the sun. She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She dreaded questions like the ones Jerry had asked and they were so…innocuous. She couldn’t explain that to someone like Aiden.

“You look like something’s bothering you.”

“No.” He wouldn’t understand. How could he?

He took a step closer, still studying her face. “Having second thoughts?”

“No.” He’d been treasured by his family, had always belonged here. He was surrounded by people who loved and respected him. And he deserved that. Every bit of it.

He lifted the locket she was wearing to examine it. She’d bought it last year in an antiques store for too much money. Silver with an etched floral design. Silly, old-fashioned little trinket. His thumb smoothed over the catch to open it. Her pulse fluttered against the chain and she held her breath, trying to resist the urge to run away.

“Scared?”

“No.”

She wasn’t scared of anything. Except maybe what he was thinking right now—poor sad Grace with no pictures in her locket. If he tried to console her, she’d knee him in the groin. After a moment, he closed the empty locket and let it fall back to her chest. “I thought we could run into town to outfit you with some supplies for the crossing. Did you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

A courtesy question. She was sitting around waiting for the new moon and he knew it. “No.”

He stepped toward the door. “I have to shower. Will an hour be enough time for you to be ready?”

“Sure.”

She stared at the closed door for a few minutes trying to figure out what had happened there at the end. He hadn’t pressed and she should be happy for that, but she wanted to know why. Aiden terrified and fascinated her. She could break herself on that kind of man. Already, she’d let him get too close and now he could see right through her. She wondered if he could see how badly she wanted him and if that was the reason he was trying so desperately to keep his distance. Did it scare him?

It scared the hell out of her.

 

Aiden felt a strange sense of déjà vu sitting on the bench at the bottom of the stairs. Bea had always been one to run late. He missed this, waiting on someone getting ready just for him. Missed having someone to share his days with—and his nights. This house had become a lonely place, especially during this last year, and he’d grown accustomed to the emptiness and the silence. Grace living here, even temporarily, shook up his world. When Hallie came home…

The door to Grace’s room swung open and his head came up as she started down the stairs. He paused halfway to standing and stared. She wore strappy sandals and a skirt that floated around her curvy legs. Her hair was down in a cloud of brown curls that made her look young and carefree. She was beautiful. Warm and kind under that tough-girl act, and he wanted her so badly it made his gut ache.

He thought that with a little nudge she would come to his bed but he’d been doing his best not to push her. She was the one who pulled back from every kiss. The one who looked ready to bolt every time he tried to get to know her better. If she wanted to keep her distance, he would let her. If she wanted to hold tight to her secrets, he wouldn’t pry. He’d hired her to find Hallie and he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.

Even if it killed him.

If she came to him, he wanted it to be with the understanding that Hallie came first, that he had a responsibility to his people. Grace shouldn’t be at the bottom of anyone’s list but he was spread too thin as it was. She deserved more but if she came to him still, understanding all that, he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to turn her away.

She hit the bottom step and he finally straightened, scratched the back of his head and tried to remember that this wasn’t a date. He didn’t know whether to compliment her, ignore her or drop to his knees and beg her to walk back up those stairs to his bed.

She grabbed her purse from the bench. “So what are we shopping for exactly?”

“Supplies for you. Leather mostly—boots, coat, maybe pants if William has any in stock that will fit.” He tried to get the mental image of Grace’s round ass in leather out of his head and failed miserably. He grinned at her expression and pushed open the door. “It will keep you warm. It doesn’t burn easily and it’s tougher than cotton. One of our clan runs a specialty store in town. We should be able to find what we need there.”

He glanced down at her feet, slim ankles, toes painted pink. Funny, she hadn’t seemed the type to paint her nails. He could tell she was carrying her gun again by the weight of the purse she swung onto the seat before climbing inside his truck. A flash of bare thigh then she pushed her skirt back down to her knees and he remembered to start breathing again.

He got in the truck and put it in drive. “The shop’s in Decorah so I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat before we head over.”

She grinned. “Sounds great. It’ll be good to get out for a while.”

He flinched but kept his eyes on the road. Bea had hated it that they couldn’t travel. Well,
he
couldn’t travel and she’d never wanted to go alone. Trapped. “You can have my truck whenever you want or we can stop and pick up a rental if you’d rather do that. I didn’t mean to lock you up.”

“You didn’t.” Her smile slipped. “That’s not what I meant. You’ve been very hospitable. The whole town has been. I like that I never know who’s going to be at your kitchen table in the morning. But I feel like I’ve been sitting around watching the minute hand on the clock, so it’s nice to have a distraction. Is that why you work the farm? Christian said the Odin doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to. Something about tithes.”

“I like managing the farm. If you’re seriously bored there’s some bookkeeping I need updated or if you’d rather you can come out with me and I’ll teach you how to drive a tractor.”

He was joking about putting her to work but when he glanced over at her, she looked pleased.
Damn.
He’d been avoiding her. She was scared and he didn’t want to complicate things. Now, all he could think about was slipping his hands under her skirt, pressing his mouth to those smooth, soft breasts and forgetting everything except her. Grace. He could think of half a dozen ways to distract them both from what was coming and that was just off the top of his head. If he stared at her legs much longer, his imagination would start to get truly inventive.

She tipped her head to the side. “How about tenderloin?”

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