Happy Medium: (Intermix) (25 page)

“I’m sure. I’m just normal tired, not poisoned-apple-in-Snow-White tired. If I’m sick tomorrow, we can go. I promise.”

He paused, pressing a piece of tape along the edge of the pad. “If I’m real careful, can I put my arms around you for a second? I need to hold you, Em. It’s killing me not to.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, then pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Please,” she murmured. “Oh please do.”

He wound one arm around her waist, careful not to press against the scratches, then leaned his head against hers, stroking her hair. “Jesus, Emma. Sweet Jesus. You almost scared the life out of me.”

“You scared me first. It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay. You’re okay. It’s over.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, willing it to be true. “It’s over. Now you need to sleep.”

An hour later, he lay beside her in the darkened room, watching the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. He had to keep telling himself not to touch her, not to hold her—she needed her sleep. Watching her helped—at least it reminded him she was alive and well, lying close beside him. He seemed to be having a reaction that was the exact opposite of hers. She was exhausted, and he was sleepless.

“Riordan!”

He wasn’t entirely surprised to hear Skag’s voice. He figured it would be either him or Great-grandma Siobhan, and of the two he sort of preferred Skag. Either way, he wasn’t in the mood for cryptic messages from the beyond.

He slid carefully out of bed, although Emma was sleeping so soundly he was fairly certain she wouldn’t be aware of anything he did. As he came down the stairs, he saw Skag bobbing in the doorway to the living room, his cigarette holder clamped jauntily in his teeth.

“You’ve had a busy night. I’m amazed you’re not fast asleep in your trundle bed.”

“If I were asleep, you’d just wake me up.” Ray walked past him into the living room, managing not to grit his teeth. “Do you have something to tell me, or did you just call me downstairs to gloat?”

Skag moved to the fireplace, tapping his ashes onto the hearth. “I came to offer you my congratulations on the successful completion of your task. It isn’t everyone who can destroy a succubus. It shows you’re a true Riordan.”

“Technically, Emma destroyed it. Or we destroyed it together.” Ray sank down on the couch, resting his head against the back. “So she’s really gone? No more accidentally reviving her?”

“Definitely gone.” Skag nodded decisively. He glanced at a large black lump in front of the fireplace. “If only other things were as easy to dismiss.”

Helen, the black lump in question, gave him a doggy grin of greeting.

“Maybe Helen will come back to this dimension once Rosie and Evan are here.”

“One can only hope,” Skag muttered sourly. “As I was saying, you destroyed the object to which the succubus was attached. Which puts you one up on your great-grandmother, who could never deduce what that particular object was.” He frowned, staring at the tip of his cigarette. “Of course, technically neither could you. Ms. Shea gets the honors for that. You simply trapped the succubus in the dining room. Helpful, but not ultimately what destroyed her.”

“That thing scratched her,” Ray cut in. “Scratched Emma. Me too, in fact. Is it dangerous?” Helen rolled to her feet, suddenly watchful. Maybe her guard dog abilities had been activated.

Skag frowned. “It’s no doubt painful, but the fact that the succubus in question is now deceased will keep it from being much more than that.”

Ray’s jaw went tight. “Is there something I should do to help her?”

“There’s always aspirin. I suggest downing it with Scotch, but she might prefer white wine.” He sighed. “The younger generation is sadly uninformed about the pleasures of strong drink. I assume you don’t need any particular assistance yourself.”

Ray shook his head impatiently. “You’re saying she’s safe?”

“Safe enough. Both of you. Ms. Shea will have a sore back, but she should be all right in the long run.”

Helen, apparently reassured, began to sniff at Skag’s shoes. He quickly floated away from her.

“The succubus is dead, Emma’s all right.” Ray rubbed his burning eyes. “Why exactly are you here, Skag? That’s pretty much the end of it, right?”

“I’m here to answer any last lingering questions you may have. The destruction of the succubus made it possible for me to track down a great deal of previously unavailable information.” Skag arched an eyebrow, directing a withering glance in Helen’s direction. “If only it were as easy to divest myself of this ridiculous beast.”

Ray shrugged. “Can’t help you there.”

Skag sighed, then tapped some ashes into his ashtray. “You had an encounter with a succubus. You should have one or two things you need to settle for yourself. Isn’t that the case?”

Ray slumped back against the couch again. “Okay. The hair wreath.”

“What about it?”

“Was it Livingston’s hair?”

Skag nodded. “Miss Becker apparently used hair from both Grunewald and herself in creating it. She brought a lock of his hair to a member of the McSwain clan who then called up the succubus.”

Ray leaned forward again. “Who are the McSwain clan?”

“Various families have various specialties.” Skag leaned back against the mantel, blowing a cloud of smoke at the ceiling. “The McSwain family specialized in succubi and incubi—the male form, although you had one who was able to move back and forth between the genders. Somewhat rare, I understand.”

“So Amina knew she was asking for a succubus?”

Skag shook his head. “Of course not. If it had been explained, I doubt very much she would have agreed. She thought she was buying a love spell of some sort that would bind her lover to her. Unfortunately for her, the succubus gradually possessed her as she worked her wiles on Grunewald, and then Grunewald killed her in an effort to free himself. Not a happy result at all.”

A major understatement. “And Great-grandma Siobhan tried to drive out the succubus after that?”

“She did.” Skag shrugged. “She couldn’t destroy it completely without the binding object. But she could lessen its power. That, of course, is what Riordans do.”

“What we do?” Ray narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“As I said, every family had its own specialty. Your family’s specialty is fighting the Old Ones—the ones that go bad, that is. The succubus was one of them. And after Siobhan succeeded in binding it for almost a century, you successfully drove it off. With the not inconsiderable help of Ms. Shea.” He stared pensively at the ceiling. “So far as I know, the Shea family has no particular powers. It would be interesting to know what Ms. Shea’s other family names might be. Perhaps you could ask her.”

Ray gritted his teeth. “Perhaps I won’t. Thanks for the information.” He pushed himself to the front of the couch. “I’m headed back to bed.”

Helen sat up again, her tail thumping heavily on the hearth. Ray really hoped she wasn’t planning on coming with him. He wasn’t interested in sharing his bedroom with a hellhound at the moment.

“You do know there’s no going back, don’t you?” Skag said quietly.

“No going back to what?” Ray paused, trying to sound casual.

“No going back to what you were before you knew all of this.” Skag gestured around the room. “Before you knew you were a Riordan—and what that meant. Before you knew about the members of your family. All the members of your family, including my humble self.”

Ray flexed his jaw, trying to get it to loosen up. “I fix houses, just like I did before. When I get up tomorrow, that’s what I’ll go back to doing. The ghost is gone, the house is still there and needs repairing.” Assuming he got the rest of the money that Gabrielle DeVere owed him for filming the séance at the house. That might not be a sure thing anymore.

“Indeed. Nonetheless, you know now what your family’s real talent is. And you know that you have abilities you never thought of before, you and your siblings both. There will be times when the need for action will arise again. And you’ll be the ones who’ll have to step up.” For once, Skag sounded absolutely serious, without a hint of irony.

Ray sighed. “If that happens—when that happens—I’ll deal with it. But right now all I want is to go back to doing what I was doing before.”

He pushed himself to his feet, heading for the doorway, then turned back to where the Riordan spirit guide bobbed lazily in front of the fireplace. Somehow a martini glass had materialized in Skag’s right hand. He gave Helen’s ears a slightly reluctant scratch.

“Thank you,” Ray said slowly. “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Skag shrugged. “No, you couldn’t. But that’s my job, after all. Guiding Riordans. It’s not a bad life, depending, of course, on how one defines
life
.”

Ray let himself smile for what felt like the first time that night. “All the same, thanks. Maybe we’ll talk again sometime.”

Skag’s form began to turn transparent—Helen fading along with him. Once again, Ray could see the outline of the fireplace bricks through his chest. “I’d say that’s probably inevitable,” Skag murmured as he disappeared.

Chapter 24

Emma woke in darkness, running her hand along the sheet next to her to confirm what she’d already figured out. Ray wasn’t there.

She considered staying where she was and trying to will herself back to sleep, but the chances of that were slim at best. The scratches on her back hurt more than they had before. She figured she needed another handful of aspirin at least.

And she needed Ray. She needed Ray a lot more than she needed aspirin. She really needed him next to her, reassuring her that they’d won, that it was all over. Maybe the whole experience was beginning to catch up with her.

She slid her legs over the side, looking for something she could wear. Her shredded blouse and bra lay where she’d dropped them, not that she’d put them on again anyway. One of Ray’s denim work shirts was draped across the back of a chair and she wrapped it around her shoulders. At least it was loose enough not to touch the gauze he’d taped over the scratches.

As she headed down the hall toward the stairs, she paused. She could hear voices from the living room—Ray and someone else. Maybe Rosie had come back early. Except it sounded like another man.

Emma frowned. Maybe it was Rosie’s Significant Other, the one she’d gone to Chicago to meet. Charging into the living room wearing only Ray’s denim shirt might not be the most politic way to go about this.

She buttoned a few more buttons, then moved carefully down the stairs, trying not to make any noise. Maybe she could get Ray’s attention without parading her naked behind for everyone to see. At the bottom of the staircase, she paused again, peering in the door to the living room.

A man stood at the fireplace, dressed in a tuxedo, his hair slicked back from his face. A cigarette holder was clamped in his teeth. As she watched, he tapped ashes into the fireplace, his lips spreading in a dry smile. “That’s my job, after all,” he said. “Guiding Riordans. It’s not a bad life, depending, of course, on how one defines
life
.”

His accent sounded English. Emma leaned closer, trying to see him more clearly. She frowned. It looked like Rosie’s dog was sitting next to him on the hearth—she’d thought Helen was in a kennel. Although, come to think of it, Ray had never said exactly where she was.

Ray spoke from somewhere on the other side of the room. “All the same, thanks. Maybe we’ll talk again sometime.”

“I’d say that’s probably inevitable.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. The man in the tuxedo seemed to be dimming slightly, as if the light in the room were being turned down.

He looked directly at her for a moment, and then he winked. Just before he and Helen disappeared altogether.

Emma backed up and sat down heavily on the steps, her heart racing again.
People come and go so quickly around here.

Ray walked through the living room door and then froze when he saw her on the stairs. He was wearing only his jeans, which meant her pulse automatically took another quick jump.

“Emma. What are you doing up? Are you hurting? Do you need something?”

She shook her head. “Yes. No. Sort of. Who was that?”

His face went totally blank. “What do you mean?”

“That man. The man you were talking to. The one who just vanished into thin air.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then sank onto the stairs beside her. “You could see him.”

She nodded. “Absolutely. He winked at me.”

“He would.”

“Who was he, Ray?” she said softly. “I think I need to know.”

“He’s . . . his name is Skag. He’s sort of a distant relative. Of the Riordans, that is.”

She took another deep breath. “He’s not human, is he?”

He shook his head. “No. He’s really not. I think he was once upon a time, but he’s definitely not now.”

Emma yanked her unruly thoughts back into line. “So you have a family ghost?” Strange how that statement didn’t sound as loony as it would have at one time.

He shrugged. “Yeah. Goes along with the whole medium thing, I guess.”

“Was he your source?”

He frowned. “My source?”

She rubbed a hand across her forehead. Her shoulders gave a quick throb.
Need that aspirin.
“Back when we started trying to figure out what was going on at the Hampton house. You said you had a source of information. Was that him?”

Ray paused for several moments, staring at the darkness outside the front windows. Then he shrugged again. “Yeah. He’s the one who told me what we had to deal with and how to go about it.”

She leaned against the steps, trying to ignore the twinge from her back. “I don’t understand what all of this means exactly. And what happens now?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I figured once we got rid of the ghost at the Hampton house, everything would end. We’d go back to where we were before. But seeing Skag tonight sort of wiped that idea out. I don’t think anything’s going back to the way it was before. At least not exactly. I’m pretty sure I can’t go there myself.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

He sighed. “The jury’s still out on that.”

Somewhere deep within the house she heard a slight creaking, like something moving around. Or like a settling house. Funny how not knowing which it was didn’t make her feel that jumpy anymore.

Ray rubbed his eyes. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure where I go from here. What comes next. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I’m not having much luck.”

She watched him in the dimness for a moment, the strong lines of his face caught in the reflection from the streetlights. Then she reached for his hand, wrapping her fingers around the coolness of his palm. “I’ll never forget what you did tonight. When you stepped into that room and challenged the succubus to come after you instead of me. I thought I’d never seen anyone so strong, so beautiful. You were a hero. My hero.”

The corners of his mouth edged up in a dry smile. “And if I go back to being a carpenter?”

She shook her head. “You’ll still be a hero. That doesn’t change.”

He turned his hand over, sliding his fingers between hers. “You were no slouch, Em. You’re the one who figured it all out and did what had to be done to stop her even while she was trying to hurt you. You’re a heroine yourself.”

She blew out a breath. “I hadn’t really thought of it that way. I just did what I had to do to save us.”

“So did I.”

She let herself lean against him, resting her head against his bare shoulder. “So we’ve both been changed by everything that’s happened. And we both have to figure out what happens next. Where we go from here.”

He draped his arm around her, carefully avoiding her back. “I don’t want to give up what I do, the carpentry, the business. I think I just go on doing it, but doing it knowing some things are different from what they once seemed to be. And that sometimes I may have to hear and see things I hadn’t planned on hearing or seeing before. I won’t seek problems out, but I figure they may come to me anyway.”

She nodded. “That makes sense. That’s a good way to look at it.”

He brushed her curls away from her forehead. She hadn’t used a blow dryer in at least two days, but the frizz didn’t bother her much anymore. Maybe she’d find something to do that would let her look like herself for a change.

“What about you? Do you go back to shilling for Gabrielle DeVere?”

“I don’t know if I can. She fired me when I pushed her out the door tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Em.” He sighed. “That’s a lousy reward for saving her miserable life.”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure how I feel about working for her anyway. It just doesn’t seem right to help her set up phony haunted houses when I know what a real one is like. And I don’t know what I’d do if I found another real one. I’m like you—I figure from now on I may be seeing or feeling certain things whether I want to or not.” She snuggled closer, tucking her head beneath his chin. “So now I need to figure out what comes next, just like you. Only my options are a little more open.” She had a feeling that fact would be slightly more scary in the morning, but right now she couldn’t bring herself to care.

He leaned his head against hers. “You could stay here in San Antonio. Or Boerne. I’ve got friends in both places who could help. Plus there’s Rosie and my brother Danny. And my folks when they get back from their cruise. I’ve got lots of family here.”

Her chest felt tight all of a sudden. “That’s a possibility. I guess I could go back to Kansas City as far as that goes. I’ve got my own family there. And to tell you the truth, I think Gabrielle would rehire me. I could tell her I was saving her from a deranged fan.”

He turned her slightly so that they were face-to-face again. “I’m not saying this right. I’m sorry. Here’s the thing, Emma—I don’t want to let you go. I want you to stay with me. We can work out the whole job thing later. Just say you’ll stay here. The rest will fall into place.”

She took a deep breath, trying to figure out what she should say. And what she wanted to say.
You know what you want to say, damn it!

She did. But she also knew how unlikely it was that this could ever work out. He was who he was, and she still wasn’t in his league, even if she was a little closer than she’d been before. She could still hear the succubus whispering
He’ll leave you because you’re nothing.

“I know we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks,” he went on slowly. “And I know I’m asking a lot of you. But like I say, I don’t want to lose you. Everything that’s happened has sort of turned my life upside down. But losing you . . .” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers again. “That would turn it inside out and backward.”

She felt the slight scratch of his callused palm against her cheek, his breath warm against her lips. She wanted him so much. And she still wasn’t sure she could take him. “Give me a little time,” she whispered after a moment. “I’ll think about it. Really hard. I promise.”

He sighed, looping his arms carefully around her shoulders to pull her close. “I guess that’s the best I can hope for right now. We can talk more about it tomorrow.”

She managed not to wince when he squeezed against the scratches on her back. At this point, she really didn’t care a bit if they hurt. She raised her lips to his, changing the angle slightly to let his tongue plunge deep, running her fingers through the soft silk of his hair.

His hand dropped to her breast, warmth spreading outward and down, an ache forming deep inside. “God,” she whispered.

“Let’s go back upstairs.” He stroked a hand along her cheek. “We both need to get some sleep. And other stuff.”

“Other stuff sounds really good.” She let him pull her to her feet, then walked back up the stairs, leaning against his side.

He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips to her hair. “How do you feel? Do you need aspirin or something before we go back to bed?”

She looped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers. “Right now, all I need,” she murmured, “is you.”

“That you’ve got.” He leaned down to gather her up again, carrying her through the door into the bedroom.

Making love required a certain amount of care, given the scratches on her back that she didn’t want to lie on, but Emma thought they managed very well. And the sex was better at putting her to sleep than the aspirin. She dozed off in Ray’s arms, lulled by the warmth of his skin and the cool breeze from the air-conditioner.

And found herself in a large white room filled with moonlight. No fog this time, but Siobhan Riordan didn’t strike her as someone who needed special effects when she wanted something done.

Emma even thought she recognized the room now—it looked like one of the spare bedrooms down the hall from where she was sleeping with Ray at the moment. The furnishings were different, but she figured that was because she was seeing the original decorations rather than the ones Rosie was using a century later.

Siobhan sat on an ornate velvet slipper chair at the side of the room, her hands resting, as usual, on the cane in front of her.

Emma pulled Ray’s shirt more closely around her body. This room seemed cooler than the rest of the house.

“Congratulations,” Siobhan intoned. “You prevailed. I wasn’t entirely sure you would toward the end.”

“I was sure.” Emma raised her chin. Time to act like the heroine Ray had said she was “Once we had her trapped in the dining room, it would have been easy to find the object and eliminate it.”

“Had you not encountered . . . complications.”

Emma shrugged. “It made the situation more complex, but not impossible.” Inside she quaked a little, but she had no intention of letting Siobhan see that.

The older woman’s eyebrows quirked up. “And now?”

She blew out a breath. “Now the building has been cleansed, and Ray can continue his work there. He can finish doing what he set out to do.”

Siobhan gave her a dry smile. “Don’t be dense.”

“I’m thinking.” Emma gritted her teeth. “I’m trying to decide.”

“You’re avoiding the issue.”

“Like I said, I’m trying to decide. He’s a lot more . . . experienced than I am. And a lot more attractive. I’m not sure we’re right for each other. I’m not sure what’s right to do.”

“On the contrary,” Siobhan snapped. “You know exactly what’s right to do. Why not do it?”

Emma studied Siobhan’s straight back, her flashing black eyes. She doubted Siobhan had ever worried about making a choice in her entire life. “I’m afraid,” she blurted.

One dark eyebrow arched up again. “Afraid of what?”

“What might happen. What might not happen. Where my life might go from here.” She closed her eyes. “It’s the biggest turning point I’ve ever had. I don’t want to get it wrong.”

Siobhan’s chin rose, her lips thinning. “Child, don’t be a fool. You confronted and vanquished an exceedingly dangerous enemy who could have destroyed you easily. What happens now is nothing in comparison. Besides, you may well find your new life a great improvement over the old one. In fact, I can almost guarantee that you will.”

“But I’d expect you to say that.” Emma sighed. “He’s your great-grandson, after all.”

Siobhan’s eyes burned. For a moment, Emma wondered if she’d pushed too far. Then the older woman shrugged. “We never paid much attention to the boys in the family. Riordan women were the ones with the power. But these particular boys seem much more interesting than their ancestors.” Her jaw firmed. “Are you taking the word of a succubus seriously?”