Nischal [leopard spots 9] (22 page)

“It always is, but I was talking about her defective scoring, not mine!” Preston poked Nisch in the ribs. “Like I’m ever not satisfied.”

“If you two are done squabbling, maybe you could get yourselves and your friend out there”—she gestured to the forest—“over to my place. You’re on private property now.”

“We are?” Preston glanced around. “It looks the same as the national park part.”

“It’s not.” The older woman pointed at Nisch. “Snow leopard, huh? You’ll have to explain that to me. My whole clan was killed over there.”

“Ours too,” Nisch said, “Well, it was only my brother Sabby, me and our mom. Then one day she was trapped, and it was just me and Sabby for a while.”

“You poor young men.” She sighed. “Too much loss in our world. Well, come on, come meet the rest of the Travises.”

“Travis?” Preston sat up when Nisch got off him. “Hey, you know some wolf shifter truck driver gave me an address in Colorado for snow leopard shifters. I think that’s y’all.”

“I imagine it is. Does the truck driver guy have a name?”

“Cliff,” Preston told her. “Do you know him?”

She looked skyward. “Lord, no, but I think he helped out one of my grandsons. Anyway. Come on up. Let’s visit. You can meet a whole bunch of snow leopard shifters. I’m Marybeth, by the way. And I’m everyone’s grandma, so you three just got you another one if you have some already. But I’ll be your favourite in no time.”

Preston laughed. He didn’t doubt that. There was a confidence about the woman he admired. “Preston Hardy, and this is Nischal, my mate.”

”Good to meet you both.” They shook then Marybeth canted her head. “Well, come on, now. Are we driving or walking?”

“That depends on how far it is,” Preston said.

Marybeth pointed at him. “Smart man. It’s a long walk as a human. Let’s get your white-haired friend back here and let’s go for a ride. I’ll take that shirt of yours that Nischal threw on the ground.”

Preston got it off the ground and handed it to her. She patted his cheek. “I like you. We’re going to get along just fine.”

“I believe it, ma’am. I don’t think you’d let it go any other way.” He had the feeling a new chapter was starting in their lives, and it was going to be more fun than he’d ever imagined having.

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Southern Spirits: Ascension

Bailey Bradford

Excerpt

Chapter One

“Hey, Ro, can you get the oven mitts for me?” Severo asked as he opened the oven door.

Rogelio Martinez plucked the mitts from the counter top and handed them to his uncle Sev. The heat from the oven wafted out and Ro stepped back, swiping at his brow. “Are they ready?”

“I think so.” Sev pulled out the bubbling enchiladas. The spicy scent of them filled the kitchen and Ro’s stomach gurgled with anticipation. Between the enchiladas and the tortillas, both homemade, he was about to drown himself in drool. He swallowed and greeted his uncle Laine as he came into the kitchen. “Hey, Uncle Laine, how was work?”

Laine took off his Stetson and held it in one hand as he walked over to Sev. The kiss they shared was brief but the love between the two men was evident in the way they leaned towards each other, and in their expressions.

Rogelio’s heart pinched with something uncomfortably like jealousy. He didn’t want to be ugly, and he didn’t begrudge his uncles their love. He just… He wanted a love like that for himself. Well, and another man,
duh.
As he watched Sev and Laine, Ro’s mind wandered to his fantasy man. Ro had pictured him so many times since he’d realised he was gay. Thick blond hair, stocky, muscular build, and a smile that promised all kinds of mischief.

Ro blinked and shook his head. The image forming in his mind wasn’t one of a man he’d ever had. It was of a picture he’d seen years ago when, as a teen, he’d gone snooping into Sev’s past. It had twined with Laine’s, and Ro had been a naïve and romantic young fool, so entranced by Sev and Laine’s love story that he hadn’t been able to think of much else.

“You gonna help set the table, kid?”

Laine’s deep rumbling voice snapped Ro out of his thoughts. “Yeah, sure.”

Ro took the plain blue plates down from the shelf and placed them on the table. It didn’t take him long to lay out silverware and glasses of sweet tea. Laine made up a batch of guacamole while Sev finished up the salsa. They sat down at the table once everything was in place.

Laine arched a brow at him and pointed at the enchiladas. “Two or three?”

“Three.” Ro was thin as a whip but he could and did eat anything he wanted.

Sev sniffed at him. “I used to have that kind of metabolism. It’ll catch up to you, trust me.”

“I doubt that,” Ro said as he scooped some guacamole onto his plate. He was starving, but he could spare a moment to pick on his uncle. “You’re still in shape, and you’re getting old.”

Sev hissed and kicked him under the table. “I am
not
old, smart ass. And Laine’s older than me, anyway!”

Ro nodded and managed not to grimace as his shin took another kick. “Yeah, but Laine has always looked…” Ro waited for Laine to glare at him, then he sent Laine his sweetest smile. “Dignified.”

Laine snorted and muttered, “Dignified, my ass. Sayin’ I always looked old is what you’re sayin’.”

Ro hitched up a shoulder and shovelled a forkful of enchiladas into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned appreciatively as the hot cheese almost burnt his tongue. He wasn’t the only one enjoying the meal, either. The three men quit picking on each other and settled in to eat.

A prickling sensation caused the hairs on the back of Ro’s neck to stand up. His skin flushed with an awareness that he’d come to recognise. Sev cocked his head, but Laine kept eating, right up until the time that his plate scooted away from him.

Laine grabbed his plate and glared around the room. “Aw, damn it, Conner! You’re just jealous because you can’t have any!”

Sev shook his head. “He can have yours,” he said just as Laine’s plate was lifted off the table.

Laine leapt up from his seat but the plate spun up until its contents almost touched the ceiling.

“Conner…” Laine growled.

Ro’s pulse raced and he grew warm in places he just shouldn’t while sitting at his uncles’ table. Ro set his fork down and pressed his hands to his thighs, digging his fingertips hard against his legs to distract himself from the wave of arousal washing over him. Only someone like him would have a crush on a dead guy with a love for pranks.

“I’m gonna call someone who can exorcise spirits,” Laine warned. The plate tipped precariously and Laine tossed a hand out. “I was kidding! You know we love you, buddy.”

And just like that, the plate was lowered to the table again. Ro watched enviously as Laine’s hair was tousled. Sev swatted at the air shortly thereafter. “Conner, don’t fuck with my hair—urgh!” Sev’s hair became the victim of a mini whirlwind. Laine snickered. Ro dipped his head and wished he’d been included in the playing, but, as usual, Conner didn’t seem to notice him. He supposed that shouldn’t be surprising. Conner had been Laine’s lover before dying. There was no reason for the prankster spirit to notice Ro’s existence.

What would be the point if he did?
Ro couldn’t figure that one out. He kept his sigh to himself. He was just a geeky twenty-eight-year-old who still lived at home with his parents and didn’t have a life to speak of.

“Did you sense him?” Sev asked as Ro fiddled with a fold in his jeans.

Ro shook his head. “No.” He didn’t think that prickling sensation counted. As much as he’d longed to be gifted like Sev, to be able to communicate with the dead, Ro just wasn’t able to. He figured his familiarity with Conner was the only reason he knew when that particular spirit popped in. Conner had been swooping in to tease Laine and Sev, and sometimes save their asses in certain situations, for a long time now. Ro had heard so many stories—

Sev pushed back his chair. “I bet he’s in the bathroom hiding my stuff again. I’ll be right back.”

“Huh?” Ro looked at Laine for an explanation.

Laine grunted around a mouthful of food. He chewed it then swallowed, in no obvious hurry to answer, but he finally did. “‘Huh’ isn’t exactly a question, at least not in my mind, it isn’t. Conner’s taken to hiding Sev’s creams and hair dye. I don’t think he likes your uncle hiding his grey.” Laine took a drink of his tea and held the condensation-covered glass in his hand as he spoke. His dark eyes held a seriousness to them that made Ro want to squirm like a recalcitrant child. “You’re a smart kid. Are you gonna keep working at Virginia’s Café forever?”

In other words, why didn’t he go to college, get a real job—no, a career—and make something of his life? Ro felt a surge of anger at that. He’d been asked it too often. He tipped his chin up and glared at Laine, fighting down a shiver of fear and the intimidation he always felt at even the idea of standing up to the sheriff. But Ro was tired of everyone looking at him like he was a fool for not wanting more.

“What’s wrong with it if I do? I’m making an honest living. I’m good with the customers.” It wasn’t challenging, except for when Mr Brown decided to be an asshole, but even that Ro could handle. “Not everyone is made to go to college. There have to be little people working jobs like mine so educated people can have food they don’t have to cook themselves. It’s not like—”

“Whoa, whoa, kid, stop,” Laine said as he held up a hand. “I didn’t mean any offence.”

Ro cocked his head, puzzled by that. “Well, how else was I supposed to take it?”

“Maybe that your uncle Laine thinks you’re too smart and talented to spend the rest of your life waiting on tables?” Sev said from behind him.

Ro twisted around in his chair to watch Sev stash an armful of products in the pantry. “Won’t Conner find them there?”

“Nah. He’s off again, probably keeping Stefan company, or spying on someone else.” Sev closed the pantry door and leaned a hip against it. “You’re evading.”

Ro scowled and turned back to his plate. “No, I’m not. I already answered. I don’t want to go anywhere other than where I am. Why’s that so hard for anyone to understand? Some people go and come back, some people just go, and some people stay and are happy with their lives.” Honestly, Ro wasn’t a hundred per cent certain why he didn’t want to go off to college, or even to the community college. It just wasn’t for him. That was the best he could come up with.

Sev sat down beside him and touched his nape, brushing aside Ro’s long hair to do so. “Look, we just worry. We only want you happy, just like your mama and dad do. They love you, but feel like you’re staying here because you feel obligated.”

“I don’t.” He did, but that wasn’t all of it. His mother’s diabetes had ravaged her body over the past decade. The amputations and dialysis were draining what had remained of her will to live, Ro could see it. So could his father Roger and Ro’s siblings.

And so could Sev. Ro saw the sadness Sev tried to hide. It had etched lines around his eyes and mouth, and dimmed the enthusiasm that used to shine so bright in Sev’s eyes.

“Someone has to be here for them,” Ro finally said when he couldn’t stand another moment of silence. “One of their kids should, at least, and I won’t ask that of my sister or brother. They have dreams that don’t involve staying in McKinton, and I really do like my job.”

“But—” Sev began and Ro was done arguing.

“No, Sev. I don’t have the drive, the…the ambition that I’d need to do something else. I’m comfortable here. It’s where I want to be, even if that means living with my parents. They need me, no matter what they say.” Truly, the only thing he’d wanted was to be like Sev, but he wasn’t, not really. Sev could have been his father, they were so alike in looks, both on the short side with slender builds and dark glossy black hair. Well, Ro’s was natural, while he suspected, now, that Sev’s had some help courtesy of L’Oréal. Sev was also more muscular, but they had the same green-grey eyes and honey-coloured skin. Celadon, that was the name of the colour, if he wanted to get technical about it. Sharing those traits with Sev had given Ro so much hope that he’d inherit more things from Sev, but he hadn’t, and that was that.

“Let’s just enjoy our meal and stop harping on him,” Laine rumbled. “Sorry, Ro, since I’m the one that started it.”

Ro rolled his neck once Sev moved his hand. He got a good pop out of it and grinned when that sound made Laine wince. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. I’m over it.” He cast a teasing glance at Sev. “So, how long have you been dying that grey?”

Ro grinned as Sev shook his fork at Laine. “You told!”

Satisfied with the distraction he’d created, Ro sat back and enjoyed the show.

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About the Author

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

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Bailey loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.total-e-bound.com