Poison Tongue (23 page)

The curse on his soul didn’t matter then. Nothing mattered then but him and me and the way we fit together, his dark soul and my ill-tempered one. When Monroe touched me, I didn’t care about the darkness of the swamp or how deep it was. The world could have it, and it could have the world. I didn’t need them any longer.

I had him. I only wanted him.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He reached around to the front of me, grabbed the backs of my hands with his palms, laced our fingers together, and pressed them hard against the wall. “So gorgeous and so unexpected.”

“I’m going to save your soul.” I felt a tightening in my throat.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Not now that I have you.”

I squeezed his fingers entwined with my own. When his name came out as a whisper on my lips, his pace quickened, his breathing rushed.

He shifted the way he stood, changing the angle somehow. The moment he had, with each sweet press inside me, I could feel the head of his cock rub against the place that stole my breath away. A small gasp escaped each time he pulled back.

Monroe chanted my name, rested his forehead on my shoulder.

When he came, he immediately let go of my hands. He wrapped his thick arms around me, crushing me against him like he couldn’t fathom even an inch of our bodies not touching. I felt him pulsate inside me as I listened to the stark silence of his pleasure and then the ragged, uneven breaths that followed.

He shuddered once, then twice. Releasing me for a moment, he spun me around so I was facing him. He crowded me, looked down into my eyes the moment his calloused hand wrapped around my cock and squeezed.

My own breaking point was so close. I knew he could tell because he reached out one hand and tangled his fingers in my hair. The other, slick already, pumped me up and down, up and down. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, hitting the wall.

There was nothing in this great universe but the feel of Monroe’s warm body pressed so securely against mine, and the way his thumb traced the small slit at the tip of my cock.

Monroe said my name the moment before I broke apart. I stared up at him, into those cloudless eyes of his.

I could’ve wept from it then, what I saw when I looked into his eyes. So much darkness, so much evil. And yet, there was still the glimmer of something that shone so damn bright, just in those moments when I needed to see it most.

I came all over his hand, and my bare stomach. His hand slowed as he watched my face, my throat as I breathed heavily. When I’d finally fallen back down to earth, he did something so unexpected, an almost silent sob slipped out of my mouth.

Monroe hugged me.

It was so simple. He wrapped his arms around me, pressed his entire body to mine, and hugged me. He said nothing and didn’t move for so long I might’ve thought he’d fallen asleep had it not been for the pounding of his heart I could feel at my collarbone.

That was how the volcano of us erupted. Hot, heavy, slow. And then wrapped in each other’s arms, we told each other silent stories of understandings, thanks, and companionship with something as simple as a hug.

Chapter 16

WE STOOD
together next to a riverbank. The water flowed easily down the stream, splashing up against the sides of the muddy ground, the rocks that lined the shore. Cerulean, impossibly blue water glistened and glimmered.

The sky was a brushstroke of yellow and red against a pale beige backdrop. Heavy white clouds hung lazily in the sky. Birds flew overhead, tweeting as they flew past us. A gentle wind ran through my hair, brushing against the soft fabric of my clothing, tugging at it.

On our side of the river, behind us, stood a forest of tall, dark trees. On the opposing side, nothing existed but clear, green grass as far as the eye could see.

She looked younger than when she’d passed away, at least by a handful of years. Her long, blond hair fluttered in the wind. She watched me out of the corner of her eye, even as I stared out into the wide-open field.

“I miss you,” I told her.

She smiled. I could feel it. “I miss you more.”

“You were right, Gran.”

“I know.”

I turned to her and grinned. “You didn’t ask what you were right about.”

“I’m always right about everything, Levi. Thought you’d know that by now.” Her eyes twinkled with laughter.

After a few moments of silence, I said, “I’ve met him—the devil. Although I think the only evil part of him is the curse on his soul.”

She nodded as though it was what she was expecting to hear. “Can’t let him go, can you?”

“No,” I admitted. My shoulders slumped. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding in. “But this curse, it’s killing him.”

“There might be a way. But I don’t want to tell you. I’m afraid for you, for what helping this man might cost you.”

“I think losing him might cost me more, Gran.”

Again she nodded. “I was in love once. Young and stupid, and so very in love. With a witch doctor I met in Alabama. His name was Hank, but preferred to be called Mao Bristol. Every time I was around him, I thought he was driving me insane. And whenever I wasn’t around him, I thought I’d go insane from missing the crazy bastard.”

She laughed, but the look in her eyes was sorrowful.

“What happened?”

She waved her hand at me dismissively. “Passed before his time. But what I’m saying is that I understand. Love—who can rationalize it?”

“If anyone can, it would be you. I used to think you put the stars in the sky.”

“I did,” she replied, deadpan. “But love is an even greater feat. Far beyond my reach.”

The wind began to pick up. It pressed against my face, through my hair, tickling my eyelashes. I closed my eyes.

“Levi,” Gran said. “In my spell book that your mama keeps. At the end of the book, there’s a passage. Read it. And be careful.”

“Thank you, Gran.”

“And make sure Ward is with you. You’ll need him.”

I turned to her and wrapped her in my arms. I couldn’t feel her—not the touch of her skin, the warmth of her embrace, the tickle of her hair against my face.

But even in death, I knew she was still there for me. And I knew she always would be.

“I love you, Gran,” I whispered into her ear.

“I love you more.”

WE HADN’T
spoken a word to one another since waking, but each knew the other was awake. I could feel Monroe’s hot breath against my hair, hear the pattering speed of his heart.

The air felt lighter now than it had before. Something unspoken passed between us. Maybe it was how I’d come to the realization of how foolish I’d been. Gran told me I’d fall for a man like Monroe, and still I tried to change the stars. I knew what Gran said was gospel, yet I’d still tried to run from fate. I couldn’t run from that pull I had toward him any more than I could run from my own shadow.

I rolled over and looked at him, unsurprised to find his clear blue eyes already intent on me. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

We’d collapsed last night. Breathing hard, barely able to move. Monroe had pulled out a few blankets and laid them down in front of the unlit fireplace. Falling into his arms felt as natural as waking. He’d lain on the blankets, looked up at me with sleep-lidded eyes, and smiled.

That was it, that huge crack of thunder that rang in my ears. It hadn’t been the times he’d saved me from drowning myself in the swamp, or that sweet, hot first time we’d touched in front of the fireplace, or the way the gravity around him felt so damn strong to me.

It hadn’t been any of those things. It had been his easy, natural smile. The way he spread his arms wide-open, calling me to him.

That was it. And no number of amulets or curses or hexes would ever convince me that Monroe Poirier’s soul wasn’t worth saving.

“What are you thinking about?” Monroe whispered. He leaned forward, kissed the tip of my nose.

“Your soul,” I whispered back.

He said nothing for a moment, just reached out and wrapped his finger around a strand of my hair. “That ain’t a good thing to think about.”

I took one of his hands in my own, pressed butterfly-light kisses to the tips of his fingers. “Yes, it is.”

Monroe kissed me. Slowly, deeply. And I kissed him back. I pressed my body closer to his, shifting under the blankets.

“I bet your soul is the moonlight,” Monroe said softly. “I bet it’s the way a calm river looks when it’s soaked in moonlight.”

I grinned. “I don’t think so.”

He gave me another moment of thought. “Well, then I bet it’s something lippy. Maybe a Chihuahua. Yappy little things.”

I punched his shoulder. He winced and laughed.

“I already know what my soul looks like,” I informed him.

His eyebrows rose. “You do?”

Nodding, I said, “You do too.”

He reached out and wrapped his arms around me. He placed a kiss to my forehead, my cheek, my neck. “Is it a sunflower?”

“No.”

“Is it an owl?”

“Nope.”

“I give up. What is it?”

“Ward. Ward is my soul.”

Monroe pulled back. His eyebrows knitted, the corners of his mouth pulled downward into a deep frown. “What?”

I rolled onto my back, put my hands over my face, and laughed. “I knew your face would look like that when I told you. I must’ve imagined it a hundred times.”

“Wait,” he said. He sat up, leaning on his elbow to face me, the blanket slipping down his chest and pooling near his waist. “I don’t understand. How can another person be your soul?”

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “Ward ain’t a person, Monroe. He’s my soul.”

“I don’t… understand.”

I sat up, turned to him. “No one sees him but me and Silvi. And you.” I thought for a moment. “And Miss Annamae. And Mama knows he’s there. She can talk to him. I think he might appear as something different to her.”

Monroe stared at me blankly. “Your soul is a ghost?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think of him as a ghost. I think of him as my soul. He was born into me, and I into him. There’s never been a moment of my life he wasn’t part of me.”

“So.” Monroe watched me quizzically. “Why is your soul able to talk to you? And other people? And how can he just… walk around?”

“Why is the universe infinite? Or finite?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I thought he hated me.”

“You’ve grown on him.”

“Is that because I’ve grown on you?”

“Of course.”

Monroe leaned into me, wrapped me in his arms. He pulled us down so he lay on his back with me against his chest.

“The man with a ghost for a soul,” he said. “Not sure I deserve you.”

He looked at me like no one had ever looked at me before. Maybe like no one else ever would. I thought back to the night prior, finding him standing in the swamp, clothes plastered to his skin, the gun in the waistband of his jeans. His hand reaching out, taking the gun, pressing the barrel to his temple. “Monroe,” I said. “About last night.”

He looked up at me, sunlight touching his face. “I’ve spent a lot of years hurting, Levi. But hurting you is breaking my heart.”

“I had a dream last night. In it, Gran told me to read the back of her spell book that my mama has. I think there’s something in her book that’ll help us.”

Monroe nodded. “As long as it’s nothing dangerous, I’m willing to give it a shot. But at the first sign of anything happening to you—”

“Nothing bad will happen.”

“You can’t promise me that, Levi.”

“Well I am.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. After a few moments of silence, he said, “I wish I could’ve met your gran.”

“Me too,” I replied honestly. “She would’ve told me you were trouble.”

Monroe grinned. “I could’ve told you that.”

“Yeah,” I said. I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against his mouth. “But I think you might be worth it.”

Chapter 17

“I DON’T
think this is a good idea,” Mama said.

“We do not have another choice, Alta,” Ward replied.

Monroe stood next to me. He stared at Ward as though if he stared hard enough, he’d be able to see straight through him.

Mama sighed heavily. She rubbed her temples with her fingers and closed her eyes. “You’re probably right. I don’t like it. This spell book is powerful. Even your gran hated using it for anything, Levi.”

“But she told me in my dream.”

Silvi sat on the couch with Coin’s head in her lap. She petted him gently, quietly.

Since the afternoon she went inside the Poirier house, Silvi had barely said a word. Mama insisted she felt better each day and was talking more as time went on, but I still had a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

What she saw that day changed her. She’d never been afraid of anything before in her life. But now she had a hollow look in her eyes, something vacant, like a part of her was missing.

I wanted to try releasing the curse on Monroe to save his soul, but at the same time I hoped it would free Silvi from the spell she was under.

I tucked Gran’s spell book under my arm.

“When are you going?” Mama asked.

My gaze slid to the window. The sun was beginning to set, the darkness of night taking its place.

“Soon. There’s a full moon tonight. Also, I was meaning to ask if we could borrow the large mirror from the bathroom.”

“Borrow? You plan on bringing it back?”

I smiled. “No.”

She stood up from where she was seated on the sofa. When she walked over to me and took my hand in hers, I squeezed.

“Of course, Levi.” Her voice was quiet. She turned to Monroe, her gaze landing somewhere on his face. “You take care of my boy, Poirier.”

“I will. Always.”

THE THREE
of us left soon after: Ward, Monroe, and I. Monroe carried the mirror, refusing to let anyone else help him.

My duffel bag was slung across my shoulder with my gran’s spell book inside. Hopefully I had everything we needed.