Soul Weaver (9 page)

Chloe McCrea.
Nathaniel made a show of checking the bookstore’s porch for rot while his mind was otherwise occupied—namely by the curious face peering through the window as she tracked his progress.

He glanced up and met her gaze through the glass. Her lips parted as if on a gasp. Holding her gaze for a few heartbeats, her cheeks pinked and she stepped back into the shadows of her store.

His recent contact with her soul proved she still had no bonds in place. He sighed through his disappointment. After the better part of a year, she was no closer to salvation than the first time he’d met her. Or was she?

The lean blonde working the register seemed protective of Chloe when he asked for her. A friendship might start there, and those ties were sometimes the strongest. If she began to care for Chloe, then his problem would be solved.

Chloe’s soul could be harvested, and he could pretend ignorance about the stain he’d caused on it and approach Delphi with the issue. Instead of the soul pits, Delphi would summon his brother, Gavriel, who would escort Chloe’s spirit to Aeristitia for processing.

A neat plan wrapped up but for a lie. He would need some reason for how his soul became tangled with hers, but he could think of a believable excuse.

Nathaniel picked absently at the handrail, disturbed by how quickly the solution had come to him.

“Well?” Chloe stood in the doorway, palms braced on the casing.

Her nearness made their bond jolt to life as it had in the store. Her thoughts streamed into his head. Her memories were a pool of information glittering outside his periphery, one he could tap into if he chose. He hesitated to dig through her mind, hating the idea of violating her further, so he blocked her out until her mental voice was a bare whisper.

“You see this?” He lifted a warped post cap and the wood crumbled.

“How bad is it?” She craned her neck for a better view.

He held his hand out toward her. “Come here and I can show you.”

She backed up a step. “Can’t you just tell me?”

“It won’t take a minute if you come here and look.”

“That’s okay, really. I knew it needed repairs. I was just hoping later rather than sooner.”

He tilted his head to one side and watched as her face inched into shadow. The only part of her left in the sunlight was her hand, where it curled around the doorknob in a white-knuckle grip. Then it vanished too.

Curiosity got the better of him. Forcibly invading her privacy might not appeal to him, but he was willing to eavesdrop on any thoughts she broadcasted.

“Get it together.”
She released a mental groan.
“It’s three steps, maybe four, and just onto the porch. I can do this. If I don’t, this guy will think he can walk all over me. No matter how good-looking he is, I can’t afford that. Neve’s watching too… Damn it.”

“I’d prefer you have a look before I get started,” he called, pushing her to make a decision.

Her head popped around the corner and her teeth worried her bottom lip.

While she debated her answer, he drank in the sight of her. Her soft reddish-brown hair was braided in a tight line from her widow’s peak down the rope of hair brushing below her shoulder blades. Her shirt was starched and her pants pressed. No makeup, but he liked her bare face.

She had freckles dotting the bridge of her nose and speckling her cheeks. She gave him a strange look, as if wondering what he found so interesting, and damn if he couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” A frustrated line puckered her brow.

“I’m only being polite.” He chuckled as one of her eyebrows cocked in disbelief. “I’m trying to sweet-talk you into giving me a job, remember?”

“How could I forget?” She tried staring down her nose at him, but it didn’t work well, given the foot and a half in height he had on her five-foot-nothing frame. “You’re laying it on pretty thick.”

“You’re here, talking to me.” He flashed his teeth. “That must mean it’s working.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, appearing calm and collected, but inside her head, her thoughts were a black jumble of uncertainty.
“Here goes nothing. I’ll look, smile, and approve. It’ll take five minutes, tops.”
Her hand shook when she leaned out the door and reached for the porch railing. Once her fingers made contact, she exhaled as if that small feat had drained her.

Try as he might, Nathaniel couldn’t figure out what the problem was. “Do you need help?”

She shook her head and took a half step. The toes of her tennis shoes rested on the porch while her weight balanced over the threshold. Her grip on the rail tightened and she pulled herself a full step onto the porch. When she glanced up at him with stark pride in her eyes, it was his undoing.

He met her halfway and tried not to spook her into retreating into the store. He offered her the post cap.

“Um, that’s okay.” She scrunched up her nose. “I can see just fine while you’re holding it.”

“The other posts are in the same shape.” He backed off and gave her room to breathe. He descended the stairs, stood in the center of the bottommost step, and bounced a little. “You can see the steps are shot. The planks are warped. This can’t be fixed.” She flinched when he said, “It’ll have to be demolished and rebuilt, all of it.”

“I knew I kept putting it off for a reason.” She sighed. “All right. How much is this going to cost me?”

“I need a few more measurements; then I’ll call around and get an estimate on supplies.”

“You can’t give me a ballpark figure?” She was clearly bracing herself for the worst.

“I’d rather give you an accurate quote the first time.” He needed time to acclimate himself. He hadn’t done a project like this one in decades. The price of raw material and labor would have to be researched, so his estimate slid into that comfortable place between too good to be true and scalping her. Plus he didn’t want to give Chloe a reason to dial up Handel’s and discover Nathaniel was borrowing on the reputation of a local company to put her at ease.

“All right.” She was back to nibbling on her lip.

Still unsure what to make of her odd behavior, Nathaniel tested his theory. “Can you hold the measuring tape for me?”

Panic widened her eyes. “I… I need to get back to work.” She spun on her heel and bolted through the door. A second passed and then she shoved her startled employee through it.

“What did you say to her?” The blonde jumped as the door slammed shut behind her.

Nathaniel said dryly, “I asked her if she’d like to hold my measuring tape.”

“Nice.” The blonde snorted. “Will anyone do or was that a Chloe-specific request?”

“I was perfectly serious.” Metal glinted in his hand when he wiggled the silver tape measure.

The woman didn’t answer. She was too busy staring over her shoulder into the store.

“Should you check on her?” Tension radiated through his bond with Chloe. Nathaniel was seconds from hunting her down if this woman didn’t. He smoothed a hand over his scalp. “She seemed rattled. Is she okay?”

The woman’s brows knitted together, but whatever occurred to her, she didn’t share.

Suspicion tightened his gut, but she wasn’t a mark, and her secrets were her own. Whatever she hid from him was none of his business. He grimaced. Unless it involved Chloe, then it was definitely his business.

His conversational skills with humans—or the opposite sex for that matter—were rusty. Still, he might learn something new about Chloe if he got her talking.

“You’ll have to forgive me.” He forced a smile. “I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

“Nathaniel Berwyn.” When his eyes narrowed, she added, “Voices carry.”

“I’m sure they do.” He would have to remember that. “And you are?”

“Neve.” She didn’t offer a last name or anything else of value. She was being cautious.

He would have to try harder.

“This place is falling apart.” He slapped the post cap back in place, and debris rained onto the ground. “Chloe’s lucky there haven’t been any accidents.” When Neve kept silent, he figured she must agree with him. Giving her a smile, he did his level best to be charming. “Would you mind helping out? I’d like to get this project approved and started as soon as possible.”

She answered with an uncertain nod. “Sure.” She walked over and took the hooked end of the tape and set it against the board where he indicated.

“Is Chloe always so…?” He cast about for the right word. “Skittish?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Their eyes met and understanding passed between them.

She knew more than she let on, but her loyalty lay with Chloe, not with him.

Something about the firm set of her lips as she considered him made him think it was more than token concern making her comb him over with such sharp focus.

His skin had flushed under Chloe’s assessment, but this woman’s attention didn’t stir his curiosity on a base level, only his desire to know more about her role in Chloe’s life.

Since the women worked together in close quarters, Neve was his best chance at getting Chloe emotionally attached to someone. He was heartened by the fact that she appeared to care for her already.

His larger worry at the moment was she might not be the only one becoming attached.

Humans were fragile and finite. Chloe would die in time, even without his interference, and he would forget her. Glancing up, he caught her staring down at him from the second-story window with her small nose all but pressed against the glass.

His gut clenched. He would forget her all right, when Dis froze over.

Chloe plucked at the ruffled edge of Nathaniel’s estimate until a layer of confetti covered her desk. Using the end of her pencil, she prodded the fist-sized chunk of wood he’d brought her as further proof she was doing the right thing. When she stabbed at the hunk, the lead sank clear through to her desk. Not good.

It was official. Her porch was crumbling.

Accidents happened, but ignoring this amount of decay would be negligent when customer safety was too important to begrudge the unplanned expense. Not to mention repairs were the responsible thing to do, and she was nothing if not pragmatic. Besides, it would only take one customer who paid more attention to their phone conversation than their footing, and she would have a lawsuit on her hands.

Pine porches lasted about a decade, so hers had outlasted its life expectancy. Hard to believe she’d been eighteen the last time the sagging frame saw a hammer and nails. Graduation loomed around the corner for her and Piedmont’s other teens. Her parents had rushed the construction order after they hit on the idea of a lavish party for her thrown in view of the town.

Their intentions were good. Party in plain sight, lure in kids her own age with bright lights and finger food. But as fate would have it, they picked the same night as the local high school’s senior prom.

Standing by the uneaten buffet had given Chloe a front-row seat for the parade of convertibles balling tires down Main Street. Prom princesses wore their sequined best while snuggling their tuxedoed princes. Thanks to the fifteen-mile-per-hour speed limit, she’d gotten an eyeful as life passed her by.

She hadn’t thought of that night in years. Some combination of the porch and how Nathaniel looked standing there dredged up the unhappy memory. She would have given her eyeteeth back then for a guy like him to sweep her off her feet. But he wasn’t her long-lost prince charming, and she was nobody’s princess.

Focus on the problem, not the hot guy who would make a nice lawn ornament for a few weeks.

Okay, okay. She was focused. Repairs were a given. So… hiring Nathaniel would
really
be the responsible thing to do. And while he was at it, he could fix her busted window and make some much-needed repairs to the bookshelves. Tapping her pencil against her desk, she wondered if he knew anything about plumbing…

“Oh, ick.” She recoiled as a bug climbed from the soft wood and scuttled across her desk. Taking off her shoe, she whacked it hard enough to draw Neve’s attention.

“Everything okay in here?” She walked from the counter to the office and leaned a shoulder against the door.

“I think I’m going to have to add a pest control touch-up to my to-do list.” Chloe held up her shoe with the offending bug mashed on its heel.

Neve eyed the bug, but her face held a faraway expression.

“Is everything okay?” Not that Chloe had any experience with giving personal advice, but she could listen. Sometimes a sympathetic ear would have made a world of difference to her.

“Yeah,” she said at length. “I was thinking about something.”

With the bug scraped in the trash and her shoe back on her foot, Chloe scooted forward. “Anything I can help with?”

“It’s more that I wanted to ask you something.” She glanced up. “Personal.”

“Okay.” Worst-case scenario, Chloe could always fake a potty break if the question was more than her limited life experience could handle. “Shoot.”

“Have you heard of Dem Bones?” Neve prompted. “From down the street?”

“Sure.” The place was a local barbeque institution. “What do you want to know?”

“I got some good news earlier today, and I kind of wanted to celebrate.” Neve straightened and ran a hand down the front of her softly faded blouse. “I was wondering if you’d like to share an order of ribs or something.”

Chloe could count on one hand how many times she had been asked to go out with a friend. This was number one in her adult life, and her gut ached with the hollow acceptance of the fact that she would have to say no.

“I can’t.”

She felt about two inches tall for begging off another invitation and knew from experience if she said no often enough, they’d stop coming. Stepping onto her porch was one thing, but the five blocks between here and Dem Bones might as well have been five hundred miles. Her palm scrubbed over her pants pocket and slid across the almost imperceptible bump nestled beneath the heavy fabric seam.

“I saw you earlier.” Neve rocked back on her heels. “You didn’t look comfortable going outside. Was it the handyman? Did he make you uncomfortable?”