Page 10 of Séance

Jaceson glances around the room, zeros in on the workbench, and immediately crosses the space. I wander after him, watching with interest as he selects tools that look foreign and strange. It’s not that I’ve never seen tools, but they look bigger, heavier, and more complicated in real life than on the internet.

“So Mrs. Killaghan is your grandmother?” Jaceson doesn’t glance up from where he’s piling the tools in a metal box.

Something about his tone makes me feel protective of the older, slightly eccentric woman, and I narrow my eyes. “Choose your words wisely,” I warn, a hint of menace in my tone.

His head whips toward me, and his eyes widen at whatever he sees in my expression. He lifts his hands in a show of surrender. “I meant no insult. I think it’s great that she opened her house to you. She’s been lonely, and I think you being here will be good for her.”

I study him for a second, looking for any signs of deceit, but only find sincerity. I relax slightly, casting him a sheepish look. “Sorry. My life” —I stumble over my thoughts before deciding to gloss over my past— “hasn’t been easy. Nan might be a little odd, but I do love her.” I can’t explain to him that she’s a little strange thanks to the family gift driving her somewhat batty.

His expression softens, a hint of a smile curling his lips, and my heart flutters in my chest. He goes from handsome to dangerous, and I’m suddenly guarded. To distract myself, I grab some of the tools on the bench and grunt under the unexpected weight.

Jaceson accepts my dismissal, grabbing the rest of the tools, and falls into step next to me. As we reenter the house, he leans down and whispers, “I never had any grandparents. I always imagined my grandmother would be like Mrs. Killaghan. Every time I come over to do yard work, she’s always waiting with a smile, a plate of cookies, and lemonade.”

I peer up at him to judge his sincerity, but quickly become sidetracked by the way his lashes highlight his pale blue eyes. No man should have such dark lashes. It’s distracting, and I lose my train of thought.

His blond hair is bleached by the sun, his dark roots making the pale ends appear even brighter. His haircut gives his straight hair a messy look, but it’s done artfully, the strands just long enough to touch the tips of his ears.

Just like his brother, his lean muscles are clearly defined under his clothing. The way his arms flex while carrying the tools is mesmerizing, and I can’t help but wonder how he earned those muscles. I worked out as much as I could in the privacy of my room, downloading training sessions off the internet, but I could only get so far with limited supplies, inadequate food, and a body frequently riddled with injuries.

I learned early that toned muscles heal faster.

When we walk past the kitchen, I see Nan putting together a tray of lemonade and cookies. A glance shows empty cookie dough wrappers littering the garbage, but I don’t mind. It’s more effort than anyone else has ever shown me, and I squash my pleased smile as I follow Jaceson up the stairs.

I nearly trip up the steps when my gaze lands on his firm ass just inches from my face. There is something about the way he fills out his jeans that draws the eye.

How have I never noticed a man’s ass before today?

The flex of muscle and the shift of his body is hypnotizing, and I fight the weird urge to reach out and touch him.

My face burns from the odd impulse, and I look anywhere but at him.

It’s not like I’ve never read about sexual attraction in books. I took care of myself whenever the need arose, but I’ve never understood the need to connect with another person in such a physical way. I thought the books exaggerated teenage hormones, but fuck if I’m not being smothered with them now.

I don’t like the lack of control.

I don’t need a man in my life.

I’ve seen the damage falling in love can do and how it can twist a person up. It breaks them, and I’m already struggling to gather the shattered pieces of my soul. I don’t need the added confusion of boys in my life, no matter how drawn I am to them.

By the time we reach the top of the stairs, I have myself back under control…until I walk into the room.

Jameson has his shirt off, the strong muscles of his back exposed as he bends over to help Gunner assemble my bed. The two of them together, bare skinned and muscles flexing, test my new resolve, and it promptly goes on the fritz. I catch myself gawking and blink when Jaceson passes in front of me to hand out the tools, thankfully breaking my inappropriate fascination.

Now that I’m slowly slipping out of survival mode, I realize I don’t know how to actually live without the stringent rules of my old life. I don’t know what people my age actually do with themselves. In the past, I spent most of my days locked in my room.

Most of the time, I would read books, study my online classes, and research my abilities. I did my best to avoid sleeping for long stretches, because that’s when I’m at my most vulnerable. Hating feeling exposed and unprotected, I worked diligently on my shields to keep any spirits out, but nothing could keep out the threat my father posed.

He often works all hours of the day and night and would expect me to be at his disposal any time he needed my services. If he ever caught me sleeping, he would wake me up with a slap or a dousing of ice water if I was too slow to respond.

Sleeping more than three or four hours at a time is still difficult. At the slightest noise in the middle of the night, I instantly awake, thinking I am under attack. I can still hear his voice yelling at me to get my lazy ass up. Waking in an unfamiliar room only exasperates the issue, and it takes precious seconds to realize that I’m safe and he can’t touch me anymore.

Oh, I know that’s naïve to think.

I don’t doubt he’s already scheming for ways to get me back.

For as much as he hates me, he will never allow me to go.

Deciding to treat the guys as an experiment, I remain by the door and observe how they work. They barely speak beyond a few directions, each of them moving seamlessly around each other. It’s like they can communicate without words.

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