Mystically Bound (Frostbite, Book Three) (2 page)

Did I even have a choice?

At my silence and obvious hesitation,
Gretchen smiled. She hadn’t guided me wrong yet. I firmly believed
she never would. Besides, if I didn’t help them, I’d lose my ride
into the Netherworld. I didn’t even need to think it over. “All
right. I’m in.” I hesitated. “Wait. This isn’t a blood promise, is
it?”

Once Wayde left the living room, the next few minutes
were spent in complete silence with Amelia smiling and Gretchen
examining her finger nails. Finally, when Wayde returned, he held a
small box. He strode toward the big bay window against the far wall
to the cleared space on the wooden floor. There, he knelt and
placed one red pillar candle upright and ready to light, then two
black candles in front of it to form a triangle.

“Come here,” he stated.

With a nod of encouragement from Gretchen, I
hesitantly approached Wayde, watching him enter the triangle. Once
there, I stopped just outside, since no one had yet commented on
the blood ritual question. “Okay, what next?”

“Stand beside me.”

I scrunched my nose as I crossed into the
triangle. After I settled next to him, he handed me a piece of
paper. “When I tell you, read these lines.”

He bent and lit the candles from
left-to-right, ending with the red candle. When he stood, he
reached into his pocket and took out a black ribbon. “Hold out your
right arm.” I complied and he placed his left arm over top of mine,
then wrapped us both in the ribbon.

Once finished, he gestured toward the paper.
“Now read the passage with me.”

I raised the note, angling it so Wayde could
see it, and we read in unison:

Arm to arm now seals the deal;

Tight enclosure we each now feel;

Our word is true and not to break;

We speak these words: a promise we
make.

I lifted my head, gazing at Wayde, and didn’t
feel anything different. Maybe it didn’t work. “Is that it?”

“State your promise.”

Taking a quick look at Gretchen, she nodded
me on, so I turned back to Wayde. “I promise to find Alexander’s
ghost and talk with him.”

Wayde drew in a deep breath, as if it pained
him to speak. “Once you succeed in finding Alexander, I promise to
instruct you on how to cross into the Netherworld.”

The second
his mouth shut, a shiver started at the top of
my head and cascaded down my body to my toes—almost as if cold
water had been poured through my veins. “Oh, that’s just
weird.”

At the silence around me,
I glanced to Gretchen, and she was restraining her chuckle, while
Wayde was glaring at me. I hurried to correct my error. “I mean to
say, the spell worked, right?” Insulting him wasn’t part of my
plan, but I didn’t much mind, and I sure as hell wouldn’t
apologize.

His
eyes narrowed. “Yes, our promise is now sealed.” He
unwrapped the ribbon from our arms before he blew out the candles.
With his right foot, he moved the red candle aside, then he exited
the triangle.

I followed in a
damn jiffy.

The moment I stepped away
from the
candles,
Amelia rushed
forward and had me in her arms so fast, I squeaked. “Thank you,
Tess. I didn’t know if you would help us. You know, with your past
with Dane, with all that happened…”

I shoved her away from me, took one huge step
back, scowling at
that
name. “Dane?”

Her mouth dropped open, eyes widened, and
fright rested hard in her gaze. “I…”

“She’s my wife,” a deep voice said behind
me.

Gretchen cursed.

Wayde frowned. “What is the problem?”

I sucked in a harsh breath and glanced over
my shoulder. Dane, the Devil, leaned against the doorframe, arms
folded. Well, that’s not entirely true. A human couldn’t pull off
the eerie reality of a demon, but Dane held a close second to a
spawn of Hell.

This
man happened to be the reason I
found myself in this mess, since his interference led to Kipp’s
disappearance. He thought it wrong that I didn’t allow Kipp to
cross over, and he had taken it upon himself to ensure Kipp
crossed. He’d kissed me in front of Kipp, determined to put a rift
between us. Now, of course, we knew Kipp couldn’t cross over
because he wasn’t dead, so Dane’s evil plan had backfired.

Regardless, I hadn’t forgiven him. I never
would.

Gretchen grabbed my hand and yanked me to her
side, either to comfort me or to stop me from ripping Dane’s throat
out. I gritted my teeth, restraining my rage. “What are you doing
here?”

The side of Dane’s mouth arched, appearing to
lighten his face, but the Devil couldn’t portray goodness. His
crystal blue eyes held coldness that I suspected equaled my own.
His blond hair was messier, hanging over his forehead and not
slicked back as I remembered it.

Pushing off the doorframe, he approached.
“Alexander is my father-in-law.” The Devil settled in next to
Amelia, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’re staying with Wayde
until his death is solved.”

While I didn’t give a flying flip about
him
, one thing I did care about was his marital status. Kipp
had been slightly jealous of Dane, or so I thought for a while.
Turned out, Kipp didn’t trust Dane and he shouldn’t have. Dane was
a nasty bug I wanted to stomp. “Why didn’t you tell us you had a
wife?”

Dane’s gaze became ice-cold. “My personal
life isn’t your concern.”

The rage seething in my veins burned hotter.
“
Your
personal life isn’t
my
business?” My fists
tightened, ready to deck this man right up to the damn moon. “Oh, I
see, but it’s all right that you happily fucked with mine?”

Dane’s eyes narrowed into slits, and his lips
parted, no doubt ready to offer another round of insults, when
Amelia interjected, “Stop it, Dane. She’s here to help.”

After a long staring contest I wouldn’t dare
lose, Dane turned away from me to his wife and sighed. In the same
moment, Gretchen squeezed my hand, probably because my limbs
trembled.

Jerking my head toward Gretchen, I spotted
her troubled expression and I didn’t need further confirmation. I
was stuck between fucked and royally fucked. I had bound myself to
the promise with Wayde. As much as I wanted to leave and refuse to
help Dane, considering Alexander was family to him, I couldn’t. But
something else at the moment held an equal concern. “Did you know
about this?”

“I told Wayde to tell Dane to stay away.”
Gretchen glared at Wayde before looking back at me with a softer
expression. “Regardless that he clearly ignored me, Dane doesn’t
have to be involved and you
need
their help. They will have
answers for Kipp. There is no other way, Tess.”

I did need their assistance—badly—but my mind
remained fixated on Dane. “If he doesn’t have to be involved in
this, then why
is
he here?”

She frowned at the enemy. “Why, indeed?”

“Alexander was
my
family,” Dane
retorted with a bite to his voice. “I’m staying in this house until
we find answers for him. Deal with it.”

Pulling out of Gretchen’s hand, I shook my
arms out, shedding my need to castrate Dane.
You’re doing this
for Kipp
. Besides, what choice did I have now? The promise to
Wayde couldn’t be undone, even if now I regretted doing the binding
spell. “Fine. You’re here. I can’t change that. But stay the hell
out of my way.” I pointed at Dane, hoping my finger looked like a
knife ready to slit his throat. “I mean it.”

He scoffed. “Not an issue.”

“We’re grateful,” Amelia interjected with a
smile her husband didn’t extend, and tears filled her eyes.
“Anything you offer can help us.”

Dane glanced down at her and all the coldness
directed at me melted away to a warm expression. While normally I’d
have a gooey moment, it boiled my blood to witness their love. Dane
had her, I lost Kipp because of him, and he caused my heart to
shatter. His happiness infuriated me.

“She’ll find him,” Dane said softly.

Amelia wiped her cheeks and smiled at him,
then at me. “I know.”

The sadness drifting along her expression
touched a part of me I wanted to hide in Dane’s presence—my
kindness. I cursed under my breath, hating I couldn’t be a
cold-hearted bitch. “I’ll do what I can, Amelia.” Gratefulness
filled her features and I disliked that I couldn’t hate her. I
wanted to, simply because she associated herself with Dane. “Where
do I start?”

“Dane has felt his presence in the swamp,”
Amelia said, continuing to brush the fallen tears off her cheeks.
“It's faint, but he still lingers there.”

I sighed at the daunting situation, for more
reasons than the obvious. “Do you have any rain boots?”

All notes of misery vanished from Amelia’s
face, replaced by an arched lip. “Rain boots?”

At any other time, her bemused expression
might amuse me, but the seriousness now erased the funny. “If you
expect me to ruin my Jimmy Choos trudging around in a swamp,
magical promise or not, the deal is off.”

Amelia considered me a moment, and then
looked at Dane. “Get her boots.” At his answering scowl, she gave
him a
look,
making me want to do a fist pump. “Now,
Dane.”

His death-look shot to me before he left the
room.

Amelia sighed, watching her husband vanish
into the hallway, then she turned to me. “You’re a guest in this
house. My father would have welcomed you, so I want you to be
comfortable. If you need anything, do ask.”

I wanted to point out I didn’t intend to stay
in
this
house, especially if Dane remained. I intended to go
find Alexander in the damn swamp, discover who killed him, then get
what I needed and get out. But why bother wasting my breath?

Besides, it seemed almost wrong to be cruel
to Amelia considering her grief. Perhaps she wouldn’t be an enemy,
considering she appeared to be on my side. If Dane pissed me off,
I’d send Amelia after him. My advantage was she needed me to find
her father. Like the saying goes,
payback is a bitch
.

If I had my way, Dane would become Amelia’s
bitch before I left Louisiana.

I should’ve stayed inside or refused the idea
altogether, with or without the rain boots. The night was eerily
dark with no light in the yard except the spotlights pointed at the
mansion.

With a sigh, I yanked myself away from the
stunning house in all its Victorian beauty, and glanced at the
stream of light offered by my flashlight. Gretchen swept her beam
of light from left-to-right. Why? I had no idea; she couldn’t see a
ghost anyway. Lucky her.

I had to admit, having her next to me was
comforting. Like hell, I’d go out into a spooky swamp alone.
Gretchen would remain glued to my side, since right now, I didn’t
trust anyone here, and the oddest sense of worry engulfed me.
Creepy sensations like icy fingertips crawled up my spine. Not a
real shock—I never did well with scary places.

As we trudged through the wide open yard, I
cursed Amelia’s rain boots. They were slightly too big and not only
did my feet slide around, but the tops came up to my knees, since
she was an inch or two taller than me. Each step had me clenching
my toes to keep the boots in place as they squished into the damp
grass below.

“Do you see him?” Gretchen asked.

I glanced away from the grass lit up by my
flashlight and focused on her. “Of course not. I can barely see
anything.” Turning back to the yard, I scanned through the dark
night and inhaled the sweet scents of nature. The house was to my
back and the yard was stuffed full of big, healthy trees. But as we
drew closer to the swamp, stagnant water made the air less
pleasant.

When we reached the edge of the swamp, I
stood where the water met the dirt. My flashlight lit up the water,
showing tiny fish swimming about. Endless plants surrounded the
swamp, all giving off a lovely fresh scent, even if the swamp
itself smelled musky. A bullfrog made a low croaking noise
somewhere in the water, but being a pitch-black night, I couldn’t
see it sitting atop a lily pad.

“Hello,” I called, feeling silly.
“Alexander?” I paused a moment, but when only silence greeted me, I
added, “If you are out here, why you picked a gross swamp to stay
at is totally beyond me.”

“We’re not Alexander,” a feminine voice
said.

Whipping around, goose bumps trailed my arms,
and I spotted three ghosts behind me, two men and one woman.
Terrific!
“I need to speak to Alexander. You will have to
wait. So, get in line and take a ticket. I’ll get back to you when
I can.”

A young man, who was maybe in his early
twenties, gasped in surprise. “Did she hear you, Victoria?” His
hair was messy, spiked in complete disorder, and his brown eyes
were soft. The gentle contours of his face portrayed youth and his
slender body told me he didn’t eat well before he died.

Victoria nodded frantically at him, clutching
at the front of her nineteenth century white blouse. “Yes. Yes.
Sammy, she heard me.”

The older man stepped forward, looking me
over from head-to-toe. No doubt he’d died centuries ago, since his
breeches and boots with tailored jacket looked ridiculous next to
Sammy’s casual clothes from the eighties. “How can you see us?”

“Oh, no, we are
not
doing this,” I
snapped. “I have enough ghosts to help, thank you very much. I
can’t deal with you right now.”

Victoria’s blue eyes widened. “Can you help
us…leave here?”

“Yes, I can, but not now.”

While I felt bad for them—I really did—I also
didn’t have the patience to take on anything else. The moment I
opened the doors of communication they’d suck me in with their sad
story. I had officially reached my limit.