The Resurrection of Josephine (3 page)

Martin was stunned by her show of power, but Noah seemed even angrier than before.

"We do not have time for this.” Martin could feel the energy radiating off Rumer's body. “If Josephine has garnered enough power to get out of her crypt, then she could very well be able to slip the bonds of the cemetery soon. And if that happens, then she'll go looking or a fresh body in which to resurrect herself."

"Nice,” Martin said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Your grandmother bound her there once. Have her do it again."

"She's dead,” Rumer said softly. “That's why the spell was broken. We meant to go to the cemetery before she died, transfer the spell's power to me so I would be the guardian, but grandmother died suddenly, a month ago."

"I'm sorry,” Martin said, truly meaning it. “What about your mother? Wouldn't she know what to do?"

"My mother ran off when I was a child,” Rumer replied, her voice devoid of emotion. “I have two other friends who know the craft, but neither of them thinks they are powerful enough to help."

"I'm not a witch,” Martin said. “I'm a medium, a spiritualist if you will. I can talk to the dead, but I can't predict the future, and I don't have any other psychic abilities."

She leaned toward him. “You can talk to my grandmother, though, can't you?"

"It's possible, unless she's crossed over. Then it's doable, but harder.” Martin glanced at Noah, whose anger had faded. He was looking at Rumer with concern.

"What do you need? Let's do it right now.” Rumer stood back up, walking toward the kitchen as if she would find whatever was necessary for séance.

"I can't,” Martin said softly. “Not today. I'm weak from this morning. She drained me. I need to bathe, and sleep. I'm sorry."

"Of course.” Rumer came to stand next to him. “I'm just worried she'll get out, and someone will die, and it will be my fault."

"It won't be your fault.” Martin and Noah said at the same time. The two men exchanged glances, then Martin looked back at Rumer.

"Answer me this. If we succeed in binding her back in her crypt, then what happens? She's strong enough that when her body disintegrated, her spirit lingered. What makes you think it will take this time? You'll have to find a new guardian when your time comes to die, and the cycle continues from there. Or what happens if, heaven forbid, you're killed in an accident or something? Why don't you find a way to kill her?"

Noah stepped closer. “For that to happen, she'd have to resurrect herself into a new body, and the new body would have to die."

"That sucks,” Martin said, nodding. “Hard to kill just a spirit. But may I remind you it didn't work last time?"

"I know,” Rumer whispered. “I'm working on it."

"Terrific,” Martin replied. “If it's any consolation, her fight with me today probably drained her, too. And the body they buried today doesn't have a spirit attached to it. Mr. Jackson's already crossed, so she can't feed on his energy."

"That's good to hear,” Rumer said. “When can you do the séance?"

"Tomorrow night,” Martin said. “I have several friends who can sit with us, to strengthen the circle and help guarantee success in contacting your grandmother."

Rumer nodded, then stood, and surveyed the room. “Where's the extra bedroom?"

"Excuse me?” Martin looked at her in frustration, his ears hearing what she was saying, but his mind refusing to believe it.

"Your guest room? We'll sleep there."

"Uh ... no.” He indicated the door. “You came in through the front, you said, you can leave the same way. Call me in the morning."

Rumer sighed, then ran her fingers through over her tightly bound hair. “There's no couch big enough for us to sleep on, and if you don't have an extra bed, we're just going to have to sleep with you."

Martin snorted out a laugh. “In your dreams, baby. I don't have a guest bed because I don't like people staying over. I like to be alone sometimes, and this is one of those times. Which means I want to sleep alone. No offense to your beautiful self, or to your wonderful lover here, but I'm not the mood for company. So I repeat: You can leave the same way you came in."

"You're kidding, right? Josephine is my responsibility, and there's no way in hell I'm leaving you alone for her to attack in the middle of the night."

"She can't make it past the cemetery gates, remember?"

Rumer took a step closer to him, and Martin could see real fear in her eyes. “So you say, but I don't trust the bitch one iota. If you want us to leave, call the cops. If not, show us the way to your bedroom, cause we're not leaving."

"Then you can sleep on the fucking floor.” Martin headed for his room. “Use a couch pillow if you want. Good night."

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Rumer awoke cuddled between two large male bodies. She snuggled down, savoring their heat, and the fact that when she moved, she could feel both of them stir. There had been quite a fight when she and Noah had followed Martin into his bedroom.

Despite all his bravado, and his screaming, he'd finally skinned down to his boxers and said fiercely, “I don't give a crap what you do anymore. I'm tired and want to go to sleep.” He'd crawled under the covers and within minutes, he'd done just that.

Now she lifted the sheet and looked down. A nice-sized erection greeted her, tenting out the material of Martin's boxers.

Stop it,
she chided herself,
there's no time for this.
Still, she continued to stare, her hand itching to cup him and gently squeeze. After she and Noah had stripped to their undies and joined Martin on the big bed, the medium had stayed mostly to his side. Until the middle of the night when he'd turned and spooned Rumer against him, his hand stroking her hip. He'd caressed her side, cupping her bare breast, and gently squeezed her nipple.

She'd been awake, but she hadn't fought him. After all, she'd forced herself into the man's bed, who was she to deny him a little feel. Plus he'd been asleep, and she hadn't wanted to wake him. He didn't seem to mind that she was a woman, which made her wonder about his sexual preference.

She and Noah had been lovers for years, and at one point they'd invited another man to their bed. They'd hoped it could be something permanent, but it hadn't worked out that way, and in the end, things had gone back to just the two of them.

Still, she knew Noah sometimes craved a man's touch, and she hated to deny him. She turned her head to study Martin Vandreen. Tall and athletic, with shoulder-length dark hair and beautiful green eyes. His lips were full, and she imagined kissing them. Imagined him kissing Noah while she was sandwiched between them.

She often woke up aroused, but it was generally because Noah woke with a hard-on, and wanted to play. This morning it was the heat of both men, the combination of their skin against hers, the pull of Martin's psyche, despite the words he'd exchanged with Noah last night while they were both trying to prove they were top dog.

She glanced at Martin's chest, bare except for the silver Eye of Horus amulet, which hung off a leather thong. She ran her hands up to her neck, where the identical amulet hung. Noah had one, too. The Eye of Horus was said to be helpful in warding off the evil eye, and she wondered if it had come into play yesterday, if it had helped Martin escape Josephine's clutches.

"Handsome, isn't he?” Noah's voice was soft in her ear.

"Thank you."

Martin's voice made her jump, and then she laughed. “I didn't know you were awake.” She turned to where he now lay on his back, making his hard-on even more evident.

"Right, I'm in bed with two people I don't know, one of them who has looked at my cock, twice...” he stopped speaking when Noah moved over her enough to pull back the sheet and study Martin's boxers. “Make that both of them."

Rumer smiled at him, happy he wasn't upset that they were checking him out.

"I'm not having sex with you,” Martin said, standing quickly. He did nothing to hide his hard-on though, and she smiled.

"I—um, we—can take care of that for you.” She pointed to Martin's cock.

"Thanks for the offer, but no. Maybe some other time."

"Is it me?” Noah held up his hands. “If you're not into guys..."

"I like guys just fine,” Martin replied. “I like women, too, and I'm happy to see we're all on the same page, but the fact remains I know nothing about either of you. You busted into my house, and you forced your way into my bed. So thanks, but no thanks. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just go in the bathroom and jerk off."

"Why don't we all play together,” Noah said. “I'm hard, too, and I know my baby's wet. Mutual masturbation might help us forget the horrible way we met last night."

Martin snorted out a laugh, and Rumer swallowed a smile. “Doubt it,” he said. “Nothing's going to make me forget that, not even a jerk off session."

Still, he didn't move toward the bathroom and Rumer took that as a good sign. “Are you sure?"

She watched his face as he contemplated the idea, then rejected it, then reconsidered again. His body wanted it, she knew. It was his mind that rebelled, saying it wasn't right, that they weren't to be trusted.

"Have you never slept with anyone you just met?” She kept her voice soft and even.

"Sure I have,” Martin said. “But it's usually at night, after a few drinks, not the morning after I meet them."

"We'll make a rule,” Noah said. “Nobody touches anyone else, not even Rumer and me."

"Look, I appreciate the offer, but no.” He shook his head and moved toward the bathroom. Rumer watched him as he disappeared behind the door, closing it firmly behind him.

This run in with Martin Vandreen could be the best thing to ever happen to her and Noah, or the worst.

Martin opened the refrigerator and winced. When he'd come out of the shower, Noah had been gone, and Rumer had run into the bathroom immediately, shutting the door behind her without saying a word. He supposed it hadn't been very polite of him to hog the only bathroom before his houseguests got a chance, even if they had been forced on him

But if he'd stayed in the bedroom one more second, he would have dropped his shorts and joined in their plan for a pleasure circle, and he wasn't ready for that, no matter how hard his cock had protested. It was simple for them to propose it, since they were lovers already, but for him, it wasn't easy just to jump in. The whole time he'd been in the shower he'd wondered if they were making love.

When he came out to find Noah gone, he'd decided they hadn't. The trust level for them had gone up, too, since there was no lock on his bathroom door, and neither of them had come in uninvited.

Of course, that didn't make everything all right. He's spent more than an hour screaming at them last night, trying to get them out of his house. Rumer had refused, and Noah had backed her up. Finally, he'd just given up and gone to bed, only to find them nestled against him this morning.

He knew they'd been right, though. Josephine could have followed his signature, found him and attacked him. Having someone here with him after yesterday's troubling events was a good idea.

He sighed heavily and shut the refrigerator door, then turned to the coffeemaker, which churned along in its quest to provide him—them—with morning brew. He had enough milk and sugar, if needed, but he had no real food in the house. He generally ate out, or invited himself to partake of Fletch's delicious cooking. And since he contributed money to the food bill at his friends’ household, they didn't mind, even if they did tease him about being a mooch.

Thinking of the trio made him glance at the clock. Quinn would have already left for work, but Fletch and Dev would be around. He needed to tell them last night's tale, get their help with tonight's séance.

The front door opened, and Noah came in balancing two large sacks and a cardboard tray filled with three coffee cups. Martin rushed to help him, taking the tray and setting it down on the table.

"Café au lait and beignets,” Martin said, taking an appreciative whiff of the air.

"Rumer's addicted,” Noah replied. “The clerks were surprised I bought three servings this morning, instead of two. I think they thought we got lucky last night"

Martin laughed softly. “Travel mugs, so the coffee's still hot."

Noah nodded, then cleared his throat. “Listen, about ... I'm sorry about...” he pointed toward the bedroom, “...tackling you."

"Me too,” Martin said. “Don't forget what I said, though. In a fair fight—"

"Coffee.” Rumer's soft voice broke into the conversation, and she grabbed one of the cups, then pointed to the bags. “How come they're not open yet?"

"I just got back,” Noah replied, tearing apart one of the white sacks.

Martin took down three plates, and they filled them high with the sugary treats. “Let's eat outside. Janice has a table set up out there, and she's already gone to work this morning."

They settled themselves at the table, enjoying the pleasantly cool New Orleans morning. Martin hid a smile as Rumer dug into her food, scarfing down one beignet in what he thought was record time before grabbing another one.

"It's the sugar,” Noah said, taking a bite of his own. “She's a sugar addict."

"I like the energy it brings,” she said, licking her fingers. “Why can't we do the séance this morning?"

"We could, but I'd like a little more time to prepare. Did your grandmother live here in town?"

"Yes, over on Dauphine. I haven't had the heart to clean it out, yet."

Martin nodded. “We should do it there, where she's connected."

"All right."

"What was her name?” Martin took a sip of coffee.

"Lola."

"We'll need some candles, and if you have something of hers to hold, something that meant a lot to her, it will help to contact her spirit."

Rumer nodded, then focused on something behind Martin's back. He turned to find Fletch standing there, holding a tray containing four coffee mugs. Quinn and Dev stood beside him holding white bags that Martin knew contained more beignets.

"Looks like we're late with our delivery,” Dev said with a laugh.