His grip on Wooly’s arm was definitely as tight and strong as a demon’s.
“Okay,” Wooly whispered. “Okay. I called him. I did what you wanted. Right?”
“You will welcome him,” the guy growled. “You will keep him with you.”
“Okay.”
“You won’t say anything about me to anyone.” The gray-eyed dude put a finger on Wooly’s ear, and Wooly tensed, thinking he might tear it off. “No matter where I am, I can hear when someone is talking about me. Do you understand?”
“Yeah!” Wooly gasped. “Yeah, man, no way would I tell anyone.”
“Good,” the guy said. He finally let go of Wooly’s arm, and Wooly cradled it in his other hand. “Do what I told you. I’ll be watching.” He stepped out onto the dark balcony, and he closed the French doors behind him.
Wooly didn’t dare go and peer out through the glass onto the balcony, or turn the light on to see whether the demonic guy was gone. He felt like the guy was just standing out there, watching him, and might pounce on him and kill him any second. He was too scared to move.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alexander had tracked the girl all the way to Fallen Oak, South Carolina, which made him smirk. He’d spent a previous lifetime here, infusing the place with his energy, really having fun with it. It only made sense that it would attract others of his kind. He should have checked up on this place. But he was into bigger things now, bigger experiments far south and west of here. Things he needed her to power.
He sat inside the empty, never-sold house in Ashleigh’s cul-de-sac, watching out through the window curtains in the master bedroom. He could watch them through the side windows. He’d been occupying this house a couple of days, curious to watch the convocation underway.
There was the fear-giver and his opposite, the love-charmer.
And then the third person. Esmeralda, Alexander’s opposite, the one who could listen to the dead, while Alexander could command them. He watched her closely.
She was infatuated with the fear-giver, it seemed. Alexander had watched them in the kitchen. When they’d finally gone upstairs together, he guessed they would be distracted for a while, especially with the stereo blasting downstairs.
So he’d crept into the house and planted a couple of tiny microphones here and there. Since then, he’d sat here in the empty house and listened to their conversations. Interesting stuff.
Tonight, the fear-giver had left town on an errand, but the two girls were here.
He tore open a yogurt-granola bar—he’d bought a case of them, and he’d been living mostly on those and some cheese crackers while he spied on the others. He stretched out on the bare hardwood floor, closed his eyes, and listened over his headphones.
“What’s all that?” Esmeralda asked.
Ashleigh was coming down the stairs with a big wicker basket stuffed with lotions, gels and big, fluffy pink towels rolled up inside.
“Since he’s off doing his thing, I thought we could really girl out tonight,” Ashleigh said. “I’ve got stuff for your feet, face, and hair, and I’ve got every single Hugh Grant movie on Blu-Ray.”
Esmeralda laughed. “Whatever you want to do.”
“This is what I want to do.” She dropped onto the couch next to Esmeralda and put a hand on her, and poured the love into her. “I want to thank you for bringing me back to life, and keeping me alive. I don’t even know how to say how much I appreciate it, and how deeply grateful I am to you.”
“It’s okay,” Esmeralda said. “I’m glad I brought you back. It’s been a great time.”
“You may not know this, but there are some real benefits to my touch, and I want to share them with you.” Ashleigh said. She stood up and unrolled one of the fluffy pink towels across the couch. “Lie down on your stomach.”
Esmeralda looked puzzled, but she was still smiling. She stretched out facedown on the pink towel. “What are you going to do?”
“You’re going to get the best thing in the world.” Ashleigh uncorked a bottle of expensive organic lotion. “An Ashleigh massage.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. People used to beg me for these.” Ashleigh lifted the back of Esmeralda’s shirt and hiked it up to her shoulders.
“Hey!” Esmeralda said.
“I’m going to use my best lotion, too.” Ashleigh unhooked Esmeralda’s bra. “It’s got royal bee jelly, and like twenty South American herbs.” She spread the lotion on her fingers and began to rub Esmeralda’s back. She poured her special energy into it, infusing Esmeralda’s deep muscle tissue with love.