What Remains

Page

What Remains

ISBN # 978-1-78430-773-8

©Copyright Bailey Bradford 2015

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright September 2015

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz and Rebecca Scott

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Southern Spirits

WHAT REMAINS

Bailey Bradford

Book six in the Southern Spirits series

Severo and Laine thought they had it all. They had great friends, each other—and the spirits of McKinton, TX.

Until Sev gets a call from his sister asking to visit. He’s been the family pariah for most of his life. This sudden offering is something Sev had never even dared to hope for. Laine is suspicious but supportive. Then their world is altered when all the spirits in McKinton vanish on the same day.

Missing spirits, a coven of Wiccans, and a sister and her family all hit McKinton at the same time. Laine doesn’t know who has stolen the spirits, but he’s going to find out.

Was it the well-meaning Wiccans? Or is there something more sinister at work in McKinton?

Dedication

For everyone who loves this series, thank you.

Trademarks Acknowledgment

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Miata: Mazda North American Operations

Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

Google: Google Inc.

Viagra: Pfizer Inc.

Dramamine: Prestige Brands Holdings, Inc.

Chapter One

Sheriff Laine Stenley stood outside squinting against the bright morning sun. A sharp, biting wind slapped against him, cold enough to sting his cheeks and have him pulling at his jacket. He lined up the tab then proceeded to zip the heavy material shut.

Octobers in Texas could be tricky things, weather-wise. One day it would be sunny and in the seventies, and the next, like today, the temperature dropped so fast and the wind kicked up and all a person wanted to do was find a warm place to hide away.

If he had a choice, he’d be home in bed with Severo, his partner of over three years. Just thinking about all that smooth, honey-brown skin pressed against him was enough to warm Laine more effectively than his jacket had. He closed his eyes and let the memories from earlier this morning work through him. Sev, smiling, his celadon-colored eyes heavy lidded with sleep, his full lips stretched in a sultry grin. Flashes of taut, dark nipples and ridged muscles, silky black hair and nimble fingers, a firm, rounded ass and a hard, dripping cock—everything about Sev still called to him.

There’d been no lessening of the desire between them, no doubting their love or commitment. The years had sped by so quickly once Sev had come into his life. Laine figured he’d blink and be standing here, a whole decade gone by, and still he’d feel this all-encompassing love for his partner.

A little fear niggled at him, telling him things couldn’t go on as they had been. It was tempting Fate or God or someone way up the food chain, being this happy.

And I’m just a melancholy, moody fool. Laine shook his head and tugged his Stetson lower, shading his watering eyes. One of these days he was going to break down and buy some sunglasses before the Texas sun fried his retinas. Sure enough it must have already cooked a few brain cells, making him all contemplative and, though he hated to admit it, superstitious. He couldn’t shake the unease caused by his guilt over being happy. And that’s what it was, Laine knew it. Sev was always on him about feeling responsible for everyone, trying to convince Laine he wasn’t—but he was, in a way, and his failures cut deep.

A bright yellow Miata turned in the parking lot, as if summoned by Laine’s thoughts of guilt and responsibility. He watched as the driver parked. Rich Montoya got out of the vehicle and Laine waved at him.

Did you lose your trucker? Laine called out, smiling slightly at the way Rich lit up with the mention of his lover.

Nah, Chris is at the house visiting with his mom and a few of her friends. Coven. Whatever. Rich grimaced as he approached, and if Laine wasn’t mistaken, there was a ruddy flush crawling up the man’s neck.

Thought you got along with Miriam.

Rich’s cheeks darkened. I do, he said, his shoulders tensed. It’s just weird, having a Wiccan High Priestess for a mother-in-law. She and a crew—well, some of her coven, I mean—just did some extra special blessing thing for us. I figured why argue, it couldn’t hurt anything. He shrugged, glancing down as he scraped the toe of his shiny boot over a crack in the sidewalk. Chris said she was bringing the High Priest, too. They want to bless the Hawkins Senior and Youth Center.

The way Rich muttered that last bit nearly made Laine chuckle. He swallowed it down, aware of how uncomfortable Rich was and what the man was asking without saying. When do they want to do it? I don’t think Carlin and Virginia will have a problem with it, but I’d need to clear it with them first.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be during the ribbon-cutting ceremony or something like that. McKinton was a great little town, a lot more tolerant than it used to be, but some of the residents might freak over having a Wiccan High Priestess and High Priest dancing around— Laine narrowed his eyes at Rich. They aren’t going to be dancing around naked or anything like that, are they?

Rich paled, his normally warm brown skin going an unattractive shade of gray. He gulped and muttered, God, I hope not.

Laine arched an eyebrow at Rich. It was getting harder and harder not to snicker. Are you planning on participating in the ceremony? Laine might just go along to keep an eye on the whole deal himself instead of assigning a deputy the task. Maybe he’d bring Sev along, too—Sev would make sure Laine didn’t put his foot in his mouth or tease Rich too much.

Of course, if there was dancing involved, Sev would probably be right out there in the middle of it. Especially if it was naked dancing. That didn’t do anything to discourage Laine from the idea of bringing his partner at all.

Chris wants us to participate, Rich said as he canted his head to the side. Sunlight brought the almost unnoticeable scar running from Rich’s eye to the hinge of his jaw into silvery relief.

Laine’s gut clenched with guilt—the scar, along with several others on Rich’s body, had been left there by a man who’d stalked Laine for years. James McAlister was dead now, had been for years, but the damage the man had done, physically and mentally, still remained—and not just for Rich, although he’d got the worst of it. Laine pushed his own emotions aside and gave Rich a sly grin. Don’t you think maybe you should talk to Miriam first and find out what she’s planning on doing before you agree?

Rich snorted and rolled his eyes. Well, yeah, and I imagine you’re going to want to talk to her too before giving the all-clear.

Laine nodded as he tucked his thumbs into his front pants’ pockets. Definitely. Ask her if she can stop by my office tomorrow morning since the ribbon-cutting ceremony’s in a few days.

Will do. You got somewhere to be, or were you just out here holding the sidewalk down?

"Thought I’d go get a cup of coffee from the café. Doreen’s on vacation and her sister is filling in. Loretta informed us right off the bat that she was only here in an administrative sense. Coffee making is not in her job description."

It wasn’t in Doreen’s, either, but she loved her ‘boys’ at the Sheriff’s Department. She made coffee for them because she wanted to, and because she used it as a weapon when one of them irritated her. Piss Doreen off, and it was fend for yourself for coffee. She’d smack your fingers plumb off your hand if you touched her pot.

Damn, Laine wished she’d come back early from her vacation. Loretta was a sour-faced woman with an even sourer disposition.

Rich’s laughter was good to hear. It warmed Laine inside to see his friend so happy after all he’d been through. Yeah, Matt’s mentioned Loretta. I believe he said something about spending as much time as possible out of the office.

He’s not the only one, Laine admitted, his lips twitching as he darted a glance over his shoulder at the Sheriff’s Department. He wanted to arm wrestle me to see which one of us got to go get the coffee. He’s in there pouting right now. Laine turned back to Rich. Were you coming by to see him? Rich and Matt had been at odds at one time, but they’d slowly been building a friendship. Laine was relieved—he didn’t want his favorite deputy and his friend hating each other.

Rich tipped his head down for a moment then looked at Laine. I actually just came by to visit either of you. I can’t… I’m a little weirded out by this whole Wiccan thing. Stupid, I know, considering the whole spirit stuff, but… He shrugged. There you go. I can deal with knowing there’s spirits hanging around, but any religion’s always given me the heebeejeebies. Stupid, like I said.

Laine didn’t miss the fact Rich hadn’t said anything about being possessed by James McAlister’s spirit, not that he blamed him. That was a hell Laine couldn’t imagine, having the spirit of a psychotic killer, who’d tried to kill you, dwelling in your body. How Rich hadn’t gone insane before the spirit had been ripped out was beyond Laine’s comprehension. All he did know was Rich was a stronger man than he could ever be.

It’s not stupid, Laine said. He nudged Rich’s arm with his own. How many wars have been fought over religion? It’s definitely a touchy subject. People kill each other over it every day. It’s understandable that it’d make some people uncomfortable.

When Rich only nodded, Laine decided it was time to get off the deep subjects. He nudged Rich again, playfully but hard enough to make the man take a stumbling step back. That got him a glare, which was better than the miserable expression Rich had worn a second ago. So. You want to come with me to fetch some coffee or go rescue Matt?

Rich’s smile was one Laine hadn’t seen in a long while, the flirty, heart-stopping one that made most people’s knees weak. Laine, however, considered himself Rich-proof, but he could admit the man was a looker. The