What Remains Read online

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgment

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher 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 scar only added to his attractiveness. “I’ll bet you five bucks I’ll have Loretta wrapped around my little finger by the time you get back.”

  It was a sucker’s bet, but Laine took it anyway, he was so delighted to see that spark back in Rich’s eyes. “You’re on.” They shook on it, then Laine headed toward the café, knowing he’d be five bucks poorer when he got back to the Sheriff’s Department.

  * * * *

  Sev chewed his lip as he waited for Laine to get home. All day, he’d felt off in a way he couldn’t pin down. It wasn’t like he was precognitive or anything—he just communicated with the dead, if their spirits were still on this plane. Yet he kept feeling an icy tingle down his spine off and on, and that spot between his shoulder blades itched, like someone was watching him.

  No one was. He was at home, alone. Even the spirits who usually popped in had been absent today. It happened occasionally. Sev didn’t know where they went or what they were doing, but it amused him to think of them all being required to attend some spirit behavior training course or something like that.

  He could easily imagine Conner, Laine’s deceased lover who’d been murdered by James McAlister, acting the clown in such a setting. In spirit, at least, Conner was a prankster a lot of the time, but not always. He was the whole reason Sev had come to McKinton, the reason Sev had even met Laine to begin with. Sev often wondered if Conner had known Sev and Laine would hook up and fall in love.

  Whether he had or not, it didn’t matter. Thanks to Conner, Sev had finally found love, and faith enough in himself to accept love from someone else. That was one of the reasons Sev was so fond of Conner. It also didn’t hurt that Conner liked to get Laine’s dander up, which could be quite entertaining. Laine was a wonderful man, but sometimes he was a little too intense and needed shaking up. Conner could do it with a flick of Laine’s badge, knocking the star to the ground, or he’d shove Laine’s hat off. Those were Conner’s favorites, but he did other things as well.

  Sev, however, had his own way of dealing with Laine when his lover started to brood. Blood rushed to his cock, heating his veins on the way down as he closed his eyes and pictured Laine naked and spread out, his strong arms stretched above his head, wrists cuffed to the headboard. His body Sev’s to explore. The trust Laine showed by giving himself over to Sev.

  God! Sev shuddered as his arousal grew. He scrubbed his palm over his erection, moaning at the rough scrape of denim against sensitive skin. Maybe ditching his underwear hadn’t been the smartest move. As much as he loved that rough friction against his dick, he was too close to coming for his peace of mind. Here he’d thought to turn Laine on past all reason, be all lubed and ready to go, yet Sev was the one who was almost quivering with need—and Laine probably wouldn’t even be home for an hour or so.

  An hour was more than enough time for him to recover if he jerked off now. In fact, that would pretty much ensure he lasted longer once he and Laine made love.

  Sev didn’t see any reason to resist that bit of logic. He unbuttoned his jeans then slowly eased the zipper down. Before he could so much as trail his fingers over his aching cock, the home phone rang.

  “Ugh!” Sev gave his erection a stroke that made him shudder. Answer the phone or beat off? The hard flesh in his hand felt so good—he was already leaking, pre-cum dripping from his slit onto the floor. Whoever was calling could wait. It wasn’t like it was Laine, who always called Sev’s cell. It was probably just another telemarketer. Sev moaned softly as he ran his palm over the crown, gathering the moisture there. He got in a couple of good strokes, smeared the liquid around for an easier glide.

  “Fuck!” His hips bucked, shoving his length through his fist with enough force his balls slapped the side of his hand. Sev frantically shoved at his jeans, pushing them down one-handed so he could grab his balls. A sharp tug on his sac sent goosebumps skittering over his skin. Sev tightened his fist around his dick and pumped harder, moaning again as every nerve from his balls to his nipples lit up.

  He needed more hands, that was all there was to it. His tits ached to be pinched, t
wisted to the point of pain. Laine knew just how to do it, making Sev ache with pleasure. Sev settled for rolling his balls. He squeezed them gently, mindful that he didn’t particularly like things rough down there. As the answering machine kicked on, Sev delved the tip of his thumbnail in his slit, barely penetrating the tiny hole. His cock pulsed and his damned nipples burned. Another stroke, another soft squeeze, and he was teetering on the brink of orgasm.

  “Severo, this is Alma, your sister.”

  As if he didn’t know who Alma was. Sev’s erection wilted so quickly it left him breathless and dizzy. No one in his family ever called him. It was always Sev who contacted them, a pattern they’d fallen into when Sev used to move around from place to place.

  “I need to speak to you. We’d…we’d like to come visit, if that’s okay. I hate to leave a message like this on here, but I didn’t want you to worry it was something bad, you know?”

  Sev was too stunned to move. He stood staring at the answering machine as if it were an alien. It dawned on him he was still holding his dick, which was just gross what with his sister’s voice echoing in his ears. Quickly tucking it away, he listened to the rest of her message. Picking up the phone was out of the question. One hand was coated in a fair amount of pre-cum and both hands were shaking.

  “I know we’ve all been crappy siblings. You’ve always had to come to see us, and…I just think it’s time for us to start being a family again. So will you call me back and let me know if you and your”—there was a slight hesitation, then—“boyfriend? Partner? I don’t mean anything bad, I just don’t know how to refer to Mr. Stenley. But will you please call me back tonight?”

  Sev blinked stupidly as Alma said goodbye. What did she mean, it was time for ‘us’ to start being a family? Sev thought they were family, just a fucked up one. He’d seen his siblings—some of them, anyway—exactly once since he’d moved to McKinton. That was when he’d taken a consulting case with San Antonio PD.