Erik was just so damn tired of being alone.
If the spell worked, the woman’s devotion would be only for him. She would love only him. But she would be her own person. Not a shadow of the others.
The spell warned of that. Not to expect the personality of someone who had died. They were gone. This spell was not to bring back the soul of the dead.
But to create a new life from the dead.
Erik didn’t know if that meant she’d have a soul or not, but he wasn’t sure he cared. Not so long as she loved him.
He brushed his fingers over her forehead, then pulled away as though it had shocked him.
“This is insane.”
Yet, he walked over to the book. He picked it up. Even still, he felt the bits of dirt embedded into it. Graveyard dirt, according to the dealer. No matter where the book disappeared, they always found it in a graveyard. When or how—well only the book decided.
And, according to the dealer, it only came to the people it would best serve.
He figured it was all snake oil nonsense to get him to buy the book. But there had been an undeniable call. Something that made his heart pound and his palms sweat. He’d never been a nervous man. He wasn’t nervous at that moment either. It was something much more... primal.
And considering the dealer found Erik—well, people conned other people all the time.
But be warned. The end of the spell read. What you seek may not be what you receive. And in the end, a price is always paid.
Erik was more than willing to pay it if it ended his long suffering.
Taking a breath, he opened the book to the proper page. The spell was written in long strokes, each letter curved and styled on ancient paper that he handled with the gentlest touch. The last thing he wanted was for it to tear or disintegrate in his hands.
Then his last hope—crazy as it may be, would disintegrate along with it.
He read from the page—from a language that he guessed was Latin. He’d heard it a few times in church when he was younger. Back when he believed in that sort of thing. Plus, it had phrases similar to scientific names, many of which came from Latin descent.
By the time he was through the second line, a sudden storm picked up outside. He couldn’t see it—there were no windows in the basement—but he heard it. The thunder shook the house, and the electricity in the air made his arm hairs stand on end.
Coincidence.
And yet, his heart pounded harder. Excitement rushed through his veins. He read on. The air became thick with something more—an energy he’d never felt. And her body jerked off the table.
He stumbled over a word and she went still.
No!
Erik read once more and continued on. Her body jerked again. The lights flickered and a wind that shouldn’t exist ripped through the enclosed space. Papers blew off his desk. The chair swiveled across the floor before it tipped.
He kept reading.
Her body arched off the table. Bones and muscles moved beneath the skin—and if she’d been awake, or alive, it would have been excruciating. Screams would have escaped her.
But Erik didn’t have time to cringe.
He kept reading.
When the insides stopped slithering beneath the surface, her body fell to the table. The skin where he’d stitched the pieces together mended into bright red scars. Then they faded.
The skin tones shimmered beneath the overhead lights as the storm raged somehow both in and out of the basement. Her skin morphed from light to tan, and settled somewhere in the middle.
He kept reading.
The lights above him popped. A gust of wind slammed into him so hard, his hip crashed into the desk. Pain radiated, but he ignored it, reading against the elements that shouldn’t be in his basement. Despite the panic and the surrealism, despite his rational brain telling him that this couldn’t be happening, he continued.
He spoke the last word.
Lenore took her first breath.
1
I made a BLT with a side of barbecue chips and served it to Erik at the kitchen table. He smiled and tugged on my shirt. My heart fluttered, and I leaned down so he could kiss me. He smelled of dirt and sweet grass. He’d spent the morning clearing the way for a new gazebo in the backyard. Sweat from his face left a salty taste on my lips.
“Sorry.” He wiped it away with a rag from his pocket.
I chuckled and kissed him again. “Don’t be. I love your kisses, no matter what.”
The floor creaked under my bare feet as I walked to the other side of the table. I sat down in front of my plate, stomach growling from hunger. Nerves caused butterflies to flutter in the hollow space. I hoped the food would help give me courage, but really, the desire to eat wasn’t there.
Just the desire for answers.
He’d been working in the yard all morning, but it would still take a while to finish since he didn’t want to contract outside help. When he finished, we would string up lights and enjoy sitting in the gazebo at night. Just the two of us watching the stars or listening to music. Physical work always put him in a good mood. I figured that, along with his favorite lunch, might give me an edge.
“Erik?”
He looked up from his phone. A bit of mayo rested on his chin and it made me smile. I took a napkin and leaned forward, wiping it off.
“You should have done that with your tongue.” He waggled his brows.
I laughed. “Absolutely insatiable.”
“Only for you.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“Tell me something?” I asked. “Just... something small?”
He frowned, the lust fading from his light blue eyes. “We’ve been over this, Lenore. You’re not likely to get your memories back. Dwelling on the past...”
“I won’t dwell!” I gripped the edge of the table. “I promise.”
A promise I
