his hand in hers, pulled her back to the table, and sat them both down on the bench.
He didn’t let go of her hand. This time, she didn’t mind. It felt good. His hand was so big, like the rest of him, and calloused from hard work. It signaled strength. She needed to draw on some strength right now. She’d always been independent, strong on her own, never needed anyone else.
Not right now, though. She felt weak and she hated it.
“I know you’re afraid,” he said. “I know you’re confused. There’s a lot unsettled right now, a lot we both don’t know. All I do know is that I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, Isabelle. I won’t let the Sons of Darkness take you. Not again.”
For the first time in a long while, she felt hope. Maybe it was lame to take that hope from Dalton’s words alone, but she’d always been on her own, and now she felt like she had an ally. She had to believe he’d protect her, that he’d do whatever it took to keep the Sons of Darkness away from her.
“Thank you. I’m not used to … needing anyone. This isn’t easy for me. But I do need you.”
“We need each other.”
“You need me? How?” What could she possibly offer him?
He looked away for a second, then back at her. “What I meant was that I feel like I owe you after stealing your mother’s diary, setting all this in motion. Let’s just say this is my chance at redemption.”
Somehow she didn’t think that’s what he meant. But as long as he was on her side this time, it was a start.
Dalton mentally cursed himself. He was going to have to watch what he said. He’d slipped a couple times tonight with Isabelle. He couldn’t let her know that he needed her, what his plans were for her. She wouldn’t understand. Not right now. Maybe never. It was best that she just believe he was trying to help her, that he’d brought her here because he thought Georgie could assist her.
They’d talked for a while, then she’d started to yawn, her eyelids drooping. He could tell she fought it, but she eventually gave in and went to bed. He waited an hour or so, slipping her door open to make sure she was asleep.
He went up to the main house and found Georgie sitting out front in her great-grandmother’s old white rocking chair.
He’d had a few conversations with Georgie’s great-grandmother while she rocked in that chair.
It had been so long ago.
“Thought you might come by tonight,” she said.
Dalton smiled and leaned against the railing. “You psychic, too?”
“Oh, I have many gifts, Dalton. I know what you’re about.”
“Do you.”
She nodded. “You have big plans for that girl down there,” Georgie said, her palms flat on the wide arms of the rocker as she rode it gently back and forth. “She know about them?”
“Not yet. She’s had a bad time of it.”
Georgie’s gaze drifted down the path toward the cabin. “She’s got a lot of darkness in her.”
Dalton stared down the road. He wished he could see the cabin from here. He shouldn’t have left Isabelle alone. The urge to go back there grew stronger. “Yeah, she does.”
“So do you.”
He snapped his gaze back to Georgie. “What are you talking about?”
“My grandmother filled me in from what she knew, what my great-grandmother told her. The rest I can sense.”
“What can you sense?”
“There’s conflict in you, Dalton. And within me.”
He frowned. “What are you conflicted about?”
“Whether to help your Isabelle or not.”
She wasn’t
“Those were different circumstances, and you know why. We owed you. Now you want help for Isabelle. Why?”
“Because what happened to her isn’t her fault.”
Georgie studied him. “But maybe her destiny. And something you shouldn’t interfere in.”
Dalton sucked in a breath. He’d interfered before, and it had cost him dearly. “I’m right about this, Georgie. I know I am. Isabelle doesn’t deserve this.”
Georgie folded her hands in her lap, seeming to contemplate while rocking. Dalton knew better than to push it, so he waited for her to speak. When she looked up, her gaze was penetrating.
“I think you need to take some time while you’re here. Search your heart, Dalton, and determine whether you’re really out to save Isabelle’s soul. Or your own.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Isabelle knew she had slept some, but it wasn’t a good, deep sleep. She felt ragged and cranky when she woke near dawn, gray light filtering through the blinds in her bedroom. The nightmare that always seemed to latch on to her evaporated almost immediately, its fuzzy edges still attached like tentacles to the shadows of her mind. Despite Dalton’s advice to remember, she wanted to shake it loose permanently, so she slid out of bed and got dressed, brushed her teeth and wound her hair up in a ponytail, then went out into the kitchen to make coffee.
Dalton was already up, coffee made. She inhaled the scent of caffeine and picked up her step. Coffee would banish the demons.
Dalton sat at the table, drinking in the still-dark kitchen.
“Don’t you sleep?” she asked, filling a cup and sitting.
“Not much. I’m used to being on a hunt. I can do with just a few hours.”
“So this is like vacation for you.”
He arched a brow. “Uh, yeah.”
“I’ll bet you hate downtime.”
“I’m not used to it.”
“Me, either.” She took a long sip of coffee and waited for the caffeine to surge. “I’m used to starting digs before dawn and working until sunset. Doing nothing is going to make me crazy.”
He nodded. “You’re not here to do nothing.”
“Good. What am I here to do?”
“First thing is to get you strong again.”
She practically inhaled the first cup of coffee and went to pour another. “And you’re going to help me with that.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Battle exercises for the physical. You’re not a demon hunter.”
“You planning to make me one?”
“When the Sons of Darkness show up, I want you prepared. But not just physically.”
She took a seat across the table from him and cupped the mug of steaming coffee. “How else?”
“Mentally. Working on your psychic skills. Try to get you to clear the cobwebs.”
“What am I supposed to do-sit around and channel my inner demon?”
“That would be helpful.”
She laughed. “I don’t think you really want me doing that. I thought the idea was to keep the demon away.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Which means what exactly?” She hated when he got vague and mysterious like this.
