Page 34 of The Beast's Heart

He pauses mid stride. The light from the torch only catches the edges of his face and beard, not enough for me to make out an expression. “Safe as houses.”

Given the current situation, that’s not as comforting as he might intend.

The air downstairs is already frigid, the entrance hall and landing lit bright by the electric sky.

In the kitchen, I stoke the fire to life and help the children settle on the rug in front of it, in a nest of blankets and cushions. By the time Meredith and Ray join us, it’s all quite cozy. Meredith pulls over a chair from the table. Ray settles next to me, with Ben and Mal on one side of us and Alisha and Enrique on the other. Although Ben isn’t so much at my side as trying to fuse himself to me.

Ray’s nighttime ensemble consists of red satin pajamas and a matching velvet banyan. Meredith, on the other hand, is in a practical pink bathrobe. They swap theories about what might have been hit to cause the loud thunderclap that woke us all.

“Will Lily-Iris and Angus be okay in their cottage?” I ask.

“Should be,” Ray says. “It’s at lower elevation than the manor and they have their own fireplace. Probably safer for them to stay there than go out in the storm.”

Adam arrives with Geoff in tow. Their arms are laden with candles.

“I unplugged all our equipment,” Adam says, “but we’ll have to wait until morning to see the damage.”

“Fucking haunted piece of shit house,” Geoff says.

“Please not in front of the children,” I scold. Mal has enough trouble with swearing and ghost stories without Geoff’s influence.

Geoff glares at me. He’s in a tight T-shirt that shows off his abs and a pair of tracksuit bottoms that hang low on his narrow hips. He’s not dressed for this weather at all. I hand him a blanket. He accepts it begrudgingly and throws it around his shoulders.

Ben presses even tighter against my side.

“There isn’t a ghost,” I say.

“Although this is exactly the sort of shit he’d pull,” Geoff says. “Drama queen.” At Adam’s sharp look, he adds, “I said what I said.”

I brace for Adam’s retort, but he shrugs it off and lights a candle. As he shakes out the match, he says, “I’m pretty sure thunderstorms are beyond the power of ghosts.”

“They make a thunderstorm in Ghostbusters,” Ben says. He looks up at me with those big blue eyes.

“Ghostbusters is a work of fiction,” I assure him. “And are you even old enough to watch that?”

“Oh please,” Geoff says. “It’s madefor kids.”

Adam thrusts a candlestick into his hand and a box of matches. “Make yourself useful?”

Geoff rolls his eyes but assists. Soon we’re sitting in a circle of warm, flickering light. Geoff settles at Meredith’s feet and Adam starts towards a spot at the edge of our semi-circle, but then Ray says, “You know what’s missing? Marshmallows.” They get to their feet and gesture for Adam to take their spot.

Adam hesitates a moment. Then, much to my surprise, he sinks down between me and Alisha. Her eyes stretch in alarm and Enrique hides his face against her again.

Adam’s wearing a gray tracksuit and black hoodie. Pretty much exactly what I’d expect him to sleep in. “That wasn’t a storm anyway, in Ghostbusters,” he says. “It was a possession. A whole occult thing.”

I try to ignore the heat I can feel radiating off his massive bicep that is now oh-so-close to my own skinny one.

“What does occult mean?” Ben asks.

“Never you mind,” I say.

Mal peers curiously at Adam. “Are you scared of the storm?”

“The Beast isn’t scared of anything,” Geoff says, before he can answer. He stretches out like a feline, absorbing the heat from the fire. Adam clenches his jaw and looks away from the display. I find myself wondering if Geoff ever apologized for the article. Or if he maybe made it up to Adam some other way…

“Neither am I,” Mal says. He folds his arms and juts his chin out.

As if to underscore the statement, thunder claps in the distance. Either the storm’s moved on, or it’s much softer down here. Still, Mal flinches, Ben’s fingers dig into my side, Alisha tenses up and Enrique whimpers.

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