“Pastor Young has a very clear connection to the divine,” I agreed which was obviously the right approach, as they both nodded their heads earnestly.
“Show Allera to the kitchen, will you, Trent, dear?” Mrs. Wicker asked and waved us off to the side.
A mild trickle of lust coasted over my body, but something told me it wasn’t Mr. Wicker. He seemed like he actually had morals. They were so startingly lacking in this modern world that I recognized a moral man when I saw one. Looking about, I noticed a hulking shadow off to the side. The lust intensified, and I narrowed my eyes to see who it could be. Trent noticed the shadow and wrapped his fingers around my arm, hauling me down in the opposite direction.
“That was Paul,” he whispered. “Don’t be wandering around alone. For obvious reasons.” He raised his eyebrows until I nodded and blew out a relieved sigh. What I really wanted to do was turn on my heel and track down the lurker in the shadows who had Trent spouting off all kinds of vague warnings. But I had to play along for now. There was very little that made me afraid, and I certainly wasn’t intimidated by some creep wrapped up in a gentleman’s disguise like some young girl who was easily led astray.
I wasn’t a girl at all.
I was a succubus who could bring nearly any man to his knees.
Except for Reeve, but I had trusted him.
I wouldn’t be doing that again.
Trent cleared his throat at the entrance to the kitchen, startling the bustling women. He wasn’t subtle, his eyes flickering to Christabel immediately, who was sorting out plates. I peered past him into the industrial-sized kitchen, eyes wide with surprise. An older woman looked up from where she was molding burger patties and glared at Trent.
“Mr. Trindell, you know better than to bother us in the kitchen. Find Tate,” she started before spying me. She held up her hands with a grimace.
“I have a helper. My cousin. Mrs. Wicker asked me to escort her down,” Trent mumbled awkwardly, the back of his neck pink.
“Well, you’re done that, off you skedaddle.” She made a shooing motion and Trent dipped his head at me, racing away to the soundtrack of titters. Christabel wasn’t one of them, lost in a daydream.
“My name is Allera,” I introduced myself as I entered the kitchen and walked around the bench to the lady who seemed in charge.
“Allera Trindell, we all heard about the unfortunate happenings at your church. It’s good you’re here and can see how things should really be done. I’m Margie. Mrs. Wicker is my sister.”
Had every person in this town heard about what had supposedly happened? News traveled fast in Bronsmith. The girls in the kitchen were watching me with pitying eyes. I really had to find out what story Landon had given since I was bound to trip over it if the constant referencing to it kept happening.
“Christabel, take Allera out to the dining hall with you and get it all set up.”
Christabel slid a look my way before wordlessly picking up a bunch of plates and leaving the kitchen.
Okay then.
Following suit, I took a stack of plates for myself, balancing some cutlery on them and hurried after her. She hadn’t waited, her feet hustling like she was trying to leave me on purpose. I took longer strides, not hindered by the thick, floor-length skirt she had on.
“Did you enjoy the sermon?” I gave her a sidelong look as I caught up with her. She hiked her nose up and stepped into a large hall with vaulted ceilings. The room was filled with two large tables adorned with white tablecloths. Christabel tipped her chin to the space off to the side, where I assumed all the food was going to be placed.
“Not much of a talker, are you?” I muttered more to myself. The girl was a pretty little thing, her nose turned up and her lips a pink cupid’s bow. She looked at me blankly, pausing her stacking for a moment, before continuing.
“Christabel doesn’t speak,” a voice came, and I looked over to find one of the handsome twins from church. The one who had blushed when he spotted me. He strode into the room, tugging a cap off his head. His mussed, sandy hair stuck to his head like he’d been out in the sun. Christabel’s shoulder hiked around her ears so it was clear she could hear just fine. She offered her brother a tight smile.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” I said awkwardly. “Can’t speak or doesn’t speak?” I stared at the girl who was studiously ignoring me. A wisp of lust sunk into my skin, and I turned to look at the man shrewdly.
“Doesn’t speak. Not since she was twelve,” he clarified, offering me a half smile “Although it’s hard to get a word in edgewise in this family. I’m Kellen, by the way.”
“Allera, Trent’s cousin.” I took a step towards him. I held out my hand, wondering if he would take it. He looked at it with a mixture of shock and longing. My hand hovered for a moment before letting it drop back to my side. Clearly he wasn’t going to take it.
“I shouldn’t–I shouldn’t even be here.” He took a step back. “I should go.” Clearing his throat, he backed away. That was when I felt the power I had gathered slowly being siphoned away under his wide gaze. I sucked in a shocked breath, hissing at the prickle it left on my skin. I wanted to snatch the power back, to latch onto Kellen and soak it back into my body where it belonged. But he turned on his heel and ran, taking my power with him. His feet echoed like the thump of my heart.
What had just happened?
Christabel walked by me, silent as a ghost, and I had to shrug off the unusual occurrence and follow her.
There would be time to investigate later.
Chapter 2