Sin in the Storm: Paranormal Peacekeepers, #4

By Nicole Tillman

Grace has learned how to live without her soul, but she hasn't learned how to love without it.

With the last remnant of her essence hiding out in Hell, the Peacekeepers must look to a stranger for help. However, trusting an outsider isn't something they're prepared to do.

Jenny is unlike anything they've ever hunted before. Her powers, her lure, her parentage- the deadly combination give the Peacekeepers pause. But when an unlikely bond begins to form, they realize it's time to put their prejudices aside and give her a chance. Welcoming her into their lives is a risk, but it's one they have no choice but to take.

But the question still remains.

Is Jenny evil incarnate...

Or the answer to their prayers?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Tillman
• Release date: Sep 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536598063

Nicole Tillman

Nicole Tillman is an author who hasn't always had a love of reading. As a child, she struggled to string words together and would hide in the back of the classroom with her head down in hopes that the teacher would forget she existed. Eventually, she was introduced to a young adult series by a family friend and her love of reading bloomed. Nicole now weaves her own stories, content to lose sleep in order to write both contemporary romance and thriller/suspense novels. She lives in the Ozarks of Missouri with her husband, two sons, and two dogs. Nicole has an Associates Degree in General Studies though Missouri State University and was on her way to completing her Bachelors in Creative Writing when she decided to take a sabbatical to focus on work and her family. Now a stay at home mother, she dedicates her time to her boys, writing, and photography.

Book preview

Other Books by Nicole Tillman

Saving Mercy

Steady

One Vibrant Hue

DUPONT Series

Come Tear Me Down

Don't Make Me Look

Please Let Me Stay

HOPELESS HERITAGE Series

Secondhand Sapphire

Temporary Partner

FORCED HOME Series

Loving the Cult

Taming the Cult

PARANORMAL PEACEKEEPERS

Whisper in the Rain

Scream in the Wind

Cry in the Fog

Dance in the Hellfire (Coming Fall 2016)

Dedicated to those who see, hear,

and feel things they can't always explain.

And to those who fall victim to bullying

for no reason other than being different.

Hold your heads up high.

It gets better.

I promise...

Book Description

––––––––

Grace has learned how to live without her soul, but she hasn't learned how to love without it.

With the last remnant of her essence hiding out in Hell, the Peacekeepers must look to a stranger for help. However, trusting an outsider isn't something they're prepared to do.

Jenny is unlike anything they've ever hunted before. Her powers, her lure, her parentage- the deadly combination give the Peacekeepers pause. But when an unlikely bond begins to form, they realize it's time to put their prejudices aside and give her a chance. Welcoming her into their lives is a risk, but it's one they have no choice but to take.

But the question still remains.

Is Jenny evil incarnate...

Or the answer to their prayers?

CHAPTER ONE

Grace

Get out.

She gripped my throat.

Hard.

Hard enough my vision began to blur as I scraped uselessly at her weathered hand. My feet left the floor as she lifted me above her head, craning her neck to look up into my pleading eyes.

I was a dead woman.

Please, I rasped, unable to take in a breath. I'm sorry.

You're sorry? She bellowed. The fire burning around us reflected in her glassy eyes, revealing her as the demon I knew her to be. You betrayed him. Cast him out. And you're sorry?

My eyes closed and I had to fight to keep a firm grip on my consciousness. Oxygen was a thing of the past. She wasn't just choking the life out of me.

She was crushing my will. My spirit.

She wanted my soul to fall to the flames and perish, but I couldn't let that happen.

I howled in pain as she jerked me forward until we were nose-to-nose.

You're no longer welcome here, Grace Wildstone. Spit flew from her mouth, every drop sizzling against my skin as it made contact. Get out.

Teeth bared, I growled out a response I hoped she could understand.

Then. Let. Me. Go.

The flames surrounding our dueling bodies grew higher. So high they licked the cavernous ceiling plastered with bodies of all those who'd betrayed me over the years.

You're not worthy to rule, she said, lowering my feet to the ground. Her grip tightened. You don't belong in Hell.

I sucked in a short breath through my nose, inhaling microscopic traces of embers and brimstone. My brown eyes met her blues, and it seemed we'd finally reached an understanding.

Damn straight I don't.

One by one, I felt her nails pierce the skin of my neck and I cried out, knowing no one could hear me.

He was wrong about you, Grace, she said, pushing me onto my knees. You're not worthy. You were born weak, you died weak, and your soul can't weather the fire!

Grace!

His voice was a whisper in my ear, but a shout across the seven levels of Hell. Every ear perked up at his call, even mine, but I closed my eyes, unable to answer. Unable to breathe.

Grace! Stop it!

Stop what?

Stop dying?

Stop letting her kill me?

It's not real! Stop!

The flames grew higher, the screams louder, until all I could hear was the roar of the damned.

Grace!

My eyes snapped open.

The room was dark, but Miles' voice bounced off every wall and hit my ears.

It's a dream, Grace! Wake up!

Fire.

So much fire.

I could feel it. It lived in my chest. In my skin. In my cells.

My lungs were burning.

Let go, dammit!

Pressure. Around my throat.

No air. None.

Miles, I squeaked.

The room flooded with light and worried chatter filled each silent void.

"What is she doing?

Grace, what's going on?

Miles, stop her!

I'm trying!

Grace, let go!

What were they talking about? Let go of what? I was dying. She was trying to kill me.

Zeke's wide eyes replaced the familiar eyes of Miles. He wasn't yelling, wasn't ordering me to do something I didn't understand. He was calm and collected as he touched my forehead.

Grace, he whispered, unblinking. You're choking yourself.

Choking. Myself.

Choking myself?

My hand relaxed and blessed oxygen filled my greedy lungs. A ragged inhale was all it took to bring me down, to bring me back to the land of the living.

It was just a dream, Zeke said, taking my hand.

Just... dream... I said between pants.

My vision sharpened with every breath, and the reality of my life, a life not lived in Hell, came into focus.

I was alive, in my room, surrounded by the people I shared my life with.

Miles. Bodhi. Zeke. Violet.

My friends. My family.

Headquarters. The compound.

Ghosts. Demons. Poltergeists.

Possession.

A shattered soul.

My life.

Or... the life of someone who used to be me.

Me.

Grace Wildstone.

Medium.

Demi-Demon.

Paranormal Peacekeeper.

Are you ready for this?

My breath puffed out in graceful waves and gravel crunched beneath my scuffed boots as I contemplated the seemingly innocent question.

Was I ready to work?

Of course.

Was I ready to help a tortured family?

Always.

Was I ready to gamble away my freedom?

Umm...

Was I ready to let another being use me as a marionette?

Well...

Was I ready to be possessed?

No.

No, I guess I wasn't ready.

Yes. Let's do this.

The lie slipped easily off my tongue as we joined the others at the door.

The house we were about to investigate was an old Victorian on the outskirts of Boston. Once an impressive dwelling, it had crumbled over the years and was now a quaint bed and breakfast with crooked shutters and peeling paint. But the charm was still there.

As was one previous resident.

Holly Wroughtfelt, the youngest child of the previous owners.

After contracting a vicious bout of Polio, Holly suffered full body paralysis and was bedridden until the day she died in her sleep on October 30th, 1922. The report we received said she was always in high spirits, even toward the end. She never once complained about being bound to her room, and I commended a six-year-old for having that kind of strength.

As the last rays of sunlight began to vanish behind a dying elm, the front door opened, and we were welcomed inside by the caretaker. I tried my best to wipe the gravel dust and wet lawn clippings off on the welcome mat, but it was a futile endeavor.

Mrs. Geller, nice to finally meet you, Bodhi said as he took her smaller hand in his. Sorry it's taken us so long to make the trip.

She waved off his apology. No worries. I know your home base is quite far from Boston.

Yes, most of our cases do span between Indiana and Louisiana, but we're happy to make the trip. Gave us an excuse to do some sightseeing.

Mrs. Geller smiled warmly as she made her way down the line, taking each of our hands.

I imagine your first stop in Boston was Fenway Park?

Zeke snorted. Of course.

Well, just make sure you visit the Museum of Fine Arts before you leave. Get your daily dose of culture.

Miles dipped his head to whisper in my ear.

Yearly dose, anyway.

I elbowed him in the ribs before following Mrs. Geller into the sitting room. Bodhi took a seat and she sat right next to him, pressing her hip against his. The blush streaking across his cheeks had us all fighting to contain riotous giggles, but we took our places and waited for him to take the lead.

Well, Mrs. Geller, I've read the report from front to back countless times over the last two years, but I think I'm gonna let Miles take point on your case. He's new but more than qualified.

I felt Miles stiffen beside me. Taking point on a case was a big deal, and he clearly wasn't prepared.

But, to my surprise, he confidently stood and pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Mrs. Geller, you've actually made our job fairly easy, he said, charisma dripping off every word. Since you know who's haunting you and you provided us with the proper background and research, all we'll need to do is call Molly out and urge her to cross over.

Urge? One white eyebrow rose skeptically. You think that'll do the trick?

If it doesn't, we have other means of expulsion, Bodhi assured her.

Expulsion. She tapped a bony finger against Bodhi's nose. That's the kind of word I want to hear. Expulsion. Eviction. Extermination. That's what needs to happen here.

Is her presence affecting business? Miles asked.

She slumped down into her seat, and I already knew her answer by the eerie silence lurking through the house.

The last guests I had stayed for a whopping three hours. What do you think?

Miles chuckled. I think we'd better get to work.

I think you're right, she said, a gleam of worry in her eyes. Good luck.

Ten minutes later, Bodhi said the three words I dreaded most in any investigation. Those three words were always followed by trouble, and it seemed the guy never learned. I may not have had every memory of every investigation intact, but I was 99.9% sure that his words destined us to failure. Because as soon as they met the empty air, it was like the creeps just came crawling out of the woodwork.

Lock the doors.

Lock the doors. Like... they're dead! What's the point in locking the doors? How is that going to help anything? They walk through walls!

I had to ask...

Why do we even lock the doors, Bodhi? What's the point? Holly's dead. Locking the doors won't stop her.

No, he mused, staring at his EMF meter. But they'll stop you.

Obviously.

Wait, what?

Meaning?

Without taking his eyes off the numbers wavering on the screen, he answered.

Meaning that if she decides to jump your bones, you can't haul ass outta here.

Ah, got it. I couldn't argue with that.

That... that is some good thinking.

Yeah, well, that's why I'm the boss, Grace. Now would you kindly do me a favor and lock the doors and flip that last light switch?

The master bedroom was cramped to begin with, and without the light to guide us we'd be like a bunch of fumbling toddlers, but what did I know? I was just the girl with half a soul, no memories, and a warrant out for her arrest. I didn't exactly have any room to judge Bodhi's decision.

So after locking the outside door and the door to the balcony, I grabbed hold of the string dangling from a creaking ceiling fan and pulled.

Plunged into darkness, my eyes fought to adjust, but not before the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

Miles, I whispered. Give me your phone.

I needed infrared, and I needed it yesterday.

It's in my back pocket, he said, refusing to lower his camera. Just reach in there and grab it.

I did just that, but not before I felt him up one side and down the other.

Sorry.

It was a good thing he couldn't see the way my cheeks flamed at the feel of his warm, firm skin beneath his jeans.

No need to apologize, Gracie. I could hear the smile in his voice, but chose to ignore it.

After unlocking his phone, I brought up the special infrared camera app and aimed it toward the bed.

Instantly, I gasped, and the phone clattered on the floor.

She was too close.

Too small.

Too intense for my already frail nerves.

What's that noise?

My unsteady hand shot out to clasp Miles' shoulder.

L- Lower your camera, I breathed. To the floor.

He did as I said and I wasn't surprised at all when an expletive burst from his lips.

Where is she? Violet asked. I still can't see well enough.

The floor, Miles answered. She's dragging her body across the floor.

The noise stopped.

My breathing stopped.

Everyone froze.

Only Bodhi's authoritative voice punctured the stagnant air.

Holly?

The next voice to speak didn't belong to an adult, and certainly not to anyone with a heartbeat.

"Aren't you going to tuck me in?"

––––––––

CHAPTER TWO

Miles

You screamed.

I rolled my eyes, but continued down the stairs, determined to remain unfazed.

I did not scream, I stated.

Tinkling laughter greeted me from behind as Grace and Violet watched me unload our luggage. The little girl was gone, the job was done, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a bed I hoped was comfortable and close my eyes. But they needed to have their fun to wind down.

Grace, would you call that a shrill womanly scream or a frightened toddler scream?

Oh, frightened toddler, definitely, Grace said.

With my hands filled with their pink and purple suitcases, I trudged back up the stairs.

It was not a scream.

Lung spasm, then? Violet quirked an eyebrow up in challenge. Or no, you just remembered at that very moment that you forgot to program Ellen to record while we're gone?

Oh, piss off, Vi. I dropped her bag at her feet but kept hold of Grace's. "I didn't forget Ellen. I never forget Ellen."

Ahh, so it was fear then.

Would it make you feel better if we referred to it as a manly howl of a scream? Grace could barely contain her laughter. But hey, I did scream, so she had a right to bait me.

Yes, that would be much better, I smiled. Thank you.

Once we were all in our respective rooms, Grace and I kicked off our shoes and collapsed onto the bed. Her on one side, me on the other, a good foot of space between us. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was enough. I had her back. I just had to remind myself of that fact every day we woke up safe, sane, and free.

As my muscles relaxed and I sank deeper into the mattress, I lolled my head to the side to look at her. Her dark lashes fanned across her cheek, a content smile playing softly at her lips. Small scars marred her skin, evidence of a time most of us would rather forget, but they were fading. They would never be completely erased, but maybe one day Grace would be able to look in the mirror and see past them.

I have a surprise for you.

Her eyes popped open and her smile intensified. As did the ache in my heart and the urge to wrap her in my