Midnight Exposure Read Online Free PDF

Someday I’ll finish what I started.

    Reed watched Miss Sullivan bolt for the stairs. Yesterday she’d acted nervous, but when he’d caught her in his arms outside, she’d been terrified. She’d covered it quickly, but he’d seen it.
    She is none of my business.
    Something inside him disagreed, a pang of desire that needed to be squashed. Reed had enough troubles of his own. He did not need to borrow problems from others—not even from a beautiful damsel in distress.
    He was no knight in shining armor.
    “Let’s go check out that door.” Reed glanced at Bill, who was standing a few feet away, staring at Jayne Sullivan’s legs as she disappeared up the stairs. “Bill?”
    “I-I-I’m sorry, Reed.” Bill’s hands curled into bowling ball—size fists.
    “Nothing to be sorry about. That’s a pretty lady.”
    Bill’s face went red as a ripe tomato and he darted for the interior door that led to the family’s private wing, nearly knocking Mae over as she came through. The door slammed behind him. Mae flinched as sepia photos of historical Huntsville rattled on the wall.
    “Aw, I didn’t mean to upset him, Mae.”
    “Not your fault, Reed. It’s hard to tell what’s going to set him off sometimes.” Mae patted him on the sleeve. “We appreciate that you’re so nice to him. Some folks aren’t so understanding.”
    Reed set his toolbox on the floor. “Let me go talk to him.”
    Mae shook her head. “Better to let him calm down first.” She ran the dust cloth in her hand over the scarred oak desktop. “He’s been acting strange since our guest arrived.”
    Did Bill think Jayne Sullivan was attractive? Who wouldn’t? Although Bill had the emotional and intellectual maturity of a young boy, he was fully equipped with the hormones of an adult man. What had Bill been doing before he’d brought the wood in? Had he followed Jayne? If so, it would’ve been innocent curiosity. Bill wouldn’t hurt a fly—not on purpose anyway, Reed qualified. Big Bill didn’t have the best coordination.
    “I’ll try later. If that doesn’t work, I’ll bring Scott by. If Bill’s still uncomfortable with your guest, he can stay with us for a couple of days.”
    “Bill would love to see Scott.” Mae came around the desk and enveloped him in a giant hug. “You’re a good man.”
    Reed’s conscience protested. He grabbed his toolbox. “Let me get that door fixed.”
    Would Mae still think he was a good man if she’d read the headlines?

    In his dedicated workspace, he approached his altar and donned his robe.
    On the narrow table, two tall candles flanked a silver disk engraved with a pentagram. Its five points represented the five elements: fire, water, earth, air, and spirit. He lit the wicks. Fire was reflected in the mirrored surface of the silver. The other elements were placed around the disk. Water filled a tall goblet. A bowl of salt stood for the earth. Incense burned in the air. And after he’d prayed for the gods’ presence, spirit would unite all.
    Concrete bit into his knees as he knelt. Meditating, he called the gods forth and asked them for guidance and strength. Peace settled over him as they granted his request, the only respite in an otherwise torturous life.
    His worship area was consecrated; he was ready to begin.
    With the gods’ blessing, he pulled a jug from the minifridge and filled a small pitcher. Pouring a fine line, he cast a circle to confine his energy. On the outside circumference, aligned with the corners of the room, four white candles marked the cardinal directions. The North candle lined up with his altar.
    All was in balance.
    He knelt within his sacred space and placed his materials on the floor: a small leather pouch, a piece of paper, a quill, his knife, a shallow bowl, and another candle, red to symbolize energy, life. Blood.
    When the red wick was aflame, he smoothed the paper out in front of him. Then he drew the sharp blade of the knife against his palm. Blood welled