How Deep The Roots Go ( Book One)

Chapter 50

A hush fell upon them then. It swooped around like a monstrous hurricane rising. The wind picked up, a wild rumbling of it, slapping at their faces and bending the Willow in the yard, whipping its wand like limbs around as if it were wishers on a dandelion. The crows cawed loudly then, all in unison, parting abruptly from the tree they had made home upon. The ground beneath them shook softly, a vibration true enough that they could feel it in the soles of their shoes.

Temperance blinked, her breath coming out in short, heavy gasps.

"What the hell is that?" Temperance said under her breath, rushing over to Roman. Her eyes darted everywhere, anxious and full of trepidation.

Roman surveyed quickly, knowing the ominous evil wanting to ambush them.

"It is the enemy at the gate," he replied, extending his arm out, pulling her closer to him.

"Jesus," Temperance responded. "Already?"

"The time is nearing when things will come to pass. I imagine sooner than later," he gripped her tighter. "I can feel it."

"Me too," she whispered.

"They cannot touch this ground, it has been marked."

"By what?"

"Black salt. A protection done by a hoodoo doctor, or one that has experience with herbs," he said. Heinous screeches began to permeate the air, so loud that it pierced their eardrums.

"They cannot enter here, Temperance," Roman reassured. "The salt will not permit anyone or anything with evil intent on these grounds."

"How do you know this?"

"I told you, I am supposed to know. I wouldn't be a very good protector if I wasn't aware of a lot of things."

He grabbed her hand. "Lets move this conversation inside."

He opened the door, switched on the inside light, and led her to the kitchen. "I need a drink. You have any sweet tea?"

She shook her head, shaken. "Yes, on the top shelf."

He managed to go about her kitchen as if it were his own. "Let's clean the air up a bit."

"You want me to marry you?" she managed to say, jumping right in.

He paused holding the glass he had retrieved from the cupboard, studying her. "I think we both know it would end up that way, eventually," he shrugged and continued, grabbing the tea out of the fridge. "I'd rather face the wrath now than later."

"But you said that I would lose my gift," she shook her head, swallowing. "That the coal would never be found, and the war would begin."

"Yes."

"But marry you anyway?" Her brow furrowed, clearly perplexed. "You change your tune fast Roman McKenna."

"I have a theory," he announced, pouring the cold tea. "It dawned on me tonight."

Temperance shifted her feet, leaning on the entryway to the kitchen. "Honestly, Roman, I was thinking of dating," she shrugged, smiling cockily. "Perhaps a few nice dinners, some walks down Bourbon street, and maybe if you're kind and sweet, some kissing ever now and again, which could lead to who knows what else." Her eyes widened with pure mockery. "But you skip through all of that and head straight to nuptials."

He flinched, his glass halfway up to his lips then. "I guess I didn't properly ask you," he took a nice long sip then, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll remedy that."