Free The Devil's Cowboy by Kallista Dane

I’m worried about you, how you’ll handle her presence this time.”
    “I admit she took me by surprise, Rafe. I’ve never encountered a spirit filled with so much anger and pain. I didn’t know an entity could project those feelings into me so intensely when I attempted to communicate with it. But I’m on guard now. I know what she’s capable of. She won’t take over my mind again.”
    “Just remember, darlin’, she can’t hurt you. No spirit of a person who has passed can. But the dark angel you saw— he’s different . It was him you felt right at the end. He’ll try to influence your mind again through her, since it worked before. He’ll fill it with darkness and despair, until you’re ready to act in ways you never dreamed you would. The devil feeds on human weaknesses. Fear, obscene lust, rage, and pain… they make him stronger. You need to remember who you are, who we are together and why we’re there. The only way I can protect you is if you stay open to me, trust in me, stay in the light.”
    “I told you, Rafe, I don’t believe in the devil. I felt the dark energy in Adam’s room yesterday when I was alone in the house and I’ve felt what that woman’s spirit is capable of. I’m sure I can handle it better this time. I’ll be fine.”
     
    * * *
     
    It was after ten by the time they set up back at Melanie’s house. Rafe unpacked candles and sage and incense, sea salt and crystals, from the bag he carried. He brought out a small, well-worn wooden figurine about a foot tall, setting it in the center of the dining room table and surrounding it with lit votives. Traces of faded paint decorated the object here and there. A pair of wings ready to unfurl still bore a tattered layer of gold leaf. The statue looked as though it could have come straight from the altar of a medieval cathedral. It radiated peace and comfort. Ellen could tell it was a treasured object, endowed over the years with the positive energy surrounding Rafe.
    “Is this your talisman?” Ellen asked.
    “My patron saint,” he replied. “I was named by my grandmother. She passed when I was a little boy, but we still communicate from time to time. That’s Raphael. He’s an archangel, one of the seven. His job is to protect humankind from the spirit world. Granny said that was my job too, in this lifetime. She gave it to me years ago, said it’s been passed down in our family over the generations. I find it centers me, reminds me of why I’m doing this work.”
    He pulled out a crystal flask filled with clear liquid. The stopper was silver, a simple cross surrounded by tiny holes in the base.
    “Holy water?” Ellen was stunned.
    “After a fashion. It’s pure water from my underground spring, water I blessed myself, imbued with positive energy. We’re going to sage the house and bless it, then sprinkle this water around and see what pops out.”
    “See what pops out?” Her voice rose a notch. Ever since she’d walked back into the house, Ellen was becoming increasingly skeptical. Had this cowboy been stringing her along? Did he have any idea what he was doing? First his story of chatting with the devil himself, now this mystical water he was planning to sprinkle around like psychic flea powder.
    She stared at him as though seeing him for the first time, then gave a shiver. The cold seemed to be creeping back into the room. The thought popped into her head that her sudden feelings of distrust and skepticism about Rafe might be a sign that she was slipping under the influence of the madwoman’s spirit again, but she dismissed it. I can handle this, she told herself. I’m much stronger than she is.
    Rafe gave her a sharp look. “Are you feeling anything… odd?”
    “Not at all,” she replied tartly. Honestly, the man was infuriating sometimes. But then, all men were. They’re liars, all of them. Cruel and heartless. You can’t trust him—can’t trust any of them, whispered a voice in her head.
    She shook her