Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set

by Flynn, Connie

  Why? She had no answer.

  But after all that, how had she found herself saying hello to everything she'd left behind and riding in a boat with the man she'd hurt as much or more than any other? The man who, above all, could expose the lie she'd made of her life?

  "Can you read that?" Zach asked suddenly.

  Glad to have her gloomy thoughts interrupted, she looked up to see him peering at the journal.

  "Of course," she said. "I grew up speaking French, remember?"

  "Sure do. I often envied you that."

  This wasn't news to Liz. She knew Zach's parents had been punished for speaking French like most town Cajuns of their generation and seldom spoke it for fear Zach and Jed would get the same treatment.

  "I'm glad to see you didn't leave that part of your past behind too." He laughed, but it wasn't a truly amused sound. "I miss your drawl, and your long hair."

  "Give it a rest, will you, Zach? I've changed, okay? We've all changed." She let her gaze pointedly drop to the flask at his feet.

  "Right." He redirected his eyes forward, then reached for a cigarette.

  Liz returned to the journal. The entries weren't daily. At times more than a year passed before her mother wrote again, and as Liz got closer to the end, references to Ankouer appeared ever more frequently. Each time she saw that name, or its more dramatic alias, le fantome noir, she felt a surge of irritation. As she continued reading, the irritation escalated to anger.

  Finally she couldn't stand it anymore.

  "This is ridiculous, Zach! Listen!"

  He took a puff from his cigarette before giving her his attention. "Shoot."

  She flipped back a few pages, then began reciting in an intentionally stagy and sonorous tone. "'Le fantome noir, or Ankouer as he sometimes be called, comes from dark, cold regions. Not of this world, he covet the light, and seeks to—'" She paused. "I'm not sure of the idiom, but I suspect it means 'absorb.' Anyway . . . 'he seeks to absorb all that is good and pure about humanity. Above all, he seek the fire opal and its power to control the thoughts and deeds of men and bid them do his will. The guardian protects . . ' " She looked up. "Now really, Zach, doesn't this read like a fantasy novel? A very bad one at that."

  "There are things in this world we don't understand. I'd be careful about dismissing them too easily."

  Liz stared at him a second. "You believe this?" "Believe? No. But I don't dismiss it out of hand the way you seem to."

  His answer outraged her. She slammed the journal shut and sprang to her feet. "We're not kids anymore, talking about daughters who return from the tomb and other zombies. You know things like that don't exist. How can you even suggest they do?"

  Zach patted her seat. "Sit down, cher, you're unbalancing the boat . . . or you might if you were a whole lot heavier."

  Liz felt suddenly foolish. Many people believed in spirits, both evil and good. Zach wasn't so off base in expressing such thoughts, but his easy acceptance of the possibility sent a strange shiver through her body.

  "All right." She reluctantly sat, put the journal on her lap and stared through the windshield.

  "Our parents did believe a lot of hocus-pocus, Liz. I don't deny that, but keep in mind your ma was a healer. She delivered most of the babies born out there in that swamp. The herbs she prescribed, well, many of them are the natural basis for prescription drugs. My ma never confesses to it, but I know she goes to the voodoo shops and tries to speak to my pa and Jed." He paused a moment to stub out his cigarette. "You seem angry about these beliefs, but our parents are who they are. We can't change that."

  The voice of reason, but the impetus for her anger seemed much more complex than just rejecting her parents' ways.

  "I suppose you're right. It's just . . ." She reopened the book and riffled through the pages until she found the one she'd been reading from. "There's more. Like this stuff about the guardian safekeeping the opal. Listen." Feeling another surge of outrage, she again read aloud. " . . by giving her life, if need be, to assure the fire stone falls not into Ankouer's evil grasp.' Now get this. 'In the hands of the guardian, the stone becomes the means of his defeat . . . Blah, blah, blah. What did I tell you?"

  She closed the book again. "The whole Ankouer myth troubles me. People take it to heart. I've been afraid to say it out loud, Zach, but there's more that worries me about Papa's behavior than his just forgetting his medicine. Ever since I arrived, he's gone on and on about being the defender and having failed Mama. His burden of guilt is so heavy . . . and so undeserved. Then he became adamant that I take the opal from Port Chatre. All because of a stupid superstition." She looked away for a second. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I don't want him out here alone. He could be delusional."

  Liz's admission sent Zach's hand flying for his flask. From what he'd seen of Frank, he figured the guy was hanging by a string. But hearing it from Liz's mouth? He preferred not to think in that vein despite the damning evidence in his pocket that suggested Frank had opportunity to kill Jed. His strong hands provided the means. And Liz had just given a motive by suggesting that his beliefs in an evil power had driven him to madness.

  "Grief does strange things," he said, forcing himself to let go of the flask without taking a drink.

  "I suppose it does." She lifted her feet, propped them on the console, and slumped a bit in her chair. "I'll feel better when we find him."

  "We'll find him, Liz, we'll find him."

  Liz met his earnest gaze and for a moment got lost in the crystal-blue eyes she remembered so well. It felt like the old times she wanted to avoid, going over her worries with Zach. And comfortable .. . something she'd prefer not to acknowledge.

  "Thanks," she said. "Talking about it helps."

  "Does that mean I'm good for something?"

  Liz smiled at his self-deprecation. "This doesn't sound like the Zach I remember."

  "Just being humble." He laughed so contagiously she couldn't resist joining him.

  Nothing had changed, but she did feel better, or would, if the sun weren't beating down on her so intensely. She hadn't been beneath rays this strong since she'd taken her folks to Florida a few years back, and her skin was already reddening. "You see any sunscreen in the bin?"

  "Think so." He gestured to his left. "Try the back one."

  She replaced the journal in the plastic bag, then slid it into a pocket of her overalls and buttoned it securely before going to search the bin.

  Sure enough, there it was, and she applied the lotion lavishly, but still felt hot and sticky. The water looked cool, and she eyed it with longing, then noticed the ramp gate that folded both in and out as needed. Walking to it, she pulled out the securing pins and brought it back, still folded, to lie on the deck. Next, she sat down, took off her shoes and socks, and dangled her toes in the rippling water.

  Instantly, she felt less overheated.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," Zach said. "Gators are all over the place. It's mating season."

  Except for the wake caused by their boat and the rush of water around a floating log a short distance ahead, the river was clear as glass."When did you become such a worrier? We haven't seen or heard an alligator since we started out."

  He made an annoyed sound, and she noticed he changed course slightly to avoid the log. Choosing to ignore his warning, she idly splashed her feet. The pirogue tied in front of the gate created small waves that washed deliciously over her ankles, and she couldn't resist leaning forward to scoop up a just given a motive by suggesting that his beliefs in an evil power had driven him to madness.

  "Grief does strange things," he said, forcing himself to let go of the flask without taking a drink.

  "I suppose it does." She lifted her feet, propped them on the console, and slumped a bit in her chair. "I'll feel better when we find him."

  "We'll find him, Liz, we'll find him."

  Liz met his earnest gaze and for a moment got lost in the crystal-blue eyes she remembered so well. It felt like the ol
d times she wanted to avoid, going over her worries with Zach. And comfortable . . . something she'd prefer not to acknowledge.

  "Thanks," she said. "Talking about it helps."

  "Does that mean I'm good for something?"

  Liz smiled at his self-deprecation. "This doesn't sound like the Zach I remember."

  "Just being humble." He laughed so contagiously she couldn't resist joining him.

  Nothing had changed, but she did feel better, or would, if the sun weren't beating down on her so intensely. She hadn't been beneath rays this strong since she'd taken her folks to Florida a few years back, and her skin was already reddening. "You see any sunscreen in the bin?"

  "Think so." He gestured to his left. "Try the back one."

  replaced the journal in the plastic bag, then slid it into a pocket of her overalls and buttoned it securely before going to search the bin.

  Sure enough, there it was, and she applied the lotion lavishly, but still felt hot and sticky. The water looked cool, and she eyed it with longing, then noticed the ramp gate that folded both in and out as needed. Walking to it, she pulled out the securing pins and brought it back, still folded, to lie on the deck. Next, she sat down, took off her shoes and socks, and dangled her toes in the rippling water.

  Instantly, she felt less overheated.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," Zach said.

  "Why?"

  "There're gators all over the place and it's mating season."

  Except for the wake caused by their boat and the rush of water around a floating log a short distance ahead, the river was clear as glass.

  "When did you become such a worrier? We haven't seen or heard an alligator since we started out."

  He made an annoyed sound, and she noticed he changed course slightly to avoid the log. Choosing to ignore his warning, she idly splashed her feet. The pirogue tied in front of the gate created small waves that washed deliciously over her ankles, and she couldn't resist leaning forward to scoop up a just given a motive by suggesting that his beliefs in an evil power had driven him to madness.

  "Grief does strange things," he said, forcing himself to let go of the flask without taking a drink.

  "I suppose it does." She lifted her feet, propped them on the console, and slumped a bit in her chair. "I'll feel better when we find him."

  "We'll find him, Liz, we'll find him."

  Liz met his earnest gaze and for a moment got lost in the crystal-blue eyes she remembered so well. It felt like the old times she wanted to avoid, going over her worries with Zach. And comfortable . . . something she'd prefer not to acknowledge.

  "Thanks," she said. "Talking about it helps."

  "Does that mean I'm good for something?"

  Liz smiled at his self-deprecation. "This doesn't sound like the Zach I remember."

  "Just being humble." He laughed so contagiously she couldn't resist joining him.

  Nothing had changed, but she did feel better, or would, if the sun weren't beating down on her so intensely. She hadn't been beneath rays this strong since she'd taken her folks to Florida a few years back, and her skin was already reddening. "You see any sunscreen in the bin?"

  "Think so." He gestured to his left. "Try the back one."

  She replaced the journal in the plastic bag, then slid it into a pocket of her overalls and buttoned it securely before going to search the bin.

  Sure enough, there it was, and she applied the lotion lavishly, but still felt hot and sticky. The water looked cool, and she eyed it with longing, then noticed the ramp gate that folded both in and out as needed. Walking to it, she pulled out the securing pins and brought it back, still folded, to lie on the deck. Next, she sat down, took off her shoes and socks, and dangled her toes in the rippling water.

  Instantly, she felt less overheated.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," Zach said.

  "Why?"

  "There're gators all over the place and it's mating season."

  Except for the wake caused by their boat and the rush of water around a floating log a short distance ahead, the river was clear as glass.

  "When did you become such a worrier? We haven't seen or heard an alligator since we started out."

  He made an annoyed sound, and she noticed he changed course slightly to avoid the log.

  Choosing to ignore his warning, she idly splashed her feet. The pirogue tied in front of the gate created small waves that washed deliciously over her ankles, and she couldn't resist leaning forward to scoop up a handful of water to dribble over her neck and arms. Heaven, pure heaven. It was hard to think about danger when everything around her was so beautiful. Feet still in the water, she let her gaze drift to the lush shore. Suddenly she saw a flash of intense color. Holding on to the rail of the boat, she leaned farther out, this time catching the hue of dusky skin.

  "Maddie," she said softly.

  "What did you say?" Zach asked.

  "Maddie's out there!"

  "Impossible. We've covered nearly twenty miles."

  "It's her, I swear!" Liz braced herself and was halfway to her feet when the log came alive with a hiss and sped toward the boat.

  "Gator!" Zach exclaimed. "Hang on, Liz!"

  He swerved, sending Liz reeling, but she clung tightly to the rail, staring in numb shock as the alligator rose from the water, wide jaws revealing rows of sharp jagged teeth. In the blink of an eye, the creature struck the bow of the boat. One hand still gripping the rail, Liz fell through the open gate and dangled, with her feet underwater.

  The reptile rushed toward her.

  She twisted to grab the rail with her other hand, and tried to walk up the side of the boat. The alligator slapped the water with its long broad head, and the ensuing wake caused her feet to slip. The creature was so close she could smell its rotten breath, and she whirled her legs frantically in her attempt to scramble up the side of the boat, never taking her eyes from the gaping jaws closing down on her. She knew what alligators did, how they clamped their enormous snouts around a body, then rolled and rolled in the water until the victim drowned. She'd read about it, heard about it, but, dear God, she'd never thought it would happen to her.

  A blur crossed her line of vision. An oar.

  Zach was standing above her, swinging the oar directly at the reptile. It connected with the alligator's snout. The creature hissed, then rolled in the water, reemerging to fight again.

  It was the diversion Liz needed.

  Her shoulder muscles screamed as she pulled herself up the water-slick side of the boat. A moment later, she flipped over the side and clawed her way across the ramp, its ribbed surface punishing her elbows and knees almost beyond endurance.

  An eternity passed, and then she was panting on the deck, every inch of her body aching. Curses and bellows filled the air, along with the sharp cracks of wood slamming against armored flesh. Liz forced herself to scoot off the gate and began pushing it back in place.

  "Forget it, dammit!" Zach shouted, swinging his weapon one more time. "Get away!"

  The alligator was still coming, swerving to escape Zach's repeated blows, but keeping its glassy eyes pinned on her. All she could think was that it would crawl up after them and swallow them whole, leaving nothing of them to bury. She had to stop it. With trembling fingers, she slammed the gate in place, fumbling for one of the pins. It slipped from her hand and the gate started to fall back.

  Zach shouted at her to move back, but she paid him no heed as she pushed the gate back up. Just as she nearly had the first pin inserted, the creature leaped straight out of the water, aiming for the ramp. Liz barely escaped before the gate came crashing down, and the abruptness of her movements sent her sprawling.

  Easy prey.

  The alligator seized the opportunity and lunged. It landed half in the boat, almost on top of her. Its long whipping tail repeatedly struck the attached pirogue, sending it into an obscene jig. Jaws of death snapped violently, heading directly for Liz's face. Half-sitting, she scooted back
ward, only to be stopped by the wall of the storage bench.

  No escape. None. She brought her arms up to cover her face. Images flashed in front of her clenched eyes. Her mother, her father, Zach and Jed, and then, horribly, her own shredded corpse being placed in a casket. She screamed.

  Then she heard footsteps in front of her. She opened her eyes just in time to see Zach drive the oar straight into the alligator's snapping mouth. The stout cypress withstood the onslaught for mere seconds before it fractured. Broken teeth and wood splinters scattered in all directions. The alligator fell back from the boat, turning and diving, only to rise and dive again. Churning water crashed around the craft with the ominous knell of storm-tossed ocean waves.

  Liz froze, bile rising in her throat as she watched the creature's spiked teeth savage the oar. Realizing with terrifying clarity that it could just as easily been her, she rose to her quivering knees. A touch on her shoulder made her jump, and a squeak escaped her half-paralyzed throat.

  "Goddamit, Liz!" Zach lifted her to her feet and shook her. An instant later, he pulled her close, then pushed her away and shook her again. She was too weak to protest or resist, and when he finally pressed her to his chest, she simply allowed her head to fall on his shoulder.

  "You little fool," he whispered hoarsely into her hair. "Don't you realize I couldn't stand to lose you a second time?"

  Chapter Seven

  That could have been you between the gator's jaw, Liz."

  He'd stopped shaking her and now had her close, so very close. His ragged breath warmed her face, and his heated, trembling body took her chill away. The boat moved slowly down the middle of the waterway, unmanned. Behind them echoed the sounds of the alligator crushing the oar.

  Liz shivered, letting Zach's strong arms enclose her, letting him take care of her the way he used to, back in that sweet time before she'd felt the need to flee.

  She lifted her face, wanting to taste again the honeyed flavor of his mouth. He cupped her chin, his steel-blue eyes reflecting the shade of the sky and coming to rest on her parted lips. His head dipped ever so slightly.