by Ginny Lynn
Following the line of the arm up to the face, I looked into topaz eyes that held immense longing. I could feel his pain, like the blood that cooled against my captured hand.
“No. You mustn’t,” he said softly to me.
I heard voices echo him but no one was with us in that frozen moment. I wish the voices had been people there to take me out of this forgotten place, but the voices had no bodies to claim, not anymore. They felt as old as the land under my feet and as cold as the chill that slipped down my spine.
“The blood can’t be on my hands.” My reply didn’t sound like my usual voice. It was a bit huskier, sexier. Somehow I knew it was me but in a different world. Maybe I had aged by decades in this vision or maybe the voice did belong to someone else. All I knew was it felt like a part of me. There was no explanation for the rest. Most times, I was lucky to even get a clear image that lasted more than a couple of minutes.
“I’ll clean the blood away, cher. It won’t bother you again this day. I promise.”
With those words, he gently pulled my hand to his lips and licked a clean line from my fingertips to my beating wrist. Instinct had me wanting to yank my hand back and rub it against the cotton surrounding my fear stricken body. Everything in me screamed to run, yet somehow I couldn’t move away from him. I had to get far from this place and never return. Something was wrong here, something beyond my metaphysical knowledge, and I was grateful for the ignorance. I knew then that I couldn’t walk away. It was clear to me now.
He continued to cleanse my hand, as I fought not to look at him. He was a cat and I was the bowl of cream which rewarded his deeds of the day. I didn’t believe those deeds had been just or good but I wasn’t to know what that meant. I peered up at his eyes and they glowed like a bonfire. I screamed and lifted from my nightmare.
Chapter Three
Blinking my heavy eyes open, I took in the concern in his eyes and his creased brows.
“Back up,” I lightly grumbled as I reached to push him away but stopped myself. I wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to attempt it right now. Touching him had just caused one vision and I wanted to avoid dipping back into that cemetery scene again as the trip had worn me out faster than any other vision before. I’d like to think it was because of the lack of sleep obtained but it was more like it had been a stronger vision than normal for me.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just get off of me so I can breathe.”
“You are breathing, my dear.”
“Stop calling me that, and I won’t hyperventilate if you move a safer distance away from me.”
He straightened up, and I realized my body was lying across his lap at the front steps. Oh lordy.
Levering myself into a sitting position had me too close to those eyes again. My attempt was less than graceful when I stumbled to my feet, and it took me putting both hands on one of the walls to stop the front door from spinning into the twilight zone. I’d end up with another vision as my nerves felt like living steel drums, which beat a monotonous tune inside my pumping heart. I used my breathing techniques to slow the rate down and then cared to look at the man who had caused all of this.
“Why were you lurking in the doorway?”
“I wasn’t. I was simply coming in after watering some of the plants in the yard and caught a woman fainting in the doorway. I do have things to do around here, Miss.”
At least he hadn’t said my dear again. Another positive was him thinking that was a simple act of fainting instead of my classification as a freak. I didn’t know him well enough to tell him the truth, so I let him think me a weak female.
“What do you do around here and where is everyone else?” I used my anger and changed the subject before he asked anything too personal.
“The staff is busy and I do whatever is possible to keep this place up.”
“You’re making a habit of not fully answering my questions. It seems you either love pulling peoples chains or you are too good to spare the time with a low woman on life’s totem pole. Are you looking down your elegant nose at me? Were you lying about Mr. White not telling you about me? Where is he anyway? Have you heard from him at all?”
Kenrick just blinked at me. I was starting to count to ten, if I didn’t get any real answers by nine then I’d be in the house by the time I hit ten. He smirked at me by seven and my blood pressure peaked. The hell with eight and nine, I stomped back into the quiet house. Taking my frustration out on something else, I decided to check out the rest of the house and the staff presumably running it. My grandmother had written about a few people in her employment during the renovations she oversaw. Maybe one of them would be amicable. I could only hope.
After thirty minutes of touring on my own, on the main floor, I still hadn’t seen anyone else around. Were they all on the second and third floor, maybe outside, or even had the day off? It was Saturday, so their being off could be a safe bet as no one entertained with my step-grandfather passing on. Well, if he had any gatherings after my grandmother had died. She’d told me in her first letter after meeting him that she loved Theodore Fenmore and had positive vibes about the house he’d been refurbishing in hopes she would live with him there. He had told her she was the second wind blowing into his lonely life, and she had said that moment had been very romantic. In hindsight, the only creepy thing I picked up on in her written correspondences was her never mentioning Mr. Giles. I wondered why.
What if he was a squatter and I had spent the night under the same roof with him? Had he been stealing from the house and I’d interrupted his plans to loot the place of everything? I shot back to the main entrance as my mind fleetingly imagined leaving my belongings before heading to some backwoods hotel for the night. I felt like such a total waste of space lately. I had nowhere to go, no money to get there, a sexy stranger as a roommate, and no one to save me within several miles. I was in a stew pot of my own making. These were the times I wished I carried a gun.
I was too close to the last vision to push my luck. I sat on the window seat outside the foyer where I meditated for a few minutes. If Mr. Kenrick Giles showed up, then he could just wait until I was calm enough to deal with his flirty attitude. Being more tired than suspected, I ended up deeper in my safe place than I had thought possible when this keyed up. I shouldn’t ever be surprised with my unscrupulous power, no matter how naive I seemed to be. Realizing I had been in here for longer than the intended few minutes, I shook myself back to reality and a less morose frame of mind.
Tummy growling, I headed to the kitchen for a bit of food. There was no telling what there would be to eat if anyone even cooked around this hulk of a house. I walked back to where I’d found the kitchen in the back section of the house, farthest away from the front entrance. No one was there. What the hell? I opened several normal looking doors to see a nice sized pantry of various dried and canned goods, plus one that was not food at all but a walkway so dark it held a heavy oppression.
Cold, stale air wafted over me from the old door. Did it lead downstairs or to a path which took you outside around the house to the barn I’d seen in the distance from one of the kitchen windows? Houses this old could even have hidden passages or service hallways from days long gone. If I ever got to speak to Mr. White, I would add that to my growing list of questions. He may be the only one who could, or would, give me the details needed to see what my future held.
I found the fridge behind another door, and it seemed interesting how they’d made it look like any other door in the room. Was it a way to blend the room into a more seamless look ahead of its time or because the builder liked to throw people for a loop when they came around? It was a bit creepy for my taste as I was used to a simpler lifestyle. I’d hunt Kenrick up for some answers if it would do me any good. He may think I’m insane after my episode earlier. That could be a positive if he was a prowler thinking I was easy prey. If I was crazy then my chances at being left alone were rising to a whole new level. No matter how drawn I was
to him, there was no need for him to keep showering me with sexy pick-up lines.
At more complaints from my midsection, I put together a small sandwich from the array of fixings in the fridge doors. I was surprised to see a small assortment of goodies since I wasn’t seeing a crew that would be eating them. If they’d had the day off then maybe that was the explanation but a growing ball of nerves was in my stomach at the thought that I truly was alone with an unknown attractive man; a male which kept coming to mind when my eyes were closed. The knot in me had me gulping down the food, with a glass of cold milk, before I took myself back to my room. If I was alone, then I would hope to be safe behind a locked door while I waited for the appearance of Mr. White, if he even bothered to come by. Wait. I’d only seen one phone, and it’d been a cordless by the kitchen pantry. Just another bad sign for my frazzled piece of mind. My basic service cell phone had no connection out here so I wasted my time even turning it on since the dial tone went from high-pitched static to cryptic nothing. Now my bad luck had run from my car to my housemate and into the blasted phone lines. A notepad would be needed if the list of things to question got much larger.
Cleaning up my small mess, I headed to investigate more of the house as I impatiently waited for Mr. White to show himself. If I was lucky, I’d be able to skip seeing my unfortunate housemate. A part of me hoped he would be gone for the rest of the day, especially after I freaked out in front of him, but the other part of me was curious about him and his good looks. He wasn’t my typical type, but then again, what was typical about me? Thinking it over, ticking off the pros and cons, I understood the chemistry in his eyes. They held something that speared right into me. His shoulders were nice and surprisingly broad for such a slender waist and he had long legs with graceful lean hands. Full lips and tousled hair the color of chocolate dipped in caramel were tied for second on my list of favorites on this male menu. But his mesmerizing gaze of amber laced with mischief intent entranced me.
Since this was the wrong topic to be thinking on, I forced myself to keep walking the halls. The door in front of me seemed to have cool air seeping from it, like the door in the kitchen. Silence surrounded me so I knew no one was in that quiet room. It gave me the courage to slip the door open and see if I was correct about a breeze from an open window. Wow. Not only was I right but I was in a library worthy enough to make any book lover weep. The scents of leather and old paper rode the air coming in the fully open window by the mahogany desk. Beside a vintage picture of a rose garden, I saw a high-backed chair in a warm gold hue. Grabbing up a leather-bound volume of poems, I sat in the chair and decided to occupy my time while I pondered topics for my expected guest. If the lawyer was going to show.
After reading a few, the pages blurred. I rubbed at my eyes but I still fell into a half-dream state of languor. A knock came to the door but I didn’t feel like opening my eyes so they would gaze upon a man who would only annoy me, so I let sleep claim me. In my subconscious, I thought out all the ways an encounter could turn out if I had been awake. Or he could have thought I was ignoring him, as he deserved that much after his flirtations last night. I joyfully dreamed his pride was injured by my refusal to quit the pretense at catnapping. The version that played had him striding up to me anyway, the arrogant bastard. I fought to keep my eyes from flickering around under my closed lids as his warm breath caressed my nose. If I was lucky, then he’d take my guise for truth and leave me to my peace. The only man I wanted a conversation with was the elusive attorney.
I felt the brush of fingertips at the wispy bangs that tickled across my skin with his deep exhalation. It’s like he breathed a sigh of relief that I was unaware of his presence. As if. I couldn’t stop my nose from wrinkling as he ran a feather-light skim across it. Damn, I was betraying my act. Quickly, I acted as if I swatted away an annoying fly, close to the truth, and kept my eyes closed as I readjusted in my chair. I had slumped enough the hood of my sweatshirt wadded behind my neck and would be bound to cause a cramp if I had to carry this act much longer. I was enjoying my little acting bit as a way to put a dent in his narcissistic armor. But he wasn’t leaving. In fact, I heard him move a piece of furniture in front of my still figure. What the hell was he up to?
His shadow fell over me, as the light was more firmly blocked away from my hooded vision. My body tightened, tense enough now to flinch if he touched me again. My heart thudded a harsh beat as I fought my mind to calm my fleeing courage. And I did jump. Something light pressed against my limp mouth and as I betrayed myself, so did my mind. The pressure got heavier and heavier as he made his presence known. The idiot was kissing me. My eyes flew open as I acted as if he woke me from my nap.
Sitting up quickly, he took advantage of the situation and claimed my shoulders in his lean hands. I blinked up at him as if I was a deer waiting to be hit by the karma bus. It wouldn’t have gone this far if I had banished the act and told him to go the fuck away. I mumbled against his lips but the compression of his kiss didn’t allow me to do anything but get a small gasp out. That was all he needed. He tugged me closer to his body as he sat on the footstool I had glimpsed by the loveseat. I was moved so quickly I had to stabilize myself before I possibly fell off the edge of the chair.
My hands were on his knees and his arms stole around my upper body as it unintentionally slid forward. A grunt came from me and his kiss became more than pressure, more than a chaste stealing of the moment. His legs opened, pulling my braced body closer to his. In a rapid move, I placed my palms against his chest and had every intention of pushing this cretin away from me. How was it possible for him to think this was going to be allowed? Was he insane?
Maybe I was the one who had lost their mind because instead of pushing him away I fisted my hands in his cotton shirt. He needed to be off of me. So why wasn’t I stopping him? I was actually taking part in the kiss. If you count my lips joined with his as an acting part of this madness. A cold breeze arrowed in through the open window and seemed to push between us. A cold flick of a windy hand as if to deter us. I shivered. A soft growl came from the man in front of me and it shocked a gasp out of me. That’s what tipped the balance to his side as he took my open mouth in an exploring kiss.
He treated me like a first taste of some new exotic dish on a delicate gold-rimmed plate. His tongue delved in and took his time as he tasted me. It was how I approached a fine piece of dark chocolate. He savored the sensation as he melted against me. His tongue rasped against mine as I sat stock still in his arms. I lost it as he slipped a hand into my hair and massaged my scalp. I’d always loved having someone play with my hair but had never had it done like this, in a kiss. I met his kiss and his hunger seemed to go up a notch. He was devouring this piece of chocolate and may well be on his way to finishing it off.
Another breeze came through the room and wrapped around us like a cold and clammy hand. It bathed me in a coldness which brought me back to my senses. I jolted away from him as if the wind had smacked me back to the chair. His desire filled eyes looked at me in utter surprise as his stool suddenly pushed away from me in a wild gust. What the hell? The wind whipped back to me as it slapped against my flushed face. Then my book hit the floor with a thump which woke me up.
Jumping so hard, I almost fell out of the chair. When I looked around my book was indeed on the floor, but how had I incorporated it into my dream? The window was still open but the drapes were in total disarray, as if the wind had been as real as the book which had fallen from my startled body. Was I losing my mind or was the house just bringing out my fears? I had to shake it off and not let these little things throw me into a tailspin. That had happened once and I wasn’t about to be hospitalized again. Not like before. Not ever again.
I picked up the book and shelved it back in its home on the floor to ceiling bookshelf. There were so many books I could live here for years and not run out of things to read. I even glimpsed a few of the occult and witchcraft among the well-read classics. Here there was no dust to cover t
he rich leathers of the old bindings. It was as if they had been saved from a life of abuse. If only we could all be protected like this. It made me ache but I shoved it away, as usual, to go about a life that I had to fix. I seemed to be the kind of person who walked around being covered in invisible bandages, waiting to be healed. One day, I would be. I had vowed to myself on the day I had been admitted for being a hazard to myself. I had to carry that burden on my own two thin shoulders.
Silently clicking the door closed on the strange moment in the library, I moved on to another part of the house. This and the books were the only things I could do to occupy my time as I waited for the next step in my disheveled life. I found my way out the back terrace doors of the main living room to find a greenhouse in the distance. It was the old-fashioned type with warped green glass and rusty metal girders. Breathtaking in its solemn state, I was drawn forward.
It had a neglected stone walkway which had seen better days but you could see the details of the swirls drawn into the cement as it had dried. The larger picture showed a vine carrying you into the open doorway of the building. How charming? Even if slightly neglected, the greenhouse was still in use as there were tomatoes, flowers, and herbs in the boxes in rows by the tall green-tinted walls. The herbs were carefully labeled and the flowers ranged from a few orchids to a small leafed poinsettia. Where the library had been chilling yet welcoming, this was an unsettling warm embrace against my jagged nerves. Shivering, I pushed away the image of a demon breathing its molten fire at me.
It was growing dark as I finished my tour of the greenery around me. Suddenly, a beam of headlights floated down the front wall of the greenhouse. A car was creeping up the graveled driveway of the estate. Dusting off my hands, I made my way up to the end of the driveway so I could get a better view of who was gracing us with an appearance. I calmly waited as I rubbed a new chill from my limbs and hoped it was the attorney bringing me good news. If the temperatures persisted then I may need heavier clothes, if my meager budget allowed. My case only had about two dozen pieces in it, which were mix and match items streaming from business casual to just plain slouchy. I might have to bundle up in layers of the more summer attire or just place a throw around my shoulders like a wrap, for moments like this one. I normally wasn’t so sensitive to cold but this place could seep into my bones. My thinking had me wondering if I was moving from ghostly cold spots into monster riddled staleness while trekking from place to place in the estate. I couldn’t put into words the eerie sensations that prickled across my skin in some of the areas I had stood in.