Itsy-Bitsy Spider

by Dale Mayer

  Until she had heard Stefan’s whispered words. Focus on the good. Let the rest alone.

  Words of wisdom. From that moment on, she’d focused on being grateful for the miracle of her son glued to her arms. And her anger drifted away. Leaving sadness behind. They’d missed so many years.

  But you weren’t alone all that time, were you? Stefan said quietly. Remember about telling all your secrets?

  Sure, but I still don’t know what you’re talking about, she’d said in confusion.

  Someone was with you and has been since you went looking for your son.

  The pinkish-lavender energy? That was Reese, wasn’t it?

  No, Stefan said, a gentle humor in his voice. It wasn’t. But it’s important that you find out who it was.

  He’d left at that point. She stared down at her sleeping son, remembering all the times she had thought of him as the lavender energy.

  And she could see the energy around her sleeping son right now, but it wasn’t lavender.

  Neither could she feel the lavender energy around her now. “Hey, Reese, you there?” she called out quietly.

  Nothing.

  Frowning, feeling like she’d lost something special and not understanding why, she slowly made her way back to Kirk’s bed, where she’d slept last night. She slipped under the covers.

  Kirk’s arm wrapped around her and pulled her close. “Feel better now that you checked he’s still here?”

  “I had to,” she said apologetically.

  He chuckled. “I know. I’ve checked too.”

  She shifted up on her elbow until she could look down at him. “Really?”

  Opening his beautiful silver-blue eyes, he stared up at her and nodded. “Really.”

  Her heart gave a happy sigh. She beamed at him, loving his need to make sure his son was safe. Then she lowered her head to kiss him. “Good. I’m glad to hear that,” she whispered before she brushed her lips against his.

  Tucked up safe and warm in bed in the early morning hours, their son sleeping a wall width away, being held by the only man she’d ever loved—well, if this wasn’t what everyone would call perfect, she didn’t know what was.

  She slid a hand up his bare chest to gently brush his cheek. “Did you have plans today?”

  His lips quirked. “Not today. Except maybe to stay in bed with the woman I love for as long as I can. What do you think? Have we got an hour before Reese wakes up?”

  “Longer if we’re lucky.” She grinned. “And, as I recall, we never had a problem taking our time in bed. Of course it’s been a while, so I might have forgotten.”

  “In that case, I suggest we refresh your memory,” he whispered, reaching up to hold her gently, lowering her down until their lips met.

  She let out the gentlest of sighs as pleasure rippled through her. It was sheer joy in knowing they’d come to this point, joy in knowing the pain of all the last few years was over. They were older, wiser, and so much better off today. And to think they had this moment, this point in time for just the two of them.

  What a gift …

  And she planned to enjoy it fully.

  The gentle blending of mouths, accepting each other, was an aphrodisiac all in itself. Passion was slow to rise, but like any dry kindling, once the heat built, the fire wasn’t far behind. Moving with slow assurance as someone who knew and was delighted with a gift inside a wrapped package, Kirk gently undressed her, showing pleasure with every change in her body since giving birth.

  Her breasts were plumper, and they flushed pink as he cupped them gently, laved the nipples with his tongue. He buried his face between her breasts for a long moment, then murmured, “They are more beautiful than ever.”

  He took one nipple deep into his mouth and suckled. She cried out at the deep pulling sensation in her belly. Then he turned his attention to the other one. By the time he was done and moving to her ribs, she was mewling like a kitten.

  “Dear Lord, I’d forgotten,” she gasped as he nibbled on her hip bone, holding her firm as she twisted beneath his ministrations.

  “I’ve never forgotten,” he growled out passionately. “I was so damn confused, hating myself for my actions. But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about you, wondering how you were.”

  “And yet you didn’t call me.”

  “I was going to,” he admitted, gently stroking down her legs. “If you hadn’t contacted me, I’d promised myself I’d come find you.” He lowered his head and kissed her hip bone, letting his tongue trail up to her ribs. “I would have to.”

  She reached down and tugged his head toward her. He scooted up and kissed her passionately, letting her know how he felt about their years apart. The pain of their separation and the loss … God, the loss.

  When he lifted his head, she was limp but needed so much more. She tugged him back down to kiss his again, her thighs widening to make a place for him. “You’re home now,” she whispered. “Just as Reese is.”

  He shifted his position so he was at the center of her body and held himself slightly aloft. “Not quite.” And he slid inside.

  Her body wept with joy as he filled her completely. She shuddered in his arms, already throbbing for more.

  He leaned down, kissed the tip of her nose and whispered, “Now I’m home.”

  And he started to move.

  Faster and faster, deeper and deeper, until she couldn’t muffle her cries any longer, and he took her lips, his tongue driving deep in a matching rhythm. She let out a strangled cry, her body arching as the climax swept through her. He didn’t pause but drove right through to let out a heavy groan on the other side. Shaking, his body still trembling in the aftermath, he rolled to the side and just held her close.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks; she could hardly breathe, and talking was out of the question. She stared around the room, wondering at how her life had changed.

  A light laughter—one she knew well—filled her heart and mind.

  “Reese?” she whispered. But it couldn’t be—could it?

  “What did you say?”

  “The spirit I connected with before—the one I thought was my son—is here,” she whispered.

  Kirk shifted so he could look round the room. His gaze spun back her way. “That purple pinky thing?”

  She stared at him. “You can see him?”

  “Yes.” Kirk nodded. “But it’s faint. Like a mirage almost.”

  “Yes, it’s always been that way. But I can hear laughter when he visits.”

  Kirk pulled the sheet up over them both. “So who is it?”

  She didn’t know but watched from the circle of Kirk’s arms as the lavender energy floated closer until it was over her. It started to shrink into a smaller but more intense ball hovering in front of them. She gazed at it in fascination. “Who are you?”

  No answer, just more laughter.

  Then it lowered until it rested on her belly. And dropped lower yet again.

  She gasped, her belly sucking in tight. But it sank lower and lower until it disappeared—inside her. She gazed at Kirk in shock.

  “Did that just happen?” Kirk cried.

  Just then Reese came running from the other bedroom. “Mommy, Mommy, she’s here.” His face was alight with excitement.

  “Who’s here, honey?” Queenie asked, opening her arms.

  He tumbled up onto the bed and laughed. “Melly is here.” He reached over and patted her tummy. “She’s in here.”

  “And how do you know that?” Kirk asked, sounding dazed.

  Queenie understood how he felt because she wasn’t much ahead in this thought process.

  “Melly told me,” Reese said proudly. “And I believe her. She said you’d come for me. And you did. And she said she’ll be with us soon too.” His face screwed up as if trying to remember what he’d been told. “But she said we’d have a little wait first. But we should talk to her. So she doesn’t get lonely.”

  And finally Queenie got it. A little slow but, given what
she’d been through, maybe that was understandable. She smiled, a gentle loving smile, her hands covering her belly protectively. “So, my pinkish-lavender energy I was so sure was Reese wasn’t my son,” she whispered to Kirk. “It was our daughter, … waiting.”

  “Waiting? For what? And does this mean what I think it means?”

  “It does indeed,” she said with a beaming smile. “She’s been waiting, just like you and Reese. She’s been waiting to come home.”

  This concludes Book 13 of Psychic Visions: Itsy-Bitsy Spider.

  Read the first Chapter of Unmasked: Psychic Visions, Book 14

  Psychic Visions: Unmasked (Book #14)

  Chapter 1

  Lacey, intent on capturing the photos she’d been asked to take, jolted when she heard Sebastian approach—that deep rumbling growl of his in the background.

  He didn’t fit her concept of an archeologist in any way. Yet, he seemed just as comfortable here among the rocks as he did as an angry overlord at the airport when he had first arrived. She could imagine him commanding a big company. It had something to do with his presence, that sense of power which emanated from him.

  Heavy footsteps sounded the team’s approach. Trying not to make it obvious, she quickly took photos as they studied their vandalized tools, very much needed to do this job properly.

  His striking voice was hard as he demanded, “Are you sure you locked everything up, put everything away?”

  Her cousin Chana said, “Yes. We have a routine. We do it every night.”

  He straightened and pivoted slightly.

  Lacey pointed her camera and caught that jaw, the nose, the aquiline cheeks. Click. Click. Click. Then catching Chana’s gaze, quickly Lacey turned away. Chana stared and then frowned as she understood what Lacey had been doing.

  Feeling the heat roll up her neck and cheeks, Lacey hid behind the camera. She changed the angle ever so slightly to get a panoramic view. She slowly, methodically took pictures of the entire circle around her. If nothing else, it would provide a hell of a memory afterward.

  Finally the group walked toward him, standing still. Lacey stayed behind, taking pictures of the broken tools and footprints. It was so fascinating to see where people walked now versus where they had walked thousands of years ago. She couldn’t help it. She bent close and took photographs of one shoe imprint and then another and then another.

  “What are you, a detective?”

  She gave a shriek and spun around to see Sebastian glaring at her. She took a deep breath, trying to stabilize her shaky hands. “I was thinking of the contrast,” she said steadily but had enunciated very carefully, so there was no misunderstanding. “Of footsteps today versus the footsteps of a thousand years ago.”

  He stared at her suspiciously for a moment before he relaxed and gave her an approving nod. “That actually could make quite a story.” He turned and strode away.

  She let out her pent-up breath, only to suck it in again as Chana whispered angrily in her ear, “What are you doing?”

  “Taking photos,” Lacey said, hating her defensive tone. “What was I supposed to be doing?”

  “You don’t need to be taking pictures of the boss.” Chana spun on her heels and followed Sebastian.

  Lacey stayed where she was, needing a few minutes away from the group and Chana’s prying eyes.

  Lacey wandered the section, seeing stairs appearing out of the dirt. No way to know how far down they went because the ground met the seventh step midway. They hadn’t excavated any farther. She walked to the top of the stairs and snapped a photo as she took every step down, thinking about the people who had walked these stairs, carrying burdens, holding children by the hand—the old, the young, the weak, the pregnant. She moved carefully, and, where the stairs stopped, she bent to capture that partially buried step from many angles. The wonder of the past meeting the present flowed through her.

  She gave a happy sigh and slowly straightened to realize she wasn’t alone. She looked up to find Sebastian staring at her, an odd look on his face. She frowned and asked in a low voice, “Have I done something wrong?”

  He shook his head and pointed to where she’d been crouched. “What is it you see?”

  “I see where the past meets the future,” she said quietly. “And I guess that probably sounds frivolous, but I look at it from behind the camera. I see the collision, not of the past with the volcano, but as the future reaches deep into the past.”

  That odd look crossed his face yet again. His gaze intensified as if probing into her psyche, holding her captive by his will alone. She stood uncertainly, her fingers fidgeting on the camera. And then, as if she had been finally released from his hold, he gave a quick nod and spun away again. Shaky, she sat down on one of the steps and took several deep breaths. What the hell just happened?

  *

  He would have to find out more about his new photographer. Something about her was … familiar, … odd, … insightful. She was a puzzle. He loved solving puzzles of the past. Puzzles of the present never interested him. They were too young, held no mystery, no depth. But something about her went beyond deep.

  He really liked the answers she’d given to his questions. He could see an old soul reaching through the centuries. Did she realize she’d been drawn here and why?

  He glanced back to see Lacey sitting, taking several deep breaths as if he’d unnerved her. Fine if he had. She’d unnerved him too. He walked toward Chana, seeing her stiffen, waiting for his condemnation. “If anything else happens, no matter how minor it may seem to you,” he said in a stern voice, “I want to hear about it, and I want to hear immediately. Do you hear me? You don’t call anybody else, including the rest of the team. You pick up your phone, and you dial me.” He leaned forward just a bit, satisfied when she leaned back reflexively. “Do you understand?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded. “I am sorry.”

  “I know you are,” he said absently. His mind had already moved forward. “I’ll be in Pompeii for the next week. We have lots of fundraising and a board meeting. I’ll be on-site a lot. So, when you least expect me, I’ll be here.”

  And with that warning and a hard look at the rest of the group, he turned and walked away, satisfied the team would follow his orders. Still, there was nothing like seeing things from his own eyes too. What he really wanted was to see what Lacey saw. He stopped at the edge of the dig, turned and called back, “Chana, come here please.”

  She raced over.

  “What’s the deal with Lacey again?” He watched the color blanch from her face. He shook his head. “It’s fine that she’s here. I just don’t remember what the arrangement was.”

  “She’s a middle-school history teacher, out for the summer holidays. I told her how we had lost our photographer, and she volunteered to come. She’s really, really good. But she’s not a pro, and we’re not paying her,” she said very clearly. “But we are covering her costs.”

  He shot a glance toward the woman who, even now, was absorbed in a pattern of rock on the ground just off to the side. The mystery of what it was, what it had been, remained buried beneath the ground. Her aura was cream-colored and glowing brightly, even from a distance … “Okay, that’s fine.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her,” Chana said quickly. “She’s my cousin. She’s really doing this as a favor for us.”

  He nodded absentmindedly. “I said it’s all right. I do want to see the photos she takes.”

  “I didn’t get her to sign an agreement,” she said quickly. “If that’s something you want, then we have to give her a contract.”

  His mind contemplated the issue. “I’ll think about it. Depends on how willing she is to share her photos.”

  “She does this for joy,” Chana said. “For the love of the world around her. She has a very unique insight into everything.”

  “And why is that?”

  Chana lowered her voice. “I honestly think it’s because she spent years caring for her dying mother—tr
ied to make each moment count before she lost her. No treatment was working, so they knew the end was inevitable, and yet every day they tried to do something to make that day special. After her mother passed away six months ago, Lacy continued the practice. And coming here has been a dream of hers since forever. All I ever heard from her was how she wanted to come see Pompeii.”

  He’d just taken a step away when he heard that last bit. He spun around and looked at Chana hard. “What do you mean?”

  He watched as his team leader shrugged her shoulders. “Honestly? She saw a documentary when she was young, like six or seven. Since then it’s all she’s talked about.”

  “And this is her first time here?”

  Chana nodded. “I really want to make it a good visit for her. She deserves that. She’s a good person, and she spent a lot of years of her life making her mother’s life easier every day.”

  He kept his thoughts to himself, but he couldn’t keep his gaze off Lacey. What did she see behind that lens of hers? Did she see the people of the past? The death and disaster? The good? The evil? Did she see the masks?

  Voluntarily taking that walk of grief was hard. He’d only seen one person do it well—his own mother had nursed his sister to her early end. It took a lot of spirit, a lot of heart, but it could also break someone. And the breaks could be hidden inside where no one knew. That could make them weak, make them easily accessible, make them susceptible to all kinds of dangers.

  He could admire what she’d done, but she needed watching.

  A lot was going on here that nobody knew about, that nobody understood because they couldn’t relate to the dark forces underneath. But anybody who had been called from halfway across the world, with a need instilled at such a young age—well, that meant that person needed to be here. He just didn’t know why. But he’d find out. His visit just became open-ended. He didn’t dare leave the site and Lacey alone …

  Things happened here. People were doing things they weren’t aware of. He’d seen the anomaly before—once, as a young man, just starting out at a Mayan ruin dig, where there’d been similar incidences to what he saw here. Only back then, they got much worse… ending with several deaths.