All in Bad Time

by Yvonne Montgomery

  "Danica. What a lovely name. It means morning star, you know. From the Greek."

  "Yes. Even as a kitten she'd wake me up at the crack of dawn, so she named herself."

  Noreen glanced down at the feline face peering through the mesh window of the carrier. "I'm sure she's a wonderful kitty. Don't worry, she and Strudel will soon come to an understanding."

  Eve followed her into sprawling room, amply endowed with places for everyone to sit. At the far end was a large fireplace where flames burned brightly. Pillows and throws in a multitude of colors overflowed from a large wicker basket beside the hearth. Rose had already tucked herself into a plaid blanket, her feet resting on the hearthstone.

  Noreen surveyed the inhabitants on the sofas and overstuffed chairs like a general viewing her troops. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Neal wedged in the corner of the gold sofa, Andrea in the circle of his arms. "Neal, you'll have to relinquish your place. Eve needs to stretch out her leg in front of the fire."

  "No," protested Eve as Neal stirred and pushed himself up. "You mustn't move on my account."

  Neal hoisted Andrea to her feet and nudged her toward the fat blue chair nearby. "No worries," he said with a grin. "We'll have better cuddling over here. Make yourself comfortable. And welcome."

  Eve lowered herself to the sofa, and leaned against the arm with a sigh. She lifted one leg, then the other, to the thick cushions and closed her eyes. "Thanks. This is wonderful. Do you think it's okay if I let Danica out?"

  "Of course," Rose said. "She can explore." She blinked sleepily. "I wonder if we have any cat litter somewhere around here."

  "I brought a small bag." Eve unzipped the carrier top and folded it to the side. "She'll come out when she feels comfortable."

  Rose stiffened, an apologetic look on her face. "I haven't even introduced myself. Rose Hertzberg, Wisdom Court director. I'm so glad you're finally able to be here."

  "I liked your acceptance letter," Eve said and Rose smiled.

  Brenna had set the cornbread onto the coffee table and gone to the basket by the fireplace. She pulled out a fringed purple throw and brought it back to Eve. "It tends to get cold in here, so let's put this over your legs."

  Eve blinked, mortified that her eyes were dampening. The combination of warmth and kindness was almost too much, and she had to fight off the desire to let out the fatigue and pain she'd been living with. "Thank you."

  "You've had a hard time, haven't you?" Aura Lee had returned from seeing to Strudel, slipping into the big chair near the sofa.

  Eve took her extended hand, nodding, viewing the splendor of the lavender robe Aura Lee had put on, complete with gold ribbon edging. Her Titian red hair was upswept, exposing gold infinity symbols dangling from her earlobes. Eve reached for the glass on the coffee table and Brenna leaned in to top it off.

  "We need some of that," Kerry said as she and Max came through the door. "It's getting colder in the rest of the house." They plopped down on the loveseat opposite the fireplace and Kerry shot a hopeful glance at Brenna. "Please, sir, may we have some and then some more?"

  Brenna sniffed. "Pathetic Oliver Twist."

  Kerry wrinkled her nose. "No one likes a critic."

  "How cold?" Rose asked, an edge to her voice.

  "Not icy," Max assured her. "At least, not yet." He took the glass Brenna held out to him and handed it to Kerry. When he had his own, he lifted it in a salute. "To peace in this world and the next."

  Noreen blinked at him. "Without hope life is but a barren garden of regret in an arid land. Samantha Porter Simmons, eighteen thirty-three to eighteen eighty-nine."

  "Cheerful." Aura Lee sipped hot tea and smiled at Eve. "How did you come to break your leg?"

  Eve roused herself to answer. "A stupid accident. I've specialized in them for the last few months." She didn't catch the flicker of interest in Rose's eyes. "You know, misplacing things, losing others. Breaking my leg."

  "What kind of things?" Max asked.

  Eve smiled in pleasure at his British accent. "Hmm? Oh, keys, jewelry, the usual."

  She fell silent and closed her eyes. When Andrea cleared her throat, she jerked upright. "Sorry. Can't help drifting off sometimes." She took another drink of brandy. "To make up for what I lost, I started finding things, too. Where they came from is anybody's guess." Probably talking too much, she thought and then mentally shrugged. Have to keep the conversation moving.

  "And what sort of things were those?" Noreen asked in a gentle voice.

  "A small bag of herbs or something, like potpourri, was on my kitchen window sill one morning. I didn't remember buying it."

  Brenna blinked. "Potpourri?"

  "Too big to be a teabag. Didn't like the scent of it so I threw it away." She wrinkled her nose. "Too pungent." She sipped again, enjoying the floating feeling creeping up her legs. And her pain wasn't as bad as it had been. Who cared if they had weird spirits writing on their walls? The pain was actually fading.

  "What else did you find?" Aura Lee asked. She hadn't taken a drink, just held her glass tightly.

  "Not much. In my bag, an odd little... doll, I guess. I went by a playground on a walk. A child could've dropped it in my bag by mistake." She made a sad face at the memory. "Hope it wasn't a treasure. No way to return it."

  "Rose?" Aura Lee began in a thoughtful voice, but subsided at the look Max gave her.

  "This happened recently?"

  Eve shook her head. "Months ago. I had it propped up near my computer."

  "What does it look like?" Max smiled when she looked at him in question. "Just curious."

  "It's handmade, a kind of ragdoll, I think. Muslin body the shape of a person, stitched along the edges. One of the legs is torn; I keep forgetting to mend it. It's stuffed with greenish straw. Yellow yarn hair tied in a bow." She frowned into her glass. "Did I bring it with me?" She blinked. "I don't think so."

  "How was it you broke your leg?" he asked. "Auto accident, perhaps?"

  Eve smiled. "I don't drive much, get too distracted. I was carrying a laundry basket down the basement stairs and skidded on a patch of water on the first step down. The basket fell in front of me and luckily that's what my head landed on. Otherwise I'd be crazier than I already am." She glanced at her legs with a grimace. "My leg twisted under me and I hit hard at the bottom of the steps. I'm such a klutz," she added lightly, glancing up at them. They were all staring at her. "What?"

  Neal was frowning. "Where did the water come from?"

  "The water?"

  "On the step. Were there pipes in that area? Were they leaking?"

  Eve frowned back. Strange guy. "I don't know where the pipes are." She summoned a hazy notion of the plumbing in her basement. "The washer's along the wall opposite the stairs, I think."

  "So where did the water come from?"

  Eve gazed at him, stomach tightening. She hadn't given it a thought, what with lying in a hospital bed with her leg in traction. She hadn't examined any of the things happening over the last months, not until the strange words showed up on her computer the last few nights.

  "I don't know." She met Neal's gaze. "Do you have any ideas?"

  "Maybe." He glanced at Rose, raising a brow in question.

  Rose shrugged and Aura Lee leaned forward. "Your peculiar little doll could be a poppet. They're used to personify someone the maker wants to affect with a spell."

  The nerve on the side of her leg throbbed and Eve rubbed her hand along it, face tightening with pain. "So what does that have to do with me?"

  Noreen cleared her throat. "You said one of the doll's legs was damaged. Which one?"

  Eve felt her expression freeze. She took a short breath. "What are you getting at?"

  "Which leg, Eve?"

  She hadn't seen Max retrieve his notebook from the table, but he was already uncapping his pen.

  "The left," she whispered.

  Aura Lee was looking at her with concern. "You've heard of voodoo dolls, yes?"

  "Ah, l
et's leave all that for later," Max interjected. "Don't look so nervous." He smiled at Eve with sympathy. "We're attempting to identify patterns in order to explain the situation at Wisdom Court. If what has happened to you is in any way connected, we all need to know about it."

  Eve felt pressure against her ears and had the sensation that she was slowly falling. He—they—were serious. "What is the situation at Wisdom Court?"

  "Ghosts," Aura Lee said promptly. Her face fell as Eve stared at her. "It's true. We've all experienced them."

  "I told you strange things have been happening here." Kerry flicked a look at Max. "You saw what was written on the kitchen wall."

  Eve closed her eyes. I shouldn't have had the brandy. I'm stuck with these crazy people and I'm too tired and tipsy to leave.

  "Eve?"

  She flashed suddenly on the sound of another voice calling her name. It had been a man and this was a woman's voice. He'd called her Evie. Before she could follow the thought, she felt a touch on her arm and she stiffened.

  "Eve, are you okay?"

  She opened her eyes. "I've had too much to drink."

  Brenna was standing beside the couch, looking down at her with a frown. "We shouldn't have talked about this now. You're probably tired after traveling."

  Eve nodded and pushed herself up, shifting her legs off the sofa, wincing at the familiar throb. If she could just get a few hours' sleep, if she could be alone and not have to hide what she thought of these maniacs... "I'm tired, not tracking the conversation well." She tried for a light laugh, but sounded to herself as if she were choking. "A nap would be good," she added hurriedly. "If you can put me up for the night, I'd appreciate it. I can leave tomorrow, since so much is going on here."

  "Eve." Max was standing beside Brenna. "You don't have to be afraid."

  "And yet I am." She wanted to bite her tongue, should've bitten it before she opened her mouth. "Sorry. I need to get some rest."

  Rose got out of her chair and came to the sofa. "Of course you do. Hush," she said to Max as he began to protest. "She's exhausted. All this will wait until later."

  Eve accepted Rose's help in getting to her feet.

  Andrea came around the coffee table and picked up the cat carrier. "I'll take you upstairs to my room." She glanced at Neal. "You can flex your manly muscles and carry the suitcase."

  "Always happy to serve." Neal picked up his flashlight and snagged a couple of glasses off the coffee table. "Dishwasher?"

  Aura Lee nodded. "Have a good nap," she told Eve.

  Noreen leaned back in her chair. "I wouldn't mine one myself. See you later, Eve."

  Eve waved a hand at them and followed Andrea out of the room.

  Time Out of Time

  His eyes fixed on the shifting flames, tracing the wisps of smoke hiding amongst them. He had detected the woman's psychic trail more strongly than ever. Inside him power dragged at the leash, sending heat through his veins. He felt his eyes change. The yellow film overlay the coals.

  "Sir?"

  He whirled at the sound, a feral snarl twisting his mouth. In the doorway stood his servant, his face blanching in fear.

  "Never interrupt me here! How many times have I told you?"

  The man stepped back. "My apologies, sir, but—but you instructed me to announce Mr. Fitch when he arrived." Edging into the hall, he added, "He is in the drawing room." He closed the door behind him. The latch clicked.

  The struggle to harness his mind held Severn still. Damn him, damn his ignorant soul. His breath centered him and the raging subsided.

  He cursed himself for crossing into the opening of the ritual. He had to control all aspects of the practice or disaster would result. He could not allow himself to be seduced. He approached the keyhole desk and pulled open the center drawer. The silver knife he withdrew flashed in the light and he turned his head away from it. Although his full alteration had been averted, the process had begun and he could not force the initial effects to disappear. He must contain them.

  He drew the blade across his palm, breath hissing at the sharp pain.

  His voice ground as the blood began to flow.

  Emissary, breed the fear.

  Shake the nerves, obscure the clear.

  Carve the message, twist the knife.

  Make the victim fear for life.

  Create once more the need to flee.

  As it is now so mote it be.

  He held the knife in front of him like a crucifix, hilt on top, lips curving in a terrible smile as light flared from it again. Cruel satisfaction bubbled in his veins even as his hand shook.

  "Maintain the control." He clenched his teeth and sliced again. "Maintain the control."

  Joy burnt like lava under his skin. The servant had seen. He must die.

  Chapter 4

  The sand stretched all the way to the horizon. She fought to keep her balance, but the box she carried was big, and too heavy. She had to place her feet perfectly into the large, deep footprints in front of her but it was so hard to see around the box. A presence was behind her, hunting her. Her foot disappeared into an imprint and she struggled to move her other leg forward. The menacing sound was closer now.

  Evie, wake up.

  She couldn't see the next footprints and she couldn't remember where she was going. She had to get away. If she didn't bad things would happen. Terrible things.

  Evie, wake up!

  Eve gasped, a voice ringing in her ears, and felt the weight across her legs shifting sideways. She opened her eyes to a shadowy room and reached toward her knees. Her fingers brushed against her laptop, now headed for the edge of the bed. Grabbing it, she held it tightly to her chest. She hadn't been using it before she fell asleep. Had she? Who spoke to me? Where am I?

  The laptop hummed and she fumbled to open it. Lines of type were marching down the screen. We are coming for you. We are coming for you. The words rolled down the page like a waterfall.

  What was she doing in this room? She struggled to recall how she'd got there but her mind was foggy with dream remnants and a deep fatigue.

  The surface of the cheval mirror glimmered, sparking her memory. This was in Andrea's room at Wisdom Court. She'd come to take a nap because she'd been so tired. She'd had too much brandy. The weird people downstairs had talked about ghosts and hauntings. Eve shivered and closed the laptop, pushing it aside, wrapping herself in the thick comforter. She didn't want to go back down there, didn't even want to walk across the carpet. Staying in bed was the only protection she had. She snuggled into returning warmth. She knew hanging her hand over the edge of the mattress would let an appalling something grab it and pull her under. But under what? She floated between time and sleep. Under everything.

  Her eyelids were growing heavy and despite fear she sank closer to sleep. Her mind lapped against the edges of the dream, and she turned onto her other side, burrowing further into the comforter. I don't want to be afraid anymore.

  Don't let them in, Evie. It was the voice from before.

  No one calls me Evie anymore. She drifted into slumber.

  * * *

  The morning sun was wrapped in ragged clouds, cold and gray as a street beggar. Sparrows vied for seed from the feeder hanging outside Rose's workroom, marauding squirrels whipping their tails about as they gleaned what fell to the ground below.

  Rose finished the email to the Wisdom Court membership committee and reread it, wondering again if she was doing the right thing. She clicked on the send icon and closed the server. At the tap on the door she called, "Come in."

  Noreen entered, teacup in hand, and saw Rose at the computer. "Sorry, am I interrupting?"

  "No." Wishing she could stop second-guessing herself, she glanced at Noreen. She'd been an administrator—in spades—serving as headmistress of a girls' school. "I asked the membership committee to email Eve Stewart's paperwork."

  Noreen perched on the chair beside the desk. "Why, if I may ask?"

  "She came here with no warning." Ro
se's tapped her fingers against the desktop in a reflexive motion. "I woke up in the middle of the night wondering if she is who she says she is. Her story about the poppet and the sachet... it freaked me out. Don't you think it was awfully... convenient? Something to tell us that would undercut any suspicions we might have? The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I felt."

  "Hmmm, it shows how different people's reactions can be. She struck me as fairly straightforward." Noreen paused to sip her tea. "Do you really think anyone would try to break into Wisdom Court to confront us?"

  "Anyone? We're already dealing with fifty shades of haunting. Why not a person? Of course they'd try."

  "I suppose so." Noreen considered the birds outside the window, flapping wings at each other for access to seed. "If we surmise an organization intent upon regaining the money Duncan took from the old earl."

  "I'm not so worried about the money. Much of it has to have been spent. It's the talisman I'm afraid of." The black stone with a glowing red oval at its heart was described in Clara's first journal and its image had begun to haunt her dreams. "The old Romani woman's sheer terror at the sight of it is what sticks in my mind. If I really want to obsess about something, I spend time wondering where it could be hidden. Add to that what we've read so far in the second journal, especially Clara's belief that the earl would still try to find her. If we're somehow in the crosshairs of the group that worked with the old earl to sabotage England's war efforts, then we need all the paranoia we can muster."

  The lines on Noreen's eyes deepened, and Rose thought about her age. She was the oldest of them, another worry.

  Rose lowered her voice. "We don't know Eve. Most likely she's legit, and I hope she is. But I'm going to double-check with the committee to make certain."

  "That's good strategic thinking, my dear. After hearing her describe what she's been going through, I'm having difficulty being objective." Noreen moved her head in a sharp little nod. "Considering the possible results if she isn't what she seems, I'm glad you're in charge and I'm not."

  Rose felt the familiar burn of frustration in her gut. "I wish I knew why Caldicott didn't tell us about what went on in her earlier life. She should have warned us! Everything that's happened in the last few months has put us in greater danger. Why did she leave us so vulnerable?"