“Carl,” she muttered to herself. “What did you get me into?”
Page after page of police investigations, broken leases, and mysterious accidents swam before her eyes. At one point Jenna listened to the EVP’s recorded during half-hearted ghost hunts. What she heard was enough for her to rip the earbuds out and shove the tapes back into her purse. As she flipped through the pages her eyes caught a photograph of a painting of a handsome man. His eyes looked familiar and she felt heat rising in her body.
“Calm down, Jenna” she whispered to herself. “I know its been awhile but there is no sense in getting turned on by a ghost.”
The plane would be landing soon, and Jenna decided to take a nap to avoid the feelings that picture had stirred within her. She slipped a pillow under her head and closed her eyes. As she did so, she tried not to give too much credence to the horrors that she’d heard on the tapes. She fell into a restless sleep plagued by sex dreams. Unseen hands, caressed her body, moving slowly. The hands slid along her jawline, fingers softly traced her mouth. She reached out to suck the fingers gently but they disappeared. She lay still and the hands returned, urgent, searching. She longed for that touch. A touch like she had never experienced in her real life. The hands appeared at her feet, gently sweeping that amazing touch over them and up her legs. She parted her legs, wanting desperately for that touch. The hands disappeared again. Frustrated, Jenna lay still again. But the hands did not return. Just a man’s voice whispered to her. He only said one thing.
“Jenna”
3
They lost her luggage. She was supposed to meet her assistant, Mr. Niven from Cambridge, but he seemed to have fallen into a black hole.
By the time the rickety cab pulled up, Jenna was ready to strangle a man; any man who resembled Carl. The grizzled driver deposited her on the doorstep of a rat-infested hovel as her boss had ran out of money when he was booking accommodations.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she groaned. “I was better off at the airport.” She flung her backpack onto the stained carpet and unrolled her sleeping bag. She didn’t bother to undress.
Jenna wasn’t staying.
* * * *
After finally getting in touch with Mr. Niven, Jenna risked pneumonia by taking a cold shower in a tiny bathtub, while breakfast was a meagre offering of sugary tea with a side of soggy buttered toast.
When she met her hapless assistant at the train station, Jenna was groggy and felt a nasty migraine brewing. He was nice enough, she supposed, with tortoiseshell glasses and a head full of frizzy curls. But since she hadn’t slept well and hadn’t had a decent cup of coffee, Jenna was feeling bitchier than usual. The poor boy wisely decided to keep his distance while he debriefed her.
“I’m Marcus by the way,” he said cordially.
Jenna winced and offered her hand. “Jenna.”
He smiled, revealing a set of dimples in his soft cheeks. “Well, is it normal for Carl to send a newbie all by herself?”
“I’m not a newbie,” she grumbled, too tired to defend herself. “I helped with the Waverly Hills investigation.”
“Oh...?”
“Later,” Jenna said irritably. “What have you got on Blackmoor?”
“Well,” he began, pulling a folder from his bag. “The last investigation didn’t turn up much. And the last tenant won’t talk to me.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Though I tried.”
“What happened?”
“It was a group from Wales. A few tourists decided to tag along. You know, amateurs.”
“Yeah.”
“They went in and ran out ten minutes later.”
Jenna couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Ten minutes, huh?”
Marcus nodded, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. “They have footage. But it’s mostly a lot of screaming and running about. Not much. No EVP’s either.”
“That’s a shame.” Jenna glanced out the window, stifling a yawn. “So where are we staying?”
“I booked us a couple of rooms at the local inn. And a Mr. McKendrick will be waiting to accompany us as well.”
“That’s a relief. I thought I was going to be all alone.”
Marcus shook his head. “He won’t be staying with us for the investigation. He’s only driving us up. After that, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
Jenna laughed again. He sounded like he was going to Disneyland. “Eager to get your ass handed to you by Casper, huh?”
He grinned. “I’ve been waiting a long time to get into Blackmoor. This will make or break my career.”
She nodded. “You and me both.” Jenna glanced at his bag. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat, would you?”
Marcus pulled out some cheese crackers. “Will these do?”
Snatching them greedily, Jenna popped one into her mouth and smiled. “I think you’ll do, Mr. Niven.”
They napped for the remainder of their journey and arrived in the midst of a raging thunderstorm. Jenna shivered and pulled her sweater closer about her, wishing she’d had the foresight to pack a coat. Carl had been nice enough to relay weather information for July. Marcus was unperturbed and simply covered his head with a newspaper as he ushered her into the station.
Jenna shook off the rain while Marcus went to see about their cab. Soon they were crammed into the backseat while the driver jerked and raced his way through the countryside in an attempt to make it home in time for dinner. After he dumped them alongside a swollen bog, Jenna gave him the finger, and the old bastard just laughed.
Cursing under their breath, they hoofed it across two lanes of traffic and collapsed in a muddy heap. “I hate that man,” Jenna said bitterly. “So much for English hospitality.”
“Don’t let it get to you,” Marcus said, helping her up. “We’ll eat and get some sleep. Tomorrow we go to Blackmoor.”
“Good.”
After a lukewarm supper of roast beef and potatoes, Jenna took a long soak in a hot bath. Despite the warm weather, she felt cold and donned her sweats. She was in bed by eight and was relieved when Marcus knocked on her door the next morning.
For some reason she could not explain, she was eager to get to Blackmoor. She could feel it calling to her.
Mr. McKendrick, the castle’s caretaker, arrived the next morning. He was a sharp-faced man who walked with a noticeable slump. Jenna felt nauseous when he took her hand but she shook the feeling off. This whole trip was making her tense. Mr McKendrick drove as a steady drizzle blighted the windshield. Twice the wheels stuck in the mud and poor Marcus had to get out and push the car. Jenna silently vowed to murder Carl as the boy began sneezing and she handed him a tissue.
“So,” Mr. McKendrick said. “What are two nice kids like yourselves doing here abouts?”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “We just wanted to see what everyone was talking about. I mean it is the happening place to be, right?”
He laughed, struggling with the transmission. “That’s right. But I got to tell you it’s not the best place to be at night. Are you sure you two know what you’re doing?”
Marcus sneezed again. “We do,” he sniffed. “We’ll be perfectly safe.”
The man didn’t look convinced and muttered something about kids today. “Well, I don’t want it on me head when you go missing. It happens sometimes.” He began chuckling to himself and Jenna felt that same nausea slowly creep back.
“Just drive, Mr. McKendrick. We’ll do the rest.”
He let them out at a quarter to four with a warning. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he told them, fetching their equipment. “Whatever you do, stay out of the blue room.”
“Blue room?” Jenna repeated. “Why?”
“Just stay the bloody hell out of it,” the man barked, “if you know what’s good for you!” With that ringing in their ears, Mr. McKendrick jumped into his car and left Jenna and Marcus outside in the rain.
“Geez,” Jenna grumbled. “Wha
t’s with him?”
“Don’t let him get to you,” Marcus laughed. “Let’s get this stuff inside.”
“Sure.” She glanced up at the imposing derelict and felt a thrill of excitement slither up her spine. Jenna could have sworn she saw someone peering down from a window. “I thought he said this place was deserted.”
“It is,” Marcus said, frowning. “Why?”
“Because I just saw someone upstairs.” Jenna held her breath, hope rose in her chest as she remembered the dreams she had had on the plane.
Marcus eyed her warily, and they began the arduous task of hauling in their equipment. “That’s the last of it,” Jenna wheezed finally, collapsing onto a duffle bag. Marcus nodded and proceeded to unpack and set up the video monitors.
“We should put a camera in the kitchen and the rear staircase.”
“And the third floor master bedroom,” Jenna reminded him. “Don’t forget about Lady Balen and her unfortunate head.”
“Eww,” Marcus grimaced. “I forgot.” He handed her a camera. “You set it up. I’m afraid of heights.”
“Sure you are.” Jenna sighed and eyed the long, winding staircase with dread. “If I’m not back in an hour, send a search party.”
“Ha-ha,” he tossed back. “Very funny. Get going.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jenna began the slow trek up the crumbling relic, and as she neared the top, felt she was being watched. “That’s right,” she murmured. “Keep watching.” she added a sexy swing to her hips as she continued mounting the stairs.
Somewhere she thought she heard the deep rumbling of a man’s laughter. But it was easily dismissed when she reached the landing. Jenna ignored the hairs prickling at the base of her neck and set up the camera. After that task was completed, she decided to explore a bit and hoped to capture a few EVP’s.
“Marcus,” she said into her radio. “I’m going to have a look around.”
“Okay,” his voice crackled back. “I’m almost done setting up the monitors. Check back in ten minutes.”
“Alright.” Jenna tightened her grip on the radio, investigating the first room she came to.
The extraordinarily handsome man’s portrait hung in the corner and Jenna slowly walked up to it, taking in every detail. “Very handsome,” she whispered to herself.
It was a full-length portrait. The types nobility usually sat for in the 18th century. “Maxim Ravencroft,” she read. Jenna was taken aback by the intensity of his eyes. They were his most striking feature. Glittering jewels of blue topaz, they seemed to follow her every move. His face was simply beautiful. That was the only word Jenna could conjure to describe the god before her. Max was garbed in riding attire, a shock of thick black hair waving from an equally splendid brow. His nose was straight in its aristocratic delineation and flared slightly with arrogance.
And what about his mouth?
Jenna’s breath caught slightly at the full sensuality of his lips and found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
Jenna fell back on the massive four-poster bed and her breath caught in her throat. She felt a presence near her. “Is there anyone here?” called out softly. “If you’re here, say something.”
Jenna, suddenly remembering her job, picked up the radio off the bed and noticed the batteries completely drained. “Well, that’s what I get for buying wholesale.” Jenna flung it aside in frustration wondering if she should quit while she was ahead.
A temporary lull in the storm brought a minor reprieve, but just as quickly, the rain returned with a vengeance.She shook her radio thinking the batteries would magically come to life “Marcus,” she called into the radio. “Marcus, how’re you doing?”
A man’s terrified scream broke the stillness. “Marcus?” she shouted, tearing out of the bedroom and clambering downstairs just in time to see her assistant yank the door open with a look of sheer terror on his face. “Marcus! What is it?”
He didn’t answer as he stumbled outside in the pouring rain, tripping and splashing into a pool of mud. Marcus shook it off and fled down the road, leaving Jenna bereft and utterly alone.
4
“He left me,” she repeated in a daze. The door was standing wide open and lashings of wind and rain seeped in and left her soaked. It was then she heard a man’s voice, deep and succinct.
“Close the door.”
Jenna turned around in confusion. “What did...you say?”
“Close the door before you join me!”
“Oh!” she gasped, feeling chilled to the bone and shut the door. “How could he leave just like that?” Jenna demanded, gathering her wits. “What am I supposed to do in this mausoleum all by myself?”
Jenna nearly gave herself whiplash as her head whipped to and fro, trying to discern the owner of that voice. “Where are you?”
“Everywhere.”
Jenna crossed her arms over her chest, feeling as if eyes were undressing her. “But who are you?” she whispered.
“Best light some candles. It’ll be dark soon.”
Jenna knew she’d start cracking up sooner or later. It did run in the family. But she thought she had at least forty years before she ended up like dear Aunt Edna.
“No, my dear,” the voice drawled. “You’re not mad.”
“Stop that!” she screamed. “And stay out of my head!”
His laughter rang out; a rich, delightful sound that sent warm shivers dancing along her body.
“As you wish. But change out of those clothes. I have no wish to see you join me in death.” A velvety voice whispered causing Jenna’s breath to quicken.
“What is wrong with me?” she thought to herself. “Why does my body respond like this, when I should be scared?” she mumbled as she rifled through her backpack for dry clothes. She struggled out of her wet jeans. Her dripping cotton shirt clung to her body. She felt eyes on her, taking her in. She moved slowly feeling a warmth in her groin as she imagined the man in the painting watching her, admiring her. Her breath slowed and she moved her hands her her body. She thought she could hear deep breathing coming from the corner of the room. “You like that?” she whispered. She slowly moved her hand up her body and over her breasts. She closed her eyes. She moved her hands down her body and slowly into her underwear. The air in the room stilled. She swore she could here deep breathing from the corner of the room.
“Max?” she whispered.
Suddenly, a crash of lightning pulled her out of trance.
“What am I doing?” she shook her head and just like that the spell was broken. After tugging on torn jeans and hoodie, she made her way to the kitchen. Jenna sat down and poured herself a cup of tea. She felt the presence again.
“Okay!” she yelled, sitting up suddenly and overturning her chair. “This isn’t funny! Come out so I can see you!”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Are you a ghost?”
“Am I?”
“Are you going to hurt me?”
“Now why would I want to do that? You are my guest. I think you will find yourself unable to leave until I let you.”
She cried in frustration. She ran to the door and found it barred from the outside.
“Perhaps, you should rest. Don’t worry I will make your stay memorable. I haven’t seen a woman as beautiful as you in a long time.”
She could feel those eyes on her, all over her body. “How long have you...been here?”
“What year is it?”
“2015.”
“Ahhh. It’s been a long time.”
Jenna fumbled in her pocket for matches and lit a few candles to stave off the darkness of the castle. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where I can sleep tonight?”
“My room.”
“Your...room?”
“Are you afraid of me?”
Jenna gave a little laugh. Truth be told, he made her excited. “Um... I don’t think so. Why? Should I be?”
Her hand strayed unbidden to the messy knot of hair she’d arranged that morning. “I’m a mess.”
“A beautiful one.”
Jenna blushed. Somehow she could sense him grinning and it made her warm all over. “Is there anyone else here?”
“Just me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I used to be. Not anymore.”
“Why is that?”
“You’re here.”
Her eyes widened and Jenna couldn’t speak. “I—I think I’ll go upstairs now.”
“Come.”
“Okay.”
He led her upstairs through darkened passageways. When she thought she might fall, she felt the brush of his hand against hers and knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “I can’t see anything.”
“Don’t look down.”
Jenna let him lead and was relieved when a door opened and flames lit up the fireplace. He urged her to sit and she curled up into a tattered chair.
“Warm enough?”
“I should have brought a blanket,” she said, yawning.
“Sleep then. You are safe with me, sweet Jenna.”
“How did--”
“Shh! Sleep first. Questions later.”
Jenna drifted off, feeling a brush of his hand against her hair.
5
Jenna was cold and shivered in her sleep. Then she was warm. She felt him pressing himself against her back and sighed. “Max...?” she mumbled. “Is that you?”
“It’s all right, love. You’re safe.”
She nestled closer, sighing as he pressed soft kisses against her hair and ear, the tickling as if made by the delicate brush of butterfly wings. “Max,” she sighed again. “Is that...your name? You’re the man in portrait?”
“I am.”
Now sleep, my angel.”
“Sleep,” she murmured dreamily, falling into an easy slumber in which she danced in his arms.
VAMPIRE: PARANORMAL: Out For Blood (Vampire Alpha Shapeshifter Romance) (New Adult Paranormal Fantasy Short Stories) Page 43