by Barb Hendee
The memories she’d seen were still fresh in her mind, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the differences in how Bernadette had taught him to hunt. They didn’t put their victims to sleep, nor did they replace memories. Rather, they dazed their victims and then simply blurred the memories. Perhaps that was how Bernadette’s maker had taught her. There was so much Eleisha didn’t know about her own kind in the distant past.
But poor Ivory. No matter how desperate Christian had been in the moment, she’d been turned against her will—and so brutally. Eleisha had experienced the same horror herself long ago. As soon as she could, she would try to offer more open friendship to Ivory. They had one thing in common.
As she closed the door behind herself, she paused, just glad to be alone. At least that emotional scene with Christian was behind her now. She could spend a few moments in the bliss of solitude.
But then she turned to head down the hallway, and she froze midstep.
Philip was standing ten feet away, leaning back against the wall, taking in the sight of her gown, hair, and makeup. His arms were crossed, and the muscles in his face were tight.
“I thought you were playing cards,” she said weakly.
“You were gone so long I came looking for you. I knocked on this door, and no one answered,” he said. “So I looked inside and saw you sitting on the bed with him. I knew what you were doing, so I waited out here.”
He sounded so cold that she couldn’t help feeling a fresh rush of guilt, as if she’d been doing something wrong.
“I was just… I was reading his memories.”
“I know.” His eyes moved down to her bare arms, and he motioned to the gown. “Why are you dressed like that?”
Normally, he’d be thrilled if she wore anything besides a broomstick skirt and a T-shirt. But again, for some reason, she felt the need to defend herself. “He said we had to look the part.” She held up the clothing in her arms. “These are for Wade.”
He looked at the clothes for a long moment and then nodded, but his expression was still cold, and she wasn’t quite sure why.
Wade’s jaw nearly dropped when Eleisha came into his guest room carrying some slacks, a shirt, and a sport coat.
The front side of the dress she wore left little enough to the imagination, but when she turned to drop the clothes on his bed, his eyes ran across her shoulder blades. The skirt of the gown fit snuggly to just above her tailbone, and her entire back was bare.
“That’s a new look for you,” he said.
Then he saw that Philip was standing in the open doorway, frowning. The tension flowing from his body was almost visible.
“What’s wrong?” Wade asked.
“Nothing,” Eleisha answered. “But Christian says we need to look the part tonight. Could you put these on?”
As Wade glanced down at the clothes, Philip asked, “Do you need me to help?”
The suggestion that he needed assistance to dress properly for the evening was a tad insulting, but Philip’s tone had been sincere.
“No, I think I can manage to put on some slacks and a dress shirt,” Wade answered, struggling to keep the sarcasm from his voice.
“All right.”
Philip came inside and closed the door. Eleisha turned away so that Wade could change. “I’m sorry we have to rush you like this,” she said, “but we’re expected downstairs. Dinner must nearly be over by now.”
Her words registered, but again, he found himself looking at her back. It was so pale, without a spot or blemish, and her shoulders were so tiny. He glanced at Philip, who didn’t meet his eyes.
Oh well. The show must go on.
Wade changed his pants quickly. “I’m decent now,” he joked, pulling his Blue Öyster Cult shirt over his head and reaching for the dress shirt. Christian’s clothes fit him fairly well.
“Have you eaten anything?” Eleisha asked, turning toward him.
He motioned with one hand toward a side table. “Yeah, Simmons brought me a dinner tray, but he said that Christian had ordered it.”
“How thoughtful,” Philip said dryly.
What was wrong with him? Wade buttoned the shirt all the way to the top and reached for the jacket, but Philip came striding over. “No, don’t button it all the way like that if you’re not wearing a tie.”
Wade sighed and let Philip adjust the shirt. Then Philip picked up the jacket, and Wade slipped both arms in. Philip straightened it and brushed at it with one hand.
“Just like having a valet,” Wade said.
“You wish,” Philip murmured.
“If you two are finished, we really should get down there,” Eleisha said, opening the bedroom door. She sounded edgy.
Wade threw her a questioning glance, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes either.
Instead, she led the way, and both men followed her one floor down, then through the overstuffed living room, and finally though an open archway into a room with a large round table sporting an ornate candelabra.
Vera, Christian, and Ivory were already there, sipping red wine from long-stemmed glasses. There was also a young man in a dark suit, but Wade didn’t notice him much at first. He couldn’t seem able to take his eyes off Ivory tonight, not even during the card game earlier. She had on a low-cut black evening gown that didn’t cover any more skin than Eleisha’s, but whereas Wade had found Eleisha’s state of dress surprising, he had a different reaction to Ivory’s. It made the blood pound in his ears.
She ran her gaze up and down his jacket, and she smiled slightly, raising her glass.
For the first few seconds, he didn’t hear anything that was being said around him. Then he was aware of Vera leading him forward toward the man in the suit.
“Justin, darling, this is Wade Sheffield. Wade, this is Justin Michaels.”
Wade was vaguely aware of shaking the young man’s hand and saying something appropriate, but he had no idea what. He was too busy trying not to stare at Ivory.
Vera finished the introductions, and someone stuck a martini glass in his hand. He drank it for the sake of the alcohol even though he didn’t really like martinis—and he’d never liked olives.
It was only when Christian finally called for everyone to sit down that Wade realized he had absolutely no idea who this Justin Michaels was or why he wanted Christian’s help, and then it dawned on him that Christian probably hadn’t been given any information either.
That was part of the game.
“Sit by me,” Ivory said in Wade’s ear, and he looked down to see her at his shoulder, the small diamond pendant around her neck reflecting candlelight. He just nodded and sat down.
In spite of the fact that she was in such close proximity, he managed to keep his mind clear, and the truth was that he couldn’t wait to see what happened next.
Eleisha sat with Christian on one side and Philip on the other. She was still edgy from her earlier experience with Christian and confused by Philip’s cold demeanor, but she was determined to get through this séance with good grace—and then go put something else on and give this dress back to Ivory.
After reading Christian’s memories, she had a good understanding of how some of this worked. But she’d not yet seen Ivory take an active role as the “conduit.”
Just as she settled in her chair, she felt Christian inside her mind.
Stay with me. Follow everything I do.
Reaching back, she tangled her thoughts with his, and she heard Ivory’s mental voice so clearly.
I am here, too, Ivory projected.
Eleisha forgot everything else as she allowed herself to become focused on this experience of being connected to them both at the same time—but from inside Christian’s mind.
What about Philip and Wade? she projected.
No. Christian answered. That would be too many conflicting voices. You can explain it to them later. Just stay with me. Just observe.
Then, without any warning, Christian was inside Justin Michaels’ mind, reading his though
ts, digging deep.
Of course, the man’s basic reasons for being here were all on the surface, easy to see, and within seconds, Eleisha knew everything. The story was ugly and sordid. But she was still getting accustomed to being inside Christian’s mind as he read Justin. This method of telepathy was unsettling and exciting at the same time.
“Justin, who is it you are trying to reach?” Christian said aloud.
“My mother… Her name was Irene.” He leaned forward in his chair, and his eyes were intense, almost hostile. Eleisha watched him carefully. He was short for a man, perhaps five feet six inches, with a stocky build. The suit he wore didn’t flatter him. His neck was too thick, and she thought he might look better in more casual clothes.
“I don’t need you to ask her anything.” Justin bit off the words as if they hurt. “I just need you to tell her something for me, and then I want you to tell me exactly how she answers. I’ll know if you’re really talking to her.”
Justin didn’t believe Christian could contact his dead mother. Eleisha could see that in his mind—via Christian’s mind—but he was desperate. He was willing to try anything.
“Of course,” Christian answered. “I’m only here to help with whatever you ask me to do.” His voice was so compassionate that Eleisha couldn’t help turning to look at him. From the sympathetic expression on his face, if she didn’t know better, she would have believed he had no agenda here other than to help Justin.
Christian closed his eyes. “Irene Michaels, hear me. Come to me from the other side. Come and speak to your son through Ivory.”
He was silent for a short while, and then he repeated the same phrases. But Eleisha barely heard him. She was seeing images of Irene in Justin’s mind.
“She’s here,” Christian said, opening his eyes, “standing right beside you.”
Justin didn’t look in either direction or make a sound.
“She’s a delicate woman with pale hair,” Christian said, smiling now. “Her features are soft, and she’s wearing peach lipstick and a gray wool suit.” He squinted slightly. “There is a scar running through her left eyebrow.” He paused and spoke directly to the empty space. “How did you get the scar, Irene?”
Staring straight ahead, as if lost in a trance, Ivory answered, “When I was a girl, I tried to put a doll’s dress on our family’s cat.”
Justin gasped and gripped the edge of the table. Thick sinews stood out on the backs of his hands. But Eleisha could see Irene so clearly in his thoughts, along with quick flashes of his memories regarding his mother. She had told him that story about the cat. The physical picture Christian painted was perfect, and he was feeding Ivory answers.
“What is your message, Justin?” he asked.
“Just tell her I’m sorry.”
Christian looked to the empty space beside Justin’s chair. “He says he is sorry.”
Ivory continued staring straight ahead as she spoke. “You should not have put yourself through all this, Justin. You’ve been suffering needlessly, and I have nothing to forgive. You were in love, and you could not have understood that Amy was filled with poison.”
Christian turned to Justin. “Does that mean anything to you?”
Justin sucked in a loud breath. His mouth twitched from pain, and Eleisha was almost overcome by an impulse to put a stop to this. She could see Christian feeding Ivory the exact words he wanted her to say.
But Eleisha and Ivory already both knew what Justin wanted. Through Christian, they could see it and feel it all, turning and churning through his mind.
Justin was from Texas, and his family had made a fortune in oil. He’d had been close to both his parents until he’d fallen obsessively in love with a young woman named Amy Sheriche. His mother was ill, diagnosed with breast cancer, and so he was surprised when she began tiring herself even more by expressing open reservations about the girl. Then, when Justin announced his engagement, his mother had expressed more than reservations. She’d told him to break it off, that Amy served only herself, that Amy didn’t love him, and that she was a gold digger who’d do anything to get what she wanted. The scene had been awful, with Justin shouting back, ending with him walking out and refusing to see his mother again. Three weeks later, she died. When he got the call, he was stunned and blamed himself that he’d not even told her good-bye. But then…
“I’m so sorry for what you had to go through,” Ivory spoke again, “for what you walked in on.”
Justin’s grip on the table tightened, and the hostility returned to his eyes. “What? What does she think I walked in on?”
Christian asked the question aloud.
“You saw Amy in bed with your father,” Ivory answered. “You were right not to go to their wedding, but you have to forgive him now.”
Justin sucked in another loud breath. But his eyes were desperate and far too bright. He leaned over the table toward Christian. “You’re talking to her? You’re really talking to her?”
“Yes.”
Eleisha wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take, and she could feel her hands trembling. Christian gripped down harder on her fingers, and Philip glanced at her and frowned. At this point, neither he nor Wade had much of an idea what was happening.
Justin sobbed once, and he seemed to be trying to get ahold of himself. “Ask her if she really forgives me.”
“Irene,” Christian said, “Justin needs to know if you forgive him.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Ivory said, still looking straight ahead, seeming lost in the trance. “From the time you were a boy, I always loved your temper. Your spirit. You had no way of knowing I would go so quickly, and you were still hurt by the things I said. But you must forgive your father and make peace with him. He is all you have left.”
Eleisha could feel something easing inside of Justin. He’d desperately wanted to forgive his father, to forgive himself, and Christian had made certain he’d heard all the right things. Her hands stopped trembling, and she wondered that if amid this sham, amid the fact that Christian was doing this only for the money, maybe he had helped Justin after all.
“She’s gone now,” Christian said. “We’re alone again.”
Justin slumped forward, weeping silently, and Vera got up, hurrying to his side.
Eleisha disliked deception. But didn’t she use it herself on a regular basis in order to feed? The most unfamiliar thought appeared unbidden in her mind, that this evening had been exciting, and she wondered what it would feel like to sit in Ivory’s place and speak all the right words to someone who needed to hear them.
Christian hadn’t felt such a thrill from a séance in more than a hundred years. The feel of Eleisha inside his thoughts, following the drama of the moment, seeing and feeling everything he controlled and manipulated…well, it brought more than simple pleasure.
She wasn’t like Ivory. She wasn’t a natural-born confidence trickster. She’d been mentally gasping through the entire experience, and she’d made him feel so alive.
He wished they had another client lined up tonight so he could do it all again. But he had a more important task, and it couldn’t wait. He had to strike while the moment was right, and he knew how to play this. He knew what she’d respond to.
So while she was still sitting there, holding his hand, recovering from the shock, he carefully, quietly sent an emotional impulse into her mind.
What would it be like to sit in Ivory’s chair? What would it be like to help others by speaking all the right words and telling them exactly what they need to hear? Wouldn’t that be exciting? Satisfying?
Her eyes flickered for an instant, and he could see the impulse take hold.
But he also hadn’t missed the way Wade had been casting glances all night at Ivory, and he was hoping to stir up a little discontent in Eleisha’s trio, anything that might cause her to turn to him for help or advice.
Casually, he turned to Wade, summoned an impulse, and sent it.
You’d do anything
for Ivory. Anything she asks.
Wade blinked, and Christian wanted to smile. He wasn’t quite certain how he could use this yet, but he had a few ideas, and at least the impulse was in place.
chapter ten
By the time Vera was getting Justin into his coat and walking him toward the front door, Wade decided he wanted out of the small “séance” room, and he headed into the living room to stand by the fireplace—trying to ignore the large painted carousel tiger.
Without anyone saying a word, he had a pretty good idea of what had just happened around that table. Several times, he’d been tempted to start reading minds himself, but he was afraid of interfering and throwing Christian and Ivory off their game.
He hadn’t known precisely what he expected, but he’d not expected the outcome to be so emotional. Christian and Ivory had made that young man cry.
To make matters worse, Wade wasn’t even sure they’d done anything wrong. They might have helped him.
But still, it just all seemed like such a lie.
He was no longer sure how he felt about bringing Christian back to the church and exposing Rose and Maxim to his company. And what about Ivory? He knew nothing about her besides the fact that she was beautiful and that she seemed to do whatever Christian wanted.
That wasn’t much to go on.
The fire crackled and popped, and he glanced back into the sitting room to see Christian standing by the table, still holding Eleisha’s hand and whispering what appeared to be comforting words into her ear. Philip was standing behind them staring daggers, and Wade almost wished he hadn’t paid any attention to the news story about the “spiritualist” back at the church. He almost wished he’d just let this one go.
But then Ivory broke away from the group at the table, and she began walking toward him.
He watched her coming all the way across the living room, and she stopped beside him.
“Quite a show,” he said.
“That was the third one in the third consecutive night,” she said softly. “I’m tired.”