With that, the aircraft lurched forward and I settled back into the seat as the plane accelerated to become airborne.
This is not natural, mon chaton.
I couldn’t help it so I laughed. Drake was trying so hard to stay calm.
“Drake enjoying himself?” Ryan asked in a hushed voice. To my complete surprise, there was no hint of annoyance in his tone.
“He was really excited until he heard the safety lecture. Then he totally freaked out,” I said. “He seemed mostly worried that the old woman sitting near the exit wouldn’t be able to work the emergency door.”
Ryan chuckled. “He probably has a good point there.”
Don’t tell him that! I did not…
Drake’s voice was abruptly cut off with a gulp as the front part of the plane became airborne, tilting us backwards. Seconds later, the back wheels lifted off the earth, and we were suspended in the air, the landscape zipping by as trees, roads, and cars became more remote beneath us.
We are flying, Drake gasped.
Yep. Like birds. But it’s warmer and we have snacks, I answered.
He was quiet until we made it up into the clouds and our seats shook when we hit a pocket of turbulence.
What’s happening? Is this normal? Why is this metal box shaking so much? And that horrid, thunderous sound! Is that what it’s supposed to sound like?
I knew he was less than a breath away from screaming into my head that we had to take out the old lady sitting by the emergency exit.
Yes, it’s normal. Going through the clouds causes turbulence.
How can it be so bumpy in the sky? What could we possibly be bumping into? he asked, his voice still strained.
I was about to tell him I had no idea when we suddenly burst through the clouds into smooth air and radiant sunshine. The enormous sun washed the puffs of clouds under us in the golden, morning light.
Drake was again silent. Thank God.
Pretty good, right? I asked.
It is… I…
I expected him to continue, but he didn’t. So we sat like that. I kept holding Ryan’s hand while Drake and I gazed at the endless clouds bathed in sunlight.
***
The hotel room was warm and cozy with clean, sleek furnishings and fluffy, white bedspread and sheets. It should have been comforting. But I was far from comforted.
I snuck into the large, cream-colored bathroom with the yards of fabric that would supposedly transform me into a convincing 1900s debutante. My previous forays into the past had me waking up fully clothed; once, I found myself in the white nightgown of a murdered woman! Another time, I was wearing a most unflattering shift from the 1920s.
At that time, my memories were enough to clothe me; but this spell was altered in order to transport material possessions. That meant that I’d be able to take the money and the map, but I’d have to change my outfit. Otherwise I’d arrive in the year 1910, wearing a pair of tight fitting, blue jeans and a deep V-neck, pink t-shirt. I dared not clash so starkly with the fashion of the times!
I prayed the outfit would quash any suspicion. And as we were destined to arrive during the depths of a New York winter, I also hoped that the thick layers of mothy wool would meet the challenge. I unfolded the long coat—a high collared, deep navy jacket. Then I turned to the tailored, cream blouse with a scooping neckline that I would wear with the long, navy blue skirt that reached the ground. The long slip of a skirt was so dusty that I sneezed when I separated it from the pile on the counter. A white corset with the stiff boning of a baleen whale fell out from my hefty pile of material.
As I looked at the corset, the weight of what was to come loomed into stark focus. I was supposed to go back in time to solve a century-old mystery, yet I didn’t even have the skill set to figure out the mystery of how to put this corset on. My hands were clammy and I was plagued by doubt.
I blew my hair out of my face before seeing my reflection in the mirror. My mouth was a disgruntled line and my cheeks were flushed with frustration. I envied Drake, all he had to do was show up as himself.
As if on cue, he chimed in. I detected his smile even before he spoke. Do you require my assistance, mon chaton?
Consciously avoiding my reflection in the mirror, I shimmied out of my own clothes and folded them up on the counter, wondering when I’d see them again. Putting on the corset without the aid of a mirror was also quite a struggle, but I’d rather endure Drake’s disgruntlement versus providing him with a peep show. His prowess in instructing me how to get into my outfit wasn’t lost on me and must have been gleaned from the removal of so many similar outfits in his own time.
After wrestling with an assortment of thin, white undergarments and hearing a few candid belly-laughs from the man inside my head, I finally managed a small victory. Well, at this time, anything counted.
“You okay in there, Pey?” Ryan’s voice lilted from outside the bathroom door.
I pinned a large, flowery hat over my updo (which was really more that I twisted my hair up into a semi-bun and then tried to secure it with about a hundred bobby pins. Somehow there was still hair sticking out left and right) and steeled myself with a quick exhale before opening the door. It would have to suffice.
“Wow,” said Ryan as he took in all of my navy coat and flower-hat glory.
The corset lay abandoned on the bathroom counter. I’d given up the battle. This twenty-first century feminist couldn’t bring herself to do it. More truthfully, it had less to do with my abhorrence to the socially accepted, ideal shape of women and more to do with my failure to fit it around my waist. His eyes settled on my breasts, which, I admit, were more than a little enticing as they spilled over the front fabric. (I feared anyone getting close enough to see the Victoria’s Secret tag on my bra!)
Ryan looked back and offered me his charming, dimpled smile. For a moment, I felt like we were getting ready for a fun Halloween party—except I was the only one dressed up. Grasping the seriousness of the occasion once more, his smile instantly faltered. Nerves racked my body and rendered me limp.
Lovie and Christopher were standing slightly crouched over the bed. “Let me see the sheet again,” Christopher droned with an exasperated wave of his hand.
Lovie handed him the piece of paper, then looked at me with widened eyes as if to ask, Can you believe him? Christopher studied the notes Lovie made after we left Guarda’s. I managed a smile at Lovie, but failed to succumb to her attempt to lighten the mood. She handed me the rolls of counterfeit bills we stashed in the suitcase and I pocketed them in the deep folds of my coat. I made a mental note to thank the progressive twentieth century fashion designers who realized the importance of pockets! If the objects we brought couldn’t be transported this time, we’d be up a creek without a paddle or worse.
Both Lovie and Christopher were trying to figure out what went wrong the first time we attempted this. When I traveled back to find the Axeman, I was supposed to bring several physical items on my journey with me, but none of them got through. This time, I had the added complication of bringing Drake through time with me.
“You ready?” Ryan asked in my ear.
“I guess,” I answered, looking into his honey-colored eyes. Last time, we had a moment to say goodbye before I had to take the plunge. This time, it didn’t happen, which left me feeling anxious.
“Do you have the map?”
“Yes,” I said with a slight eye roll.
“Your money?”
“Yes!” I giggled. He was acting like a nervous mother permitting her child to go on her first class field trip. I rattled the clutch I was holding in my right hand so he could see I hadn’t forgotten any of the essentials.
“I’ll be here,” Ryan said, echoing the same words he said to comfort me last time.
I just smiled and kissed him. He kissed me back, but the moment was almost ruined by Drake’s protests until I swiftly shut him out. It was just Ryan and me for a moment. The chatter between Christopher and Lovie faded away
when I felt the warm sensation of Ryan’s lips on mine.
When we pulled apart, it was quiet and we looked closely at each other. I opened my mouth and was about to tell him I loved him until I was rudely interrupted by Christopher loudly clearing his throat.
“I think we’re ready,” Lovie said. “But we can give you another moment if…”
Ryan and I smiled at each other, and I knew he felt the same way I did.
“I love you,” I said, and the words rolled easily off my tongue with the familiarity of saying them often.
“I love you too,” he answered, then kissed my nose.
I inwardly allowed Drake back into the world, realizing this could be the last time before we actually saw each other in person.
Ready, Drake? I asked him.
Oui, mon amour, he said.
I didn’t miss the underlying excitement in his voice.
I nodded to Lovie and she took a deep breath. “Okay then. Here we go.”
EIGHT
My butt landed on the ground with an audible “Oomph!” Seconds later, Drake thudded down next to me.
“Merde!”
I heard him moving around, and his clothing brushed across the hardwood floor as he righted himself. I leaned back on one hand to steady the dizzy feeling in my head and rubbed my eyes. I peered at the jumbled form of a man next to me. “Drake?”
My vision slowly clarified as I focused on him. A mop of rich, chocolate curls on his head, a black suit that spanned the broadness of his back, a swirling of dust that floated and remained suspended in the air around him. The glittering vibrancy of having his physical body in front of me was nothing less than mesmerizing.
Nothing like the dreamscapes. Don’t get me wrong, Drake was overwhelming enough. He didn’t need the ethereal dreamscape that made everything feel just a little bit counterfeit. Here, with him sitting next to me now, in the flesh as he so graphically put it, my heart went from being frozen with shock to pounding like a long-distance runner in an instant. My skin was hot, trapped beneath the thick layers of wool and cotton. I wasn’t really sure if the strange feeling that overcame me was from seeing him in the flesh. Or maybe it was from being thrown about in the cosmic universe after traveling through time and space.
“Oui, I am here, ma minette,” Drake groaned, breaking my trance.
He knew who I was! Thank God for that…
Lovie and Christopher had both postulated that Drake would remember me. In spite of the fact that he’d been living inside my head and was traveling through time with me, it was still just an optimistic guess. The last time we’d done this, when I’d dealt with the Axeman, I encountered Drake exactly as he was at that time, alive and unaffected by death. However, on that adventure, Drake didn’t know me. After hours of persuasion and troubleshooting, I managed to make him believe some of our shared memories. This time, however, we didn’t have time for that. Thankfully, we didn’t need it.
Drake shook his head, only ruffling the mop of his hair, then he focused on me. A slow smile lit up his face when he suddenly exclaimed, “It worked!”
As soon as our eyes met, a jolt of electricity pulsed through me, ending in my fingers and toes. I expected an awkward tension between us, but Drake looked away as if he hadn’t even noticed. In fact, he seemed more enchanted with his surroundings than he was with me. That left me with a vague sense of loss and then guilt over the fact that it had bothered me. Luckily he could no longer feel the things I felt because he no longer resided in my body so my strange little reaction to his apparent disinterest could stay ensconced in my own head.
He rubbed his hands across the floor, apparently awed that he was able to touch it. “It really worked,” he whispered while he took in the room around him, and a look of nostalgia appeared on his face.
My attention turned to our surroundings. Beyond Drake, I looked at the ornate wallpaper, and based on its style and age, it should have looked exceedingly worn and dated. But it didn’t. It had a lustrous, satiny sheen that meant it was brand new. Distracted by the surreal sight before me, my eyes traveled all around the room, and I began observing the whole scene. It was the same small hotel room we were in moments before, but now, it felt completely different. The bed was plain with crisp, folded, white linens and a large, wooden headboard. A pattern was lightly embellished on it and some hand-carved details brought out the beautiful wood grain. Heavy drapes hung straight down from the window and an antique dresser, (technically, it wasn’t an antique, however) with an oversized, ornate mirror placed directly across from the bed. A Bergere armchair that was thickly upholstered in tapestry in the style of Louis XIV was placed next to the dresser. It seemed like a museum, except everything was very much alive and obviously functional.
I could feel Drake looking at me, pulling my focus back to him. When our gazes met, his eyes quickly left mine, and traveled down my body, sending another jolt of heat down my spine.
“Ma minette,” he started as he shook his head in an appreciative way. “It is very good to see you from this angle rather than seeing your reflection in the mirror.”
“Thanks,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh. “It’s good to see you too.”
“The clothes survived the trip, mon chaton! Check your coat pockets.” He glanced up at me closely, his eyebrows rising when he saw the expression on my face. “What?” he asked, shrugging.
“You just completely checked me out,” I said even though I knew I was wasting my time in reprimanding him.
“Oui and?”
I shook my head. “And nothing.”
Trying to avoid an awkward moment, I struggled to get to my feet but the layers I wore weighed down my body. I nearly knocked off the large, flowered hat on my head in the process. Drake was at my side at once, lifting me up by my elbow.
His fingers were strong and solid, so I abandoned my effort to pull myself together and focused on the task at hand. “Son of a bitch,” I grumbled as I wrestled the hat back into place before rubbing my butt. I’d definitely hit the floor hard. “Next time I’m stuffing a pillow down my pants. Er, my skirt.”
“My dear, you have ample padding already,” Drake said, his deep voice full of suggestion.
I cuffed his arm and he didn’t even flinch, but smiled at me. I took in his face, the playfulness draining as soon as I realized I was with Drake. We were here, together on the same plane, in separate bodies. It didn’t seem real, and I fought the urge to touch him again. I wanted to see if it were truly him.
“Your pockets, ma minette! Check your pockets!” Drake said, completely oblivious to what I was thinking.
Of course he was! He wasn’t trapped inside my head anymore.
The tender moment fled in a flash. I heaved a sigh and shoved my hands into the side pockets of my thick coat, my fists immediately closing around the fat wads of cash. My eyes met Drake’s and happy relief flooded me.
“It’s here,” I said, pulling out the cash. I handed one of the wads to Drake. His hand closed over the money, and his dark eyes penetrated mine in a shared moment of collective excitement. We pulled it off! In the next instant, I realized what a success bringing the money there meant. Nothing stood in the way now. With money, we had all the necessary resources to buy food and accommodations.
Accommodations. My heart practically stopped beating in my chest as I stared at the vibrant man in front of me. Would we be sharing accommodations? That thought stunned me into complete stillness.
This time, Drake didn’t look away when he saw the expression in my eyes change from elation to something more along the lines of a deer caught in headlights.
“Mon amour?” he murmured, a dangerous smile on his lips. The smile wasn’t dangerous. But the way it made my insides flutter was very risky. The last time I’d been with Drake beyond the dreamscapes, I witnessed the final moments of his life. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” I answered too quickly, in a breathy voice. Inside, I was reliving the anguish of the indelibly etc
hed memory of his death. But now as I stared into his handsome face, those haunted thoughts suddenly left me. Now, here he was! Real blood flushed his cheeks, real breath rolled in and out of his broad chest, real desire emanated from his chocolate eyes.
“It is us, in the flesh,” he said in a deep and low voice. But it was the way he was looking at me that made my breath nearly stop. The room was so quiet, I could hear my heartbeat in my red-flushed ears. He was taking me in too. His smile simmered slightly as we gazed openly at each other. His eyes made me feel naked.
Finally, he lifted his hand to his mouth and coughed, raising his eyebrows in an expression of playful accusation.
I cleared my throat and smoothed down the front of my coat, patting it when I remembered the purse I tucked away there. I retrieved the small clutch, and checked inside it. Everything was intact: the map of Dorothy’s route on the day she disappeared (today!), my notes, more cash, and the pocket watch.
“Is everything in ship-shape order?” Drake asked, his voice low.
The way he lowered his voice made me more aware of how close he was; that and the intoxicating scent of his cologne that wafted around me. I discreetly took a step back, the sight of the map in my clutch snapping me back to what was really important: finding Dorothy. She needed us and this was it: our one chance to figure out where she was trapped.
“Yes, it is,” I answered with a small smile, now more in control of myself and less susceptible to being in Drake’s presence. I noticed his hair was still a tousled mess on his head so I sighed and stood on my tiptoes to smooth his locks.
Drake stilled at my touch as he stared intently at me. I paused when I felt the soft puff of his breath on my cheek. Hastening my effort, I cleared my throat and quickly raked my fingers through his hair to tame it, trying to ignore how thick it was. I only half succeeded. I fixed his hair but totally failed at trying not to notice how damn luxurious it was. I abruptly stepped away. Drake’s eyes never left my face the whole time, and his lips curled into a devilish smirk.
Brown Eyed Ghoul: A Ghostly Paranormal Romance Series (The Peyton Clark Series Book 3) Page 13