The Mortal Falls

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The Mortal Falls Page 1

by Anna Durand




  Other Books by Anna Durand

  from Jacobsville Books

  Dangerous in a Kilt (Hot Scots, Book One)

  Willpower (Psychic Crossroads, Book One)

  Intuition (Psychic Crossroads, Book Two)

  Reborn to Die (Reborn, Part One)

  Reborn to Burn (Reborn, Part Two)

  Reborn to Avenge (Reborn, Part Three)

  Reborn to Conquer (Reborn, Part Four)

  Passion Never Dies: The Complete Reborn Series

  The Falls: A Fantasy Romance Story

  from The Wild Rose Press

  Tempted by a Kiss

  Contents

  Title Page

  Other Books by Anna

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Visit Anna's website

  Copyright Page

  1

  I trotted out the doorway of the rock shop and hurried around the corner of the barn-red metal building, past the rock garden with its whimsical statues frolicking among the boulders and flowers. My boots clomped as I hustled down the path through the woods, straight into the area marked by a big wooden sign. White-painted letters declared "HEALING VORTEX." Three boulders, shaped like benches, hunkered in a semicircle around the empty space that was the so-called vortex of mystical energy. I stopped in the middle of the space. No spiritual effects lightened my psyche, or whatever the thing was supposed to do.

  Maybe the vortex shunned me because I'd stopped believing in the supernatural. I liked the charming idea of an invisible energy field that healed what ailed you, but ridicule from school kids had squelched my fascination with the paranormal. I'd long since given up on caring what others thought of me, yet I couldn't quite get back to those beliefs.

  Glancing around, I realized no one was here. My customers must've left already, or meandered down the trail to the waterfall. If I returned to the shop without speaking to the customers, or at least verifying they'd left the premises, my boss would chew me out good. "Go act like a tour guide," Stan Lagorio had commanded, and I obeyed. A thirty-two-year-old woman should not have to schlep rocks and chase down tourists for minimum wage. Still, with my lackluster work history, I was grateful to have any job.

  Sultry air stuck to my skin as I trudged down the trail. I swiped a bead of sweat from my temple. Summer on the Keweenaw Peninsula — the way-way north of Michigan's Upper Peninsula — shouldn't scorch. I mopped more perspiration from my brow, plodding onward. Up ahead, out of sight, the waterfall drummed a dull rhythm. Something else moaned beneath the rumbling, something like…

  The throaty bellow of a human in agony.

  I slid to a stop. My heart raced. Adrenaline electrified my every nerve as I struggled to peer through the trees, but the foliage blocked my view. The urge to flee blasted through me, but someone needed to check this out. If I galloped back to the store for help, the injured party might bleed to death or stumble into the water and drown. I inched forward.

  A strangled cry reverberated through the woods.

  I slipped my right hand under my blouse to close my fingers around the grip of the Bond Arms derringer holstered on the inside of my waistband — legally, thanks to my concealed carry permit and the permission of my employer. The pistol's grip felt warm in my cold hand, heated by my body temperature. The two .357 rounds, one in each barrel, could stop a bad guy or at least slow him down. Never a victim again.

  A chill seeped into me, penetrating to the very depths of my being. The air crackled with invisible energy that skittered across my skin. The trees towered above me as before, the sun still blazed overhead, and the waterfall still thundered further down the trail. But the atmosphere had shifted, like a shadow snaking across my soul.

  Baloney. Energy didn't crackle. No shadows infected me. I'd let my imagination mushroom into paranoia.

  I pulled out my derringer and tiptoed two steps. Hesitated. Took another step. Listened.

  The falls rumbled. Jagged breaths hissed from my lips. The weight of another gaze squirmed down my spine, but I saw nothing except aspen and maple trees, and wildflowers sagging under the weight of morning dew. I would've accepted I was alone and had confused the cry of a fox or bear for a human scream, if not for the worm of doubt burrowing into me.

  A raven swooped down out of the high trees.

  The bird squawked as it passed within inches of me. I ducked down. When I raised up again, the raven was gone. Had it been aiming for me? Christ, I was losing my mind.

  I jogged down the trail and broke through the screen of trees into the clearing surrounding the falls. The water gushed over the twenty-foot-high red sandstone cliff into the small pool below, where it disgorged into a stream. No one stood on the wooden bridge that arched over the stream. I dragged in a breath, inhaling the clean scents of water and grass, but a sharper smell, almost metallic, lurked beneath the woodland aroma. The trail angled left, away from the falls and into the deeper woods. I sprinted around the curve, into the trees.

  And tripped over the man sprawled across the trail.

  My derringer popped out of my grasp as I stumbled sideways. Blood dripped from the man's forehead onto the ground. The fluid stained his red hair and congealed as a dark puddle in the dirt. One arm lay twisted under his body. His eyes stared at nothing. His mouth gaped open, caught in the final scream.

  I crouched beside the man, extending a trembling hand to check his pulse, but I sensed the truth before my fingertip dug into his flesh.

  The man was dead.

  2

  A force as powerful as a black hole hauled my attention to the body. The man. Christ, he was still a human being, not a slab of meat. I collapsed to my knees, unable to tear my gaze away from the lifeless body of the man whom — less than an hour ago — I'd caught shoplifting a pair of copper ore bookends, stuffing them into his backpack. Baffled at why a grown man would risk jail time for slabs of polished rock, I'd seized his arm and demanded he give up the items.

  He'd bared his teeth and hissed, "Go to hell, bitch."

  Now the shoplifter lay dead at my feet. The police would probably think I'd argued with the guy, chased him through the woods, and murdered him in cold blood. The sheriff already thought I was a psycho. He'd dream up some kind of motive, just like last time.

  I swallowed hard. The dead man's eyes. They stared into nothingness. Into eternity. I jiggled the body. He didn't rouse. I shook him hard and shouted, "Wake up!"

  The head lolled at an unnatural angle. I yanked my hands away. What had I expected? The man was stone dead.

  A shiver coiled down my spine. You have to call the cops. I jammed a hand in my jeans pocket, yanking out my cell phone, and punched the 9 key. The inescapable pull of the dead man tugged my gaze back to the body at my feet, to the blood pooled around his head and the vacancy in his eyes. My fingers twisted around a clump of grass, clenching it until the blades crumpled. Dew seeped over my finge
rs. Rein it in, Lindsey. I drew in a long breath and let it out slowly.

  My other hand gripped the phone so tight my fingers ached. The phone. I lifted my damp fingers to the keys.

  A crunch pierced the silence.

  I whipped my head around. The noise originated behind me, in the woods. Goose bumps erupted up and down my arms and I snatched up my gun, scrambling to my feet. The stench of blood suffocated me. Straight ahead, a three-foot-wide pine tree loomed.

  Rustling. Behind the tree.

  I bit my lip. "Who's there?"

  A figure leaped out. The naked man loped down the path away from me, toward the falls. His footfalls thwapped. He craned his head around, shot a grin at me, and sprinted faster.

  Maybe he killed my shoplifter. By the time the cops arrived, the stranger would've escaped into the wilderness. I bolted after him.

  It was like a crazed spirit had possessed me, propelling me into a reckless pursuit. Chase a naked man through the woods. Brilliant plan. I'd mutated into the dumb chick from a B horror movie, but I could not stop. Something in my soul drove me onward, legs pumping, blood rushing. My veins burned with adrenaline. My breaths huffed so hard and fast my head started to spin, but I drove my body on and on. I closed the distance between us just as the man touched down on the main trail. The stranger swerved right and vaulted over the wooden railing meant to deter people from jumping into the water. He sailed through the air, powerful, graceful, beautiful. His feet whomped down on the rock ledge at the cliff's base and he trotted toward the falls.

  I hollered through cupped hands. "Stop right there!"

  The man dived straight into the torrent.

  At the railing, I stopped so fast I almost toppled over headfirst. The waterfall pummeled the pool, churning up foam that dissipated as it oozed across the surface. Drops spattered my face and I blinked at the sting in my eyes. The rumbling of the falls, though far from deafening, drowned out my thoughts and obliterated my intentions. Why had I run here?

  The man. He'd fled the scene of a crime, or at least a possible crime. My shoplifter died from a severe head wound and the naked man I'd chased must've either been a witness or the killer. The sheriff would never believe I'd seen the naked man unless I delivered him on a silver platter with the recipe for roasting him pinned to his chest. I must track him down.

  Where? He'd vanished into the waterfall.

  "Hello again."

  I yelped, scrambled sideways, tripped over a rock. My arms flailed. I caught a peripheral glimpse of the stranger as I staggered backward. My heel dropped into a hole. My feet flipped out from under me and I sailed toward the ground.

  The man snagged me around the waist. He hoisted me up, hugging me to him. My derringer thumped onto the ground beside his feet, but his only reaction was a quick glance at it and a faint lift of one brow.

  Panting, I gaped at my savior. The murder suspect. Or witness. Or… something. His arms, roped with taut sinews, pressed me to his muscular body. Despite his jump through the falls, he wasn't wet. Impossible.

  I wriggled against his grip. "Let me go."

  He released me, stepping back. "You should exercise more care, darlin', or you'll crack that lovely head of yours."

  "What?"

  He nodded toward the ground. I followed his gaze down to a fist-size rock situated right where my head would've struck. Ouch. I gulped.

  The man watched me, his brows furrowed.

  Not a man. A murder suspect. I scuffled away from him, drawing out a distance of several yards. My gaze flicked to the gun, but I couldn't retrieve it without approaching him. "Why did you run away?"

  "So you would follow."

  His Irish brogue tickled my senses like a feather grazing my skin. I gave myself a mental shake, but the sensation lingered. "Excuse me?"

  My suspect sighed, as if I were the dumbest human on the planet. Maybe I was. Right at this moment, I wouldn't have bet money on my intelligence. Still, I had my pride.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why did you run?"

  The man hooked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the trail. "To draw you away from the body. It seemed to upset you."

  When I leaned to the left, I glimpsed the trail but not the dead man. The stranger blocked my view, which made me wonder if he'd positioned himself there on purpose. Him. The strange man who'd leaped into the falls only to pop up behind me a split second later. Impossible.

  He glided one step closer, into a shaft of sunshine that painted his face in hues of gold. The shadow from his elegant nose kissed the corner of his mouth. The sun's rays ignited his amber eyes, gracing them with a vividness beyond the normal. I roved my gaze up and down his golden body, soaking in the alien beauty of him. He wasn't actually naked. A tan loincloth clung to his flesh, but since the scrap of fabric covered his buttocks and groin and not much else, the impression of nudity wasn't entirely unfounded. The loincloth's color blended into his complexion. The way it hugged his body accentuated his male physique, the way it clung to his lean hips and the upper swathe of his powerful, tanned thighs.

  My gaze fell across a long scar on his chiseled torso, right over his heart. I wrestled against the bizarre urge to lunge toward him and run my hands over that glorious chest. Heat swept through me, the suddenness of it shortening my breaths.

  Get a grip. I was suffering from shock. Nothing else explained this. I should not be ogling a murder suspect twenty feet away from the victim's corpse. I wasn't like this, not ever, especially not since — I severed the memory before it swallowed me whole. Nothing supernatural was going on here. I had a half-naked murder suspect to question. Once I knew the answers, I'd subdue this guy — somehow — and call the cops. Only then might the sheriff believe me.

  Okay. Time to grill the suspect.

  Straightening, I lifted my chin. "Did you kill that man?"

  The stranger shook his head. The light glimmered on his shadow-dark hair. The breeze tousled his wavy locks around his face, brushing them across the tops of his ears. His lips, thick and luscious, cinched together. Strands of glossy hair fanned across his eyes, but he seemed not to notice. "You ask the wrong question."

  "Did you see what happened to the dead man?"

  The stranger shrugged. His broad shoulders undulated. "Not really, darlin'. But I wasn't on the lookout… for a man."

  "What are you talking about? Who are you? And what are you doing out here dressed like — " I flapped a hand toward him. The loincloth, and what it concealed, snagged my attention and warmth rushed through me anew. I clamped my upper lip between my teeth. Zeroing in on his face, I said, "Nobody dresses like that in the woods."

  "Is that so." A statement, not a question.

  "Yes. It's not proper." Cripes. I had more urgent matters to worry about, like the corpse rotting in the woods behind this crazy man. Since the moment I found the body, nothing made sense. It all seemed… paranormal.

  My gaze fell on my derringer, where it lay in the grass near the stranger, so close yet so far beyond my reach. I needed the hard metal in my hand, an anchor to reality.

  I cleared my throat. "What do you know about the dead body? Who are you? Where did you come from?"

  "Again with the questions."

  "I'd quit asking if you'd answer."

  His mouth slid into a wide grin and he strode toward me. One step closer. Two steps. Three. I stumbled backward as ice frosted over my skin, leeching into my flesh. His long legs spanned the distance faster than my feet could travel. My spine smacked into a tree. His body blockaded my view, a wall of muscle and bronzed flesh. Pinned there, I clutched at the trunk. Bits of bark crumbled under my nails, fluttering to the ground. I flattened against the tree. Breaths gusted out of me in sharp huffs. Brilliant, Lindsey, get yourself trapped between a tree and a weirdo.

  He slanted his head down to whisper in my ear. "Take it easy, darlin'. I won't ha
rm ye."

  Did I fear him? No. The realization shivered through me. I should fear him. I ought to hurl him away and flee back to the shop. But I didn't. Call it intuition or a sixth sense, but I understood he meant me no harm, even before he spoke the words.

  Wait. I didn't believe in intuition. I'd gone insane. Snapped, at last.

  He fingered a lock of my hair, studying it as if he'd never seen such a thing before. "Lovely. Like chestnuts powdered with gold dust." He switched his gaze to my eyes. "And your irises are pale as glacial ice, but with substance behind them. Fire. Spirit." He squinted, angling his head side to side. "Something else too. Can't quite place it. An energy bubbling up from a hidden well."

  "Cut the poetics, pal." Wow, I'd actually sounded forceful. I tried to glare at him, but chewing the inside of my cheek probably ruined the effect. My ears rang and I suddenly realized I'd forgotten to breathe. "What on earth are you?"

  He clapped his palms on the tree, straddling my shoulders. His body radiated heat. It poured over me like liquid sunshine. I sucked in a breath. The scent of him devoured my senses — an earthy tang, underlaid with exotic spice and a sharp sweetness that evoked thunderstorms. His breath whispered over my lips. "What are you?"

  "Uh… " I squirmed. "I'm a woman, a human being, like you."

  He chuckled. "We are nothing alike."

  His laughter twanged a nerve inside me, breaking the spell. I blinked three times and hauled in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, overcome by the need to clear my senses. I stared at his chest, desperate to banish all thoughts of the supernatural. I needed to get back to the interrogation. "A man is dead. You must've seen something. Don't you care about that, or anything?"

  "Another question."

  "Which you aren't answering. Again."

  "I regret I'm unable to become involved in mortal affairs."

  "Mortal affairs?" I shook my head, dumbfounded. "How can you be so heartless?"

  A strange expression flickered across his features and he bowed his head. "Because I am. You would do well to stay away from me and my kind."

  His kind? That implied he was — No. Oh-no-no, I would not go there. I cleared my throat. "You approached me."

 

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