Never Fear - The Tarot: Do You Really Want To Know?

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Never Fear - The Tarot: Do You Really Want To Know? Page 18

by Heather Graham


  The shadow spiraled closer, molding into a womanly form, until it floated inches above him over the bed. Long black hair cascaded around her thin, veiled face, features hidden by a dainty piece of lace, which hung from a thin, beaded band around her head. Pure ice coated his flesh, as a sheer hand stroked his bare chest. Bangles around her wrist jingled with her touch. A whispered word filtered through his muddled thoughts.

  Come.

  His brain burned from the worst case of brain-freeze ever. Against his will, he was compelled to rise. When it turned and floated from the room, his legs acted of their own accord and carried him after it. An invisible icy claw wrapped around his soul and dragged him forward. Conscious thought attempted to shut down. Nothing existed but this being—this woman. Entranced by the ethereal beauty, he trailed behind it, snatched open the front door, and followed without haste. An image struggled to surface, slapping a smidgeon of his brain, begging him to stop. Someone needed him. Something familiar warred within him, demanding he stop. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. The need to catch her overwhelmed his common sense, making him run to keep up.

  Dampness lingered in the air from the recent rain. The sound of his name called from somewhere behind him. He wanted to stop, to answer the call, but he couldn’t turn, couldn’t look to see anything but the beauty before him, who guided his every move. This heavenly beauty needed something from him. But what? Though he tried, the ability to focus had been short-circuited. This creature controlled his will and his body.

  Through the yard, down the driveway, and across the road, he bypassed the dock and stood at the water’s edge. Wetness soothed his aching feet. He trudged farther into the icy coldness, reaching for her. She wanted something from him. A kiss perhaps?

  Come closer.

  Elijah stretched upward. Part of him wanted only to learn what she needed, while the rest of him desperately warred to be set free of this icy cold death-grip she held around his being.

  Closer. I need you to…

  Wetness soaked him to his hips. He didn’t care. This woman needed him, but he wasn’t sure for what. Just as the veil started to lift, something grabbed him, jerked him backward. His feet slipped and he sank, arms flailing about, reaching for something, anything to stop his descent. Inhaling a breathtaking cold, Elijah gasped, sucking in even colder, life-stealing liquid. Unseen arms jerked him upward, breaking free of the ice-cold water. Scrabbling to gain his footing, he slipped in the muck. Someone grabbed his arms.

  “Elijah! Please wake up!”

  Her voice startled him. Elijah sputtered and coughed, fighting for a clean breath of air. Hands held onto him, shaking him until his muddled thoughts cleared and he pried his eyes opened. Shivering, his voice quivered, “Where am I?”

  “Thank God, you’re awake.” Anora hugged him. “A few seconds more and you would’ve drowned.”

  “What?” He glanced around. The lake! They stood in the water. “How the hell did I get here?”

  “Sleepwalked, I guess. Let’s get you inside. Get you warm.”

  He held onto Anora as they trudged from the icy coldness. A shadow hovered near. He spun to see it. For a split second, a woman’s shape floated above the lake, beckoning him. When Anora turned, it vanished. “Did you see her?”

  “See who?”

  “The woman who led me here.”

  Anora’s brows pursed. “What woman? I didn’t see a woman.”

  Chapter Four

  She’d wanted to call an ambulance or take him to a hospital, but he’d refused, claiming he wasn’t injured, just wet. She’d even suggested they pack and move to one of the motels over near the highway, but he’d said no.

  Anora handed Elijah a hot cup of tea as she sat beside him on the couch in front of the fireplace. The minute she’d gotten him inside, she’d wrapped a blanket around him, had him remove his wet boxers and built a fire to warm him, then changed into dry clothes herself. Knowing he was naked beneath the blanket sparked her desire, but having seen him waist deep in the lake spiked her concern.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t lose your glasses going for a midnight swim like that,” Anora said in a teasing tone, trying to lighten the mood.

  Elijah recoiled deeper into the couch corner and shrugged. “Keep a spare pair in my bag. And I wasn’t going for a swim. Not of my own accord.”

  Anora arched an eyebrow, kept her eyes on him, and saw confusion muddle his gaze. Teasing probably wasn’t the best idea right now. What she’d just witnessed was difficult to describe. He’d been the victim of something odd happening to him, and she knew he suffered a traumatic blow emotionally. “How long have you been prone to sleepwalking?”

  “I don’t sleepwalk.”

  “Care to explain what happened then?”

  His set the cup on the end table and positioned himself facing her. His features darkened and his eyes held a look of lost befuddlement. “I can’t explain exactly what happened.” He paused, shaking his head. “Even if I told you what I think I saw, you wouldn’t believe me. I’m not even sure if I believe me, and I saw it.”

  She slid closer to him, laying her hand on his on the back of the couch. “Saw what? What do you believe you saw? You can trust me, Elijah. I won’t laugh. I will believe you.”

  He breathed deeply and stared directly at her. Anora read his angst, the indecision that tore at him, before he finally blurted, “Something came into my room—a bright light. It spun, shooting sparks all over the place. I thought it was dangerous and wanted to stop it before it hurt you, but somehow it bound me to the bed. It compelled me to focus on nothing but it as it shifted into this woman. This vision had long flowing hair, and dressed like a gypsy, with bangles dangling on each arm, which jingled when it moved. It put me in some sort of trance and led me to the lake. I tried to stop, but I couldn’t.” He shoved forward, leaning his elbows on his knees, sinking his face into his hands. “I wanted nothing more than to follow her. It kept whispering ‘come’ and I did. I’m not sure what it wanted. If it wanted me to help it, or kiss it, or whatever.” He groaned in frustration.

  Anora moved beside him, rubbing her hand along his shoulders, hoping to soothe his angst. He was visibly shaken. All she wanted to do was hold him, ease his pain. She’d been scared shitless seeing him standing in the lake. Now, she had no clue what to say. This whole supernatural stuff was new to her. Could a ghost lead people to their death in a lake? Was it even possible? She pulled him closer and figured the best they could do was talk it out.

  “Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?”

  “No,” he replied, shaking his head as he pulled from her touch and sat back. “Just embarrassed that I let something like this happen. I’ve never considered myself a weak minded person, and now this, this—” He thrashed a hand through his hair. “Ugh, I don’t even know what this is.” His eyes widened. “The thing threw my bag across the room, into the armoire and slammed the doors. Didn’t you hear the noise?”

  Anora shook her head, “No. I didn’t hear anything until the front door opened.”

  Elijah stood, marched to his bedroom door, and switched on the light. His shoulders slumped, and he looked back at her. “My bag is still on the foot of the bed where I left it.” He returned to the couch and flopped down beside her. He laid his glasses on the end table, rubbing his eyes. He shook his head. “This isn’t right. I know what I saw.”

  She huffed, not sure what to do or say. For a moment, she sat silent. “I don’t think this makes you a weak person, Elijah. There’s something going on here and we’ve just got to figure out what it is.”

  “Not sure what you mean by that.”

  “Well, think about it. Apparently, there have been disappearances over the years. Let’s research this as best as we can.” She walked to the desk, retrieved her laptop and logged on, then looked up the town, its founders and the local legend.

  Elijah slid close to her, reading over her shoulder as they discovered a few interesting bits of information. She noted he didn’t hav
e his glasses on. “Don’t you need your glasses to read?”

  “Not when I’m this close. I see okay without them. It’s a weak prescription.” He leaned back. “That’s a lot of men who’ve simply disappeared from this cabin over the past seventy-seven years.”

  She sat shoulder-to-shoulder with him while they studied the computer screen. “Odd, they were all men. No women. You said the ghost wore a veil. Did you get a look at her face underneath?”

  “No.”

  “I wonder if she’d lifted the veil, you’d be dead, like what happened in that old horror movie I watched years ago.” Anora slipped her tone into a creepy voice, trying to make him smile. “The creature was so hideous when it lifted its veil, the mere sight of it shocked people into instant death.” When she wagged her eyebrows and giggled, she achieved lightening the mood. Elijah snorted and smiled with a shake of his head.

  “What would’ve happened if I’d kissed her?”

  Anora didn’t skip a beat. “You’d most definitely be dead.”

  “Dead, huh?” His smile slipped away suddenly. “You think that’s how the others disappeared, a ghost led them to drown in the lake?”

  “Not sure,” Anora considered as she leaned back, pointing to the screen. “Don’t you think there would’ve been some bodies found?”

  “Not if she’s somehow managed to secure them to the bottom.”

  “I bet, they were lured into the lake, woke up in the water, got scared and ran off, never to return to this area again.” Anora tried to play devil’s advocate, ease his concerns, but her mind filled with phenomenal plot twists as she spoke, and her eyes widened. “But then again, what if the stories have a hint of truth? What if the ghost of Antanasia has been leading lonely men to their deaths all these years as revenge for Alexandru’s death?”

  It made her smile when Elijah picked up on her vibe instead of thinking she was making fun of him. “I think your author brain has kicked in and is running wild with the possibilities for a new paranormal series.”

  “Me thinks you may be right.” She grinned and was happy to see him relaxing a little bit. She knew this had been a hell of a scare for him—and her.

  “I told you what I saw.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest, and she couldn’t help but let her gaze dance across that tautly toned flesh for a moment. The blanket pooled around his waist. Anora’s eyes darted down, then snapped back to his face. His eyebrow arched, amusement glistened in his gaze and she knew he’d caught her looking at his lap. He challenged, “Tell me your version of what you saw me doing. I’d love to hear it. What made you come outside after me?”

  “I heard the door. When I came downstairs, it was wide open and I saw you going down the front stairs. I followed you. Several times, I called your name, but you acted like you didn’t hear me. I thought something was wrong with the way you were moving, like an invisible rope was pulling you along. Your head was tilted upward, as if you watched something intently. I couldn’t see it. I tried to reach you, but as I ran, you ran faster, headed straight for the lake.” She leaned, touching his cheek. “I believe you. I may not have seen her, but I felt a presence in the air, and it wasn’t a friendly one.” She shivered. “I thought I saw a dark shadow flowing around you, and it scared me. It had no particular shape, just energy, strong, seemingly violent in nature. It’s the feeling I got, real or not.”

  Elijah took the laptop, set it on the end table and pulled her into a hug. She snuggled against him, tucking her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, laying her palm on his bare chest. “It’s the vibe I got as well. She’s one angry woman. Thankfully, I’ve got you watching my back.”

  “I’d rather be watching your front,” she mumbled, softly. His hand cupped her chin and lifted her face to meet his gaze.

  “What was that?”

  She hadn’t meant for him to hear. Heat filled her cheeks and she knew she blushed. Anora tried to sit back but he tightened his arm around her. Elijah kissed her. The intensity grew, tasting each other, pulling closer together, arms wrapped around tighter, holding on, not wanting the kiss to end.

  The couch vibrated and bounced violently, forcing them apart, as if being jostled about by an earthquake. Losing her balance, Anora fell against him, clawing at his shoulders for support. Elijah grabbed her arms. Anora shoved upright and rolled from the couch. The movement stopped instantly.

  Something popped loudly in the distance. The lights flickered, then shut off. “Great. Storm must’ve blown a transformer,” Elijah stated the obvious about the lights.

  Breathing heavily, she gained her balance. “That was some kiss.”

  “Earth-shaking to say the least,” he added weakly as he stood, grabbing the blanket before it slid completely off his hips. “This area isn’t known for earthquakes, so what the hell was that?”

  Anora shook her head. “I’ve got no idea.”

  The glow of the burning logs gave the room minimal light. Elijah fashioned the blanket into a toga of sorts, tying it in place, making him look like a drop-dead, gorgeous, Roman warrior, or a frat boy. She leaned more toward the hot Roman. Frat boys never were her thing, even in college.

  “Nothing’s knocked off the shelves, so maybe it wasn’t an earthquake.” Elijah dropped to the floor and lifted the end of the couch, looking under it. “I don’t see anything that could’ve caused it to move like that.” Releasing the couch with a thud, he stood, facing Anora. “As much as I’d like to say, my kiss moved the earth for you, babe, I’ve a freaky feeling that bitch is back.”

  Something moved in the far corner. Anora couldn’t take her eyes off it as the shadowy image thickened, took shape, becoming brighter and shiny. She nodded toward it. “You’re right.”

  He’s mine. I need him, came the whispering soound of a frail feminine voice. The shimmering form shifted into a woman, with long black hair, flowing wildly around her in the air, even though there wasn’t a breeze. Her clothing was archaic and faded. The blouse held a hint of tan in color, and the full-length skirt appeared to be a faint shade of purple. Bangles hung around both wrists, jingling with each movement. A veil concealed her face.

  Anora moved in front of Elijah. Fear trailed up her spine, but she managed to stand steady with him near. They had to protect each other. “He’s not yours. He’s mine.”

  Elijah didn’t cower behind her. He gently squeezed her waist, as if letting her know she was right, and then stepped to her side, taking her hand in his.

  “I’m not yours. What the hell do you want?” Elijah’s voice deepened and his grip tightened on her hand as they formed a united front against this entity.

  A high-pitched screech filled the air as the shadowy figure took flight straight at them. Anora leaned against Elijah, yet stood her ground, even though fear coursed through her veins and her knees wobbled. “You’ve led your last man into that lake. Elijah is mine.”

  Frigid cold coated her from head to toe as the ghost halted within millimeters of her. Elijah released her hand and snaked his arm around her waist, tugging her closer to him. Warmth from his body was the only heat she felt at that moment. She stared directly where she thought the woman’s eyes should be, but couldn’t see them through the veil. The smell of black raspberry jam swirled in the air between them. Anora knew whose spirit she faced. Though her mouth had dried, she managed to speak, keeping her tone even keeled, while her insides quaked.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Antanasia. I’m sure Alexandru was a good man, who loved you deeply.”

  Anora’s hand lifted as if the ghost inspected it, singling out her ring finger from the others. Bare but signs of once a ring upon it. The veiled head nodded toward Elijah. He is not your husband. You cheat.

  Anora shook her head. “No.”

  He’s mine. Antanasia’s hands lifted to her veil. Anora couldn’t let this happen. She wasn’t losing Elijah to this creature.

  “Elijah, don’t look at her. What if that’s how she’s able to control men, through her stare? Pl
ease don’t look at her!”

  He cupped her cheek, turning her face to his. “If you haven’t guessed, you’re the only woman I want to look at. Together, we’ll think of some way to beat her.”

  Her heart stuttered at his words. This bitch of a ghost wasn’t winning. “Don’t look at her.” He nodded and closed his eyes. Anora stared directly at her as the veil lifted, unveiling one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. Digging deep, Anora leaned in. “He’s mine.”

  The stench of burnt black raspberry jam singed her nostrils. The face contorted into a gruesome vision of flesh melting, dripping away, leaving a distorted skull with sharp teeth, and the red glow in the sockets where eyes had been moments before. Her stomach churned, bile rose in the back of her throat. This wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Hell. She had no idea what she’d expected. Boney, skeleton hands reached for her neck. Anora screamed.

  *

  Elijah reacted on impulse, lifted her and spun Anora around, placing his back to the creature. The smell had him gagging, tears leaked from the corners of his closed eyes and his heart pounded, but he wasn’t loosing his hold on Anora no matter what happened. He screamed, “She’s mine. I’ve waited seven years for this, and I’ll be damned if some bitchy spirit is going to ruin it.”

  Keeping one hand gripped firmly on Anora, he swung to face the ghost. Cracking his lids open just enough to get his bearings on its location, he foolishly thought he could tackle it. He let go of Anora, and rushed it. Instead of hurting it, he ran through it and smacked face first into the wall behind it. Dazed, he sank to his knees, rubbing his forehead. Slowly he stood. The worst case of the dry heaves hit him hard and fast, wracking his body until he was weak and sweaty. Then the next wave hit. Invisible knives tried to cut their way out from the inside. He froze, grasped the wall with both hands and tried to focus as the worst sensation he’d ever experienced shot through every cell of his body from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. He couldn’t move. A bony cold hand slithered across his shoulder, untying the blanket. It fell to the floor.

 

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