Look at me.
Elijah forced his lids to remain sealed shut. No way in hell was he looking at that thing. Icy fingers trailed all over his flesh. It turned his stomach knowing he couldn’t stop this creature from exploring his nakedness. Damn, why hadn’t he put on clothes? Because he wanted to snuggle with Anora, and wearing nothing but a blanket seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, with this ghost caressing him, not so much sexiness in that. He cringed when it cupped his balls.
*
Her eyes widened. Anger outmatched her fear.
“That’s it. I told you, bitch. He’s mine.”
Anora grabbed the closest weapon, the poker from the fireplace. With both hands, she swung it, not knowing what else to do. Antanasia’s shrill laughter was like a banshee’s, rattling the windows. Anora arched her shoulders in a desperate attempt to shield her ears as she kept swinging. Swoosh. Swoosh. The poker slashed through the ghostly being. In frustration, she threw it, hitting the wall directly behind the ethereal bitch.
Elijah’s flesh held a bluish tint. The bitch was freezing him with her touch. She had to do something. Anora wedged herself between them, even though it meant stepping into the ghostly figure. Icy shards coated every aspect of her being. Fear twisted her gut as she wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him tightly to her. She moved her whole body side to side in a slow rhythm, attempting to warm his flesh. The frigid temperature of the spirit’s touch had them both shivering. Her teeth chattered, everything hurt. Each intake of air was filled with cold moist crystals, but she held on to him. She knew it worked, because as he warmed, he regained function in his arms and gathered her closer, holding her tighter, confining the limited body heat between them. His lips met hers in a trembling kiss.
In a fit of rage, Antanasia turned into a spiraling mass of dark matter. The whole house shook. Pans and dishes rattled in the kitchen. Books fell from the desk. Something crashed upstairs. The air whirled around them with tremendous force, lifting them as they broke apart from their kiss. They clung to one another. Fear held them gripped tightly together.
A thick substance bubbled and spurted from the walls, stinking of burnt black raspberry jam, oozing from every crevice, dripping on them and singeing their flesh. Neither could see the ghost clearly in the whirlwind of violence that lifted them higher until they smacked against the ceiling. As quickly as it started, it ended. They dropped and landed in a heap of arms and legs tangled together, coated in globs of a thick gooey, sickening-sweet burnt smelling substance.
Elijah and Anora struggled to their feet to face the hissing figure crouched in the corner. They held onto each other, not letting go no matter what the creature did next. Both of them shook as they stepped backward away from the thing.
Elijah steeled his legs to hold them both up, since he felt Anora’s wobble as they moved. Were they going to die? Did this thing have the ability to kill? Then an idea hit him, and he figured, what the hell, throw it out there.
“You can’t have me. But if you need a man, take her ex-husband. He’s all yours. No contest there.”
Chapter Five
Deathly silence hung in the air. Unified, they faced the shadowy figure of Antanasia. A bone-chilling shrill cut the air, seconds before the dark image thrust forward. It slammed into Anora, tearing her from Elijah’s grip, sending her skidding in a heap across the floor. Antanasia twisted her distorted face and grinned at Elijah, keeping him momentarily pinned in place with an unseen force. His gut roiled with anger and hatred for this thing. His fists balled at his sides while he struggled to move, to get to Anora. Pure evil washed over him and he swore he tasted black raspberry jam. He was done with this bitch. He knew he wasn’t supposed to look at her, but there was no chance in hell he was going to let her control him. He didn’t dare blink, no matter how disgustingly horrible the ghost’s face became.
Antanasia formed into a column of black vapor and shot directly into Anora’s nose and mouth. Anora gasped, gagged and coughed, then shook violently. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her eyelids fluttered closed and her legs kicked rapidly. Elijah panicked. That bitch was inside Anora. That fucking bitch was inside his woman, killing her from the inside out. Damn. Damn. Damn. Seeing her body slither across the floor in severe pain tore at his soul, knowing she suffered ten times the agony he’d experienced earlier. He had to stop this before that bitch of a ghost ripped Anora apart.
With every ounce of grit he could muster, he fought the invisible bonds Antanasia placed upon him. Sweat beaded upon his brow as he dragged his legs and forced his body to move toward her withering body. “Hold on, Anora. Fight the bitch. Don’t let her win. Fight her!”
When he was close enough, he rocked forward, using gravity to lunge him toward Anora. He landed hard, knocking the wind from his lungs, causing him to gasp, but it broke the creature’s invisible lock on his body. Elijah scooted over to Anora, cradled her in his arms. Her face had gone pale. Her lips were bluish.
“Noooo! Anora! Fight. Please fight.” He hugged her tightly against him, rocking her like a child.
Kiss me, graced his ears. He knew the words were not Anora’s. Her beautiful face warped into the hideous creature of the dead. Was this some sort of gruesome test? Elijah didn’t falter. He grasped hold of the love he held in his heart and lowered his lips toward hers.
“Anora, I love you. I always have.”
The instant their lips touched, the blood within his veins ran ice cold,shaking him from head to toe. With arms wrapped around his Anora, determination held him in place, his lips firmly pressed to hers, willing what was left of his body heat to warm her. Her frosty skin frightened him beyond belief. He pressed his mouth harder to hers, delving his tongue inside, even though the sensation of freezing from the inside-out threatened to turn him into an iceberg. He’d give her every ounce of heat he had if it meant saving her life over his. He broke from the kiss, holding her, cradling her in his arms, wrapping his body around hers, doing everything he could to warm her, save her.
He murmured, “Don’t let the dead bitch win.”
She shook so violently, he could barely hold onto her, but he wasn’t letting go. Anora’s head lolled back, mouth opened and an ear-piercing scream exited as putrid, black fumes smelling of burnt, black raspberry jam funneled from her throat. Elijah held on, stroking her hair from her pale face. For what seemed like an eternity, they huddled together on the floor. He was afraid to look at her, to see if the love of his life lived or died. Elijah simply held her pressed against his chest; his chin rested on her head, his eyes closed, as he prayed.
*
Her hand shook as she touched his cheek. She twisted in his arms, drawing from his strength. Elijah loved her. If she’d heard him right, he’d been waiting for her since they’d met. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Because she’d been trapped, blinded by a sweet-talker and stuck in a loveless marriage.
Elijah held her tightly. Heat from his touch warmed her, knowing he cared made her fight the ghost that had invaded her body. She now knew what they needed to do to end this. She opened her eyes and stared at the man she’d come to realize she loved.
“You love me?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Are you okay?”
She cupped his cheek. “Other than feeling like my insides have been tossed around in a blender, I’m going to be fine. You?”
He leaned into her hand. “Yeah. Bruised a bit, but breathing.” He looked around. “You think she’s gone?”
“No,” Anora shook her head and answered sadly. “But I know what she wants, and I think it’s up to us to help her. It’s the only way this will end.”
“Doesn’t require killing anyone does it?”
“Nope. You still remember how to dive?”
He sat back eyeing her suspiciously. “Yeah, but…”
Anora placed her palm on his chest. “Trust me.”
He thumbed her eyelid, lifting it as if looking for something. “That bitch isn’t still in there is she?”
Anora slapped his hand away. “No, she’s not.”
“Good, cause I really want to kiss you and only you, this time.”
Elijah kissed Anora, soft and gentle, tasting every nuance of her mouth, relishing her flavor and the touch of her tongue against his. This woman had been worth the wait.
One week later
Anora and Elijah sat cuddled together under a blanket on the swing. Her head rested on his shoulder. “You think she’s finally at peace?”
“Since she hasn’t made any more nasty appearances and we did what she told you she wanted while she was inside you, I’d say, yes, she’s at peace.” Elijah toyed with her hair while they gently swayed, enjoying the early evening, watching the sun set on the lake.
“It had to be horrible trapped in spirit form for seventy-seven years, unable to be reunited with your soul-mate in the afterlife. And all this because of a curse placed on an amulet by your pissed-off mother and mother-in-law.” Anora twisted on the swing, facing Elijah more.
He liked the way she looked wearing nothing but his T-shirt. Elijah lifted his gaze to Anora’s beautiful green eyes. “What I don’t understand is why her brother made them matching gold amulets in the first place if the family didn’t approve of their union? Why such an extravagant gift just to curse it? Can we go over her story again? I’d like to get a better understanding of the why she was haunting this place. It might make for a new series for you.”
Anora nodded. “He wasn’t against them. He was the only family member for their love. He secretly forged the amulets, but somehow their mothers found out and cursed the amulets without his knowing it. According to what I learned from Antanasia, they didn’t approve of their union but couldn’t stop it, so they wanted to make things horrible for them, especially when they died. Neither would find peace without both amulets being buried together. It wasn’t until she was very old, when she received a letter from her brother telling her of the curse. By then, it was too late. She spent her afterlife searching for Alexandru knowing he wondered, lost just as she was because the amulets weren’t together. She lured men to the lake to use them to find the amulet, not to kill them. Most woke when they got wet and ran away scared. The others packed and left the instant she made an appearance. Over the years, the legend simply grew. We were the first who listened to her plea for help instead of running scared.”
“That was because of your author’s open-mindedness to all things being possible,” he said. “If this happened to just me, I’d long been gone.”
“Nah, I don’t believe that. You’re just as open-minded as me. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be my agent. Thanks to your diving skills and Antanasia narrowing the field down for it’s location, we found the amulet and it’s where it belongs buried beneath their combined headstone. So hopefully, they found one another and they’ve found peace. I think this calls for a glass of wine.” She crawled from under the blanket and stood. “I’ll be right back.”
When Anora returned to the porch carrying two glasses of red wine, Elijah was on his cell phone. She handed one to Elijah, then snuggled into place beside him under the blanket on the swing.
“Thanks, Uncle Hank. I appreciate the call. We’ll see you as soon as we return.” He pressed the disconnect button and laid his phone on the porch rail along with his wine glass.
His brows were pursed and his expression one of indescribable confusion.
“You okay? Did someone die?”
He took her glass and set it beside his, before gathering her hands in his, and turned catty-cornered in the swing, facing her.
“That was Uncle Hank.”
Anora’s heart skipped a beat. From the look on his face, something bad had happened. Elijah’s Uncle Hank was her consultant on all things police protocol. He’d been on the force for over twenty years. “Ohmygod, is he okay?”
“Yes.” Elijah nodded. “He called to tell me…” He paused, took a breath as if what he was about to say was the hardest thing ever. “Tony is dead.”
“What?” She couldn’t be sure she’d heard him right. “Which Tony?”
“Your ex. He was found dead in his apartment. Uncle Hank was assigned as the investigator for the case. Saturday night, a neighbor heard screams coming from his apartment and called the cops. According to him, the body was found sitting in a chair at the desk in his home office.”
“What?” she cleared her throat and tried again. It wasn’t as if she was upset over his death, just stunned. Forty-two wasn’t old. “Why’s he assigned to the case? He’s homicide. Do they suspect murder?”
“They found a handwritten note on his desk proclaiming you as his beneficiary. That’s why Uncle Hank was called. Your assistant, Maxine, told him you were on an extended vacation. He tried your cell phone, left a message, then called me. I told him we are here together. He asked if we could prove our whereabouts Saturday night around seven p.m. I said yes. We were at dinner at a restaurant in town. I gave him the link to my Instagram account. The selfie we posted proves our location, date and time. Considering we’re a good three-hour drive outside of the city, we’ve got a solid alibi.”
“They think he was murdered.” She spoke the words softly as the situation sank in. “And they think I had something to do with it. Him leaving me as his beneficiary makes it look even worse for me.”
“They don’t suspect you of murder. He was simply tying up loose ends.”
“Do they have any idea of what happened?”
“Not really. From the preliminary report, the coroner suspects a massive heart attack.” Elijah shook his head. “Uncle Hank said, from the expression on his face, it looked as if he died painfully. They found him with his eyes wide opene and his mouth ajar, as if he’d been screaming or yelling. That’s probably what the neighbor heard. He was probably screaming for help, in too much pain to move. His cell phone was in his bedroom on the charger, no landline. But that’s not the oddest thing. A tarot card was found in his jacket pocket.”
Anora sat back. A knot formed in her chest and her eyes widened. She knew Antanasia had traipsed around her memories. She’d commented on the vile husband of Anora’s past, that he treated women poorly. Anora swallowed hard. Anora hadn’t asked for anything from Antanasia. Anora just wanted to help end the other woman’s reason for being without her soul-mate in the afterlife. She expected no reward, especially not something like this. It was all she could do to push the words across her lips. “Which tarot card?”
“The Chariot.”
9
strength
ed deangelis
Upright: Strength, courage, patience, control, compassion
Reversed: Weakness, self-doubt, lack of self-discipline
“You’re a bum, Jimmy, a bum!” Tino shouted at the wheezing, middle-aged man who was throwing varying punch combos at a two-hundred-pound heavy bag.
“Shut… up… Tino!” Jimmy said through gritted teeth and labored breaths. His body ached and his arms burned, but he had to push himself; he had to be ready. Jab, jab, left hook, body, back step, right step, fake, right uppercut. Jimmy cycled through his opening combo list, his body weaving into a pattern that after years was deeply ingrained in his muscle memory. Despite those years, Jimmy could feel himself wearing down: his body ached and he had only been practicing for fifteen minutes, only five rounds, not even half the fight. If only he was ten years younger. But Jimmy knew he was past his prime. He had just celebrated his fortieth birthday, and his little girl Ginny’s eighth birthday. His hair was turning grey, and although he knew he was still strong, he was slowing, and some days his entire body would shake uncontrollably for short periods of time. He should have stayed retired; he should have listened to Audrey’s advice. He smiled despite his fatigue and allowed his mind to slip back into days past, while his body shifted to autopilot.
“Jimmy Flannigan Thacker, ye must be daft in the head if ye think this be a good idea! Ye just turned forty, and ye think to go strutting back into the ring like some
young cock trying to prove yeself! Eight years ye’ve been retired! Ye have a family to think about now!”
Jimmy wanted to smile as he watched his wife storm around the kitchen table, Audrey was pitching an awful fit. But he couldn’t blame her, nor could he grow angry. The way she stomped around, her slender five-foot frame, her tousled blonde hair flying every which way, she was beautiful, even if her face was currently redder than the Devil’s arse. And he knew she had a right to be the way she was right now. “I know, darling, I know. But that is why I do this, for my family. I squandered most of our money when I was young. Trying to prove things to people, trying to make us look good. When all we really needed was one another. This fight, this one fight could secure our comfort for years to come. I need to do this. Not to prove something myself, or to others. But to provide for you and Ginny.”
Audrey was not even close to being convinced, although his words had lessened the fire in her blood, if only slightly. “We been having enough to make do. Ye can teach boxing to the younger generations and while Ginny is in school I can pick up spare work till I find something more permanent.” Audrey sighed, concern now replacing the anger on her face and in her voice. “Ye can’t be going back into the ring, Jimmy. You’re hurt. I know ye don’t show it, but I see you shaking. Yer whole body shakes as if the chill o’ death is upon ye. And then there are the blackouts. I know you have them, those moments when ye looked confused and can’t remember what ye had just been doing or where ye ha—”
Jimmy slammed his hand down so hard on the table, an audible crack resounded in the tiny kitchen. “I won’t hear any more from you, Audrey! I am doing this for you and Ginny. Ain’t no shakes or my rattled brain gonna stop me from providing the good life for my wife and child.” Jimmy stood and, reaching down, he grabbed his small duffle bag that held his gear. “I’m going down to the gym to train with Tino. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Never Fear - The Tarot: Do You Really Want To Know? Page 19