Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1)

by Ralston-Brooks, Jane

  She looked at him with a question on her face. “Truth will free you,” he said.

  She nodded, touched her glass to his, and drank a sip. A hand touched the back of her neck and gave it a little squeeze. She turned, thinking it was Gary, but it was Michael. He left his hand on her neck and leaned over her toward Bruce. “I’ll take one of those.”

  His body was pressed against hers, and Erin caught her breath as she inhaled his subtle pine scent. It brought back memories of him carrying her, holding her close—memories from her dreams. His hand was warm on her neck, and she stood very still.

  Bruce mixed another martini and handed it to Michael, who took a swallow and stepped away from Erin, dropping his hand to his side. His eyes seemed to laugh as he looked at her, and she felt her face grow warm, afraid he could tell how much his touch affected her.

  “There you are.” Hannah strolled up to the group, Carlos at her side. She wore a long blue skirt with an embroidered peasant blouse, her blond hair in a braid down her back. Carlos, black hair slicked back, kept his arm around Hannah’s waist.

  Again, Erin felt a hand on the back of her neck. Everyone was silent as she turned around. “Gary, have you met everyone here?” she said. “This is Hannah and her husband, Carlos, and you met Bruce at the door, and this is Michael Woodward, the author.”

  Michael stood still and stared at Gary. His eyes blazed in his stern, frozen face. Gary stepped away from him as his eyes widened. Michael slowly exhaled and reached out his hand, and Gary straightened, lifting his head high. His eyes narrowed. “I think we’ve met.” He reached forward and shook Michael’s outstretched hand. Both men glared at each other.

  “Yes, we may have. Gary Arthur, is it?” Michael said.

  “Yes,” Gary said, and he slid his arm around Erin’s shoulders, squeezing her tightly against him. She took in a quick breath and held it, the sudden tension holding her still. She looked from one to the other.

  Michael raised his eyebrows. His eyes flicked back to Gary.

  Hannah grasped Michael’s elbow and pulled him away. “Carlos is dying to hear about your latest book. Why don’t we go outside and you can tell him about it?”

  His mouth formed a half-smile, and he glanced back at Erin as he let Hannah lead him away. Carlos shrugged his shoulders and followed.

  Bruce watched them leave. “Anybody want a drink?”

  “Yeah,” Gary said. “I could use another.” He banged his glass down on the bar and let go of Erin.

  She watched Michael as he walked outside. “I’m going to find Aleesha and see what I can do to help.”

  She made her way through the crowd. What had happened back there? Gary and Michael knew each other? She found Aleesha in the kitchen directing the caterer.

  Aleesha turned to Erin. “I’m so glad you’re here. Could you light the candles on the tables outside? Thanks, dear.”

  Aleesha dashed after the caterer. Erin hesitated. She wanted to tell her about Michael and Gary’s confrontation, but it would have to wait. She grabbed the matches and went onto the patio, taking a quick look around to see if Michael, Hannah, and Carlos were nearby. She didn’t see them, so she went to each table and lit its candle, then came back inside and found Aleesha again, who was heading outside with the caterer.

  “I’d like you to place the salad plates out now, and I’ll gather the guests to the tables,” Aleesha told the caterer. She turned toward Erin. “Thank you, darling. We’re going to seat everyone now—could you find Gary? You two are sitting at the table beside the rose trellis.”

  The crowd started to take their seats for dinner, and Erin joined Gary at the table with Hannah, Carlos and several other friends from the area. Michael sat at the table with Aleesha and Bruce, and a number of others. Hannah caught Erin’s gaze and pointed to Michael. Erin saw that he was watching her. His face was serious, frowning, but he held up a tiny blue flower for her to see—a forget-me-not. Gary kissed her behind her ear, and Michael turned away.

  After the dinner dishes were cleared, coffee was poured, and Bruce stood up and tapped on his wine glass with a spoon.

  “Friends!” he called out. “Friends, we are honored to have all of you join us tonight. We hope you’re having a good time.”

  The crowd clapped, and some shouted, “Yeah!”

  “Wasn’t that a fabulous feast? Thank you, Aleesha.” He nodded to her.

  More applause and some whistles.

  “Aleesha and I are especially happy you are all here tonight, because we have some news we are excited to share.”

  He paused, and the guests were silent as they focused their attention on him.

  “I fell in love with Aleesha the moment I first saw her, and I knew then that I couldn’t live without her. After begging and pleading, she has finally consented to becoming my wife. We’ve set the date for October third. We’ll be inviting all of you to the wedding, and to the huge party afterwards.”

  Everyone clapped and shouted, “Congratulations!”

  Aleesha stood up and kissed Bruce. “Don’t you believe him when he says he begged and pleaded—I wanted him just as badly as he ever wanted me.” She kissed him again.

  People laughed and clapped.

  Michael stood and raised his wineglass. “A toast—to Bruce and Aleesha!”

  Everyone stood, held their wineglasses in the air, and called out, “Bruce and Aleesha.” They drained their glasses.

  Dessert was served, and Erin nibbled her poached pear with chocolate for a few minutes, then excused herself for the bathroom. She headed to Aleesha’s bedroom, slipped inside the door, and closed it behind her.

  The bathroom door opened and Michael stood there, looking as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hi.” He stood in the doorway to the bathroom, blocking her way. “Delicious dinner.”

  “Aleesha always serves the best food.”

  Michael nodded. “I didn’t know you were involved with Arthur.”

  “I ran into him at a gallery with Aleesha right before you moved here.”

  He frowned. “And when you dream, how often do you go to him?”

  Erin covered her mouth with her hand. “I’ve only seen him there a couple times, I think.” She remembered Bagley with the knife at her throat, and Gary’s amused attitude. She moved her hand to her throat.

  Michael stepped closer to her. “And have you thought about what I told you?”

  “Yes, I’ve thought about it. I still don’t know what to believe.”

  “I see.” He sighed. “Erin, be careful. Gary Arthur has problems.”

  “How well do you know him?”

  Michael shook his head. “I don’t know him well. Only through his dreams.”

  “Through his dreams? Then how can you know he has problems?”

  Michael’s brow creased and he put his hand on her arm, sending a shiver through her body. “He’ll bring you grief.”

  “How can you say that? He’s been so good to my kids, and to me. He’s a good man. And he was one of William’s friends.”

  His eyes squinted in thought. “He knew your husband? I wonder how much he’s let you know. Beware of him.”

  “Beware of him? He loves me, and I know he’d never hurt me.” She paused. “He wants to marry me.”

  He pulled his hand away and stepped back. “All right then.” The muscles in his jaw clenched as he stood still with his eyes on her, then he walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  Erin’s stomach ached and tears came to her eyes. When she returned to the table, the party was breaking up, and people were saying their goodbyes to Aleesha and Bruce. Michael was standing in a corner of the garden speaking to another man. Gary seemed anxious to leave, so they said thank you to Aleesha and headed out to the car. The evening had already grown dark. Gary was silent as they walked, and after they got into the SUV and had driven a few blocks, he turned to Erin. “Why didn’t you tell me about him? Was he t
he man you went to lunch with?”

  Erin was startled. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  Gary took a deep breath. He almost spat out the name. “Michael Woodward.”

  “He’s a friend. There’s nothing more to it than that. And I had no idea you two had met before.”

  His voice grew louder. “Yeah, we’ve met. And your friends think there’s more to it than that. It’s obvious. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”

  “Gary, that’s not true. And you know how I feel about you.”

  “Do I? What are you up to? You were in my dream last night—what were you doing there?” He stopped the car in the middle of the road and looked at her with a fierce light in his eyes.

  “What? Your dream?” Erin couldn’t believe what he was saying. “What does your dream have to do with any of this?”

  His glaring eyes searched her face. He was gritting his teeth, breathing hard.

  Erin frowned with alarm. “Let’s pull over so we can talk.”

  He nodded, drove a short distance further and pulled into the parking lot of a small park. Trees sheltered the park from the road, only one dim streetlight shone from a distance. Erin turned to face him, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you could be thinking—I’m not up to anything.”

  He sat still, his breathing fast and shallow, staring into her eyes. He slowly shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face. After a big sigh his gaze washed over her body. Erin could see both anger and hunger in his eyes.

  He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard. She felt his heart pounding, his muscles tense. She kissed him back, kissed his face, and he nuzzled her neck and ears with his mouth. She was confused and anxious. What was he thinking she could be up to, something that would make him so angry?

  He let go of her and pulled himself away. His voice was forceful as he said, “You are mine. I don’t know what you know, but you are mine.”

  Chapter 45

  Erin brushed her hair as she looked down from her bedroom window, her thoughts skimming over the events of the evening. She watched the light from the moon as it shone like a pathway across the water, glimmering over each swell of the Sound. She felt a sharp sense of anxiety deep in her stomach.

  When they had reached home, Matt and Gwen were already in bed, and Edna went home next door, but Gary said he had a meeting early the next morning and had to get back. She was relieved that he had gone; she wanted time to think.

  What had set him off like that—so angry and intense? He remembered that she had been in his dream? Was it the same dream she had last night? What did he think she knew? Michael’s warnings came back to her mind. Could these dreams be real, just as Michael had said?

  She put down her brush and climbed into bed, leaving the blinds open so the silvery moonlight could shine into her room. As soon as she lay down, her body relaxed and her eyes closed. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was.

  *****

  The light was dim and cold as Erin looked around at the bleak city street. Beyond the weak light of the streetlamp she could see very little in the gloom. Not even a little moonlight lit the mists. Wispy fog floated up to the brick buildings, pressing against them as if trying to get in. The silence was as thick as the fog, and the dark windows and barren sidewalks suffocated any hope of life.

  She recognized this place. She’d been here before.

  Wings flapped above and she looked up to see a crow fly past. It soared in a loop above her, and then continued on its way. She followed it, running to keep up.

  She ran down several empty streets until the crow landed on the roof of a two-story brick building with no windows in the front. One dark door faced the street, and Erin turned the knob and pushed. The door slowly opened, and a blast of cold air hit her. Pulling her sword from its sheath, she stepped inside and entered a large foyer. A hallway led to the back of the building and a staircase. Holding her sword in front, Erin crept up the stairs in the dark.

  When she reached the top, she heard the crow caw from the roof of the building. The cold, pale glow from a streetlight shone through the grimy windows, casting shadows throughout the large room, which was filled with sheet-covered furniture. A tall, dark figure leaned beside one of the windows, arms crossed, watching her. It was Michael. He stood very still, nearly invisible in his black clothes, his sword at his side.

  She sheathed her sword and took a deep breath.

  “Hello, Michael,” she whispered.

  “Hello.”

  “This is a little different setting from the one you chose last time we dreamed together,” Erin said. She walked over to a sheet-covered chair and sat down.

  “I didn’t know if you even remembered that. It’s not surprising I would bring us somewhere else.”

  “Why are we here?” she asked.

  “Several reasons.” He looked out the window to the alley below. “You haven’t been honest with me.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re involved with Gary Arthur.”

  Erin frowned. “In my day life.”

  “It’s all one life, Erin,” he said. His face was in the shadows, his voice grim. “And you’ve seen him at least once in his dreams. Maybe more.”

  Her stomach lurched, and she thought back, remembering the dream she had just the other night, with Bagley holding the knife to her throat. She shuddered. Who had Gary and Bagley been waiting for? “Yes, I have. I told you that.”

  Michael pushed away from the wall, pulled up a chair close to her, and straddled it. “I warned you before about the danger of going to him. He has control in his dreams, not you. And since he knows you during the day, he will limit your abilities in his dreams. You may not have any strength.”

  “I know this,” Erin said. “I’ve handled it. Besides, when I last saw him, he seemed to know my strengths. I think he knows how to use the dreams.”

  The crow on the roof cawed twice, and Michael lifted his head to listen a moment.

  His voice grew angry. “Why do you say that? What did he do?”

  “You don’t need to get upset. Gary purposely changed my outfit, and he laughed about it.”

  “What? How did this happen?”

  “I think he was just joking around. I was drawn to the house where he and Bagley were hiding in the basement. They were waiting for someone and had mistaken me for that person. Fortunately, they realized their mistake before they slit my throat.” She rubbed her neck.

  Michael’s eyes flashed. “Damn it, Erin. Do you think they were playing a game? Who do you think they were waiting for?”

  She shook her head.

  “They were waiting for me. It was my throat they were going to slit.”

  Erin’s mouth dropped open, and she stood up. “You’re crazy. Why would they want to harm you? They don’t even know you.”

  “They know me very well. I have been a viator for both for more than a year now.”

  “What? I didn’t know that. But it doesn’t make any sense—why would they want to hurt you?”

  “Sometimes a dreamer will bargain with mortifers against us. Mortifers can grant some benefits for a dreamer in the waking world—they can help people get what they want. And when people conspire with those demons, they open the doors of darkness into our world. It threatens everyone. The other night when Arthur and Bagley ambushed you, I felt called to that dream but didn’t go. You must have felt his call because of your relationship with him, and so you went instead.” Michael scowled and looked away.

  She shook her head. “You’re saying that Gary is in league with mortifers? He wanted to hurt you? I can’t believe that—I know Gary—he wouldn’t do anything like that.”

  “You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Erin started to walk away. “He’s a good man. What you say is impossible. What do you have against him?”

  Michael jumped up and pulled her around to face him. “Don’t be a fool. I’ve been
dealing with his nightmares for more than a year. I know what’s in his soul.”

  Erin pushed him away. This couldn’t be true. Her mind flashed back, remembering Gary holding Gwen, his help when Matt was hurt, his tender kisses, his thoughtful gifts. “You only see one side of him. You haven’t seen how he helped my kids when they were hurt, how concerned he was when his friend was shot. You haven’t seen how good he is and how much he cares for us. I know him, and he loves me.”

  Michael winced. “You’re only seeing what you want to see. What he wants to show you. You know why he was so upset when Bagley was shot? He knew he’d be next. His business is corrupt and he’s in trouble.”

  Outside the crow cawed again.

  “You don’t know this. You don’t even know him in real life. How can you say these things? I don’t believe you.”

  “Shit, Erin—are you so infatuated with that fucking liar that you’ve lost your reason? Don’t be such a fool.”

  She struck him across the face. Michael’s cheek turned red, and he stood still for a moment, eyes wide staring into hers. He turned around and strode toward the window. At that moment Erin caught a whiff of a sweet, rotting smell, and she pulled her sword from its sheath.

  Tall and cold, five mortifers burst into the room, and their harsh laughter crashed like waves in front of them. Erin whirled around and thrust her sword at the first shadow. It wavered, and another brought its sword down, meeting her blade. Cold air hit her in the face and filled the room. She staggered back.

  Michael rushed at them with his sword ready and pushed them back. Erin held her breath and swung her blade hard, slicing a shadow’s neck. Its high-pitched wail echoed through the room and it slumped to the floor, dissipated, and was gone. With her sword in both hands, she lunged and struck one that was attacking Michael. It twisted around and thrust its sword into her face just as she ducked out of its way. She slashed her blade straight up through its body, and it shot apart and disappeared while its shriek filled the room.

  Michael’s sword flashed through the air, and another shadow was gone. He pulled out his knife and fought with both hands. A mortifer’s blade darted through his defense and sliced him—blood oozed from his arm and soaked his ripped jacket. The shadow laughed and attacked again with its blade overhead. Erin threw herself at his attacker, and it turned and brought its sword up against hers, wrenching it out of her grasp, sending it flying beyond her reach. She kicked it in the gut, and it staggered backwards, while Michael thrust his sword through its back. It lingered in the air a moment, then screamed and was gone. The last mortifer rushed at Erin, swinging its sword—she jumped back, but its blade grazed her torso and sliced through her clothes and skin. Fiery pain burned through her, and the room spun. It thrust again and she staggered away, struggling to keep standing. Michael leapt onto its back, and it threw him over its head and he crashed to the floor. It turned toward Erin and she ducked, then danced out of its reach. Michael was up in an instant. The shadow swung its blade at Erin again, then turned and slashed at Michael who stopped its thrust and pressed it back with his sword. It broke free and lunged, knocking Michael’s sword into the air. He dove to the floor so the next blow went wide. The mortifer turned to attack Erin as Michael scrambled after his sword. He rose from the floor, jumping on its back, and pulled his blade across its throat. It fell forward on top of Erin, its cold blackness flowing around her. The rotting smell was overwhelming, numbing her and filling her with nausea before it blew away, as the shadow’s wail of despair faded to an echo.