The Cards of Life and Death (Modern Gothic Romance 2)

by Colleen Gleason

  Ethan looked down and noticed that he was cradling his hand to his chest, and that his fingers were bent awkwardly. He grinned. “You ought to see the other guy.”

  “All right, all right, save the sappy stuff for later.” Helen pushed her way into the crowd, implementing her cane with less violence than usual. “You’re bleedin’ all over creation, here, and I forgot to go to the powder room before we left the Grille, so let’s get out of these woods and get back to civilization.”

  Despite the fact that Ethan wanted more than anything to gather up Diana and take her away somewhere safe, he stopped right there, realizing what Helen had done for them this day. No one was more surprised than Helen when he pulled the old bat into his arms and bestowed the biggest, wettest kiss on her cheek that he could give. “You old crone, you saved the day with your plan, and that cane of yours!”

  For the first time in her life, Helen Galliday seemed to be at a loss for words: she actually stood there for a moment looking as if she were about to cry. Then, shaking off the surprise, she pulled away from him. “Off with you, now, you old boy! You got yourself a woman there—don’t you be comin’ ’round me and makin’ her all jealous!”

  He smiled and said, “But you and Cady will always be my favorites.”

  EPILOGUE

  Three days later

  Diana brought the Tarot cards with her to the ruins of Aunt Belinda’s house, walking over from Ethan’s cabin on a bright morning. She’d left him sleeping, for he’d inhaled too much smoke, and had had surgery to set his hand. He was recovering well, but she wanted to do this alone.

  She came through the woods along the trail Ethan often walked and into the clearing to see the half-blackened white clapboard still looming in its place. It was no longer smoldering, but smoke was still heavy on the air. The den windows were empty and black, and there were other places where shattered glass glittered sunlight off its shards, but other than that, the home appeared as it always had.

  She was taking her time. She was on-edge, eager, sensitized, ready for this … but she took her time walking across the sunny yard, holding the mahogany box.

  Oh, Aunt Bee! She sighed sadly, internally, as she stepped up onto the porch and opened the door. Perhaps now you can rest easy, and, perhaps, I, too can as well.

  Inside, the shell of the house allowed the lake’s breeze to whistle through and caress the corners of each room with a freedom open windows had never allowed. Diana felt like she was standing in the ruin of an old castle, on a high cliff overlooking the sea, ceiling open to the blue sky. Smoke still permeated the rooms, and a dusting of gray ash covered everything.

  If it hadn’t been for Aunt Bee, she would have been nothing more than a bit of gray ash herself. A little pleasant shiver filtered over her shoulders, just like it had the day she’d sensed her aunt’s presence in the kitchen. Thank you for everything, Aunt Bee.

  Diana would never forget that moment of terror as Jonathan used his gun to force her toward the bedroom. He’d already created a massive pile of papers in the den and pulled the curtains down, making the old fabric an easy trail for the flames to follow into other areas of the house. He didn’t use an obvious accelerant, for fear arson would be suspected.

  She hadn’t cared as he explained all of this to her—she was trying to find a way to get free. Losing hope, she’d tried to think of some way to distract him so she could dodge past him and run out of the house. The cats had disappeared after lurking about and protecting her for so long—perhaps it was self-preservation because they sensed the impending fire—and now it was just Diana and Jonathan.

  But as they came to the bedroom where Jonathan had killed Aunt Belinda, his steps became slower and he hesitated. When he tried to force her through the entrance into the room, a cold gust of wind blasted from inside, ruffling her hair. She smelled the old comfortable scent of her aunt, and closed her eyes, silently pleading for help.

  Jonathan’s face had turned stark with terror, and he seemed hypnotized by some vision in the room beyond. Diana couldn’t see anything except for a foggy mist in there, but she didn’t care. It was her chance to escape. She turned, shoving past Jonathan and tore down the hall, racing for the front door on wobbly legs.

  But no sooner had she reached it, fumbling with the knob to yank it open to freedom, than Jonathan slammed his full body into her. She hit her head against the wall, then her temple hit the knob as she fell to the floor. After that, he changed his plans and kept her with him under gunpoint. He even made her drop the lighted match onto the pile of papers in the den, then made her stand and watch at the edge of the clearing as the house went up in flames.

  It was only when the beam of headlights cut the darkness that Jonathan jammed the gun more harshly into her side and forced her into the deep woods where his car was hidden. She’d become a hostage instead of a sacrifice.

  But when Cady appeared in the night like a feral black streak, Diana had never been so glad to see the ferocious animal. Jonathan had clocked her on the side of the head with the gun as he swung wildly at the dog, knocking Diana to the ground where Ethan found her.

  She would never forget how her life had been saved by two cats, a black lab, and a ghost.

  Now, she sat on the floor in the middle of the ruined den. Most of the hardwood strips had been pulled up, and little of the rubble had been cleared away. Diana wore denim shorts and a t-shirt, with bare legs and sandals, but the ruined room called to her to sit there.

  As she settled on the floor, she smiled wryly, thinking that only two months ago she’d scoffed at the thought of psychics and Tarot cards. And now, here she was, opening her mind as the High Priestess had insisted she do.

  With a calm breath and trembling fingers, she removed the lid of the mahogany box and pulled away the black silk.

  ~*~

  That was how Ethan found her: sitting in the midst of a fire-blackened room, under the late August sun, Tarot cards clutched in her hands. Her thick hair tousled around her face like it did after he made love to her, sleek and curvy like the rest of her body.

  Jesus.

  The sight of her hit him like the figurative lightning bolt, freezing him there for a moment just so he could look at her upturned face, eyes lidded against the sun, long slim fingers holding the cards. He couldn’t breathe. The sight of such beauty and serenity made his throat hurt and his heart bang insistently against his ribcage, as though it was trying to tell him something.

  She hadn’t heard him, for she was engrossed in her thoughts, and he waited, unwilling to bring her back too abruptly from wherever she was. He could look at her forever.

  Just then, Diana opened her eyes and looked directly at him.

  He felt like he would drown in that blue gaze, felt the heat as it radiated from her shiny dark hair. “Diana … how are you feeling?”

  “I feel wonderful, Ethan. Absolutely wonderful. At peace with myself.” Her words were cloaked with peace and he felt his heart swell. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she said with a smile. “You were finally sleeping without that awful ragged breathing. But I’m glad you’re here.”

  How could he ever have thought he loved Meghan? Nothing was as strong as the love he felt for Diana right now—and yesterday, and even weeks ago when he’d first kissed her … and the way he would feel tomorrow, next year, and at the end of his life.

  “You look so beautiful sitting here. I was almost afraid to interrupt.”

  She smiled and reached up touch his hand, his love for her echoing back in the touch of her fingertips. “Ethan. I am so lucky to have found you.” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “I used to think I was lucky to have found Jonathan. What a fool I was.”

  Then the sharpness was gone again as though she couldn’t bear to ruin the moment, and her fingers stroked his jaw. “I would be a fool to walk away from this. From you. Can I stay in your place while Aunt Bee’s house is rebuilt?” she asked with an impish grin.

  “Diana, love, you can stay forever.�
� His voice dropped. “Will you stay forever?”

  She nodded, looking up at him with dancing eyes, and he pulled her to her feet for the softest, tenderest, most important kiss of his life. When they moved away to look at each other again, he saw that she was clutching a Tarot card.

  “What’s this?” he asked, teasing in his voice. “Are you reading cards now?”

  She offered it to him, and he looked down to see the figure of a man sitting on an ornate throne, holding a wand as a staff.

  “It’s my future,” she said. “It was the third card I drew for myself in a past, present, future spread—a few weeks ago. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it’s you.”

  King of Wands.

  He looked at her, his heart swelling, and reached for the cards. “Draw one for me.”

  Holding his gaze, she cut the deck, once, twice, thrice. Then, without looking, she chose a card and pulled it up so he could see it.

  Ace of Cups.

  His cup runneth over.

  ~*~*~

  ~*~

  Want more gothic romance from Colleen Gleason?

  check out

  The Shop of Shades and Secrets,

  featuring Ethan’s sister Fiona Murphy

  When Fiona Murphy inherits a small antiques shop from an old man she met only once, she’s filled with surprise, confusion and delight—and a little bit of terror at having a new responsibility in a life she prefers to be free and easy.

  As she takes over ownership of the quaint shop, odd things begin to happen. Lights come on and off by themselves, even when they are unplugged…and there is a chilly breeze accompanied by the scent of roses even when the windows are closed.

  H. Gideon Nath, III, is the stiff and oh-so-proper attorney who helps settle Fiona’s inheritance, and despite her flightiness and fascination with all things New Age, he finds himself attracted to her against his better judgment.

  After she finds an unpleasant surprise in one of the shop’s closets, scares off an intruder in the store, and uses her skill at palmistry to read Gideon’s future–of which she seems to be a part–Fiona begins to realize that her free and easy life is about to change…whether she wants it to or not.

  __

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  If you enjoy contemporary romance in an unusual setting,

  read on for an exclusive excerpt from

  Colleen Gleason’s alter ego, Joss Ware’s “electrifying”* Embrace the Night Eternal.

  Everything they knew is gone.

  From the raging fires, five men emerge with extraordinary new powers. They must learn how to survive this dark, ravaged world . . . but they cannot do it alone.

  Simon Japp will never forget his violent past. But when civilization is all but destroyed, he sees his chance for redemption. Blessed with a strange "gift," he's determined to help the resistance against the Strangers, the mysterious force that stalks them at every turn. He can't afford to get distracted, even by the stunning, soft-spoken woman fighting by his side . . .

  Sage Corrigan has learned to be careful where she places her trust. But she sees something good in Simon, even if he can't see it in himself. Posing as lovers to infiltrate a group key to their fight, they find that their staged affection soon develops into a desire that will leave them fighting for their lives in the night eternal . . .

  (*Library Journal)

  (excerpt from Embrace the Night Eternal)

  Somewhere in the former Western U.S. State of Nevada

  “So you do come up from out of your lair.”

  Sage Corrigan started, jolted from her contemplation of the sunset, and barely resisted the reflex to clap a hand to her leaping heart. She turned from the view of a roaring ball of red-orange, bisected by the horizon, and saw the man…Simon was his name…standing there behind her.

  A generous distance gapped between them, as if he took care not to get too close and spook her. As if she were a skittish cat.

  Maybe that’s what he thought. And maybe he wouldn’t be too far off about that.

  “Just because the only times you’ve seen me have been below doesn’t mean that I never come outside,” Sage replied, the words tripping sharply from her tongue. “I know I have pale skin, but I’m not some sort of vampire. Or…or…ghoul.”

  And, okay, she did spend a lot of time in the secret computer room two floors below ground level. Maybe too much time. But she was tired of being teased about it. Even Theo Waxnicki, her closest friend, had made a few comments recently about her propensity to stay below, alone, working hard in secrecy.

  That had ticked her off because Theo and his brother knew exactly why she spent so much time there. She was helping them in their secret war against the Strangers.

  “Sorry. Bad joke,” Simon replied. The inflection of his voice sounded different than anything she’d ever heard before—a slip of an accent, and a harsh, staccato rhythm, as if words were precious to him and therefore must be measured carefully.

  “How did you find me up here, anyway?” she asked, gesturing to the rooftop area around them. The yellow glow of setting sun muted the sharpness and color of the space, and below was the City of Envy, already shadowed from the close, tall buildings.

  Sage knew she sounded defensive, but it was hard to keep her voice measured when her heart was trammeling along at warp speed. She didn’t know this man very well, and she had no idea what to say to him. Most of her conversations were about facts—things she found while doing her research. Easy things to talk about.

  “Accidentally. I didn’t follow you.” He took a step back, as if to leave, his boots grinding quietly on the dingy rooftop.

  Sage looked at him, suddenly feeling guilty. It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t carry on a conversation. “You don’t have to go. It’s not my view.”

  He paused. “You want to be alone. I understand.”

  “No. Wait. Really.” Sage knew she sounded just as clipped as he did. She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t mind.”

  In fact, now that she was over her initial startle, she burned with curiosity. She’d been curious about Simon Japp and his four friends since they had arrived in Envy only a few weeks ago.

  Sage was twenty-eight, born twenty-three years after what everyone called the Change—the deep-seated earthquakes, raging fires and devastating weather that had destroyed 21st century civilization and nearly all of the human race. For the last half a century, the Survivors and their children and grandchildren had worked to rebuild some semblance of civilization. The result was this small pocket of a city—the largest settlement of humans—in what had once been the Western United States.

  Although they looked as if they were in their mid-thirties, Simon and his male friends had actually lived in that world fifty years ago.

  And somehow, they’d been preserved, intact, for decades in a place called Sedona. They’d emerged unscathed and unchanged from a cave, half a century after the earth, and life as they’d known it, had been annihilated.

  Simon was looking at her as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her implied invitation to stay—sort of sidewise, while half his attention appeared to be focused out over the city.

  She was struck, as she had been every time she’d seen him, by how simply beautiful his face was. Lean and chiseled, with perfect angles at chin and jaw, cheeks and nose, his was the most handsome face she’d ever seen. He had dark, exotic eyes with slender, well-formed brows arching over them, and a mouth that looked as if it had been carved lovingly by some heavenly sculptor.

  And yet, despite the startling beauty of his face, Simon had an aura of reservation about him. Reservation and…something else. Something she couldn’t quite define.

  It was in his eyes. Something haunting…something dark.

  As always, his walnut-colored hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She’d never seen it loose, so she wasn�
�t sure how long it was, but it looked as if it would just brush his shoulders. He wore a crimson t-shirt that hugged his muscular upper arms and loose, comfortable pants with many pockets.

  Curiosity gave her the words. “Had you been here…before?” She gestured to the city below, her hand spanning what had once been known as The Las Vegas Strip. She’d seen pictures of it, had heard about it from Lou and Theo Waxnicki, who had also been alive during the Change.

  Now what was left of the city was known as New Vegas, or N.V.

  Envy.

  He stepped closer, coming nearer to the edge of the building, but not any closer to her. “Yes. Many times.”

  Silence descended and she followed his gaze, looking out over the landscape of buildings demolished by the furious earthquakes, of steel beams and jagged walls now sprouting trees, bushes, and grass. And beyond, the ocean, glittering fire, bronze and orange as the sun touched it. She knew that fifty years ago, the ocean had been nowhere near Las Vegas, and that more than half the cluster of tightly-packed hotels and resorts had crumbled beneath the onslaught of the Change.