Cupid Painted Blind - A Collection of Paranormal Romance Stories

by Powell, C. G. ; Lavender, Cait; Rayns, Lisa; Hardin, Olivia; Nelson, Stephanie; Schulte, Liz

  Liz Schulte’s blog:

  http://www.enteringbatcountry.blogspot.com/

  Facebook:

  http://www.facebook.com/liz.schulte

  Twitter:

  http://twitter.com/lizschulte

  GoodReads:

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4755336.Liz_Schulte

  Other books by Liz Schulte

  Dark Corners

  Secrets – Book 1 in the Guardian Trilogy

  Choices – Book 2 in the Guardian Trilogy (Coming soon)

  Autumn’s Call

  By Lisa Rayns

  Chapter 1

  “Brownies,” Grandma said conclusively.

  Autumn dug her left heel into the palomino’s side and rocked her hips, urging the horse forward until she caught up with the other rider. “Brownies?”

  “Aye.”

  Dark clouds loomed above the open Montana range making the approaching forest appear menacing and spooky to a girl of twelve. She stroked the horse’s soft, cream-colored neck to calm her own fears before she clutched the reins tighter and steered closer to Grandma.

  “We always treated the Brownies good, and that’s why they followed us here from Scotland. They do that. They git attached and they’s protective too. They’ll protect ya home and if ya ask em for a fava real nice and treat em with respect, they’ll come to ya aid.”

  Grandma’s kind face, though marked with deep lines from years of worry and hard work, didn’t turn up a smile. Dressed in jeans and a button-up cowboy shirt, she didn’t fidget or give away any other signs of teasing. She didn’t even twirl her long gray hair. That meant she was serious.

  Autumn couldn’t believe Grandma hadn’t mentioned the Brownies before, but she nodded and listened studiously. “What are they?”

  “Invisible brown elves. Good-natured little fellas. Porridge is their favorite but they like cookies and milk too, honey. Leave somethin’ out before ya go to bed. If ya treat em right, they work all night cleanin’ but if ya forget to leave out a snack, they play tricks on ya. Not mean ones, mind ya, but harmless ones. Tie ya shoe laces together, stuff like that.”

  At the edge of the forest, Grandma pulled on her reins and pointed upward. “Notice, lass. See how this tree is taller than the rest? It’s dead center in the middle of the woods. Make sure ya take this path. Don’t take another one or ya bound to get lost.”

  Autumn gave another nod and tucked a gob of brownish-red hair behind her ear. “Got it.”

  “They can heal some with their magic too,” she added as her horse headed into the forest.

  Tall, thick trees towered over the grassy path that easily spanned the two horses. Autumn feigned bravery but her horse rode close to Grandma’s. Branches snapped under hooves, and birds sang desperate, high-pitched songs from their perches far above. A quarter of a mile in, the trees opened up.

  In the clearing stood a small, gray-stone cottage with a blue roof. A weeping willow tree hung over it protectively and flowers of every color surrounded the structure leaving only a walkway to the door. Bright and cheery, the little house seemed out of place in the otherwise creepy woods.

  “Granddad, God rest his soul, built this when ya were born. Said he had a dream ya’d need it one day.”

  “It’s for me?” Autumn gasped, staring in awe at the enchanted property.

  “Yes, lass. It’s got a fireplace, electrical, runnin’ water, and the deed to this acreage is in ya name.”

  “Wow…”

  “The Brownies are waitin’ here for ya, so if ya ever need a safe place, Autumn, come here.”

  With the dream of her long lost Grandma still fresh in her mind, Autumn wanted to lay still and reminisce, but her body screamed for attention. Her head throbbed, her muscles ached, her knees stung, and her neck burned like it was on fire. Lifting her head, she sucked in a huge mouthful of cool air to make sure she was still alive, still breathing. She was.

  At the movement, Charm offered a reassuring snort, and she appreciated knowing the horse hadn’t abandoned her after the accident. That meant she might make her destination before the storm front moved in. She’d been navigating by the wind but ultimately she depended on his instincts to get her to the cottage safely. Now, he grazed nearby; the low, rhythmic chewing suggested he stood three yards or so to her left.

  She opened her eyes to complete darkness. She would never get used to it, even if she had a hundred years to live––which she didn’t.

  Lying horizontal on her stomach, she curled her fingers and recognized the feel and the smell of earth and overgrown grass. Another faint scent hung in the air, old or musty, but that gave her no clue as to her whereabouts. The chilly September breeze blew against her face when she sat up to assess her injuries.

  With a groan, she placed her hand on the left side of her forehead to feel for damage. Warm, tin-smelling liquid coated a deep three-inch gash and ran down the side of her face. She wiped her hand on her jeans and found the material over her knees shredded from the impact of hitting the ground. Her oversized sweatshirt fell off one shoulder and felt wet in spots as if splattered by liquid. The sticky flesh on her neck curled outward around four tiny teeth indents.

  A leathery and fuzzy creature with wings had latched onto her neck. A bat, she assumed, although a tiny dragon wouldn’t have been out of the question for the size of the thing. The attack frightened the horse enough to send her flying into…

  Reaching out, she slid over to the spot where her head had been. She rubbed her hands around the thick stone that sprouted from the earth; rectangular shaped with rounded corners. She found the front smooth, save for engraved words which she traced with her fingers––R-i-c-h-a-r-d-H-a-r-t-s-y.

  Her heartbeat increased with each letter, and she felt the color run out of her face. A slamming door echoed through her mind, making her flinch before a tear rolled down her cheek. She had to lean against the granite tombstone for support as her mind swam through territories she’d tried so hard to stay out of. She saw herself saying, “I can’t see you anymore.” She saw the fight that followed, the slamming door, the visit from the police, the talk of poison.

  “Richard…”

  The lonely hilltop cemetery sat two miles from her ranch home and five from her destination. Knowing her location, however, provided little comfort.

  The doctors finally discovered the cause of her vision problem and headaches. She’d gone completely blind a month ago. That was when they gave her the grim diagnosis about a tumor that couldn’t be removed. It swelled and the pressure on her optical nerve caused the blindness. Now the blindness came with a death sentence––she had a week to live. “We’ve checked the tests three times. There’s no mistake,” they’d assured her only hours ago.

  Lightheaded and weak, she let the soothing music of the wind calm her. With a long sigh, she hugged her knees to her chest and allowed her own terminal news to slowly settle in.

  She’d wanted so much more out of life: a career, love, and then one day a family. Of course things hadn’t worked out in the right order. Her career had barely begun at twenty when she fell deeply in love with Richard, a wonderful and nearly flawless man. At that young age, the decision for her career to come first seemed so logical, but her heart suffered irreversible damage the day she ended the year-long affair. Now, at twenty-five, she had nothing but an empty void where her life used to be. No career, no love, and no family left at all.

  She’d lost her sight, her animal photography career, and the ability to take care of her ranch by herself, though she tried. She prided herself on being a survivor, a trait instilled in her since she was three years old. That year her parents died, followed by her grandfather.

  But Grandma endured, for her sake. She cared for Autumn, the animals, and worked full-time in town without complaint. She only broke down at night when she wept over Grandpa’s picture, whispering, “We’ll be together again one day.”

  And I’ll be reunited with…

  Autumn placed her han
d on the tombstone, a fresh wave of moisture brewing. “No one.”

  Before another tear fell, a deep rumbling vibrated in the air and a chill permeated her bones. The wind picked up, creating a ghostly whistle.

  “Charm,” she called nervously as she struggled to her feet. She pulled an emergency carrot out of her back pocket and held it out toward the grazing horse. When the vegetable disappeared, she grabbed the end of the reins and wrapped them around her hand.

  She and the black and white appaloosa made the trip to the cottage often. She stayed there every weekend since Richard’s death…Richard’s murder. Hiding out. Hoping she wouldn’t be caught, praying no one would call her on her sin.

  After another rumble, the horse reared and whinnied, and she would have lost him if she hadn’t secured the reins around her hand. Instinctually, she stepped back, praying his powerful hooves wouldn’t come down on her head or foot.

  “It’s all right, Charm,” she called in a calming voice even though the noise alarmed her as well. It sounded like thunder but it came from the west instead of the sky. She turned her head that direction. “What is it, boy?”

  “It’s a death cloud,” a smooth, sexy male voice said from directly behind her.

  “What’s a––”

  Panic set in quickly. Autumn had gotten pretty good at sensing people over the last month while her eyes took a permanent vacation. If someone was close, she’d hear their telltale breaths or the movement of their clothes, but an odd stillness consumed the area around her. She hadn’t sensed anyone at all, but it concerned her more that she still didn’t.

  She turned her head to listen better. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s a ground tornado wrapped into a ball. Death walks within and destroys everything in his path until he gets who he seeks. You’ll see him when he gets closer.”

  A tidal wave of fear crashed down on her. The image the stranger portrayed overrode her curiosity of him. “He’s coming for me, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “How…how long before he gets here?”

  “Fifteen minutes or so. It’s not moving fast, but slow and steady. On horseback, you can easily stay ahead of him for a bit. Eventually though, he always gets who he wants.”

  She shook her head. “I’m too young to die.”

  “Too beautiful too, but you did just hit a tombstone hard enough to wake the dead. There’s bound to be repercussions for that.”

  “Wake the dead?” she asked, still bewildered by the motionlessness in her immediate surroundings. “What are you saying?”

  “You woke me,” he said slowly, seemingly right in her face.

  She stumbled backward toward the horse, tripped over her own foot, and tumbled onto the ground, her mind stuttering with shock. “What…you’re telling me you’re a ghost?”

  When two arms slid to her elbows to help her up, she shook off the hiccup of her senses along with her question. He couldn’t be a ghost. Ghosts wouldn’t have such muscular biceps. The man smelled divine too, a beautiful musk that reminded her of a warm, cozy night curled up by the fire. Once on her feet, she oscillated, disoriented from her change in position and the pain in her head. He held on and moved with her as she swayed.

  “That wasn’t very funny,” she said, once her head stopped spinning.

  He released her arms abruptly. “I didn’t mean it to be.”

  Noting he was a little taller than her, she tilted her head accordingly. “You’re not a ghost,” she insisted defensively. Reeling in the reins, she backed away from the man, but her hands shook as she fumbled to get her foot in the stirrups. Once it slipped into place, she added, “But I’ll be one if I don’t leave soon… You should come with me. I don’t think you’re safe here either.”

  No one replied.

  “I’m losing my mind,” she grumbled after several minutes of silence.

  Dismissing the stranger, she mounted her horse as another rumble resounded over the grasslands. She quickly orientated herself with the wind, made her best attempt to steer toward the cottage, and then smacked the horse’s ass with the end of the reins. Charm lunged forward as if a starting gate were opened. She gave him the free will to run as fast as he wanted toward the only safe place she knew to go.

  The Brownies would protect her. They had to!

  Chapter 2

  Autumn tried to sit up but her brain hammered against her skull as the horse galloped. She grew woozy from the pain or the blood loss. It didn’t matter which. If she lost her balance, her hope to escape death would end. Gritting her teeth, she leaned forward and tightened her grip on the saddle horn.

  Then Charm stopped so abruptly she had to drop the reins and push off his neck to avoid over spilling onto the ground. He reared, and she landed on her ass, stunned.

  The dancing of hooves suggested he reared again, and when he did, the end of a rein brushed her hand. She caught one and jumped up, instinctually taking control of the animal. “Shhh… It’s all right, boy,” she cooed as she rubbed his neck with long strokes.

  After several minutes, he calmed and even leaned down to graze. She leaned over too, to vomit and heave, but at least the ground thunder sounded much further away.

  “I’ve seen murder victims who’ve had better days,” the same male voice from the hill said.

  Autumn straightened and leaned against the horse, certain she was delirious. The time-released morphine pill she’d taken at the hospital finally kicked in and dulled the pain, making her giggle. It came out as a free sound, playful and happy, like she used to be only months ago. “Really?” she teased, feigning intrigue at the imaginary voice. “And have you seen a lot of murder victims?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I have,” he answered seriously. “Lay down.”

  Shaking her head, she tried to grasp what crime show she’d watched one too many times, and she couldn’t fathom why her imagination would want her to lay down. Death was chasing her for pity sakes! Now wasn’t the time to––

  Suddenly, hands grasped the reins from her and tugged her down until she sat. The man’s scent filled her senses, causing a dazed effect which generated a smile on her face. For the first time, she heard fabric moving, and then he gently pushed her back to lie on the ground. Something soft lay under her head. More fabric moved. He leaned over her, placing the material over her head and applying pressure.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she breathed, but her fingers reached up to feel the muscular curves of a bare chest. And what a nice chest it was!

  “I need to stop the bleeding,” he said as though it bothered him.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” she lied. “I’ll get it looked at later.”

  “Before or after you bleed out?”

  The concern in his tone made her long to see what he looked like and what expression his face held. He sounded handsome, and if the size of his arms and chest were any clue to the rest of his body, it was damn nice too.

  She smiled warmly toward the sound of his voice. “You’re actually quite nice.”

  “I have my moments.”

  Inhaling deeply, she pictured the man above her. For some reason the only face she could come up with was Richard’s. Not that she wouldn’t love to see Richard again, but she doubted he would be so caring after what she’d done. Still, the image of a man, any man caring for her after so many years of being alone made her feel comfortable. She let her fingers wander up to his cool chest. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “I can stop the bleeding, but I doubt you’ll last the night.”

  Autumn grimaced and dropped her hands, once again attacked by hopelessness. “Strike that nice comment,” she grumbled. “What are you doing out in the middle of nowhere anyway?”

  He chuckled as the end of the rag brushed her sore neck. “No one should spend their last night alone.”

  “You’re here for me?”

  “Yes, of course I am.”

  She puffed out a breath. “Is that a good thing? You’re stalling me, keeping me
from saving myself.”

  “I have to stop the bleeding so you have time to work through your problems.”

  “I don’t have any problems,” she scoffed.

  “Really? Okay.” Suspicion lingered in his tone. “Tell me what happened to you? Why are you covered in blood?”

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t my fault. An animal attacked me, a bat, and then the horse freaked out and dumped me onto a grave.”

  “A bat attacked you? A real one?” He waited for her nod and then his voice shifted solemnly. “And then what?”

  “What do you mean ‘and then what?’ And then I passed out. I must have hit my head pretty hard too because now I’m hallucinating.”

  “Hallucinating?” he asked with humor.

  “Yes, you’re not real.”

  “Then who is holding his shirt on your head?”

  Autumn frowned. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m just trying to make sense of you.”

  “I saw what happened to you.”

  Her eyebrows pulled together automatically. “Then why did you make me tell you?”

  “I thought it might help with your denial problems.”

  “What denial problems?”

  “You are dying.”

  Autumn’s heart pounded as her mouth fell open and anger washed through her body. “Just who do you think you are?”

  “I’m the only one who’s trying to help you.”

  Though probably true, she grew outraged by his intimation that she was utterly alone in the world. “Fine! I’m dying! I’m admitting it. Now, I’m moving onto anger. That’s the second step, isn’t it? I already got this speech before I left the hospital!”

  “You’re not ready for anger yet,” he said calmly. “There’s something else you’re denying.”

  Ragged breaths spilled from her mouth and a red caution light flashed through her mind. She placed her hands on his sturdy chest and pushed him off of her, then rose and moved toward the sound of grazing. When she located her horse, she put a hand on the saddle and turned to the man. “How do you know that?” she asked suspiciously. “Who are you?”