Body Temperature and Rising - Book One of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy

by K D Grace

  ‘Because you’re a rider,’ Fiori broke her silence, ‘a rider who doesn’t need the spell. I assume Tim Meriwether has told you all about it.’

  Marie nodded, feeling like it was just the thin layer of her own skin holding her together, keeping her from flying apart with all of this information she didn’t want. ‘And you’re saying I unleashed this … this …’

  ‘Deacon,’ Sky said. ‘He calls himself Deacon.’

  ‘You’re saying I unleashed this Deacon in the same way my touch can enflesh Anderson?’

  ‘That’s the only explanation,’ Sky replied. ‘We bound him securely after the incident with Tim Meriwether three months ago. We were very careful to make sure he had no avenues into the flesh, then you show up, and suddenly he’s shoving his way in again.’

  ‘But I didn’t do anything. I would never want someone like that free. I mean it was different with Anderson, but this man is a murderer, and he’s …’ She found herself suddenly at a loss for words, suddenly fighting tears again.

  ‘Oh, it’s not your fault,’ Tara said. ‘Deacon is clever. He would have been aware of everything that has anything to do with me, and the people I care about.’ She looked down at her hands folded now in her lap. ‘And until you came along, the only other person walking among the living I had reason to protect was Tim Meriwether, though I had to do it very stealthily and with the help of the spirits. Deacon knew the minute you arrived, as did we, that there was something extraordinary about you. We knew up on the fells that you could see Anderson. We knew that you were a rider. But we didn’t know until you enfleshed him without even being aware of what you were doing just how much power you wielded, and just how dangerous that could be to all of us.’

  ‘And my getting lost? Was that a part of your little plan? Me losing my compass?’

  This time it was Anderson who replied. ‘The loss of your compass was none of our doing.’

  And once again Marie remembered the dark figure she had seen before Anderson came to her in the mist. ‘It was him.’

  They all nodded in unison, and her skin crawled at the thought of how close she had been to danger.

  ‘We sent Anderson because we thought he could guide you down safely without revealing himself, and protect you. We still didn’t know the extent of your powers,’ Tara said. ‘Not until you were in the cave with him did we realise what was happening.’

  Thoughts of her time in the cave with Anderson made the heat in her stomach dance in a much nicer way. ‘And the … the way it makes me feel?’ Marie found herself blushing.

  ‘It is your lust, your passion, my dear,’ Anderson said. ‘It is the power that drives every rider, the power that activates the magic. The uncomfortable heat you feel is a build-up of unchannelled sexual energy stimulated by the presence of a ghost. Never underestimate the power of human sexuality.’

  ‘OK, I can understand that with you, Anderson, but I certainly wasn’t turned on by this Deacon guy.’ Marie shivered at the thought.

  A meaningful glance passed between the rest of those present in the room, meaning that was lost on Marie. Fiori heaved a sigh and spoke. ‘Everyone is turned on by Deacon, Marie. Don’t doubt his appeal for one moment, or it may cost you dearly.’

  Marie ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes. When she opened them four pairs of eyes were looking back at her. ‘I feel like I’ve been dumped in the middle of a horror film. I’m just getting bits and pieces of what’s going on and none of it makes any sense.’

  Tara’s gaze was like fire against her, burning her almost like the heat low in her belly that she was strangely beginning to get used to. ‘What? What is it?’

  Tara took a deep breath and released it slowly. Her gaze was still locked on Marie’s. ‘I kept Tim Meriwether out of the loop, and it cost Fiori her life.’ She raised her hand to prevent Fiori’s response, ‘And now every day we fear for him as well. Deacon has had the upper hand long enough. We’ve got to stop fighting a defensive battle.’ She slid off the chair and knelt in front of Marie, taking her hands in hers. ‘Marie, if you’re willing, we can show you everything, we can help you understand.’ She squeezed her hands hard. ‘But it won’t be easy for you. It may be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.’

  ‘Understanding would be a good start.’ The hammering of Marie’s heart in her throat felt like it would suffocate her.

  ‘You have already dreamed with us and thus inadvertently participated in our magic,’ Anderson said, moving still closer to her. ‘One can only imagine how confusing that must have been with you having no context for such an experience.’

  For the first time, the fire in her pelvic girdle calmed to an even spread of warmth. ‘This isn’t going to go away, is it? What’s happening to me, what I’ve become?’

  ‘No,’ Anderson whispered.

  And Tara shook her head, her eyes dark and sympathetic.

  ‘And afterwards?’ The words pressed themselves up her throat.

  Tara released a long sigh. ‘Afterwards, once you understand, then we’ll teach you how to cope. We’ll teach you how to use your magic. We’ll teach you what’s good and wonderful about becoming what you are, what we all are.’

  Marie closed her eyes and swallowed hard, then looked around at everyone, they all seemed slightly out of focus, but before she could respond, Anderson spoke.

  ‘Tara, my love, you realise the risk you will be taking, I have no doubt. But do you not think it wise to inform Marie of the risk she will be taking?’

  Tara turned to Marie, whose hands she still held. ‘You might die, or worse.’

  There was a collective intake of breath in the room, all ghostly. Marie found herself calmer than she could remember being in months, maybe years.

  ‘And if I don’t do this magic with you? If I go home and try to ignore you like Tim has?’

  ‘You might die, or worse,’ Tara repeated.

  ‘And this Deacon guy, will he leave me alone?’

  Tara’s eyes darkened and the emotions that flooded her face were too many and too fast for Marie to read, but for the tiniest of seconds she caught a glimpse of sorrow so deep that it left her breathless. Then Tara’s mask was once again firmly in place. She shook her head. ‘Never, not as long as I’m alive he won’t.’

  The answer really came as no surprise, though the fact that it didn’t, the fact that it didn’t shake her resolve surprised her a lot. She held Tara’s gaze. ‘Then I don’t really see that I have a choice, do I?’

  Into the charged atmosphere, the doorbell rang, repeatedly accompanied by a heavy pounding. Only Marie jumped.

  A knowing look passed between Tara and Anderson, and the ghost rose to answer the door.

  Before Tara could continue with what she had been saying there was a loud commotion in the hallway, a sound of something heavy crashing on the floor, and Tim Meriwether burst into the room with Anderson right behind him. ‘Where is she?’ He was shouting, breathing like he’d just ran a marathon. ‘Where’s Marie?’

  He stopped at the door with Anderson nearly ploughing into him and took in the scene, Sky and Fiori were seated in wing backed chairs to one side and Tara still knelt on the floor with Marie’s hands in hers.

  The clench of his jaw, the tension along his neck muscles combined with his uncombed hair and untucked shirt caused a different kind of tingle at Marie’s centre. His icy gaze fell on Tara. ‘Get away from her.’ His voice was little more than a low growl.

  ‘Tim, what the fuck is the matter with you,’ Marie began. ‘You can’t just walk in –’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Tara interrupted. Her voice was calm and suddenly very remote. She gave Marie’s hands another reassuring squeeze and moved back to her chair. Tim stormed in and grabbed Marie by the arm, but she jerked away. ‘What the hell’s going on, who do you think you are –’

  ‘Did she tell you it was her? She didn’t, did she?’ He cut her off and threw a venomous glance at Tara. Anderson bristled, but Tara calmed him, calmed the
m all with a quick look. All except for Tim Meriwether.

  ‘Tim, what the hell are you on about?’ The anger and irritation at Tim’s bad behaviour gave way to something a little more frightening as his gaze came to rest on Fiori, and his eyes darkened.

  Then he addressed Tara again. ‘If you don’t tell her, I will.’ He grabbed Marie by the arm and manhandled her from her seat. ‘We’re leaving, Marie, now, while we still can.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, damn it!’ she jerked back so hard that she lost her balance and toppled back onto the sofa. ‘What the hell’s wrong with you? Tell me what?’

  ‘Tara didn’t tell you that she’s the one who killed Fiori, did she? That she’s actually the one who snapped Fiori’s neck.’ Before anyone could respond he shot another glance at Fiori. ‘Did you think I couldn’t tell? Did you think I wouldn’t know? And yet here you sit like her lap dog after what she did. Is that how she controls you? Did she do it to you too?’ He nodded to Sky, who bristled, then calmed at Tara’s glance.

  ‘Where the hell did you get that idea,’ Marie slapped at him as he grabbed for her again. ‘That’s not what happened. I saw what happened. It was Deacon. Deacon killed Fiori, and who the hell do you think you are waltzing in here and –’

  ‘I know what you saw. I saw it too,’ Tim interrupted, running a heavy hand through his hair. ‘Jesus, I’ve seen it every night in my dreams since it happened, but don’t you see? It’s what she wants us to see.’ He gave a vicious nod to Tara. ‘What she wants us to believe.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. You’re totally mad, why would she do that?’

  ‘I don’t know, to control them, to control us? I don’t know. But it’s true, ask her. Just ask her.’

  Anderson grabbed for Tim, but he shrugged free and pulled Marie forcefully up off the sofa again with her fighting and clawing and kicking, as the room erupted in chaos. Her foot landed hard on the inside of Tim’s calf just as Anderson wrestled Tim away from Marie, but not before getting an elbow in the stomach. The two men were like wild animals in a cage, knocking over a chair and smashing two cups onto the Turkish carpet. Sky and Fiori were both shouting at once, Sky grabbing for Anderson and Fiori for Tim. And all the while Marie’s stomach burned like fire.

  ‘Stop it! Stop it now!’ Tara’s voice rose above the din. ‘I’ll have no more of this violence in my home. Enough.’ A deafening silence fell over the room, one that Marie wasn’t entirely sure might not have been magically enforced. Everyone froze, no one breathed. Even the ghosts held their breath. Tara still sat unmoving in her chair as though none of this had anything to do with her.

  Then Marie shoved her way out from between Anderson and Tim and moved to stand in front of Tara. ‘Is it true? Is what Tim says true?’

  ‘You don’t understand. You don’t understand how it happened, what it was like,’ Fiori began, but Tara silenced her with a glance that could have almost been a caress. The redhead leaned forward in her chair and her eyes welled with tears. ‘But they need to know. They need to understand.’ Sky reached out to her and took her hand.

  Then Tara turned her attention back to Marie. For a long time she said nothing. Anderson said something under his breath in what Marie thought might have been Italian. The knot of fire in her stomach suddenly felt more like ice. ‘Is it true?’ she asked again. She made no attempt to hide the tremor in her voice. Even with her skills at the negotiating table, she couldn’t have if she’d wanted to.

  ‘It’s true,’ Tara’s voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. ‘It’s true I killed Fiori. Tim is right.’

  Both Fiori and Anderson started to speak. She silenced them with a glance, and Marie stumbled backwards, steadied herself on the edge of the upturned chair, and gave Tim a hard shove when he reached for her.

  There was chaos again, arguing and shouting, but she was outside of it all, moving in a different dimension, watching it all from a cold grey place. She watched herself run out of Elemental Cottage. She heard Tara tell Anderson to let her go. She watched Tim come after her, yelling something about her safety something about her not being alone right now. She watched herself get into her car and drive away, screeching her tyres on the driveway. She watched herself turn away from the road that led to Lacewing Farm and keep driving.

  She didn’t know how long she had driven aimlessly. When she came back to herself, it felt like she had been somewhere else for ages, maybe even for years. It took her a little while to realise she was driving over the Kirkstone Pass in the greying dawn. With a start, she recalled that she might not be alone, but there was no burning sensation between her hip bones, and when she called out Anderson’s name, there was no response. As for the possibility that she might with equal ease conjure up Deacon, well she didn’t even want to think about that.

  As she descended from the pass and drove along the shore of Ullswater, she thought she might just drive forever. Something about driving gave her a sense of security, albeit a false one. She was certain of that, as the memories of the past 48 hours lapped at her in waves not unlike those on the windy shore of the lake. In the end, she circled back on to the A66 as the sun turned the saddle of Blencathera pink. There was no place else to go but Lacewing Farm. It was now the only home she had, and there was no going back to Portland. She had burned her bridges even if she did want to return, and she didn’t. Like it or not she would have to face Tim. She would need him. They would need each other. This was not the time to be without allies.

  Chapter 8

  Tim was in the stable with the mare when she arrived. She could see his broad back through the open door. A sudden eruption of butterflies in her stomach made her skittish like the mare had been, was it only yesterday morning? It made her not want to face him, not just yet. As she watched him moving about the stable, heard him talking softly to the horse, the ache she felt was a very human one, one that sprang from being alive and not wanting to be alone and all the other things that living entailed. It was not the fiery burn that accompanied the presence of spirits. It felt cleaner somehow, more sane. But on some deeper level, it felt at least as frightening, so she swallowed hard and turned quietly toward her cottage.

  She was half way up the porch steps when she changed her mind, squared her shoulders and headed for the stables.

  When he saw her, he surprised her by scooping her into his arms, holding her tight, so tight she could barely catch her breath. A sense of relief rushed over her, a feeling that she wasn’t in this alone, and she held him tight right back.

  ‘I was so scared,’ he spoke against her ear, his voice thick with emotions. ‘I didn’t know what they’d do to you, if they’d follow you, and I didn’t know where you’d gone or where to look for you. I couldn’t bear the thought of it happening to you. What happened to Fiori.’

  She said nothing; she wasn’t sure she could speak without blubbering.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered against her hair. ‘This is not how I wanted it to be. This is not what I wanted you to know about me.’

  ‘What?’ She pulled away enough to look up into his eyes, ‘Tim I don’t blame you for any of this. I still don’t know what to think about it all. I don’t know …’ Her voice drifted off. ‘Do you think we should go to the police?’

  ‘And tell them what?’ he said stepping back. ‘We’re the only ones who know. We’re the only ones who can tell they’re dead. To anyone else Fiori and Sky look as real and alive as you and I do, as real as that Anderson bloke you let plough you. He must have been impressed, the way he fought me.’

  This time the clench in her stomach was anger. ‘You son of a bitch!’ She shoved him with the flat of her hand and he yielded, perhaps too shocked to do anything else. She shoved him again. ‘What the hell business is it of yours who I let plough me anyway, and for your information, yeah, he liked it just fine. Like you care.’ She shoved him again, and the mare looked up from munching her breakfast. ‘Lest we forget that you ploughed Fiori. Oh that’s right, I forgot that was different
. She wasn’t dead when you fucked her, so that makes it all right.’

  She saw his face darken, and in her own mind’s eye, she saw the woman’s tragic death, and for a split second she wished she hadn’t said anything, but damn it, he was such a bastard. ‘First you treat me like I don’t exist, then you go all big brother on me like I’m too delicate and soft-brained to take care of myself. Well I have news for you, Tim Meriwether, I was taking care of myself for a long time before you decided I needed looking after.’ She shoved again, and this time he grabbed her with such force that she felt the bones in her neck pop.

  With her forward momentum, he stumbled over an uneven paving stone, lost his footing and went over backward into a manger full of fresh hay, pulling her on top of him.

  Before she could shove and claw her way to her feet, He grabbed her around the waist and rolled, pinning her beneath the weight of his body. He gave her no time to think about it, but pulled her into a bruising kiss, forcing her lips apart, probing her hard pallet with his dexterous tongue, biting her lower lip before he came up fighting for the breath to speak. ‘I think about you a lot, Marie,’ His chest rose and fell in hungry gasps. ‘But I promise you, none of those thoughts were even remotely brotherly.’

  She bucked underneath him and clawed at his shirt. ‘Then do something about it, damn it, and stop toying with me.’ Several buttons popped and flew across the stable floor. He forced her legs apart with his knee, moving it up to rub against the crotch of her jeans. She shoved his shirt open and arched up to him as he pushed her T-shirt up and manoeuvred and tugged, forcing her breasts free from her bra into his splayed hands and hungry lips.

  She fumbled with the fly of his jeans, sliding an anxious hand into his boxers. He huffed a breathless grunt, and the muscles low in his stomach tensed as she closed her fingers around his engorged penis and began to stroke.

  He had just began the anxious efforts with her own fly when suddenly the stable door slammed shut, and the light bulb overhead exploded in a shower of fine glass plunging the two into total darkness.