Addictive Paranormal Reads Halloween Box Set

by Nana Malone

  For the second time in less than twenty minutes, a woman walked away from him. The professor’s low, rigid voice echoed in his head, chilling his blood. Screw warning, he had the distinct impression her words had been closer to a threat.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 4

  Ali skimmed the printed page in front of her, checking for typos. She’d finished the assignment a day early and wanted to hand it in before she second guessed herself and started editing—again. Not only was she nervous because of Aunt Liz’s notorious mood swings, but she’d never read anything of Ali’s, and Ali wanted the first thing she turned in to be better than just good.

  Halfway through the second page, movement registered from the corner of her eye. A brief sideways glance made her do a double take as Ryan moved through the row to take a seat beside her.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  As if her pulse weren’t racing fast enough, his knee brushed hers under the table, sending a jolt of awareness through her.

  “Hi,” she replied, uneasy about his sudden proximity and her own instant reaction. She hadn’t been able to get his comment out of her mind about the black cloud surrounding her in his dream. Which only served to bring back her own dream, and the fact that she couldn’t tell if it was a woman or a man who watched her drown.

  Further research last night revealed dark storm clouds in dreams could represent danger, or signify the dreamer’s subconscious warning of an upcoming violent outburst. Despite having felt drawn to him, the signs all but screamed for her to stay away.

  He shifted in his seat, facing her as he leaned closer. That rich brown gaze locked with hers, and she couldn’t look away.

  “Listen, I know this is a bit awkward after yesterday, but I wanted to ask you—”

  “How’s the critiquing going?”

  Ryan jumped as if poked with a hot iron. Ali swung her attention from him to Aunt Liz, who now stood in front of them.

  “What?” she asked.

  “The critiquing, Ali,” Liz repeated, her gaze narrowing. “Have you found that you and Ryan are compatible?”

  “We haven’t had a chance to exchange our work yet,” he interjected before Ali could make sense of the question. “But we’re going to today. In fact, this is for me, right?”

  He reached over and snatched her paper off the desk.

  “No.” When she turned to glare at him in utter confusion, hand extended in demand that he return her pages, a hint of desperation in his eyes beseeched her to go along with whatever the hell was going on. She couldn’t explain why or how, but the urge to help him overrode all else, and she withdrew her hand. “I mean, it is, but I was double checking for typos first.”

  Relief filled his grin. “That’s what critique partners are for. I’ll mark them if I find any. I didn’t get a chance to print mine, but we can talk after class, if that’s okay?”

  “Sure, great.”

  “Marvelous,” Liz agreed.

  Contrary to her word choice, her tone conveyed the opposite. Ali had no chance to consider the strange reaction when the professor abruptly spun on her red stiletto and stepped to the front of the room to begin class.

  While her aunt lectured about the merits of James Michener, Ali couldn’t get the past few minutes out of her head. Ducking her chin and tilting her head toward Ryan, she let her hair obscure her face from Aunt Liz.

  “What was that all about?” she whispered.

  In the middle of her sentence, Aunt Liz raised her voice to ask, “Can anyone remind Alison what rule number one is?”

  Complete silence reigned in the class. Face burning, Ali shook her hair back and gave her aunt a brief smile. “I apologize, Professor, it won’t happen again.”

  The answering smile and ice-blue glare sent a chill along Ali’s spine.

  “I don’t expect it will.”

  Liz continued from mid-sentence as if the entire exchange hadn’t taken place. Chastised and indignant in spite of the rules, and knowing the woman’s propensity to switch from friend to witch in the blink of an eye, Ali kept her gaze downcast for the rest of class.

  While absently taking notes, she wondered how she and Ryan had suddenly become critique partners. That outcome had been her plan upon entering the coffee shop yesterday morning, but as she’d never actually gotten around to asking the question...

  Did his supposed psychic abilities extend past seeing the future and include mind-reading? She would’ve laughed at the idea if her creative writing assignment wasn’t in his possession right now. And why was Liz so unhappy about the arrangement? How had she even known?

  More questions to which she didn’t have the answers. But she would. As soon as—

  “Alison?”

  She lifted her chin to find Liz watching her intently. Once again, the use of her full name told her she wasn’t going to enjoy what was to come. “Yes?”

  “We’d all love to hear your thoughts on the subject.”

  The challenge in the professor’s voice simultaneously bottomed out Ali’s stomach and stirred her resentment. Great. Today of all days, she got Witch Liz. She’d seen Liz belittle her mother in the past, and it wasn’t pretty. Why is she picking on me today?

  She glanced down at her notes, barely legible, but she was able to pick out setting as character, stereotypes. “I think Michener’s approach to setting was anything but stereotypical. Centennial demonstrates how he effectively used the state of Colorado and the historical time period to create realistic, gripping conflict.”

  A small, condescending smile curved Liz’s mouth as she pivoted on one heel.

  “Character stereotypes,” Ryan advised under his breath.

  Damn. Ali shifted forward to lean her elbows on her desk and dug into her memory bank. “Furthermore, Michener extends that talent to his human characters, such as Pasquinel and McKeag. By setting them up as stereotypes, he played their differences off each other, pitting their beliefs and actions against each other, so they come across as three dimensional instead of cardboard.”

  Adrenalin surged, then fizzled as Ali watched Liz take deliberate steps to the podium where she surveyed her notes in silence, her anger palpable. Choking back dread that she’d just sunk her grade, Ali lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. She didn’t expect special treatment as a family friend, but respect went both ways. Maybe next time her dear aunt would think twice before bullying a student.

  “Thank you, Alison, for your…insight.” Without looking up, she added, “We will continue this discussion tomorrow, so I suggest you all brush up. Assignments are due at the beginning of class.”

  Ali grabbed her things and hurried to get lost in the departing crowd before Liz could think of a reason for her to stay. Still irritated over the exchange, she forgot about Ryan until she was halfway across the parking lot and heard his voice.

  “Ali! Hey, wait up.”

  She slowed her step and swung around to face him. As he jogged toward her, over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of a tall figure with long dark hair, standing in the shadow of the building at the top of the wide stairs. She squinted at the image as a bizarre sense of foreboding stole over her. Had Liz followed her outside?

  Ryan’s body blocked her view, and she shook off the odd feeling to focus on him. “Thanks for the save in there. Sorry I left so fast.”

  “I don’t blame you for bailing, but I wanted to explain about—oh, God, look out!”

  A horn blared behind her. Ryan dropped his bag and lunged forward, her things flying as his strong arms swept her off her feet. Tires squealed, followed by a loud crash at the same instant her body came to a sudden, jarring stop. Shattered glass pinged onto the asphalt as Ali registered the fact that she lay horizontal on the ground, her fall cushioned by Ryan’s body.

  “Ali? Are you okay?”

  His hands skimmed over her back and shoulders to cup her face. He lifted her head and their eyes met. Time stood still. Her lungs tightened in her chest as indefinable emotion darke
ned his eyes. Elemental awareness beyond their physical connection thrummed between them. It was the same as the connection she’d felt when she first saw him, only lying on top of him, the sensation multiplied by a hundred.

  “I…I’m fine.”

  Her whisper unfroze the moment that in reality probably lasted no more than a few seconds. His chest expanded before he released a huge sigh. She became aware of the crush of people surrounding them. Accepting assistance to her feet, Ali assured those helping that she was unharmed. When Ryan rose, she saw him wince as he straightened.

  She stepped closer to lay a hand on his forearm. “Are you okay?”

  “I forgot how hard the ground is,” he admitted with another grimace.

  “I’m sorry.” She squeezed his arm. “Thankful, but sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” After one last sweeping inspection as if to ensure she was indeed okay, Ryan eased past her, shifting his attention to the two guys who’d helped him up. “Is the driver okay? Anyone know what happened?”

  His questions brought the situation rushing back. Ali spun around and her eyes widened at the sight of a gray sedan smashed into the back of her jeep. She took a few steps, hand raised to her mouth in shock. She could’ve been caught between those two vehicles. Would have if Ryan hadn’t saved her.

  Out of nowhere, yesterday’s conversation resurfaced. In his dream, she’d been surrounded by a black cloud. Danger or violence. If this was the future he’d seen, cloaked in a scene of their first day of class, the danger seemed obvious—and it wasn’t from him.

  Off to the side of the accident, an older lady appeared shell-shocked, her hands shaking as she wiped tears from her face.

  “I d-don’t know what happened. I tried to stop. I really did—but the brakes didn’t work. I used both feet and my car wouldn’t stop.” She looked up, saw Ryan, glanced at Ali, and then turned her tear-streaked face back to Ryan. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t the brakes work?”

  As a couple of girls handed Ali her scattered belongings, whispers from onlookers became audible.

  “She was accelerating when she crashed.”

  “There are no skid marks.”

  “She swerved right for her.”

  In a daze, Ali accepted Ryan’s laptop bag and set it with her things near a tree. Awareness prickled along her skin. Sirens sounded in the distance, coming closer and she assumed someone had called 911. Tuning out the noise, she shifted her gaze over the gathered witnesses, her senses on overload as she tried to pinpoint the source of the unnerving sensation.

  Another thought struck. Would any of these people have risked their life like Ryan? Deep inside, her heart said no. She knew him no better than the other strangers around her, and yet she sensed now more than ever there was a reason for the invisible link between them.

  She continued to search the faces of the crowd. When conscious thought caught up with sight, her heart skipped a beat, then took off in a mad dash as she swung her attention back to the stairs in front of the building. The tall figure she’d spotted over Ryan’s shoulder just before the accident still watched.

  Her mind recognized Liz even though it was impossible to positively identify the woman’s face at this distance. Besides, if it was her, why would she just stand there watching if she’d witnessed what happened?

  People shifted, blocking Ali’s line of sight. Anxious for confirmation, she hurried forward, weaving through the bodies, but by the time she cleared the crowd, the shadowed landing stood empty.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 5

  Ryan signed off on his statement to the police officer and joined Ali as she finished a phone call while watching the tow-truck depart with her vehicle. She looked a bit lost and he fought the urge to pull her into his arms. Even keeping himself from reaching out to simply touch her was difficult.

  “Everything taken care of?”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at her cell phone before slipping it into her pocket. “That only took half the morning.”

  “So, now what? You need a ride?”

  The moment he made the suggestion, his stomach flipped and he prayed she said no. On the one hand, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight. On the other, he needed space to deal with the one hundred and eighty degree turn after having avoided her for the past week.

  There was more, in the moments of chaos…but God, that he couldn’t even wrap his mind around just yet.

  He waited for her answer, recalling the way she’d high-tailed it out of the coffee shop yesterday and figured he could already guess her reply. Thankfully.

  She stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, shoulders hunched as she gave him a tentative smile. “I’ve got a couple more classes this afternoon, but if you’re free after five, that would be great. All my friends either have night classes or they work, which means I’d have to call my mom, who would freak out and call my dad. Then they’d both rush over here to make sure I’m okay.”

  Shit. After all that, he definitely couldn’t take back the offer. “Five is fine.”

  Her smile widened. “Thanks.”

  He couldn’t help but return her smile, and they grinned at each other for an awkward moment before she moved over to pick up her things against the tree near where her jeep had been parked. He accepted his laptop bag when she handed it over.

  A brush of their fingers zapped his nerves. To cover his reflexive jerk, he quickly asked, “You don’t live on campus?”

  “Boulder is my home town.”

  “Ah. I’m in the dorms. Bonus is, I got this great neighbor across the hall.”

  She laughed at his unrestrained sarcasm. The inviting sound widened his smile and at the same time, it wound the anxiety in his gut even tighter. The conflicting reactions were equally unsettling.

  “Which way you headed?” she asked.

  “Visual Arts Complex. You?”

  “Opposite direction. So…I guess I’ll see you later.”

  He watched her walk away, red hair swaying with every step. Damn. Later seemed a lifetime away. “Ali.”

  She swung around, eyebrows raised.

  “Where am I picking you up?”

  Color tinged her cheeks as she laughed again. “That would help, wouldn’t it? How about five-fifteen at the coffee shop?”

  He gave a nod. When she continued on her way, he checked the time. Just perfect. He had six hours to figure out why his life suddenly felt like one big do-over.

  ***

  Ryan put on his turn signal when Ali told him to right at the next street. Six hours? Hell, if he’d have kept his mouth shut, twenty-four would’ve been even better. Maybe he could’ve skipped creative writing in the morning and hoarded forty-eight.

  He heaved a silent sigh and faced reality. There wasn’t enough time in the world to make sense of the weird shit he’d been experiencing.

  Historical visions of sex with his professor—who’d played footsie with him yesterday. Daydreams about a beautiful girl from the past who freaked him out in the present—and yet, on the twenty minute drive to her house, he couldn’t help but make her laugh, just to see that smile light up her expressive face.

  She directed him through an open set of tall gates, around a large house, to a smaller residence set toward the back of the property. Whatever reservations she’d harbored after their coffee shop conversation had completely dissipated after the accident, and when she invited him to stay for dinner, he could no more refuse than he could voluntarily stop breathing.

  “In the interest of full disclosure,” she added, “My parents live in the big house, and by dinner I meant I can dial the phone for take-out.”

  “Make it Chinese and I’m all yours.”

  “Good, because you still owe me an explanation and a story.”

  In acknowledgement of her reminder, he reached back to grab his laptop bag before exiting his SUV.

  Inside, he set his bag on her coffee table. His gaze was immediately pulled to a set of French doors beh
ind the couch, leading out to a spacious patio. Beyond the gray and red bricks lay a small pond, its weathered seating platform the only break in the green and brown cattails edging the shore.

  He stared for a moment, noting the striking contrast between the color of the plants in the setting sun and the slate-gray of the dark, still surface of the water. Even from inside, those fathomless depths evoked a chill along his spine, and he turned away with an involuntary shiver.

  No flames danced in the grate, but the fireplace on the right drew him with the idea of warmth. Evidence of a close-knit family abounded in the framed snapshots lined along the mantel, and he studied them with a dull ache in his chest. His adoptive parents were wonderful people, and yet deep down, a small part of him never truly felt he belonged.

  That was part of what brought him from Boston to Boulder. Something about the area spoke to him when he’d visited in the spring, and it had only strengthened once he completed the transfer.

  Footsteps sounded behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder as Ali returned to the living room with two glasses of water. He saw a slight resemblance in her from each of her parents, but the red hair certainly hadn’t come from them, unless her mother dyed her hair blond.

  “You’re an only child,” he stated.

  “Yes. And I was spoiled rotten.”

  Hands in his pockets as he turned, he let his gaze traverse the spacious living room with his eyebrows raised. “Was? With your gated driveway, your own guest house, ornamental pond…”

  Her gaze flitted toward the French doors and the dark circle of water beyond. A visible shudder shook her shoulders as she quickly looked away. When she set their drinks down on the coffee table by the couch, glass rattled against glass.

  He moved closer, concerned about her reaction. “You don’t like the pond?”

  “Bad experience as a child,” she said shortly. “I just don’t go near the water, and I’m fine.”

  “Sorry I brought it up.”