Dweller on the Threshold

by Rinda Elliott

  Whatever it was doing sure agreed with Blythe. She had her head back and those blonde curls of hers were floating in the air again as they had when she’d bound the kids at the shop. I hoped she didn’t lose the binding on the ghoul currently sitting in the bed of the truck.

  “Uh, Nikolos.” I cleared my throat.

  He turned dark eyes my way, faint humor warming those strong masculine features.

  “What kind of place is this?” I shifted on the seat, really getting uncomfortable.

  “Don’t worry. It only does this at first. As soon as you are considered a non-threat, it backs off.”

  I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of being considered a non-threat, but my attention was yanked onto the ghoul as he started thrashing in the bed of the truck. I wondered if the magic hurt him, especially when he screamed and smacked his face into the window. Spit smeared the glass as he grunted and snarled.

  I unbuckled my seatbelt. Just in case. “Blythe, I don’t think your binding spell is holding.”

  The witch started muttering, her small fingers frantically rubbing that yellow stone. She threw a couple of nervous glances over her shoulder as the ghoul pounded his head on the side of the truck bed.

  “Aieeeee!” He screamed and scrambled back to the window. He frantically pounded on the glass. Hair sprouted on his right cheek as his face began that grotesque bubbling we’d watched earlier in Blythe’s shop. “Vile place! Vile women! Your magic stinks of rotting lobsters and piss!”

  I couldn’t help it—I laughed.

  “I am not without my own magic! I will tear you all limb from limb and leave you alive so the bugs can feast upon your pieces!” When he was done with his pitiful threats, he started screaming again at the top of his lungs—right before he punched one fist through the glass.

  “Shit, Blythe!” I reached over the seat and dragged her into the front with us. Her feet smacked the ceiling, Elsa’s too-big sweatshirt flopping over her head to expose her bra. I caught a glimpse of yellow and pink butterflies. I up-righted her in my spot and dove over the seat to smash my fist into the ugly mug the ghoul was squeezing through the broken window.

  Nikolos hit the brakes hard and the truck swerved, nearly slamming into a tree. I flew to the right so my fist barely glanced off the ghoul’s face. All the hair just padded the blow anyway. The magic book bounced off the back seat and crashed into my temple. A piece of broken glass slid into the back of my already-throbbing hand.

  That was about the time the thing lost it. Screams and body slams rattled what was left of the sliding glass window. Wincing at the pain in my ears, I scrambled to get the back door open, planning to go back there and knock him the hell out—but before I could, he lurched out of the bed and half-galloped into the woods.

  I jumped out of the truck and ran after him, yanking out the piece of glass before pushing aside low hanging tree limbs. I leapt over stumps and bushes, staying on his tail. His grunts were loud as he worked his odd, two-legged hoofed-self through rough terrain—almost as loud as those heavy clompers hitting the hard packed earth. Every now and then, he screamed. The sound came from different directions so I knew he was swerving in a ragged path, trying to get away from the magic.

  There was a noise to my left and I glanced over to find Nikolos running with me, his long legs easily keeping pace with my own. “We’re getting close to the highway.”

  We heard the squeal of breaks just as we burst through the thick trees into the open. I bent to catch my breath and watched as the ghoul, surrounded by a swarm of bees, flipped off the driver of a Honda that had nearly plowed him down. He turned slapped at the insects zooming around him then loped with impressive speed to the back of a trash truck. He jumped onto the rear bumper. The stupid creature was still slapping at bees with one arm as the vehicle sped off.

  “Well.” I gasped. “That was weird.”

  Nikolos chuckled and pulled something from my hair. Leaves and few twigs fell from his fingers as he dropped his hand. “The magic didn’t like him.”

  “Actually, I don’t think he liked it.” Humor rumbled in my chest before I snorted. “Rotting lobsters and piss.”

  The grin that lit up Nikolos’s face sobered me pretty fast as it did weird things to my tummy again. He had very white teeth and that wide grin put such a sexy groove along one side of his mouth. I had to curl my hands into fists so I didn’t reach out and trace it. He must have seen something in my eyes because once again, heat flared under my skin—quick and scorching—as he took a step closer.

  I was still breathing hard from the run and I stared up at him, feeling more feminine and desirable than I ever had. I actually eyed how many steps it would take us to get back into the cover of woods where I could throw him to the ground and have my way with him.

  A horn honked loudly and I jumped, turning to find a group of bathing-suit clad teenagers hanging from a Jeep not that different than mine. They hooted and blew us kisses.

  Reality check. Good.

  “Come on, let’s go see if Blythe is still chanting.” I turned, then stopped. I was completely turned around, my sense of direction screwed up from the chase.

  “This way,” Nikolos said as he stepped into the trees.

  Once again the magic touched my skin—wrapped around my arms and legs. He said it wouldn’t last long and as I walked, I thought about the only other time I’d felt something like this.

  Big Cypress Swamp.

  I shuddered with the memory. Then, the magic had started out like this. Pleasant, tingly. Unfortunately, it had turned into something that had made me feel as if I was being twisted inside out.

  “Yoohoo!” Blythe’s blonde head bopped just beyond a stand of coral bean shrubs. I’d always had a fondness for their bright tube-like, red flowers. “Beri!”

  “We’re coming!” I jogged ahead to see why she was yelling.

  “Oh, there you are. Did he get away? I think maybe the magic here ran him off. Isn’t it just the most exquisite thing you’ve ever felt?” She hugged herself, face beaming so much she was nearly blinding. “It’s the most perfect place to cast spells—do healing.” She skipped over the ground, Elsa’s too big sweat suit flopping over her feet and hands as she reached Nikolos. “Have you lived here long? I can’t wait to see your house!”

  “I bought the property from a farmer who had started framing a spring house right over the water. He hadn’t had much luck farming so he hoped to attract tourists.”

  “Wait.” I held up a hand. “You have a natural spring inside the house?”

  He nodded. A lot of his hair had pulled from the tail and was now sliding over his shoulder. It was so dark against that white T-shirt it looked nearly blue.

  “I wanted this property for a reason. Can you guess?”

  “From the power radiating from the place like a nuclear generator, I can only assume it’s a sacred one. Maybe built over a ley line?”

  He nodded. “It is. That old farmer didn’t know what he had here. He just knew it made him and everyone else happy even when it didn’t grow crops. I bought it from him in nineteen hundred and four. I knocked down the frame of the spring house—which wasn’t hard considering the farmer had been an even worse carpenter. But I paid him twice what the property was worth back then. I then bought up all of the property surrounding the place as well. I like my privacy.”

  We reached the truck and he stopped speaking to inspect the damage the ghoul had done to his vehicle. Luckily, there were only a few dents in addition to the broken sliding-glass door. Nikolos reached into the backseat and hefted his books into his arms. “Since there’s glass all over the inside, we’ll walk the rest of the way. It’s not that far.”

  I grunted as I lifted Blythe’s magic book before following him. Surprisingly, my arm and leg were only giving me twinges of pain. Blythe was a better healer than she knew. What she could do here, with access to a ley line, might be worth exploring.

  The property was stunning with its old tree growth and wild Flo
rida flavor. The strangest thing was how quiet it was considering a highway ran less than a mile out. He had nearly every tree native to the state in evidence as well as a few I’d only seen in shorter varieties.

  “Wow, you have a lot of cabbage palms.” I pointed to a heavy cluster of the tall, un-branched trunks topped with the huge, fan like leaves off the driveway. “It’s not often you see so many growing together of that size. Those are the tallest I’ve seen.”

  “They grow slow and I’ve had this property over a hundred years. No one to mess with things.” He pointed to a couple of huge, stunning trees over forty feet tall.

  “You have a male and female.” I smiled and walked over to look up into the tall branches of the Paradise trees, which were still heavy with fruit since we’d just passed Florida’s rainy season. A delicate-looking blue scrub jay was busy feasting on that fruit between belting out some throaty, harsh squawks at me. A bunch of little brown wood thrushes drowned out that rattle with their sweet, trilling song.

  It smelled fresh and very woodsy. When we came upon the house, I was kind of surprised. I’d expected something faintly Spanish after seeing his shop, or at least something along the lines of the Dutch Colonial architecture that was popular around the time he’d bought this property. Instead, we walked up to a massive off-white structure out of the ancient past. I wondered if I was looking at an authentic Minoan style home.

  It stretched wide in the clearing, with heavy rectangular bricks on the corners surrounding rough-edged stone walls. The style was meandering, as if he’d built around existing land masses. Several dark, green leafy trees peeked above the roofline in the back. I couldn’t wait to see the inside, so I picked up the pace. He had built a large front veranda that stretched the width of the house, and the steps and columns looked as if they’d been veneered in alabaster. Side-by-side cherry doors with hand-etched glass designs gave the building a slight contemporary feel, and I couldn’t stop my mouth from dropping open when he opened those doors to the most amazing room.

  Two pillars stood guard in the middle of the room, bearing incised carvings of double axes, stars and identical goddess figures. Colorful snakes had been painted along the bottom of the columns and they rose up to drape an arm of each figurine. There was something around her head and I stepped close to one to get a better look, not able to stop my fingers from running over the smooth carving. Bees. She had bees around her head.

  I swallowed and closed my eyes. If I’d had any doubts that my origin had something to do with Nikolos’s, they were now gone. Bees, the one creature I could easily call to me with nothing more than a low, throaty hum.

  “Of course. The bees.” Phro stood in the center of the room, her chest heaving with fast, hollow-sounding breaths. I blinked. I could hear her breathing—it wasn’t a sound I usually picked up from her. She turned dark blue eyes my way as she did that ghosty thing she did when she was upset right before she blinked out of sight.

  I watched that space for a few seconds, concerned. But she didn’t come back, so I followed Nikolos into a hall.

  “Your home is so beautiful.” Blythe ran her hand over the surface of a long table.

  “Thank you. It’s ridiculously big for just me, but I had my reasons for building it this way at the time. I have a housekeeping crew who come in once a week. They’re the reason the floors are so shiny.”

  There were more antiques and the farther we walked, the stronger the magic felt.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the bees and the figurines with the snakes. It felt like he had images of me in his home, yet I looked nothing like those women. I rubbed one hand over the fast-healing wound on my arm. Something about Nikolos’s home made me sad, yet I couldn’t have explained why if I tried. It was certainly gorgeous.

  As we walked, I noticed Nikolos grew quieter, his shoulders more tense. Some kind of dark emotion rolled off him in waves so I wasn’t surprised when he stopped in the hall at the back of the house and pointed us into a large room. “If you will excuse me a moment, I want to shower and get this dried blood off me. I invite you to make yourselves at home in this room. There are drinks in the refrigerator in the bar. Help yourselves.”

  I gaped at his back as he stalked off, then turned to ask Fred a question, only to find him gone. “Where did Fred go?”

  Blythe shrugged. “He disappears all the time.”

  Sighing, I rubbed my hands over my arms again, feeling goose bumps scouring my skin. I turned a circle, jumping when my gaze landed on Phro’s face as she abruptly appeared right in front of me. She was still kind of translucent. “What’s wrong with you?” I asked her.

  “Beri.” Her voice was low and choked with emotion. “Nikolos built this home to replicate the ones on Aeginea.”

  “I kind of figured. It must have taken him years to do all this. The structure itself is unbelievable. It’s like a private haven.”

  “Beri, you’re not understanding me. The Minoans built their palaces for celebration and family.”

  Something in her tone made me want to sit. I had a glimmer of an idea of where she was taking this.

  “They were such a great people. Full of life and they loved nothing more than having friends and family around them. That’s why the rooms were so big. It was why everything a person needed could be found in each and every home. People were made to feel welcome and their society was advanced enough for everything from easy access to fresh water to working septic systems. They collected art just for the pleasure of it.”

  I nodded. “He’s done the same thing here. Fresh spring, beautiful things everywhere you turn, and he obviously worked hard to make it safe.”

  “There were no defensive walls around their palaces, Beri.”

  I thought about the iron gate we’d passed through to get here. “Times change. This man has lived long and seen horrible things. He’s been in wars, killed… he’s had to adapt to keep up with those time changes.”

  “Yes, but this man built his home for family. Look at it.”

  She was right. This room boasted beautiful stone slabs in the floor with lush, comfortable rugs under every piece of furniture. Stone benches surrounded the walls, covered in cushions, pillows and throws. Different species of palm trees in gorgeous handmade pots gave the room an airy, Florida feel and helped soften the dark wood antique tables and the wall-to-wall bookshelves on the north side of the room. There was a massive walnut armoire that was open, showing a pretty decent television with a plush, L-shaped forest green couch in front. The walls were covered in art from different periods, including a few swords—chipped and obviously old.

  A wingless griffin sat next to the stone fireplace, over which hung a double ax. Different pieces in the room depicted the goddess figure, telling me he probably still worshipped her as his people had so long ago. In fact, one of the paintings on the wall showed two more wingless griffins pulling a chariot with two female deities inside. I’d seen the image before.

  Escorts to the Underworld.

  Even with the weapons, the room pulled me in and made me want to lounge and read or watch a movie. I had to smile at the fridge in the corner. He’d waved toward it earlier with the offer of a drink, but I hadn’t noticed it since he’d painted it with palm trees and a satiny looking golden expanse of sandy beach. Right on the fridge.

  Phro stared at the image of the chariot. “No one other than Nikolos has been here in years.”

  I closed my eyes. A man builds his home for a family yet keeps himself alone. Everything inside me felt cold all of a sudden. This was the source of my earlier discomfort on the tour. This wasn’t a man who chose a solitary life easily.

  I’d forgotten about Blythe. She’d sunk onto one of those stone benches along the wall and was hugging a big, burgundy colored pillow to her chest. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. She sniffed loudly. “It feels lonely here.”

  “Did you notice he didn’t take us to his private rooms?” Phro tapped one long, black fingernail on her teeth.

/>   I shrugged because I understood trust issues when it came to personal space. Never really having any of my own growing up had made me private, too. But understanding and needing to know more about the man made me once again set aside my own feelings. “I don’t suppose you or Fred would check on Nikolos and see if he’s settling in for that shower?”

  Phro grinned. “Planning to snoop again?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  Her grin faded and she shrugged before gliding from the room. I don’t know why she didn’t just blink into his bathroom. But she did return fast. “He’ll be a few minutes. Hurry. We’ll warn you when he’s coming back.”

  I’d much rather snoop his private area without him in the house, but someone with his kind of security probably took eons of time to warm to a person. He’d probably never leave me alone here. Phro’s expression had me curious. She wanted me to snoop for some reason. Wanted me to see something.

  I hurried toward the only hallway we hadn’t been down and crept along the walls, making sure to take light steps since tile covered every square inch of floor. Inspecting his bedroom when he could step out of his shower at any minute was probably not the best idea.

  The hallway was wide, which was pretty nice. Left room for a few small wall tables and a couple of statues. Not a one of the female figurines had clothes on. I saw a repeat pattern of the snakes and bees, and again this made my stomach flip-flop. There were a bunch of doors down this hall and I started at the end, peeking into one room to find a massive four-poster bed, unmade with navy blue silky-looking sheets and a thick, white down comforter. Shower sounds came from an open doorway in the corner, so I quickly backed out and went into the one room that looked as if no one had been in it in years. There was a fine layer of dust coming from under the door.