by Ann Gimpel
Fuming—and scared shitless—she followed him into the house, but turned hard left before she hit the kitchen and took what had once been the servants’ staircase. It had been stupid to fall for Tyler, one of the dumbest things she’d ever done, but there was no going back. She couldn’t unravel time and choose not to tumble into his arms and his bed. That part was a done deal. If she listened to him, his residency at chéz Eleanora was a done deal as well.
Shit!
Worry for her mother filled her, obliterating her fears for her own safety. Eleanora Ceobbinn was—or had been—a well-known psychic, but she’d apparently made one too many trips to the far side of the veil. She was still alive, but she hadn’t spoken a word in nearly a year, rattling around their old house like a ghost.
Eleanora came from money—and made plenty on her own—so at least that wasn’t a problem, but her mother was definitely fading. It was almost as if someone—Tyler?—was feeding off what little energy she had left. Unable to shake her earlier sense of foreboding, Cassie shivered. If she hadn’t been holding onto her purse and computer bag, she would’ve wrapped her arms around herself.
Maybe because she was thinking about her mother—and the house had a mind of its own—she wasn’t surprised to find herself beneath a full-sized oil painting of Eleanora. Lush dark hair ended at knee level, and her haunting violet eyes seemed alive. People had told Cassie she looked like her mom, but she’d never thought so. Eleanora was beautiful—and ageless. Cassie had the hair and the eyes and the striking six foot height, but the effect wasn’t nearly the same.
She still had no idea what went wrong the day her mother checked out. She’d come home from work to find Eleanora sprawled face down on the Oriental carpet in the séance room, candles smoking black gouts of greasy flame. If there’d been clients, they were nowhere to be found.
Her mother had regained consciousness, but that was about all. Cassie knew better than to lug her around to a bunch of doctors with their uncomfortable questions and pained silences after the first one asked, “Your mother does what for a living?”
Cassie dragged herself away from the portrait. When she was a little girl, she’d believed her mother’s painted eyes held the gateway to a magical world. When she asked Eleanora if the painting led to fairyland, her mother gifted her with a warm smile and said, “Stranger things have happened, child. It’s best not to test this one.”
Cassie pulled a key out of her bag, unlocked her bedroom door, and then used the voice activated electronics she’d designed to spring the second lock. She was almost positive Tyler was stealing from her, but that wasn’t why she kept her door locked. Even the marginally gifted could wreak havoc if they got hold of your things. Her father, Francis Statton Braxbury, a British seer, taught her that before his visits to Eleanora petered out.
Cassie locked the door behind her and tossed her things onto a chair. She kicked off her high heels and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her sore arches. This thing with Tyler was way out of control.
He fell into her life right before her mother’s accident. He’d been an ardent lover, and ever so solicitous about her mother. Cassie was pathetically grateful she wasn’t alone dealing with Eleanora. Couple that with being lost in the first flush of sex with a new man, and she wasn’t as on top of things as usual. By the time she realized it was a shade too convenient Tyler was in the right place at the right time to snap up all her mother’s clients, he’d moved in.
That was almost a year ago. Tyler dropped any pretense of a relationship with her after the first few months, but he’d been marginally friendly—even polite—until recently. She shook her head, trying to figure out what changed. It was useful to have him help watch Eleanora, which was why she hadn’t tried harder to get rid of him.
Most of her non-Eleanora time was devoted to developing an electronic version of the Ouija Board because she hoped it would be a way to reach her mother. Usually her circuitry was spot on, but for some reason this project had dragged on for months, dogged by one setback after another. Everything she’d learned getting her degree in electrical engineering didn’t apply to her current project. She was still stuck on the basic circuit board strategy. Until that was successful, there wasn’t much point in designing software or hunting for a microprocessor.
Speaking of which, I need to hunt for Mother.
Cassie got to her feet, stuffing them into slippers before heading into the hall. She glanced around nervously before locking her door. Tyler had moved into the guest suite at the north end of the ground floor, but the mood he was in, it paid to be vigilant.
Mrroww.
Hector, Eleanora’s large, black tomcat, landed lightly not ten feet from her, his tail pluming as it swished back and forth.
Cassie jumped. “Awk! Where’d you come from?” She bent to scratch his head. The cat arched his back in pleasure. “Do you know where Mother is?”
Mrroww. Swish, swish.
“I take it that’s a no.” She turned a wall dial. Crystal sconces lining the long hallway brightened. Polished hardwood with Aubusson runners stretched before her. Leaded glass panes lined the hall. Priceless paintings graced the walls at intervals, interspersed with elegant bronze sculptures. Cassie checked her mother’s bedroom. Empty. Eleanora’s wonderful, earthy scent lingered. It made her sad. If ever she needed one of her parents, it was now.
I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m twenty-five, for God's sake. Time to fight my own battles.
Not finding Eleanora anywhere on the second floor, Cassie mounted the stairs to the third. Faint chanting drifted from downstairs, and she wondered whose dead relative was on the hook tonight. She believed in the spirit world, and she’d always trusted Eleanora to hold the gates. Her faith in Tyler’s ability to do the same was pretty truncated.
Oh my God. Is that how he’s planning to hurt me? By proxy?
Her heart slammed against her chest. It was hard to breathe around the thickening in her throat. Some spirits could do a lot of damage, mostly through suffocation or running people off cliffs…
“Stop it.” She spoke out loud to get a grip on what was starting to feel like out-of-control panic. “Find Mom. Make sure she’s okay.” It did occur to her that if Eleanora were truly missing, it would give her the perfect excuse to clear out all the New Agers at the séance and call the police.
There were seven bedrooms on the third floor. Eleanora stood in the one at the far end of the hall, staring out its large windows into the night. Cassie left the bedroom lights off. Enough illumination filtered in from the hall that was twin to the one on the floor below.
“Mother?” She crept forward and laid a hand on Eleanora’s arm.
Her mother flinched and shook her off.
Cassie’s eyes flooded. Even though her mother wasn’t really rejecting her, it still hurt. Especially now that she felt so alone and vulnerable.
Mrroww.
Cassie looked around. Hector sat in the doorway, his ears pricked forward. She didn’t realize he’d followed her.
Eleanora turned and walked to the cat. Maybe his non-human frequency was easier for her to respond to. He twined himself around her legs, purring for all he was worth. She reached down and petted him and then drifted into the hall like a sleepwalker. Cassie thought about trying to talk to her again, but gave it up for wasted effort. Either her mother couldn’t hear her, or she couldn’t answer.
Dressed all in black, as always, Eleanora’s skirts swirled around her. Cassie followed her back to the second floor and breathed a sigh of relief when her mother went into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. The snick of the deadbolt was loud in the silence of the hall.
Mrroww. Hector’s tail swished faster. He looked annoyed. The cat lifted a paw and left a long scratch in the wood next to Eleanora’s door.
“It’s okay. You can sleep with me.”
Cassie strode the few feet to her own room and unlocked the door. Hector raced inside. Who knew? Maybe the séance made him jus
t as uncomfortable as it made her. The rise and fall of voices from below hadn’t abated. She pulled the door shut and secured it, wishing she’d inherited some sort of magical ability. Almost anything would be helpful. Telepathy to read Tyler’s mind. Clairvoyance to peek into the future. Medium skills to raise spirits to protect herself—or harm him.
She walked briskly across the room and pawed through a bottom drawer, coming up with a dog-eared card. It was one of the last birthday cards her father had given her before he declared her too old for such nonsense. She dug a small, flat crystal out of the envelope. Her father said if she ever needed him to hold the crystal in her hand and think of him. He’d told her to plan ahead because results wouldn’t be immediate, and she might have to do it more than once.
Cassie stared at the clear stone with amber flecks deep inside. She set it down, unzipped her black wool skirt, and let it pool around her feet. Her green cashmere sweater came next. She carted them to her closet where she hunted down hangers. Grabbing purple sweats off the floor, she pulled them on and returned to the table where she left the crystal. Her hand hovered over it before she picked it up again.
What about fighting my own battles?
To hell with that. What about being so stubborn I end up dead?
Hector jumped onto the bed and proceeded to groom himself. She flopped down next to him and kicked off her slippers. She didn’t want to bother her father in London unnecessarily—cripes, she hadn’t seen him since she was ten—but the animosity from Tyler scared her. A lot.
I need help, but it’s not fair to involve anyone else.
Cassie blew out a tense breath. Her magical heritage had been quite effective sealing her off from casual friendships. She’d always been afraid something would slip, and the person would think she was crazy.
Rubbing her temples—the headache pounded behind both eyes now—she considered involving the police. Even if she got them to chase Tyler off, unless she hired a bodyguard, he’d probably worm his way back into the house. And then he might kill her, as retribution for calling in the law.
Tyler had a pretty sweet deal. One he planned to hang on to. He’d made that abundantly clear in the garage. Why the hell had it taken her so long to figure out how toxic he was? Feeling like a gullible idiot, and a weak one at that, she let the stone warm in her hand and thought of her father.
Cassie didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until her standard ringtone—“Ode to Joy”—sounded from the depths of her shoulder bag. Staggering muzzily across the room, she located the phone and punched answer without focusing on the display.
“Cass?”
Her eyes widened. “Jeremy? What time is it?”
“Past midnight. Sorry to wake you, but it’s important.”
She picked her way back to the bed, cursing when she stepped on one of the high heels she’d discarded earlier.
“Are you all right?” He sounded worried.
“Uh, yeah. Just stepped on something sharp. Give me a second to get back under the covers. It’s cold in here.” She pulled the duvet up to her chin. “Okay, all set. What’s up?”
“I just got this feeling…” His voice trailed off.
Cassie sat up straighter in bed, not feeling at all sleepy anymore. Something in her friend’s voice was…unsettling. Jeremy was almost her only friend; she’d known him forever. Psychic like her mother, he definitely marched to his own drummer.
“Whatever it is, just spit it out. Sometimes it’s easier that way.”
A sigh rattled through the cellular network. “It’s hard to explain, but I felt something…dark and thought you were in danger.”
Cassie sucked in a breath. For the briefest of moments she considered telling him everything but reined herself in. No point in getting Jeremy riled up about Tyler’s threats. This wasn’t his problem. Besides, she was embarrassed about fessing up to her own stupidity.
Yeah, I was so desperate for a guy to want me, I didn’t read the fine print.
“Cass? You’re pretty silent over there. It’s not making me feel any better.”
“Huh? Oh.” She forced a light laugh. “Tyler held a séance earlier, but I’m sure they’ve mostly left by now. I could go look—”
“No!” The single word thundered in her ear.
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to shout.”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat. “I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. Promise me you’ll stay in your room until daylight.”
“Sure.” Confusion and an uneasy sensation made her feel ill.
“Call me tomorrow.”
The sick feeling didn’t get any better. Jeremy had never felt the need to check on her before. “I’m spending all day working on e-Ouija.”
“Okay, I’ll call you then. Sleep well, Cassie. Sorry to wake you.”
“Jeremy?”
He wasn’t there. To her surprise, she could barely keep her eyes open. Then she realized he’d probably cast a spell to make sure she stayed in her room.
Damn it.
Last thing I need in my life is two meddling men using magic to control me.
~~~~~~~~~~
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