Mystical Love

by Rachel James

  Her hackles rose instantly, as Adrian hoped they would. They were treading on dangerous ground with their talk of kissing. He had to swing their thoughts to a safer subject. Her tears and anger he could handle. But her prying into his motives for not kissing Lisette? No, he wasn’t willing to discuss that with her yet.

  She pushed a section of her hair back across her shoulders with an impatient flick and gave him a cool stare.

  “Very clever, Adrian. You knew calling me Miss Kelly in that condescending way would divert my mind from Lisette. You don’t want to talk about what just happened, do you?” Adrian hedged, looking off into the shadows. “Do you?” She pushed him now, defiance written in her tone as well as a subtle challenge. Adrian wished he could pretend not to understand her look. Her mouth curved in faint amusement suddenly.

  “My God, she rattled you. Big, strong Adrian rattled by a ghost. It’s priceless.”

  Adrian’s lips puckered in annoyance at her obvious glee.

  “Don’t gloat, it’s unbecoming.” He swung his hand out, groping for her shoulder. “How about helping me to my feet? My leg has one hell of a cramp in it.”

  She scrambled up instantly, grabbing Adrian’s arm and hauling him up behind her. Adrian staggered once, caught his balance and then hobbled in a small circle to work out the kink.

  “Thank you, Adrian.”

  He looked up from his shuffle.

  “For what? Not kissing you?”

  “That and for not abandoning my mind to Lisette.”

  Adrian flexed his knee.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You may, before long, wish I had kissed you. We aren’t out of danger.”

  “No. And now we’re facing a second spirit’s will as well. Any suggestions as to how we end this nightmare before it reaches the point of no return?”

  Adrian eyed her suspiciously.

  “We both have a pretty good idea where this entrapment is leading and where it will end. We both know, though we pretend to each other we don’t. Lisette’s intentions are getting clearer by the minute.”

  “What we’re thinking is preposterous. A person can’t be forced to commit an act against their will. I’ve seen it proven time and time again with patients under hypnosis. You can’t make them do anything that is abhorrent to their basic, moral structure, no matter how hard you press.”

  Her confident tone impressed Adrian.

  “I hope that proves true in this case because I don’t remember a damn thing during those minutes you claim I was the baron. And as for you, I could have made love to you ten times over and you wouldn’t have known it. Your body was in my arms but your mind was gone.” Adrian saw her shudder at the remembrance.

  “We have to talk to Lloyd immediately. He works with psychic minds all the time. He may know how to combat this. There has to be a way to keep our consciousness from being manipulated so easily.”

  Adrian didn’t feel compelled to agree out loud, instead, he took Janice’s elbow and nudged her forward.

  “Let’s go find the others. I don’t relish the thought of reliving the last five minutes, do you?”

  Her grim expression was answer enough for him. Gripping her elbow more firmly, he pulled her along behind him. Six steps later, she yanked away from him and swung about.

  “Wait, my compass.”

  She back-tracked their steps and dropped to the floor in search of the fallen cylinder. Adrian gritted his teeth. She was actually delaying their departure over a dropped compass.

  “Forget the compass, Janice,” he called sharply. Her hands swept in a wider arc, ignoring him.

  “No. It means too much to me. It was a gift.”

  From Anna. Adrian’s head finished the sentence, then danced on. Anna meant everything to Janice, and Anna was dead. It wasn’t the compass Janice feared losing. It was the memories the compass kept alive. Still, he couldn’t let her jeopardize their lives this way. Bending down, Adrian stopped Janice’s arm in mid-motion.

  “Dammit, Janice, forget the compass. We’ll come back for it later with the others.”

  “I’m not going without it.”

  She jerked free of his grasp and skimmed the wood at a much more frantic pace. Watching her frenetic fingers, Adrian felt a glimmer of anger surface. Of all the stupid … no compass could be more important than her life. Hadn’t she just learned that lesson?

  Losing patience, Adrian bent down and hauled Janice to her feet.

  “I said, forget the god-dammed compass!”

  She gave him an odd stare, and Adrian had the strangest feeling he had impressed her in some way. He had no time to quiz her on it before a vicious shove propelled him sideways and away from her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Adrian?”

  Adrian stumbled back, stunned by Lloyd’s assault. What in the hell did he think Adrian was doing? He was protecting Janice, that’s what. He had no further time to speculate as the rest of the group spilled into the room and rushed their way. Ginger reached him first, slipping her arm into his and laying her cheek against his sleeve.

  “Thank God we found you, Adrian. Jasper’s been acting like a crazed man for the last five minutes. He’s tapped into something — I don’t remember what he called it — but it’s made him, well, not at all Christian.”

  She shivered and Adrian realized she had good reason to be scared. Jasper’s sudden touch on his sleeve derailed his thoughts.

  “Time slip. Someone’s coming over.”

  Adrian tensed at once.

  “Lisette?”

  Jasper gave a quick shake of his head.

  “No. Someone else.”

  Adrian pushed Ginger toward Muriel’s plump form.

  “Go stand with Muriel. I don’t have time to explain.” Ginger left his arms into Muriel’s protective embrace and Adrian swung his gaze to Jasper. “I think you’re about to be introduced to the Baron Dumas,” he stated.

  The air stirred briefly and each member of the group glanced overhead. Adrian’s glance dropped to Janice, who was staring at him with a look of pure horror on her face. He shook his head.

  “Relax. It’s the baron.”

  But if anything, she looked more alarmed by his words. Adrian turned to Jasper. He didn’t know how much time he had before the baron’s appearance. But he was sure that once he lost consciousness, he’d be of no help to anyone. He surveyed Jasper’s face as intently as Jasper was surveying the crossbeams around them.

  “Anything?” he prodded.

  Jasper’s gaze never wavered from the crossbeams.

  “Thirty seconds. Maybe forty.”

  Adrian’s stomach lurched.

  “Whatever happens, keep me away from Janice. It’s in her best interest.”

  Jasper held up a warning finger.

  “It isn’t the baron,” he remarked.

  “What!”

  Adrian’s hand sliced through his hair with blurring speed. A raised finger silenced him again.

  “Three, two, one … ”

  His voice drifted off precisely the moment a series of purple sparkles drifted from the wood beam. The sparkles swirled erratically at first, no vague shape or discernible form, and then a hideous putrid stench assailed the room. The last of the sparkles shot from the beam with a burst and the cloud reshaped itself into one big scribble of pulsing lights.

  A hand gripped Adrian’s shirtsleeve and he jumped, startled by the unexpected touch.

  “Sorry,” Janice stated with a shiver. “I had to touch something real.”

  Adrian knew what she meant. The room and stench now resembled something out of a late-night sci-fi movie.

  A fiendish laugh suddenly swept from the cloud like rumbling phlegm. It shot over their heads and bounced off the walls, growing in pitch and inte
nsity.

  “God damn, what is that?”

  The question came from Adrian’s left, but he didn’t have time to offer a guess. The cloud intensified its crackling, festering like the hiss of a broom on wet cement. The laugh turned darker, as if feeding off the group’s agitation and its pulsing lights turned a darker, richer purple. The laugh then went sour, becoming a malicious, hideous sound.

  “God damn, what is that?” Lloyd asked again and Adrian heard the panic in the question. Again, Adrian didn’t answer. He didn’t think Lloyd would like the answer he supplied.

  The cloud ripped apart suddenly, relieving itself of objects like the muted crack of icicles. Before they knew it, the floor in front of them was littered with a myriad of books and trinkets. The laugh hooted wildly again, shooting by them and evaporating back into the cloud with a sizzling whistle. The dazzling blur crackled once, twice more, and then vanished back into the crossbeams as if sucked through a vortex.

  The group stood in their stunned huddle, no one having the courage to break the unease that had been left behind. Then Adrian seized the moment. With a quick intake of breath, he dropped to his knees and riffled through the objects. His action galvanized the group out of their stupors.

  “What is it, Adrian?” Ginger queried, peering over his shoulder curiously.

  Adrian picked up a round cylinder, offering it to Janice.

  “Your compass, I believe.”

  She took it from him, turning it over in her palm.

  “But how?”

  Her words trailed off as Adrian picked up a second round object and offered it to Muriel.

  “Your wedding ring, Muriel.”

  She took it from him, just as confused by its appearance.

  “You were going to use it for the rehearsal,” she reminded.

  Adrian met her curious stare.

  “Actually I had it in my shirt lining only five minutes ago.”

  Muriel didn’t comment, merely slipped it on to her finger once more and stepped closer to Jasper’s side.

  “But, what does this all mean, Adrian?” Ginger insisted. “What is Lisette trying to tell us?”

  Instead of answering, Adrian picked up a book and handed it to Jasper, who dropped to his haunches inspecting the treasure. He began to thumb through the book casually.

  “Looks like a ship’s log. Old as hell, but maybe readable.”

  “From the baron,” Janice supplied, leaning down to inspect the book. “He’s aiding us in our search.”

  “And this is Lisette’s diary,” Lloyd stated, picking up a second journal. A glazed, faraway look entered his eyes. “I’ve always sensed she kept a diary. Never could find it among the books, though.”

  “Is this your ring, Adrian?” Ginger asked, holding a large ring out to him. Adrian scanned its markings and then shook his head.

  “Could it be the baron’s?” Muriel asked, curiously.

  “It could be … ” He broke off. Could the ring belong to a third spirit? A spirit with a laugh that spoke of dreaded things? “Perhaps it belongs to Lisette’s murderer,” he commented as if the answer was obvious.

  “Three spirits,” Jasper said, spacing the words evenly.

  “We can’t fight three spirits at the same time, can we?”

  Ginger’s question had them all staring at the ring Adrian held between his fingers as if it were a crystal ball. When it remained silent, offering no verbal communication, Adrian chuckled.

  “If wishes were horses … ” he stated, wryly.

  The group laughed and the sound ignited a strange ballet in Adrian’s head. One that housed a bizarre twist of fate. Were they about to relive that fateful day three hundred years ago? If he were Aubert and Janice was Lisette, that meant one member of the remaining group was to be the murderer. He felt Ginger’s fingers on his shoulder and he shook his head, stalling her question.

  “No, I don’t know what lies ahead, but my guess is we’ll soon find out.” He scanned each face in turn. “From here on out, none of us stays alone. Agreed?” Each head dipped in agreement. Exhaling, he slipped the ring back into his shirt lining. “Good. Now let’s get the hell out of here and find a more suitable place to study our treasures.”

  They each scooped up one of the scattered items and headed for the door, Lloyd first, Ginger next. Reaching the door, Adrian paused, letting Muriel and Jasper go through ahead of him and then noticing Janice’s lagging gait, he waited for her. His eyebrow raised in surprise when she stopped by his side instead of exiting.

  “Problem?”

  “I had a horrible thought a moment ago.”

  Adrian let his lips twitch slightly.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “What if we’re about to relive the murder?”

  Her intuition was so disturbingly like his own, it unnerved Adrian. It was time to divert their minds again with his special brand of sarcasm.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, Miss Kelly, but I sense that if you were given the choice between making love to me and seeing me murdered and mutilated, you’d choose the latter.”

  “God, what a horrid thing to say! I don’t want you dead.”

  “How encouraging. And to think that only a few hours ago I dismissed you as a cold and sexless kewpie doll.”

  Her lips twitched and then she laughed outright. Satisfaction pursed his mouth as she taunted.

  “Would it be considered absolutely diabolical if I saved the ghosts the trouble and killed you myself?”

  Adrian answered with a mock bow before he signaled her out. She slipped past him in a flash and he grinned appreciatively. He had been right not to kiss her. Now, there was a tangible bond between them that would be hard to break. Awareness, invitation, acceptance, all in a few seconds. The knowledge sent a surge of blood scurrying along his pulse and a rush of adrenalin to his legs. Quickly, they hurried to catch up with the disappearing group.

  Chapter 15

  SATURDAY — 2:15 AM

  Janice knew by her shaking hands that she was coming unglued at last. Why now when she was safely ensconced with the others? Because now she was grounded to reality again and could feel the overwhelming fears burning in the pit of her stomach. She raised her head to study the speckled green wallpaper surrounding the dressing table. It should be reassuring to recognize a chair as a chair and a table as a table. To distinguish colors. Why wasn’t it? She knew the answer to that, too. Her mind had been stripped from her too easily. Sent to some empty hole to exist alone in an alternate dimension and she hadn’t been able to stop it from happening.

  Janice studied her reflection in the mirror. She had been lucky. She could’ve been left in that void if Adrian hadn’t grounded her. Shivering, she dismissed the thought. Better not to think of Adrian, either. Leaning forward, she studied the green eyes reflected in the glass before her. Was she looking at the face of a woman who had undergone some kind of mad rebirth? Yes. In just a short twinkling of time, a transformation had occurred deep within her. She had traded places with another’s soul, experienced that soul’s life essence in a momentary flash, and had been thrust back into her own life, lucky enough to come away unscathed. Or at least partly unscathed.

  Somewhere in the exchange with Lisette, Janice gained a new power. She had become empathic. There was no other word to describe it. Nothing else explained her heightened sense of awareness of space and time and things. Colors were brighter, voices were louder, matter seemed more real. Even now, through the open double doors, she could easily identify the murmurs of her companions. She could feel their movement, even their lack of it. What did it all mean?

  Janice ran a finger along the rim of her lower eyelid. Surely she had aged decades in the last sixty minutes. Where were the lines? And where was her courage? It had suddenly gone underground. With a moan of distress, she presse
d her hands over her flushed cheeks.

  “Here, drink this,” came a husky voice, “it’s only soda but it tastes heavenly.”

  The words drifted to Janice’s consciousness, followed by a cool wetness on the back of her right hand. She clutched the sweating glass, forcing herself to settle down. She took a deep breath, punctuated with several even gasps.

  “You’re a peach, Ginger,” she applauded between gasps, “I’m tired, but most of all, I’m hungry and thirsty.”

  “I’ve got just the thing,” Muriel remarked from the doorway. “I’ve fixed us some sandwiches.”

  She bustled over the threshold, silver tray in hand, and Janice spun around on her stool. Food. She was starved. Not waiting for the tray to be set down, she scooped several of the sliced sandwiches as Muriel passed.

  “I could eat a bear,” she declared, popping the first morsel into her mouth. She chewed it with relish.

  “Bear is not on the menu, I’m afraid,” Muriel teased, dropping into the print wingback and setting the tray on the footstool between them. Like Janice, she popped the morsel of a sandwich into her mouth and savored its taste. “One thing about ghost hunting,” she remarked, “it creates an astounding appetite.”

  “Don’t tell me the men are munching on finger sandwiches,” Janice exclaimed. She slipped a second wedge, this time egg salad, into her mouth.

  “Those overgrown clods! They’re devouring giant double-decker sandwiches and it is NOT a pretty sight!”

  Janice took a second sip of Coke and gave Muriel a bemused smile.

  “You’re sounding chipper, Muriel.”

  “I’m positively glowing,” she replied, “such mystery and intrigue!”

  “You can’t mean you’re enjoying all this?” Ginger interrupted, shocked, her hand hovering over a tuna salad slice. “No one could possibly enjoy this insane captivity.”

  “It’s not a matter of enjoying it, Ginger. It’s a matter of accepting the situation and adjusting to it. Once you do that, victory is possible.”

  Janice wagged her head in agreement.

  “You’re right. We’ve got to accept the problem and confront it.”