by Rachel James
Janice felt her eyes watering and then a glaze seemed to come down around her brimming eyes. Now someone was probing her very soul, the invasion arousing fear and uncertainty. She felt a sudden nervousness slip back to grip her. Something disturbing was about to happen, but what?
A sharp pain ripped across her forehead and her knees buckled under the assault. Unable to catch herself, she hit the floor with a wrenching crack to her knees and right wrist. A sizzling fire shot up her right forearm. Broken! The word echoed and re-echoed in her mind, but for some reason Janice couldn’t place it, connect it to any other word she knew. What was broken? She should know. Why didn’t she know? Why wouldn’t the probing go away? She’d will it away.
Throwing her head back, Janice tossed her hair across her shoulder in a gesture of defiance. The action brought doubled pain and instant understanding. Her left hand flew to her right, cradling it gently. She had broken her wrist. Sucking in her lower lip, she braced herself against the throbbing pain. Get out! Get help! The words reverberated over and over, taunting her mind. Get out! Get help!
Janice twisted her head, searching for the nearest exit. Get help? But from where? And from whom? She couldn’t see a door and didn’t know where to look. Distressed, she choked back a frustrated cry and tried to concentrate. There had to be a doorway out of this nightmare. Oh, why couldn’t she think straight? Or see the room clearly? Why were the walls shimmering as if they were alive?
Suddenly, it struck her. They were alive. She wasn’t hallucinating. The atrium walls were beginning to crinkle and fold in on themselves. What a wonderful illusion. She knew a man once who did illusions, didn’t she? Who was he? Oh, why couldn’t she remember his name!
Mesmerized, she continued to contemplate the receding walls. They were dimming, growing smaller, leaving behind a current of air that tickled her nose and fanned the ends of her hair. She was moving, but not moving. How wonderful. The atrium walls receded to a tiny pinpoint, finally replaced by an orange glow, then a purple, then a green and then back to the band of bright orange again.
Watching the colorful pinwheel, Janice suddenly felt a burning sensation in her chest, as if her lungs were being snatched from their cavity. She attempted to raise a hand to the area in self-defense but found her brain and arms malfunctioning. She was slipping away — stalked by a sparkle of lights that had appeared inches away from her knees. Dizzy. The colored lights were spinning toward her, making her dizzy. Time slip! She was time slipping. But to where?
The air around her colored to a cobalt blue and Janice felt her mind reel in confusion as jumbled phrases and thoughts tumbled through her head. She was going back in time. Sarah! She was going to see Sarah. Happiness. Joy. No, Anna. She was going to see Anna. Sadness. Despair. No, Aubert. She was going to see Aubert. Elation. Relief.
Janice tried to stop swimming through the haze of feelings and desires, tormented by the conflicting emotions pummeling her senses. Why was her own loneliness clawing at the back of her throat to get out? Silence. She waited. No sound emerged, just a well of tears that spilled over, moistening her eyelashes and staining her cheeks.
And then the pinwheel started again. One hundred years. Two hundred years. She was dying. Janice felt a wretchedness of mind she’d never known before. She was going to die. Like Lisette before her. Like Anna. Like Mama. Death was stalking her, like a black plague devoid of hope. The thought so depressed her, she flung out her hands pleading for mercy. This time her arms responded, galvanized by a suddenly functioning brain.
“Don’t do this to me!”
At her plea, the color wheel ceased and the air around her stabilized. Pungent sea air invaded Janice’s nose and she felt her mind connect to another’s. Her pain subsided at once and its disappearance scared her almost as much as the darkness she was now kneeling in. No, correction, not total darkness.
Janice lifted her head, Lisette’s head, and peeped through the square holes of an iron grate to a blazing blue cobalt sky. In the distance, white cloth flapped in the breeze, blocking out the sunlight. Janice heard a ship’s bell toll off to her left. Now, Janice felt — Lisette felt — the rocking motion of the ship. She had been time slipped three hundred years by Lisette. She could feel her presence. Feel her emotions of fright.
Janice focused her mind closer to Lisette’s and was startled at how easily the merge was accomplished. In a flickering, their minds collided and held. Janice saw what she saw, knew what she knew, felt the strange wetness around her knees.
Janice glanced down. Tidewater was seeping into the crawlspace. She was below deck, a long expanse of bulkhead only inches from the top of her head. The space was small and cramped, barely room for one. Yet there were two heartbeats pounding in her ear. Hers and Lisette’s? No. Janice’s pulse skittered in alarm. Off to her left side, she could hear a muffled boyish moan. Chase? Janice refused to look over, confirm her fears. Instead, she reached up Lisette’s hand and felt the brittle crack of weathered wood. And then she heard the soft, snapping sounds of the white sails in the breeze and looked out the grated iron holes again.
Two human shapes stood peering down the holes at her, at Lisette. The woman was vividly beautiful, dark and voluptuous, dressed in a rich, scanty evening dress. A wealth of jet black hair flowed up and back from a center part. In the glare of the dazzling sunlight, the woman broadcasted a regal certainty and flair.
The man beside her was magnificent, on the tall side of six feet. Janice could see the glimmer of gold buttons along the front of his uniform. Lieutenant Arthur, the first mate. His adjutant posture and bushy mustache bespoke a rakish nature. For the moment, he was relaxed, fingering a loose tendril of hair on the woman’s cheek. What was her name again?
To Janice’s astonishment, to Lisette’s astonishment, the man wrapped his fingers around the dark fabric of the woman’s sleeve and then slipped his fingers beneath the shoulder strap. The material slipped away at once, exposing one full, rounded breast. Gently, the man’s palm caressed and circled the dusky nipple, teasing it to a pebble hardness. The woman remained impassive, ignoring the lightly stroking fingers. She looked past the man’s head to meet Janice’s stare head-on. Janice recognized the dangerous, crazed glitter as the woman murmured harshly.
“You’ll never be a baroness, Izzy. I’ll see to that. You’ll never know the fire of Aubert’s touch. You’ll never hear the ragged whimpers of sheer need escape his lips.” A soft gasp of her own departed the woman’s lips as a tousled head buried itself against her breast.
Janice looked away instantly, wishing she could flee. She shouldn’t be watching, didn’t want to watch. Lisette called her mind back and Janice found herself staring out the grated holes once more into sneering eyes.
“Aubert should’ve been mine, Izzy. You know that. My blood is bluer than yours. You’ll never feel the sensual heat of his naked skin. Never feel the eager tremors of ecstasy with him.” Abruptly, she gripped the tousled head at her breast and ran her fingers through dark locks. Janice felt herself reaching up.
“Save the boy, Simone. If you must kill me, me tuer. But save the boy.”
Janice’s hand snaked to her left and collided with cold flesh. A muttered groan responded to the touch. Adrian? Janice ripped her mind away. No, not Adrian, Chase. The baron’s younger brother, Chase. Janice peered up again through Lisette’s eyes, out at Simone Villashay, her once best friend.
“Aubert will never marry you, Simone.” Janice heard herself murmuring. “He gave his pledge to the king. Only the king can sever the betrothal.”
Simone stiffened at the words and tossed the man suckling her breast away. She bent down giving a snarl, forgetting her half-dressed state. Janice drew back, frightened by the vehement glitter in her eyes. The iron grate above her rattled on it hinges as Simone shook it fiercely.
“I was going to kill you fast, Izzy. But now I think I’ll do it trés lentement
. Very, very slowly.”
Janice heard the murderous edge to Simone’s voice as she stood up and signaled to her companion. A knot of sheer terror ripped through Janice. Lisette knew what was coming, while, she Janice, was living through it for the first time. She looked beyond the holes to the bright sky. Mother of Mercy, if there is a God, please help me. I don’t want to die. Janice’s eyes found Simone again. She was hauling her evening dress up, hiding her nakedness. Once more, Janice saw her signal to the man beside her.
“Seal the grate. Slide the trapdoor.”
Janice’s body went rigid and for a moment she thought she had stopped breathing. Above her head, the trapdoor clanged shut and a cold darkness enveloped the space. The air stilled and a wave of grayness washed over Janice, over Lisette. Death was coming. Janice threw back her head, her own scream echoing Lisette’s guttural cry of terror.
As if cued, Janice felt the roaring of blood in her ears and thousands of electric jolts jagged through her. She was slipping again. One day, two days. Janice felt herself coughing. Her thoughts tumbled over themselves, jumbled, nonsensical. Hungry, so hungry. Three days. Four days. Somebody please find me! Five days. Empty limbs, cold numbness, smell of low tide and crawling things. Oh, God, please stop the smell of crawling things!
Janice’s prayer mingled with Lisette’s. Please release my mind. I can’t die like this. Please don’t let me die like this. Dying was glorious peace. Anna said so. No pain, no fear. Give up. No use. Janice felt her mind connect again to Lisette’s despair. No use. Janice’s eyes flickered upward. Trapdoor sealed.
Her eyes fluttered down again. Her mind began to float and drift aimlessly. Is this all there is to dying? Janice wondered. It is a great ache, an ache that crosses great distances but finds no relief. Is there no merciful God to take pity?
A loud click sounded and the trapdoor over Janice’s head lifted. Janice’s eyes shot open. The iron bars were gone, a dazzling white light spiraling outward in its place. Janice dragged a weary hand to shade her eyes from the overpowering glare.
“Give me your hand, Izzy. I am here.” The voice was deep, caring. It called softly again. “Je suis ici.”
Janice dropped her hands and stared into the white light. She saw it more clearly without a glare. It had a vague, male human shape, a vague human hand reaching out. Janice reached out for the hand and felt her mind pulled back at once. In her head, a voice urged pleasantly.
“Non, Janice Kelly. You cannot travel this path with me. You must stay behind. And sleep. Fear not, your sleep will be an instant, no more.”
Janice felt her whole body engulfed in tides of weariness and tried to arouse herself from the numbness weighing her down. She wanted to touch Lisette, ask her questions, see Aubert. Janice’s eyes fluttered down, then up. A second white light floated beyond the crawlspace, a vague feminine shape alongside its companion.
“Merci. I thank you, Janice, for thy compassion.”
Janice felt a curious wetness stinging her eyes at the pronouncement. Lisette was going away, leaving her without a glimpse of her face for the first and only time.
“Our souls will meet once more beyond.” The shape shimmered as if gesturing. “I shall call you friend and you will know me. Now, sleep and fret not, your body will come to no harm. I will use it a brief instant and be gone.”
“And Adrian?” Janice felt as hollow as her voice sounded.
“Like you, he is safe. Now, sleep.”
Janice felt her eyelids flutter downward as if touched by feathery wings. Unable to argue, she let her mind go. Sleep came in a waft of sweet raspberry perfume.
Chapter 24
TIME SLIP
“Why are you crying, mon amie? Are you in pain?”
“Non. I cry in joy for I thought never to see you through human eyes again.”
“Nor I you. For three centuries, I hungered to feel the breathless wonder of your kiss. Two lifetimes on the earth plane I sought you out. I called for you, but you did not respond.”
“I heard you, but could not respond. The darkness held me imprisoned, but now there is only light. There is passion in your kiss, mon ami, and our tongues dance together in silent melody.”
“The man’s face pleases you?”
“Certainment. On the earth plane, he is trés handsome. Is the woman’s face pleasing to you?”
“Oui. She bears a striking resemblance to you, when you were human.”
“She gives herself to the man with sweet abandon.”
“Oui. The man’s body does fit her well. Even now, fire bolts of desire arc through him.”
“Yet he fought against you taking him.”
“His will is strong. He worries the woman will not catch fire from his flame.”
“Yet she welcomes him into her body gladly.”
“The man loves the woman. If he did not, nothing would have compelled me to answer your summons. But fret not, he will remember nothing.”
“You will cloud his dreams?”
“He will have no pain except for that which his own mind makes.”
“Trés bien. And now, we must away. The woman’s body is stressed. She cannot longer endure the two of us as one. I must away.”
“I do miss you already, Izzy.”
“Your pain will be only for a moment, mon cher. Fear not, you will see me again on some distant plateau.”
“Oui. And I will take your hand again. Your heart will be my heart.”
“It has always been so. So it shall be again.”
“May the Supreme Light guide you to a safe haven, Izzy. Though you do not see me, I will always be beside you. Now, come kiss me. One final kiss to last perhaps an eternity.”
“I love you, Aubert. Skin to skin, we are one.”
Chapter 25
SATURDAY — 5:30 AM
Janice heard a drumbeat throbbing loudly in her ears. Why didn’t Bibi turn down the stereo? She couldn’t sleep with that steady racket going on. No one could. The sound grew louder and Janice gave an exasperated sigh. She’d have to turn down the volume herself or she’d be deaf before morning. She forced her eyelids up, then sighed as they closed again. Good heavens, she felt drained and hollow and lifeless. And her back ached between her shoulder blades. She had to throw off this lethargy. Her eyelids flickered again and this time stayed up. The drumbeat was still hammering unbelievably loud. What the hell was that noise?
Suddenly, it hit her. She was hearing a heartbeat. Was she lying on someone’s chest? She blinked her eyes rapidly and felt a light tickle of hair along her eyelashes. Tiny tufts of black hair swam into her vision. Adrian! She was lying on Adrian’s naked chest! She craned her head and studied the stubbled chin inches from her face. He was sleeping, dead to the world — more handsome in sleep than when awake. She gave his face and forehead a once over, spotting a knotted lump along his right temple. She winced uncomfortably. If Adrian thought he had a headache before, wait till he woke with this one. Absently, she made a move to brush the swollen area and cried out as a white-hot pain seared up her forearm.
Rolling over on her back with a jerk, Janice clutched her right wrist, giving another yelp as the pain doubled its intensity. She tore her fingers away and brought her arm up in front of her face, choking back a gasp when she spied the mottled flesh. Good heavens, her wrist was three times its normal size. Broken! How had that happened? Understanding dawned at once and she swung her gaze to Adrian’s forehead. She broke her wrist in the fall the way Adrian’s knotted lump had appeared from the crack of his head against the atrium floor. But they weren’t in the atrium garden any longer.
Janice looked up, trying to get her bearings. They were in a bed with white sails. White sails! The words sent an unexpected, icy chill slicing down her spine. Now, why should thinking of sails bother her? Lifting her head, she studied her surroundi
ngs more closely. Draperies, a table edged in a red glow, a small musical birdcage. Her brain skidded to a halt. How in the hell had they gotten from the atrium garden into the solarium and onto the bed that was part of Adrian’s set pieces?
Janice thrust the question away. She didn’t want to know. The thought was too disturbing since all she could envision at the moment was herself and Adrian transformed into some flesh-eating zombies roaming the chateau with no will of their own. She brought her glance back to her throbbing wrist and cupped it gently. Her wrist needed attention. But how to get it? she wondered.
Her gaze sailed away to the solarium windows still drenched in red. Nope, scrap that option. A doctor’s help was out. They were still prisoners. She’d have to make do, tolerate the pain. That is if she could stop shivering long enough to think coherently. Why was she so blasted cold? She glanced down at her chest and gasped. She was stark naked, her breasts and stomach caked in goose bumps. Where in the hell were her clothes? Had Adrian taken them?
Her head whipped around, catching sight of lean muscled buttocks and thighs and she choked back a groan. They had made love, she was sure of it. Why else would their clothes be missing and her skin still tingling as if thoroughly caressed?
Shaken, Janice slid to the edge of the bed, peered over it and spotted a speck of blue peeping from the hem of the silken sheets. With a hasty swipe, she gathered it up with her good hand then searched the floor for her missing bra.
“Great.” she muttered, a second later. Her bra was nowhere in sight. Swinging upright, Janice tossed the sweater over her head. She needed to get warm fast. Her teeth were beginning to chatter from the chill hanging in the room. Carefully, she babied her sore wrist through one sleeve. This was unbelievable. She had just made love to a man and couldn’t remember one second of doing it. Her good hand slipped through the remaining sleeve easily and she pulled the fluffy material down and around her torso. How had she sunk so low? How could she have let Adrian make love to her when she knew he was adamantly against it? How could she have let him touch her in the most intimate of ways?