The Snow Leopard's Christmas Surprise

by Emilia Hartley

  The studio, as it turned out, was really the den of the cottage, though the walls had been covered in sheer, brightly colored fabric and the lighting was candles and oil lamps. A small table cloaked in a rich magenta cloth, sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by four chairs. Against the far wall was a bookcase containing books on every New Age subject Ellie could think of, and then some. Items such as a large crystal ball, a stack of what looked like Tarot cards, and a silver chalice were placed here and there among the books.

  “Welcome,” Phoebe said with an ethereal voice that sent chills down Ellie’s spine, “to the Spirit World.” Then she laughed and waved a hand at them. “I’m just kidding. I only do that when I want to mess with tourists. Take a seat, take a seat. So,” she said when they were settled at the table across from her, “my brother said you’ve been having some strange things going on since you got to town?”

  Nodding, Matt and Ellie filled her in, ending with the letters Ellie found that morning. The entire time, Phoebe watched with a hand at her chin, her brown eyes watching them earnestly.

  “Can I see your hand?” Phoebe asked so abruptly that Ellie jumped. Beside her, Matt nodded his encouragement.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” Obliging, she held out her hand.

  Phoebe took it between her own and flipped it over to expose Ellie’s palm. Phoebe traced a finger lightly over the lines on Ellie’s skin. “Well that’s interesting,” she murmured, tapping her chin with her other hand.

  “What is?” asked Matt.

  “Your Life Line, see?” she said, and Ellie leaned across the table for a better look. Phoebe traced the arched line that spanned from just above her thumb, down to the bottom of her palm. “Do you see how this indent is fractured? Each tiny line goes off on its own. They’re all part of the same line, but they don’t actually seem to be connected. And all of them were short. Looks like you may have been onto something with your past lives theory, Mattie. And here…this is interesting.” Frowning, she bent closer to get a better look. “At the end here, your Life Line is split. Do you see how they veer off like that in both directions? The lines are fainter here, almost as if your path isn’t clear.” Taking a deep breath, Phoebe released her hand and sat back, her eyes troubled. “I’ve never seen it do that before.”

  “What does it mean?” Ellie wondered softly.

  Phoebe pursed her lips. “I’m not entirely certain, but I would venture to guess that it means you have two possible outcomes. One of them shows you having a long, happy life, but the other speaks of certain doom.” Catching the looks on both of their faces, Phoebe hastily brushed the idea aside. “Let me do a reading for you.” Standing, she retrieved her tarot deck.

  Ellie eyed them warily. “I don’t know.” She glanced down at her palm as if it were going to suddenly strike out and hurt her. “I’m not sure I really want to know what they’re going to say.” Matt’s hand squeezed her leg encouragingly, and Ellie felt her courage bolster. “Okay.”

  “Great. Now, I want you to shuffle the deck while thinking of your question.” Phoebe set the cards in front of Ellie and gestured for her to start.

  Ellie timidly picked up the ornately illustrated cards and shuffled obediently. Will I break this curse? she wondered. Will James kill me or claim my family fortune? How will this end?

  “Perfect,” Phoebe told her. “Now cut the cards into three stacks. Just like that. Great.” Reaching across the table, Phoebe flipped over the first card and frowned. “The Tower. Okay, so this isn’t such a great card. It means war. Chaos. There is a great upheaval in your life, a darkness that is causing change.”

  Outside the window, thunder filled the air, the sound shaking the glass. Phoebe turned over the second card and laid it on the table. A flash of lightning illuminated the concern on her face.

  “The Ten of Swords,” Matt read, looking up at his sister. “What does that one mean?”

  The line between her brows deepened. Phoebe gently touched the card. “It isn’t pretty,” she admitted honestly. “It means dark times. Danger. There’s someone who means you harm and he’s closing in.” Another clap of thunder masked the small cry that Ellie uttered. “But it also means that there is nowhere to go but up. Besides,” she said, offering a shaky smile, “it’s just a card. Let’s see what the last one says.” She flipped it over.

  “Death,” Ellie gasped, staring at the cloaked figure atop his white horse. With a quaking hand, she reached out to touch the card.

  “Death isn’t always what it seems,” Phoebe assured them, though her face was pale. “It isn’t always a physical omen. Sometimes the Death card means a great change is coming. The end of something that once was, and the beginning of something new.

  “However, with the other two cards, I would say that whatever darkness is coming for you shouldn’t be taken lightly. If this Dabney character is as dangerous as you say, you need to be careful. He could be the end of you.” Phoebe looked seriously from Ellie to her brother. “He could be the end of both of you.” Another flash of lightning and a boom of thunder. Fear filled her eyes as she gathered the cards. “And whatever you do, you need to do it fast. You’re running out of time.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “We’re doomed,” Ellie exclaimed, bursting into her bedroom, Matt right behind her. Her fiery red hair was sopping wet from the storm that still raged outside and she was soaked to the bone. She wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from fear, but she started to shiver. She had to get out of these wet clothes.

  “We aren’t doomed,” Matt assured her, hanging his drenched coat on the chair near the fireplace. “Remember what your mom’s letter said? We have to break the cycle.”

  Ellie snorted. “What does that even mean? ‘Break the cycle.’ What cycle? The cycle is that James comes along and tries to seduce the women of my family. Well, not just the women, I guess. Mostly, just my reincarnated soul. And from that timeline you showed me, it looks like most of the time he succeeds. And yet, he’s still here, because each and every time it’s not just me that dies young and tragic.” Tears filled Ellie’s eyes as she looked at Matt, willing him to understand. “Don’t you see? It’s not just me he destroys, Matt. You die too.”

  “Sshh,” Matt whispered soothingly, pulling her into his embrace. He brushed a hand over her hair as she began to sob. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  “How?” she asked against his chest. “How is it going to be okay?”

  Matt shook his head. “I don’t know. But we’re not going to let him win. Maybe that’s how we break the cycle. Maybe we somehow stay alive, don’t give him what he wants.”

  “Matt, what he wants is me.”

  “Exactly.”

  Shaking her head, she brushed the tears from his cheeks. “You don’t understand the power he has over me. When he brought me those roses? It was like my mind somehow rationalized choosing him over you until I no longer cared who you were.”

  “Yes, that could be a problem,” he conceded, tipping her face up to look at him. “But it wasn’t really you that forgot about me, was it?”

  “No.”

  “And it was remembering me that broke the spell, right?”

  A small sliver of hope shown through the darkness. “I suppose so.”

  Matt grinned and she felt a warm glow deep within her heart. She loved that grin of his. “So, then all you have to do is think of me all the time and we win.”

  Laughing, Ellie playfully smacked his arm. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” Leaning forward, he kissed her, slow and deep, gathering her up in his arms. Ellie let herself be absorbed in his touch, in the feel of his soft lips on hers, of his tongue in playing in her mouth. She loved the way the way they seemed to melt into one another, as if nothing else in the world mattered in that moment but the two of them.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he promised her, his hands pushing her shirt up over her chest and slipping it off her arms. “I’m go
ing to keep you safe.” He lightly brushed his lips over the swell of her breasts, his fingers playing over her nipples beneath the light fabric of her bra. With expert hands, he reached behind her back and unhooked the clasp, letting her spill free in his hands. She gasped when he took her breast into his mouth and lightly grazed her nipple. “I need you to trust me.”

  Unable to do anything else, she let him lead her to the bed where he eased her down, undressed them both, and stretched out beside her. His long, muscled body covered hers and she sighed against him when he slipped into the hot wetness of her. She clung to him, her legs wrapped around his waist as he softly moved in and out. “Trust me,” he whispered against her neck, kissing his way down to her collar bone.

  How could she do anything but? It was amazing to think that it had only been a handful of days since she’d met him, but already, she couldn’t imagine her life without Matt McKinnon. She didn’t even care if it was her past life that was aching to be with him. He was her soulmate. She knew it from the depths of her heart. Every fiber of her being belonged to him and she never wanted to take it back.

  In and out, he moved, his hands roaming gently over her skin as if he were memorizing every inch of her. Though the storm still raged outside, she moaned against him, exalting in the soft, languid pleasure he offered. The long, hardness of him filled her in a way no other man had and she trembled each time he thrust against her.

  Was it Matt she had always been waiting for? Was he the reason she had always been too afraid to get close to anyone? The reason she had never before felt that pull of love that she felt the moment she saw him? Could she be brave enough now to allow her heart what it wanted the most?

  Matt trembled against her, his hands reaching for hers, their finger entwining together. “I love you,” he whispered over her skin and Ellie felt a thrill wash over her. With one last shudder, she clung to him, moaning, and let herself fall.

  CHAPTER 14

  Elizabeth walked slowly toward the edge of the cliff, her bare feet treading over sharp rock and grass, but she didn’t care. She hardly even felt the cold slap of the wind as her long, white nightdress flew around her. She didn’t feel anything anymore. Not for James, not for Matthew, not even her tiny daughter, Amelia.

  Sweet, beautiful, Amelia, she thought. She was perfect in every way. She was going to miss her the most when she was gone.

  Tears flowed down Elizabeth’s cheeks as she stared out at the heaving sea. Waves crashed against the rocks below her, and part of her yearned to be among them. It was a part of her she could no longer fight.

  Whatever Dabney had done to her had taken its toll. He had sought to control her, but he destroyed her instead. She no longer knew what she felt, whom she loved. She only knew that to love meant pain and she could no longer be part of it. Her mind had broken under Lord Dabney’s spell, and even the thought of her sweet baby girl couldn’t convince her to stay.

  Unable to help herself, she screamed her rage into the wind. Why had he done this to her? Was her soul the price she must pay for his fortune? She used to laugh. She used to smile. She used to be the center of attention and she loved every moment of it. Now, she shied away from social interaction. She stayed shut up in her rooms, depressed from morning to night. She wanted to see nobody, and she didn’t. Except for when her husband called for her. She drank his potion, fell under his spell once more, and for a time, all she would think of was him. And yet, every night, she would wake yearning for Matthew.

  Her poor, sweet love, Matthew. Oh, the pain she had caused him whenever she was under Dabney’s influence. She could see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch whenever they found a way to steal a few moments together. She couldn’t keep hurting him. Hurting them both. He knew what was happening. They both knew her husband was using some kind of dark sorcery to control her. They were certain he was evil, even if they had no way to prove it.

  Glancing over her shoulder at Hargrove House, Elizabeth gasped for air, her heart hurting. Amelia was Matthews, she was certain of it. There wasn’t a trace of darkness within her. She was pure love and light, and Elizabeth could think of nothing better than to raise her child with the man she loved.

  But that would never happen now. She only hoped they would both understand.

  “Elizabeth!”

  Turning, Elizabeth saw Matthew running towards her, his arms outstretched. He was still in his riding clothes and she wondered idly what could possibly have possessed him to come to Hargrove House late at night.

  Reaching for her, Matthew held her shoulders, staring into her green eyes. “Elizabeth, my love, please, stop.”

  Her heart breaking, she reached up and stroked a hand over his cheek. “I am a weapon he uses against you,” she told him, imploring him to understand. “I see him use me to cut you down, and each time his sword hits its mark, each time I see pain in your eyes, it hurts me, too.”

  “No, my love, I can take it. I can wait for the time that we have together.”

  But Elizabeth shook her head. “Don’t you see? It isn’t enough. It will never be enough. And now…now I no longer know what’s real. I cannot see the difference between night and day because it is always night for me. My heart is broken and cold, Matthew. The fire that used to live within me has gone out and I cannot serve him anymore. I cannot be his property. He may own my body and control my mind, but he will never own my heart. My heart, my soul, they belong to you. To you and to Amelia. But he will never stop trying to take them, and I fear he will take you both from me because of it.

  “It must end,” she told him, wishing that weren’t the truth. Around them the wind howled, and thunder boomed through the night. “I cannot let him win. But please, please remember that no matter what dark magic he used to control me, my love has always only ever been for you.”

  Any words he may have uttered were lost in their embrace as Elizabeth crushed her mouth to his in a passionate goodbye kiss. She poured every ounce of love and feeling she had left into that kiss, knowing she would never feel that way again. Matthew, too, clung to her as if he had finally accepted that this was the end.

  Then he was viciously ripped from her arms and flung to the ground. Dabney stood over him, his sword pointed at Matthew’s chest, cold fury swarming over his face. “You dare take what is mine, you worthless excuse for a man?” Lighting lit the sky around him and Elizabeth trembled at his hateful sneer.

  Matthew, on the other hand, stared coldly up at his adversary. “She will never be yours.” Kicking out with his left leg, Matthew swept Dabney’s feet out from under him and stood, drawing his sword as Dabney righted himself once more. “Her heart has always seen only me.”

  “Lies!” Furious, Dabney attacked, his heavy sword raining down blow after blow, driving Matthew back. But he wasn’t to be beaten so easily. He pushed back as hard as he could, parrying and blocking in turn. Dabney raised his other hand and pointed it at the ground, and lightning struck at Matthew’s feet, sending him crashing to the ground.

  Dabney’s cruel laugh flew through the end. “This is the man you would leave me for?” he jeered at Elizabeth. “This pathetic, poor man who pales in comparison with me? This is who you prefer?”

  Even from meters away, Elizabeth could feel his anger, but she forced herself to stand tall and stare him down. He would lose tonight, whether he knew it or not. If only she could keep him focused on her instead of on Matthew. “You cannot control me anymore, James,” she called over the wind. Behind him, Matthew was finally climbing to his feet, his hand on his sword. Dabney hadn’t seen him yet. “I do not belong to you anymore,” she told him. “And I never will again.”

  Dabney’s lips curved in a cold, cruel smile. “You will not belong to him, either.” Without warning, he turned, and drove his sword through Matthew’s heart.

  “No!”

  With one last look at Elizabeth, Matthew clutched at his chest before falling lifeless to the dirt.

  Everything that had been holding Elizabeth together bro
ke. Every tenuous fiber of sanity tore apart as she stared at the fall body of her one true love. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing was worth living for without Matthew. Feeling nothing but rage and pain, Elizabeth smiled triumphantly at the husband that was her enemy, wishing him an eternity filled with misery and pain. Knowing her death would seal his fate.

  Then she threw herself over the cliff, into the rocks below.

  CHAPTER 15

  Ellie sat straight up, her heart pounding against her ribs in her chest. She could hear the rushing sounds of her own pulse roaring in her ears. Feel the crash of the waves against her bare skin; the water was icy cold. And the pain. Oh, the pain. Her body breaking as it hit the rocks below. But that pain was nothing compared to the heartbreak she had felt watching Matthew perish at her husband’s hand.

  Elizabeth’s husband, she reminded herself. That wasn’t her. She didn’t just commit suicide. She was safe in bed, with Matt sleeping soundly beside her. Thank goodness, he was such a heavy sleeper, she thought. Otherwise, he would be having just as much as trouble believing all of this as she was.

  Logically, Ellie knew it was just a dream, even if her dreams felt more like memories than visions. It hadn’t actually happened. She knew that. But oh, it felt as if she had died. Past life or not, she never wanted to experience anything like that, ever again.

  Slipping from the bed, she crossed her arms over her bare chest against the cold, and fumbled through the dark for her bathrobe. Easing it on, she padded over to the bathroom and winced at the brightness of the light before gazing at herself in the mirror.

  She looked horrible. Deep, dark circles sagged beneath her eyes in the soft lighting. Tentatively, she touched a finger to her skin. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. And, truth be told, it felt like she hadn’t. Every night, she was reliving somebody else’s life. A life, mind you, that had happened two hundred years ago.