Raging Spirits

by Angel Smits

  He paused, as if weighing whether to tell her. “I almost shifted in there.”

  “Almost? You can tell when it’s going to happen?” He nodded. “How much can you control it?”

  “Not enough. We’ll talk. Let’s get going.” Tearing his gaze from hers, he moved away. Popping the trunk, he threw the files in and then walked her to her car.

  In a matter of minutes, he was seated behind the wheel of his car and she pulled away from the curb.

  His headlights followed her home. When her house came into view, it seemed so normal and familiar. Familiar meant safe. She glanced back at David’s headlights.

  At least she’d thought it had meant safe until last night’s dream.

  THIS TIME SHE didn’t have to ask where they were going. He’d told her about Dove’s Hollow, but was it real? Were they actually going to be safe there? As they drove past the diner and into the old city limits she felt safer, though she couldn’t explain why.

  Leaning her head back against the rest, she let her eyelids slip down. She fought sleep, fought against the possibility of another vision. The gritty feeling in her eyes that had plagued her for so long increased. She stared out the window, fighting to stay awake.

  The familiar buildings of Dove’s Hollow surrounded them, and even in the dim night, the town looked dark and uninviting. David drove past the garage and turned another corner. This time she saw the remnants of a once tree-line avenue that sat huddled against the foothills.

  Overgrown with weeds, the buildings were ramshackle and as they drew closer, she realized nearly every window was boarded up. It was a dead town, waiting for time and the elements to wipe it away. At the thought, she felt sadness settle around her heart. These homes were nothing more than the outer shells of what used to be.

  He pulled to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Looking out his window, past his silhouette, she saw a house that at least had the boards taken off the windows. All except one, in the far upper right. The shattered glass was covered with what looked like cardboard.

  “This is where Rachel grew up. It’s the only place she can’t reach us.”

  “Are you sure she can’t?” Clarissa didn’t think there was any place the horrid visions and sensations couldn’t follow her, but anything was worth a try at this point.

  “It’s where I’ve stayed a few times since she started driving me crazy, and it’s worked. Come on.”

  He climbed out and rounded the car before she could do more than turn and grasp the door handle. He had the door open in the same instant she lifted the latch. She slid out and stood within the protective haven between the car and the door. She found herself hesitant to leave it.

  “If she can’t reach you here, why don’t you stay here all the time?”

  “I’ve considered it, but it would become a prison.”

  He stood on the other side of the door, his gaze meeting hers. He was asking for her trust, asking her to help him. She couldn’t deny that look any more than she could deny the urge to breathe. Stepping out from behind the door, she slammed it with a decisive wham and slipped her fingers between his.

  Hand in hand they made their way across the cracked cement sidewalk. It was difficult, as the tree roots had shoved several sections upward, allowing weeds to grow through.

  The front step sagged and David helped her up, making sure her foot landed on the strongest part of the board. Taking a key out of his pocket, he stepped to the door. The lock moved easily, as if he’d oiled it recently, and he shoved the door open. Taking her hand in his, he guided her into the small foyer.

  Despite the dust and cobwebs, she thought it must have once been a nice house. Quaint. Modest.

  What disturbed her was the fact that she felt nothing. No vibrations, no impressions that anyone had ever lived here. It was truly an empty house. A sadly lonely house.

  Moonlight streamed in the grime-coated front window. Its milky white color illuminated a few dust motes as they danced in the breeze the open door created.

  David flipped a light switch, and a small lamp in the corner came on. Shadows and dust cloaked the room, and in the center of what had once been the living room, sat a huge brass bed. A familiar brass bed. The one in last night’s vision.

  The scratch on her throat throbbed in response to the memory. She took a couple steps back. “Were you here last night?” she asked him.

  “No. I was at my apartment.”

  Relieved, she relaxed a little. “That bed . . . ”

  “Yeah, I know.” He swallowed. “It was in the dream. It used to be in my room in the big house.” Rumpled sheets and a tattered old quilt lay haphazardly across the mattress.

  The evidence of his stay here, of his tossing and turning beneath those sheets, shot hot sparks through her bloodstream. She saw him in her mind’s eye, as he’d been last night, nude and beautiful. Heat fused every cell in her face, and she turned so he wouldn’t see. “Interesting place for a bed.” She fought for normal ground.

  “It was the easiest place to move it into. I’m not planning on this being a permanent arrangement.”

  The soft hum of a small refrigerator in the corner startled her. She watched as David walked over to it and pulled out two beers.

  “I don’t suppose this is your usual fare, but right now I need something.” He twisted off the top of one bottle and handed it to her. After opening the other, he tilted it to his lips.

  She saw the muscles in his throat work as he drank, and hot desire came alive in the pit of her stomach. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and she slowly walked across the room to sit on the dust-covered window seat. The beer tasted good and soothing and all too normal in this strange place. The silence actually felt good.

  “The heater doesn’t work, so we’re stuck with the fireplace. I’ll get some wood.” He finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle into a basket in the corner.

  The house was silent. No sounds of settling, no appliances except the small refrigerator. Nothing gave her any reassurances that this was a good place. She shivered and walked over to the couch where she settled down. This was probably the best place for her to sleep. She glanced back at the unmade bed.

  There was no way she’d sleep there. Not with David’s scent there, not that bed.

  David came in then, a load of wood in his arms. In a few minutes the fire blazed, and he turned around to face her. He’d said they’d talk, but suddenly she wasn’t sure she really wanted to do that.

  Instead, she sat on the couch and stared into the struggling fire. Instead of sitting in the wingback chair, he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and moved to stand beside her.

  “Here,” he whispered and settled next to her. The strength of his arms, and the solid wall of his chest against her back, eased her fears a little.

  “I’m afraid to go to sleep,” she admitted, though with the fire, the alcohol in her system, and the lack of any recent sleep, she doubted she’d be strong enough to resist.

  “The visions shouldn’t come back.” She noticed he didn’t promise.

  The fire popped and sizzled in the silence. For a long moment, she watched the dance of shadows and light on the faded wallpaper. Almost pretty, in a macabre sort of way.

  “Tell me,” David said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About what scares you. What inside that pretty head sees these horrid images?”

  “You think I’m pretty?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  They laughed, and she breathed a sigh of relief and resignation. She didn’t speak, though.

  “Come on,” he softly prompted.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I grew up in Boston. My family had migrated from Salem a couple centuries ago, so the stories of witches have always been tied to us.�
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  “Are you?”

  “What? A witch? Not unless I’m having a really bad day.” Again she paused, and he nudged her. “In the summer before my senior year in college, I had a dream like that first one of you. Very vivid—a little boy was trapped in a dark place. I could see his face but nothing else.”

  Even the distant memory made her shiver, and David’s arms tightened. She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, as if she could hide from him and the memories that made her long to weep.

  “I tried to find him. I lost my job because I’d see someone I thought was in the vision. I tried to find out who the boy was. Finally, I went to the police.”

  David groaned, as if he knew what was coming.

  “As soon as they found the bodies of two little boys in the woods, I was arrested.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No.” The memories of that time in jail made her voice tremble. “I spent two weeks in jail and months as a suspect.”

  “You’re not in jail now. What happened?”

  “They finally used modern techniques and caught the real killer.” She fell silent.

  “But?”

  “But not until halfway through my trial. While they were more than willing to use the information I gave them to help solve the case, they weren’t willing to really believe I had psychic powers. The press fried me.”

  “I can understand that.” He didn’t elaborate, but she recalled Faith’s comments about his past. How bad had it been when his parents had died? Did he remember that? What about after Rachel’s death? She snuggled closer to him. They’d blamed him for her death. She didn’t ask him to explain. She didn’t have to.

  “Is that why you moved clear out here to Colorado?”

  She shook her head, hiding behind the gold curls that fell across her face. “No,” she cleared her throat. “I left because of my family.”

  “What did they do?”

  She watched the shadows again, watching as they seemed to form into her father’s angry form and her mother’s shocked and appalled face. “They accused me of ruining the family name. Of putting us back into the days of Salem.”

  “Surely they knew better.”

  She laughed, a mirthless laugh that hurt. “No. The only person who ever understood me was Granny Cleary, and she’d died just that summer.”

  “You miss her.”

  “Yeah, a lot. Funny, I’ve thought about her several times in the past week. There was a woman at a farmer’s market I went to who reminded me too much of her. Scary.”

  His arms tightened and she felt his lips press against the top of her head. She closed her eyes, not inviting sleep this time, but to take the memory closer inside.

  She wasn’t at all surprised when he turned her around and kissed her. She kissed him back, letting herself feel the freedom of it without the fear of what would happen to him. The blanket slipped away, and he pulled her close, his warmth engulfing her.

  “I don’t think I should stay,” he whispered, slowly moving away from her. “I can come back in the morning. You’ll sleep better that way.”

  “Why?” Was he nuts? She’d never sleep out here in this isolated place alone. “Don’t you need to rest too? What’s the matter?”

  David closed his eyes and then opened them to stare at her, his gaze full of hot desire. “I want you. That’s not a good thing.”

  She almost agreed with him. Almost. “I thought we were safe here.”

  “You are, I’m pretty sure. I . . . I haven’t tested the limits of my shifting. I haven’t had anything emotional happen when I’ve been here.”

  She stared at him. Then her gaze darted to the bed. The images and feelings were too close to ignore. “I’m not sleeping in that bed anyway. You might as well use it.

  “You might be at risk.”

  “Okay.” She sat up straighter, pulling the blanket back up. “You said earlier we’d talk. I think we need to. Now.” She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to ask, what she wanted to know. “Can you explain exactly what happens to you?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long time.

  His voice was soft and yet intense when he finally spoke. “So far it’s happened half a dozen times. Usually it’s the bird, but there are others.”

  “What else?” She forced herself to ask, seeing the beast from her dream.

  “Once a cat. That’s how I got those cuts on my stomach. Some idiot shot at me to scare me away.”

  She frowned. He could have been killed. What would happen to him if he were hurt or killed while he was an animal? She shivered and curled her fingers into the blanket.

  “In my dream last night, you turned into a lion.”

  “I what?” He sat up straighter. “I didn’t dream that. Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. See.” She reached up and pulled the high collar back. She didn’t know how the marks looked now, though they still stung a little.

  “I did that?” He leaned closer, his breath fanning across the tender skin. Suddenly, he stood and paced in front of the fire. “You shouldn’t have come here with me.” He reached for his jacket. “I’m leaving.”

  “No.” She stood, grabbing his arm to stop him. He couldn’t leave her here, and she couldn’t face going anywhere right now. “Please, stay. I know how you feel about me. I know that what I feel for you is stronger than anything I’ve ever experienced before. I can’t believe you’d hurt me. Ever.”

  He groaned and sat back down, pulling her tight against him. “God, you shouldn’t believe in me. No one else ever has.” His voice came out muffled as he buried his face in her hair. She felt his lips against the first scratch, soft, gentle and soothing.

  His touch felt so right, so wonderful. She knew he’d never intentionally hurt her, but what about unintentionally?

  Dare she test him, herself, and this place?

  Before she could change her mind, she turned into his embrace and slipped him into one of her own. Burying her fingers deep in his hair, she brought his lips to hers and opened up to him. He responded with a kiss that erased all her previous memories and created new ones.

  The fire popped, the sound filling the quiet as he lifted her and carried her to the bed.

  Eleven

  THE FLICKERING LIGHT of the fire had been bright near the couch, but the bed sat farther away. As the flames danced, so did the shadows on the wall, across the bed, and over David. He gently settled her against the pillows and sat beside her on the edge of the bed.

  “I love your hair,” he whispered, as he combed his fingers through the long strands.

  Clarissa smiled, watching the wonder as it covered his face and reflected in his eyes. She touched him, rubbing her hands up and down his solid arms.

  There was no pain, no threat, to this time they had. Not here. Not now. The worry she’d carried with her drifted away, and she knew tonight that things were real. So very real.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, the words a soft plea.

  He slowly leaned down, his shadow covering her first and his lips following.

  He tasted faintly of beer and strongly of man. A man who had held back too long and was still trying to. His lips were warm and hard, and she kissed him back, wanting him to let go and feel. To let himself experience this with her.

  She unbuttoned his shirt and slid her hands inside to feel his warm skin. A sigh escaped her and vanished into the kiss.

  She pulled his shirt off as his hands slipped beneath her blouse. The feel of his fingers on her skin was nearly too much. Hot desire sifted through her blood. She leaned back and pulled the turtleneck over her head. He didn’t wait for her to take off her bra, but instead released it himself.

  “I want to see all of you.” He leaned back and quickly removed the rest of her clothes. Wh
en she was naked before him, he stood and removed the last of his own clothes, never taking his gaze from her.

  She’d barely had time to feel the ache of his absence before he returned and settled close to her, his hands on her waist and his lips hungrily feasting at her breasts.

  Molten heat flowed through her, melting any doubts or questions or coherent thoughts she had. All she knew was he was here with her, warm and alive and loving her. She gave into his skilled seduction and let him bring her body to aching life.

  “I want you. I want it real,” he said, as much a command as a plea.

  Poised above her, his arms taught with restraint, he waited for her reply. She paused only an instant, only long enough for her mind to fill with anticipation and desire. Finally, she whispered, “Yes.”

  And then he was there, where she wanted him most. She cried out with ecstasy and surprise as he thrust into her.

  He filled her, swiftly and deeply, again and again, until she was no longer aware of where she was and no longer cared. All she wanted was to remain one with him. To love him. To hold him. To keep him.

  Higher and faster they climbed until she shattered into a million pieces of joy. He trembled in her arms, and her cry mingled with his.

  She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t move for fear of breaking the spell. She listened as their breath mingled in the cool air. Neither of them spoke for a long time, and the air cooled as the firelight dimmed.

  Softly David kissed her, and she let herself relax. She realized she’d been waiting, fearing what would come next.

  She opened her eyes and gazed at the smooth expanse of his bare back over his shoulder. Shadows danced across his skin and she smiled against him.

  As if the movement alerted him, he moved away, rolling to the side and taking her with him. He wrapped the blankets around them.

  Still they didn’t speak, as if afraid words would break the spell. Clarissa just wanted to savor the feel of him and the normality of the moment.

  As the last flicker of flame winked out, exhaustion finally caught up with her, and she let her eyes drift closed. For the first time in what seemed like ages, she felt safe enough to sleep.