Brianna checked the clock again. Where had the time gone? “Darn it! I only have fifteen minutes to eat.” She hurried into the kitchen. The setting sun sent a soft orange glow through the window. It shone on the clean white countertops and floor, lending light to the dim room.
Killer raced in when she opened the door. His little rear wagged frantically as she opened a can of food for him and filled his bowl.
She pursed her lips. “Now what am I going to have for dinner?”
* * * *
Two hours later, a shivering Brianna rushed into the house for her cape. “I don’t believe I forgot to grab my cloak!” The never-ending stream of children hadn’t given her an opportunity to retrieve it, before. She ran to the closet and pulled out her beautiful black velvet cape. It was the one thing she’d splurged on when creating her Magical tools. She’d seen a red one just like it in a movie and had wanted one ever since. It took forever to find the right pattern, and even longer to muster the courage to cut the expensive black velvet. Never had she spent so much on one thing. Although she knew if she took care of it, it would last a long time.
Brianna bent and patted Killer on the head. “I’ll be back tomorrow, sweetie. Be good,” she said, smiling when he growled with his little face stuck in his bowl, his stubby tail wagging like mad. Stepping out on her porch, she closed the door and rattled the knob to make sure it was locked. Gathering her cloak close, she started the short walk to Amber’s house, a few blocks down the street.
When she first learned of The Craft, she had been pleasantly surprised to find that a wise woman lived so close to her. She first found out Amber was a witch three years ago. She had, in fact, spotted her in the occult section of a New Age bookstore. They had become fast friends after that.
She peered down the darkened street. It was quiet now, eerily so. A dense fog rolled down the street. It leeched into corners like a living thing. In fact, it was kind of creepy. It was a good thing that all of the children finished with trick-or-treating and were tucked safely in their homes counting their booty. She could imagine them with sugar highs, their little hands and faces covered in chocolate. They would be sticky and sweet, smelling of sugar, chocolate, and dirt.
Brianna loved children—even wanted a dozen or so of her own. She only needed to find the right man to share her life with, which, of course, was why she had resorted to casting a spell in the first place. Today had been the twenty-eighth day. Since spells usually came to fruition within a full moon cycle, it was a safe bet that hers was another resounding flop. The spell, even with the power she’d seen shoot from the tip of her wand, apparently hadn’t worked. She was no closer to having found her soul-mate than she’d been last month. Her shoulders drooped at the thought.
Avoiding an especially thick patch of fog on the sidewalk, she crossed the street. She had no desire to be caught in the mist tonight. There were too many stories about what can happen on all-hallows-eve when the veil between worlds was thin. Her step quickened. Though she knew most of the stories were just that, she still didn’t want to take the chance of stepping through an ethereal doorway to another world.
A strange sound came from the old Harper place next door to her house and made her jump. Curiosity caused her to slow her pace. No one had lived there since before she’d moved to the neighborhood. Over the years, the house had become a rundown, ramshackle roost for stray animals and lusty teenagers. It needed to be torn down or renovated. It gave the impression of having been a beautiful home at one time. It now just gave everyone the creeps.
No one wanted it. Mr. Harper had gone berserk and brutally murdered his wife there. It had been that very thing which caused the property values in this neighborhood to drop enough for Brianna to keep the house she had inherited from her parents. The taxes had been too much for her before.
Brianna peered across the street in an effort to see through the dense fog. All the while, she called herself a busybody with nothing better to do than poke her nose into other people’s business.
She poked anyway and hoped she wouldn’t have a reason to regret it. A light bobbed around the interior. Someone was inside with a candle or flashlight. It was probably just kids making out again. Suddenly, the lights on the first floor came on.
“Did someone finally buy the old place?” Her voice sounded strange, almost disembodied. The fog distorted the intonation, lent it an eerie quality. Curious, Brianna wandered closer to the rambling old house. It was one of only a handful of two-story houses on the block. The steps up to the porch, over the crawl space, needed work. Some of the boards were missing, and the rotted handrail needed to be replaced.
Brianna crossed the street, her feet dragging, even as her gaze was drawn to the patch of light on the front porch that spilled through one of the tall windows. It was almost as if some unseen force pulled her toward the house, like a compulsion. She walked blindly, still staring at the light in the window and didn’t notice the rapidly approaching figure through the fog.
“Oomph!” The impact forced the breath from her lungs. Brianna felt as though she’d been run over by a freight train. Only it wasn’t a train that ran her over at all. It was the man who stood towering over her. Brianna inhaled sharply and looked up at him. She was tall, but he was even more so. He was at least a half a foot taller than her five-foot nine-inch frame.
He held Brianna’s shoulders in a firm grip, where he had grabbed her when they bumped into each other. She swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the sexual awareness accompanying his touch. The aura of power that surrounded him was strong and almost frightening. Gooseflesh covered her skin, and she fought the urge to shiver beneath his touch.
“Excuse me,” they said in unison.
Brianna, grateful for his quick thinking, stared up at his dark good looks, unable to say a thing. She certainly would have fallen, had he not caught her. Swallowing thickly, Brianna attempted to ignore the rush of heat racing through her bloodstream at his touch. She also tried to ignore the intense desire to fall at his feet in supplication, the man was so commanding.
His warm hands rested against her sensitive flesh, and he absently massaged the hollow above her collarbone with his thumbs. Heat flared out from where his thumbs caressed her and a strange feeling settled low in her womb. This man was sex on a stick!
She looked up. Way up. Whooo boy! The man was tall—the tallest she’d seen in a long, long time. His thick, ebony hair gleamed blue-black in the feeble light from the street. Cut short, it was wavy and stuck up in all directions, as if he continually felt the need to rake a worried hand through it. His face was ruggedly handsome, framing a strong jaw, straight nose, and firm sensual lips that held the promise of passion. Brianna couldn’t help it. She stood and stared, unable to tear her gaze away from this perfect specimen of manhood.
The man’s snug jeans encased oh-so-long, muscular legs like they’d been tailored for him. Perhaps they had. They certainly left very little to her imagination. At least she hoped she wasn’t imagining the seemingly large size of his package. If Amber was right, and size was everything, well, this guy had it all.
His shirt, a button down of an indeterminate color that was difficult to see in the subdued light, was opened at the neck and revealed a small portion of his smooth, muscular chest. She was almost sorry he was wearing a shirt. Oh, to have all of those muscles she could see rippling beneath the shirt plainly visible to her inspection.
Yum! Brianna unconsciously licked her lips as she felt her temperature rise. She actually had to make a deliberate effort not to fan herself. Clearing her throat, she tilted her head back and smiled. She really liked that in a man, having to crane her neck so she could see him, that is. There weren’t too many men in the world she could literally look up to.
The man stood still, studying her intently. Brianna watched, spellbound, as emotions chased through his expression, swirling through the depths of his dark eyes.
She cleared her throat, reluctantly stepped from his gentle embra
ce and finally gained his full attention. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was just surprised to see lights on in this old house.” She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from babbling.
The man smiled. His straight teeth a brilliant display of white in his shadowed face. “I am sure you were,” he nodded toward the house. “I have heard that no one has lived here for nearly five years.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at it critically. “It is a shame, really. It is still very beautiful inside, even though it has been neglected for far too long. Would you care to—” he offered as he extended his arm toward the house.
“I can’t,” she interrupted. “I’m expected at a friend’s house. We’re going out together.” She smiled apologetically. “I hope to see you tomorrow, though. Perhaps we can have coffee then. I live next door to you there.” She pointed to her house then held out her hand. “I’m Brianna O’Neill, welcome to the neighborhood.”
He dipped his head, almost regally. “It is nice to meet you, Brianna.” He took her hand in his before he bent over it, pressing his warm lips against her knuckles. “Please forgive my lack of manners. I am Niklas Voortag.”
The man had a strange, but beautiful accent. His English, though formal, was flawless.
Her eyes widened as she glanced at her watch, “Oh, my! I really have to run. It was nice meeting you,” she called back with a wave as she disappeared down the street.
* * * *
Niklas stood watching as her steps echoed in the night and the cape billowed behind her. The sweet smell of berries lingered in the air as she walked away. He stared after the woman as she hurried down the dark, mist-covered sidewalk until the dense fog totally surrounded her.
He shook his head, and his mouth twisted wryly. Just his luck! The first female he’d been remotely attracted to for the last five years ran away from him. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, though, with that huge hairy growth on the side of her nose. Yet, there was something about her that attracted him.
Inhaling deeply, he breathed in her sweet scent again and smiled. She smelled very nice, too, which was more than he could say for the women on some of the worlds he’d visited recently. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his new jeans and sauntered toward the place he would call home for the next few weeks.
He’d no sooner stepped into the house before he heard a shriek overhead. He started toward the stairs at a run, looking up just in time to watch Minra, his engineer, fly down. Her nut-brown hair was in disarray as wisps of cobwebs framed a face nearly as white as the blouse she wore. He reached out to steady her as she appeared ready to topple over any second.
“There is a furry beast up there!” she shrieked and pointed at the stairs with a shudder. “I’m not going up there again, not until it’s gone. I don’t know what it is, but when it looked at me and opened its mouth, I saw razor sharp teeth.” Still trembling, she pulled free, wrapped her arms around her middle and rubbed her biceps. She did a nervous little dance and her whole body shook. “Get Cholo down here to take care of it.” She blushed, lowering thick, dark lashes. “Or Rodel.”
A sound caused them both to look up. Minra squeaked with fear and moved to put herself behind Niklas. She grasped his waist and looked around him to the carpeted stairs.
He grinned, tempted to remind her who he was. The thought made him wonder what kind of reaction he’d get. He’d grown very fond of the crew over the last year of travel. Sequestered aboard the ship together for so long, they had become a family of sorts. “No need for them, Minra. I can handle this creature.”
He didn’t bother to tell her he knew exactly what it was. She would have known had she spent more time using the subliminal discs, which was a situation he would address at another time. Niklas approached the stairs quietly. He didn’t want to startle the little creature. Sitting down, he ignored Minra’s sharply drawn breath, held out his hand and crooned softly to the shiny black animal.
It crept cautiously toward him as it sniffed the air. When the animal was in his lap, he began scratching it behind its ears and under its chin. Soon it began to emit a strange humming sound, similar to the vibration made by the hoverpods on Terrna. This must be what the subliminal disks had referred to as purring. Niklas stood and walked toward Minra.
She backed up a step, held her hand out in front of her as if to ward him off. She shook her head, obviously still afraid of the little creature.
“It will not harm you. The domesticated ones do not attack unless provoked,” he said softly, still petting the cat. He rubbed a particularly good spot under its chin. The animal tilted its head back and closed its eyes. “Feel how soft his fur is,” he whispered. “I have never felt anything like this before.” His big hand gently stroked the silky fur. The cat let out a pathetic little mewling sound and tilted its head to the side in ecstasy.
Tentatively, Minra reached out and touched the silky soft coat of the cat and her eyes grew wide with undisguised amazement.
“If you take him in your arms and hold him gently, he will not hurt you. Carry him into the…” Niklas paused, tried to remember the word. “Take him to the kitchen and give him some of the milk we picked up this morning. I think they are supposed to like that.”
Gingerly, Minra took the cat from him, cradled it in her arms and left.
He turned in a slow circle, studying the empty room. On this world, this area would be considered spacious. It was barely the size of a bathing chamber in his palace.
There was plenty of work to be done here. Looking down, he saw bits of paper and cigarette butts on the floor. A dark stain marred the beautiful wood under a broken window where it had begun to rot. The kitchen wasn’t modern, even by Earth standards. He couldn’t add a replicating device even if it had been. According to the information they’d gathered, replicators weren’t available on this world.
Niklas didn’t know what they would do for food. He had never handled raw foodstuffs before, and he didn’t dare eat anything Minra prepared unless he suddenly became suicidal he thought with a grimace.
On any other planet, he would have contacted the government for permission to dock or just set the ship down in an unpopulated area if they weren’t advanced enough to contact. He couldn’t do that here. According to what they learned from their history, this world loved warring, and there were too many airplanes which could fly over any remote area and spot his ship. Even though Niklas knew he would win any armed conflict, he didn’t want it to come to that. As it was, the crew had to leave him here with Minra, until they could find a permanent way to fool their radar. Right now, the Conquest remained well hidden behind the planet’s single moon.
Niklas leaned against the doorjamb, resting his head on the cool wood. The subliminal disks had been extremely out of date. It took Reva forever to gather the data they needed to make sure everyone, especially him, would be able to function on the surface like they’d been born here. There were still a few, Minra for example, who needed to spend more time with the revised discs.
He shook his head. It had been far too long since his world had sent a scout vessel to study these people. Earth was so far out of the loop of contacted worlds, they had ignored it for over a hundred and fifty years. That must never happen again. He had been prepared to appear on the surface carrying a replicated weapon on his hip, based on past information. It wouldn’t have taken long to get arrested by the authorities, and with no identification, he would have had a very difficult time getting himself out of that predicament.
Niklas rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel another headache coming on. They were becoming far too regular. So much so, it was beginning to feel strange to not have the familiar sore neck and ache between his eyes. He’d need to lie down soon, a circumstance he awaited with mixed feelings. When he slept, he dreamt of a woman calling to him. Whenever he tried to force her image through the haze of his subconscious mind, he woke abruptly. The headache always preceded the dreams. Stopping by the kitchen, he ne
eded to inform Minra that he was going out. She leaned against the counter, watching the cat drink milk from a small bowl. She turned when he entered the room. “I’m going to go out for a walk. I’ll try to find something for us to eat while I am gone.”
Nodding, she hitched her shoulder. “Be safe, sir.”
He inclined his head and stood in the hallway for a minute studying her. It was too bad she wasn’t much of a cook, either. There wasn’t a better engineer in the fleet, but when it came to more traditional womanly pursuits, she was at a loss.
Since his feet were his only mode of transportation, at the moment, he walked toward the main road. Oddly enough, it was called Main Street. It seemed as though he’d been walking forever when Niklas finally found a place with merchants. He sighed, relieved to see the muted light of neon signs glowing stubbornly through the fog.
He entered the shopping center, following his nose to the nearest restaurant, his mouth watering at the wonderful scents. Niklas read the sign and tried to remember the word pizza from the subliminal disks. A flat disk-like pie made with vegetables or animal flesh. It didn’t sound very appetizing, but it smelled good. He shrugged. It was worth a try.
Paying for it wouldn’t be a problem. Out of necessity, the first place they found was a coin shop that bought gold doubloons. He had several thousand of the strange coins that had been taken from a sunken ship a few hundred years ago. Scout ships often acquired money this way. They used it to purchase items from planets where off world currency wasn’t accepted or would cause unwanted questions, like this one.
The man in the shop had been clearly astonished when faced with the two perfectly preserved Brasher doubloons.
Having turned a peculiar shade of green when Niklas told him he wanted it in cash, he’d laughed. “Cash? What makes you think I have so much here in cash?”
The man produced it, though. The shifty look in his eyes told Niklas the man was taking advantage of him, but he didn’t care. He had more of them, and he needed the money fast.
Briannas Prophecy Page 4