Addictive Paranormal Reads Halloween Box Set Page 8

  “Was that before or after she inferred we’d slept together?”

  “You do have a point there.” She lifted her glass to emphasize her agreement. “But she was perfectly nice at the house earlier. I mean, I didn’t really want to talk to her, but she—”

  “Wait a second—she was here earlier? In this house?”

  “No, Mom and Dad’s. You drove right past her car when you came in. The blue Mercedes?”

  “I remember it; I just didn’t know it was hers.” A chilling thought occurred to him, and his gaze jerked to the window. He sat up as his heart rate took off. “Is she still here?”

  “Mom said she wasn’t feeling well and went home right after I left to come see you.”

  Right after he’d seen the ghost of Alianna in the water. There was a connection there, he was sure of it, so why couldn’t he locate all the dots?

  “Okay, I’ve been thinking…” She quickly raised her hand. “But hear me out so I don’t lose my train of thought.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Now, I’m not saying I believe any of what you’ve proposed, but if it were true, the whole thing really doesn’t make any sense. According to the legend, Alianna and James loved each other, but were kept apart by Elizabeth’s love spell. If Alianna is the ghost, why does whoever looks like her keep drowning?”

  She was right, that didn’t add up. Besides which, it’d just dawned on him that reincarnation required a soul. If the ghost was real—and he’d seen it—how was Alianna’s soul reborn each time?

  Unless…the vision of the ghost was nothing more than a suggestion that had required fuel to become a legend unto itself.

  “And tell me this,” Ali continued after another gulp of wine. “Why would she drown James in each lifetime if she loves him?”

  Like a point of light in the darkness, the last dot burst forth, allowing him to connect the full circle.

  “You’re absolutely right. Alianna wouldn’t, but Elizabeth would.”

  “But Alianna’s the ghost. You said she’s the one that lures people in.”

  Ryan shot to his feet and began to pace behind the couch as the pieces fell into place. “She’s the lure all right, but only because Elizabeth has managed to strengthen the legend for all these years.”

  He stopped and stared out at the pond. Fielding had been at the main house when he chanted Alianna’s name. Had she somehow heard him and made the face appear in the water below? And hadn’t Ali said her mom and Liz had saved her when she was a child?

  The vision was connected to the name, that much was clear. And both times, Liz was around when the name was said. “I don’t think we should say her name anymore. I think it gives her power.”

  “Elizabeth or Alianna?”

  “Either one. Both.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Ali lower her nearly empty glass. “Can we call her She Who Should Not Be Named?” She giggled at her reference to Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter books.

  Ryan rejoined her on the couch and removed the glass from her hand. “I’m serious, Ali.”

  “Okay.”

  Her grin told him he’d be lucky if she remembered half of this conversation in the morning. Maybe this was better anyway. Let her sleep on it, and they could have a more rational discussion in the light of day. Saturday morning meant neither of them had a class to rush off to.

  He took hold of her hands and pulled her to her feet. “You know, it’s getting late. It might not be a bad idea to get you to bed.”

  She swayed and leaned against his chest. “I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

  “Kinda figured,” he said with a soft chuckle.

  “I want to be sober my first time.”

  Confirmation of her lack of experience sobered him up quick, but he still teased, “Liquor really loosens your tongue, doesn’t it?”

  “Yep. I don’t usually drink much.”

  “Good thing.” He steered her toward the hall. “Come on, show me where I’m sleeping.”

  She pointed out his room and even offered a toothbrush and towel for his turn in the bathroom. While she brushed her teeth, he located some ibuprofen in her medicine cabinet to help lessen her hangover in the morning. After insisting she drink a full glass of water with the medicine, he said goodnight with a kiss on the forehead. Then he shut her bedroom door between them before the urge to kiss her lips demolished all his gentlemanly intentions.

  A quick turn around the house secured all the windows and doors. He found himself standing in front of the window where Ali had seen the figure. Had she imagined a shadow—maybe a tree limb swaying in the breeze? Or had Elizabeth Fielding been watching them?

  It seemed ridiculous that the sophisticated professor would skulk around and peep in windows, and yet the possibility chilled him almost as much as his submersion beneath the water.

  He double checked the lock on the window, and then fought the urge to look back over his shoulder on his way to the guest bedroom. All was silent from Ali’s room, so after brushing his teeth, he stripped down to his boxers and slid between the cool sheets. His mind whirled with everything that’d happened in the past twenty-four hours. Though completely exhausted, he doubted he’d get much sleep.

  Fifteen minutes later, he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. A muffled noise jerked his attention to the open door. The shadow in the hall jolted him upright in bed a split second before Ali knocked on the doorjamb.

  “Ryan? Are you awake?”

  A deep breath eased his racing pulse. “Yeah.”

  “Can I…can I sleep in here with you?”

  “What’s the matter?” He swept the covers aside and swung his feet to the floor, but she was already halfway to the bed.

  “Just before we met, I had a dream that I drowned.” A tremor shook her soft voice. “I’m afraid I might dream tonight, and I don’t want to be alone.”

  She ended the sentence in his arms, her cheek on his bare shoulder. He held her close with one hand while smoothing her hair with the other. “You don’t have to be alone, Ali. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Now or ever.

  “Thank you.”

  He rubbed his hands down her arms before sliding back onto the far side of the bed. She crawled in alongside him and snuggled close to his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He curled his arm around her as she slid her palm across his chest until it rested right over his heart. The even cadence of her breathing spoke of her complete trust and left him humbled—until his other senses came alive.

  Heat radiated from her slim body, heightening the airy floral scent he now associated with her. One leg brushed against his, the silk of her pajama pants a sensual glide against his skin. A soft murmur of contentment made him wonder what sounds she’d make in the height of passion. His body’s instant reaction to that thought made him bite back a low groan before he drew in a deep, silent breath.

  In the quiet, he murmured, “You know yesterday, when I pulled you from in front of that car?”

  “You swept me off my feet.”

  “That’s how we first met. Back in the first life.” He would’ve added more, but her hand rose up and practically smacked him in the face.

  “Shh.” Once her fingers found his mouth, she held them across his lips in the darkness. “No more tonight.”

  He sighed. “Goodnight, Ali.”

  “Night, James.”

  The name came out on a faded whisper, but his heart still skipped a beat.

  Yeah, definitely no sleep tonight.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 12

  Ali awoke in a cocoon of warmth. She registered the heat of another person next to her in bed, but after an initial stillness of her muscles, the brief apprehension faded. Especially when she turned her head and saw Ryan’s face relaxed in slumber, his hair tousled across his forehead. Though she only had a vague memory of coming into his room, her sense of protection was as clear and strong now as it had been last night.

  She�
��d dreamed of a man named James. A man who was gentle and kind and loving. He made her laugh, and she’d felt cherished for the first time in her life. Ali frowned at that last thought. Her parents were wonderful. Never once had she ever felt unloved.

  Bits and pieces of her dreams replayed in her mind, interwoven with snippets of her conversations with Ryan. Was she truly remembering a past life, or was it all because of the suggestion he’d planted in her subconscious?

  She needed time to think, and it wasn’t going to happen with her thoughts enshrouded in fog and her mouth all cottony from the excess wine she’d consumed. Thank God Ryan had insisted she take something and drink some water before bed, or she’d have a pounding headache to boot.

  After one last, lingering look at his stubble-covered jaw, slightly parted lips, and the thick sable lashes resting against his cheeks, she gingerly slid from the bed. When he didn’t stir, she closed the door behind her.

  Ali hurried through a shower and dressed before heading into the kitchen. The coffee had brewed and their breakfast of bacon, hash browns and eggs was halfway done when she heard the sound of the water in the guest bathroom. In her imagination, he sluiced his hair back under the hot spray, then ran soapy hands over his muscled chest and lower. She didn’t realize her hand had dipped until the frying pan seared her finger.

  With a hissed-in breath, she reached over and turned on the faucet. Heat rose in her face as the cold water eased the pain.

  A few minutes later, Ryan joined her in the kitchen. He hadn’t shaved, and she was struck once again by how much the stubble enhanced his good looks. She’d never been a fan of the rugged look, until him.

  “Morning.” He gave an appreciative sniff. “It smells awesome in here.”

  “Thanks. It’s almost done if you want to grab some coffee or juice.”

  He filled the mug she’d set by the coffee maker for him, then stirred in his two spoonfuls of sugar while leaning against the counter. Anxiety tightened her insides as she wondered where they stood after last night—especially since she was pretty sure her drunken self had revealed she was a virgin. Would he look for an excuse to cut and run? Or would their invisible link remain intact?

  On a different subject, what if he pressured her to believe in the ghost and reincarnations when she still wasn’t certain of anything?

  “Are we good this morning?”

  She glanced up from her whirling thoughts, positive by now that he could somehow read her mind. He seemed to be seeking reassurance, so she set aside her insecurities and replied, “Of course we are. Why?”

  He shrugged, his smile turning a bit sheepish. “I figured we were okay when you didn’t wake me up and tell me to get the hell out, but wasn’t completely sure.”

  “Well, I’m still not convinced of your complete sanity”—or mine—“but other than that, we’re just fine.”

  He set his mug on the counter and moved closer to take her into his arms, spatula and all. “Good. Because no matter what you believe, I just want you to be safe. And happy.”

  She rose up on her tiptoes to press her mouth to his. Sweetened coffee lingered on his lips and tongue, teasing her taste buds as he gathered her close to deepen the kiss. She succumbed to the moment, reveling in the heady sensation of his hard body against hers until he broke the connection, his breathing as uneven as hers.

  “For the record, I am happy,” she said.

  A shadow crossed his face, but he quickly smiled. “Me, too. And hungry. Where are your dishes so I can set the table for breakfast?”

  She pointed out the cupboard and silverware drawer. He took hold of her hand and rubbed his thumb over the Band-Aid she’d wrapped around her finger.

  “What happened here?”

  Her face warmed when she recalled the reason for her distraction. “Nothing. Just a little burn. Grab me those plates, please. This is done.”

  He handed the dishes to her and she filled them so they could sit in her sunshine-filled breakfast nook. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “I have a few papers to get started,” he told her as he picked up his fork. “But they’re not due for a few weeks yet, so no rush. You?”

  “I have one paper to finish and want to get started on a creative writing assignment due Wednesday.”

  He frowned down at his plate, fork tines stabbed into his scrambled eggs. “I don’t like you around her.”

  “Ryan, class is in broad daylight with a whole group of people. I’ll be fine.”

  He nodded and ate a bite. While he chewed, she decided it was the perfect time to change the subject.

  “So…anyway, my mom wants to meet you, and asked us to dinner tonight. What do you think? Too soon?”

  “I’ve already met your dad and spent the night,” he said with a small shrug. “Meeting your mom seems the next logical step.”

  Relief flooded through her at his easy acceptance, and she teased, “You and logical in the same sentence?”

  “Once in a while it happens,” he shot back.

  They shared another smile and she enjoyed the normalcy of their morning. Neither of them brought up ghosts or reincarnation, and when breakfast was over, Ryan gave her a very thorough goodbye kiss and a promise to be back by six. When he waved on his drive out, she acknowledged a small piece of her heart went with him.

  Ali made a valiant attempt to focus on schoolwork, but after an hour, she gave up and shut her laptop. Just as quick, she opened it again and brought up some of the articles they’d viewed last night. She re-read them all, and while she couldn’t overlook the coincidences, in the light of day, without Ryan’s conviction right beside her, she had a hard time believing his theory was possible.

  There was a link in the last article that took her to a website all about witchcraft. As she perused the pages and the online store, a particular necklace caught her attention.

  Pleasure Fairy*: Formed in the shape of a sinuous and lithe butterfly-winged fairy, this amulet is intended as a representation of enchantment, mystery, passion and all the other powers and emotions wrapped up in that strange sensation we call pleasure.

  A tingle of exhilaration coursed through her just from reading the description. She clicked the link for a bigger picture. The butterfly wings and sensual figure were so familiar, yet she had nothing like it in her jewelry box. Then she remembered—Liz had been wearing something very similar when she ran into her right outside the coffee shop.

  The day Ryan said she’d hit on him.

  Ali made a face and moved on. A few clicks later, she paused at another amulet cast in pewter, titled Lover’s Embrace*. It wasn’t something she’d normally wear, but the two figures intertwined together spoke to her on a level she couldn’t quite explain. They reminded her of how she’d trusted Ryan last night. He’d held her safe and protected; let her sleep without fear of nightmares. Warmth suffused her face at the thought of deepening their connection and becoming intimate in every way possible.

  According to the website, the amulet’s energy was intended to evoke the power and vision possessed by lovers alone.

  On impulse, she added a number two into the little quantity box and placed an order. Realizing the decision she’d just made brought heat back to her face despite the fact she was completely alone. She quickly shut the computer for good.

  A glance at the time reminded her to call her parents about dinner, but the sunshine outside convinced her to walk across the lawn for some fresh air instead of using the phone.

  Compared to yesterday’s blustery wind, today’s light breeze caressed her cheeks, and she lifted her face toward the warming rays of the sun.

  In the very top eave of her parents’ house, the lone attic window was a black square in the shadows. Her step faltered and she came to a stop. That elusive memory from last night was suddenly within her grasp.

  Her ten-year-old self stood in the attic with a simple composition notebook in hand. She’d read a couple pages, pages hand written with ink smudged from what even h
er young eyes could tell were tears stains. The Still Waters Ghost had been in those pages, and something about witchcraft. Before she could read further, though, her mother had appeared and snatched the book from her fingers. She’d screamed at her to leave things that didn’t belong to her alone and told her to get out.

  Fighting tears, her younger self had rushed for the stairs, only something made her pause on her way down, and she’d peaked back to see where her mother hid the journal. Unfortunately, she’d never been allowed in the attic again. And after what happened in the pond, the journal memory had been buried with the rest.

  Ali continued to the main house, her step quicker than before. As usual, she rang the bell first, then opened the door and called out a hello. Her mother stepped from the kitchen while drying her hands on her apron. The perfect picture of a contented housewife.

  “Well, good morning to you.” She tilted her head and gave Ali a secretive little smile. “Was that Ryan’s vehicle I saw leaving this morning?”

  “Nothing happened, Mom.” Even so, she felt her cheeks warm.

  Her mother grinned. “Honey, I don’t judge. How do you think your father and I got together? You were conceived just a couple weeks after we met.”

  Ali covered her ears. “More than I want to know.”

  “Relax, I’ll spare you the details.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped forward to give her mother a hug and kiss on the cheek. “By the way, Ryan said thank you for the dinner invitation and he’d love to meet you. Is tonight okay?”

  “Ooh, I like this boy already. Tonight is fine. Come join me in the kitchen while I finish up a couple apple pies. We’ll have one for dessert.”

  “I wish I could, but I’m doing some research for my next creative writing assignment.” She clasped her hands together, suddenly nervous at the little white lie. But maybe she would find something to write about. One never knew. “Can I dig around in the attic for awhile?”

  A frown creased her mother’s brow.

  “Dad said he put a bunch of his old football stuff up there last year,” she quickly added. “Newspaper clippings and Sports Illustrated magazines.”