Draycott Eternal: What Dreams May ComeSeason of Wishes Page 10

  Home again at last. Together. Just where they were always meant to be.

  And neither time nor fate, Adrian swore, would ever separate them again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SOFT AND DARK, HIS LAUGHTER welcomed her back, cushioned her fall into flesh and weight and earthbound gravity. Gray opened her eyes.

  “Adrian, I—”

  But before the first doubts could intrude, before the first fears could rear their ugly heads, he pulled her beneath him and loosed the joy anew.

  Silver ripples of pleasure lapped and surged and broke over Gray’s exquisitely sensitized body.

  “A-again?” She shivered, her eyes smoky, dazed, luminous with love and inquiry. “You—you can’t!”

  Smiling darkly, he brushed the crown of one upswept, silken breast, delighting in her instant tremor of response. “Eight hundred years is a long time to wait, sweeting. I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive my intemperance…”

  Fire burst from the dusky crest where his clever lips foraged and suckled. “Forgive?” Gray shuddered, arching mindlessly as the wild pleasure grew. “Sweet heaven, for th-this?”

  His laughter rumbled over the glade and suddenly it was as if night had fled and light gleamed silver over vine and bough and wave. It was the same world, the same night, Gray thought dimly, and yet both were entirely different now.

  Somewhere in the dark woods beyond the glade, distant bells began to peal, low and faint.

  Adrian stiffened, flinging back his head, feeling the first raw pangs of despair.

  No! Not so soon!

  “Not yet,” Adrian breathed hoarsely, struggling to hold back the transformation. “Not bloody yet…”

  But already he felt it. Even without looking, he knew his body had the faint glow that signaled the coming change.

  No, not yet! By heaven and all the saints, it was too soon!

  He shuddered, clenching his hands and holding her close, letting the sweet tide of her passion wash over him. He watched her gasp, felt her long legs wrap around him as she rode down into ecstasy.

  “Ah, Gray, so good…” He caught a strand of hair and eased it from her cheek, drinking in the beauty of her wild response.

  And then Adrian saw his fingers begin to gleam where bone and tendon shifted and strained.

  More time. Please—just a little more time.

  But words would change nothing. The high clear music was in his ears, resonating through his shifting body.

  Calling him home.

  No! he screamed in desperate silence. This is home. Where she is will always be my home!

  The tones sharpened, vibration turning to a low thunder.

  And as Adrian stared down at Gray’s beautiful features, he saw his hand begin to glow, saw right through his skin to the rapidly fading outline of his bone.

  Sweat dripped from his brow. He caught her fiercely, drinking in her last, breathless cries, memorizing the rhythm of her wild tremors.

  Desperately, he fought the call, strained to hold his slipping atoms tight-packed, dense, earthbound.

  But it was impossible. The ringing grew, plunging into his blood, turning liquid into shimmering networks of light.

  “Gray—” His voice was raw. “Gray, I—must go.”

  She only shivered, tightening her grip on his shoulders.

  Gritting his teeth, Adrian pulled from her sweet heat, struggling against the transformation that threatened to come any second. “You—you, too, must go, sweeting. There is danger growing, and I want you safe until it’s over.”

  At that, her eyes finally opened, dark with sated passion.

  And then those azure eyes widened. Gray tensed, seeing the light that gleamed over Adrian’s face and chest and shoulders. Wildly, she reached out for him, only to stare disbelievingly as her fingers slid right through the shimmering mass that only seconds before had been his arm and chest.

  “N-no!” It was a ragged cry of shock.

  Grim-faced, Adrian fell to his knees beside her. By a savage force of will, he drove the blinding radiance back to a dim phosphorescence. “I—love you, Gray Mackenzie. Never—never doubt that. And by all the heavens above, I’ll—come back to you. This…I swear.”

  Gray stifled a sob, pressing her fingers to her mouth as she watched him sway and waver before her. “You can’t be—dear God, this can’t be real!”

  But it was. Even the brightness of his body was fading. She could see a glowing outline at his shoulders and head.

  “The…the boat’s moored by the far bank.” His voice was barely a whisper now. “Gideon…waiting…”

  “Adrian! No, don’t go!” Gray’s trembling hands locked across her chest as she watched him shimmer, then swirl apart into waves of purest light.

  For a moment, his eyes darkened, fixed on her terrified face. “Wait for me,” he whispered. “I’ll—find—you…”

  And then he simply blinked out, like a candle caught in a wayward gust of wind. Where bone and flesh had once stood, haloed in light, there were now only leaden shadows.

  Gray stumbled to her feet, staring blindly at the dark, empty ground where moments before Adrian had stood. “It’s just a trick! You—you’re just trying to frighten me! Aren’t you, Adrian? Tell me, damn you!”

  But no voice rose in answer. The glade was silent, chill, all light fled.

  And somewhere, far away in the distance, Gray heard the faint peal of bells.

  BLINDLY, SHE STUMBLED to her feet and crossed the moss-covered bank, her shawl clutched to her chest. Through a blur of tears she made out Gideon’s dark form, waiting for her beside the little boat.

  For a moment, hysteria surged up through her. It was all a dream, wasn’t it? Or some great, elaborate joke?

  But the faint soreness at her thighs told her that the night had been far more than a heated fantasy. She would have to begin to face that—along with all the rest of the night’s discoveries.

  Including the fact that the man you love is the ghost of Draycott Abbey? Gray bit back a hysterical laugh.

  Where had it gone, all the magic and splendor? Now the night was cold and all her dreams had fled.

  Glittering amber eyes stared up as Gray tugged at the pole and stumbled into the shallow boat. Scrubbing at her tears, she glared at the regal gray form on the bank. “Well, are you coming or not? If I can t-talk to ghosts, I suppose I can talk to a cat!”

  The long gray tail arched and twitched. Gideon’s sleek head turned, staring off into the restless, rustling woods beyond the glade, where Adrian had vanished moments before.

  The cat gave a long, low cry.

  Only silence met him, along with the faint hiss of the wind.

  A moment later Gideon turned and jumped into the boat, his black paws clearing the wooden side effortlessly.

  Shivering, Gray turned and shoved off.

  “There’s something about you, my friend. Something that’s less—and a great deal more—than I’ve ever seen in any other cat.”

  Gray shook her head and turned to focus on the lapping waters. Mist dragged at the boat in spiraling fingers, denser now that the night air had grown colder. At the center of the moat Gray slowed her movements, barely able to see through the swirling bank of mist.

  At her feet, Gideon meowed, gliding up to a perch on the wooden seat as he stared out into the drifting whiteness.

  And then they were through the worst of it, only yards from shore.”

  “There, that wasn’t so bad. I only wish I could feel the same about all the other bizarre things I’ve seen tonight,” Gray muttered, clutching her shawl closer about her shoulders.

  Slowly she poled to the bank, studying the French doors beyond the terrace.

  They were open.

  Fear worked up her neck. She would have sworn she’d left them closed.

  Her hands clenched on the worn wooden pole as the boat hissed to a halt in the mud and sand at the bank. Gray stared up at the gleaming glass panes, feeling panic well up inside her.

>   And the fear was with her again, as blind and wrenching as it had been then, when she first realized Matt was trying to kill her. Because she knew too much.

  A dark shape glided up the bank, and Gray realized that Gideon was making for the open door.

  “Gideon, come back!”

  She heard the faint whoosh of a curtain, then nothing but silence. She tried to move, and felt the fear seize her, hold her helpless, paralyzed.

  But because she had to prove that she was not the same woman she had been, that she had learned to conquer her fear, Gray flung down her pole, jumped to the bank and plunged up to the gatehouse.

  The chill darkness hit her like a fist. Nothing moved in the shadows. “Gideon?”

  She moved forward blindly, hands outstretched.

  Her knee grazed the leg of a chair. Frowning, she turned toward the wall. There was a mustiness to the room that hadn’t been there before, along with a faint, acrid sweetness.

  Her neck prickled with fear.

  Her hand met the silk-covered wall. She found the welcome outline of the light switch and flipped it down.

  The first thing she saw was Gideon, tense as an Egyptian marble statue, hissing softly as he stared at the door of the bathroom. His head cocked; his tail arched.

  Slowly, as if in as dream, Gray moved forward.

  And then she froze, seized by horror that drove the breath from her lungs.

  The dead bird lay on the floor of the bathroom, its dark feathers matted with blood. And on the wall above was scrawled a warning, traced in blood.

  Silly, stupid bitch. Did you really think you could escape me?

  OUT IN THE DARKNESS, the man waited and watched, fury a poison in his mind and blood.

  She could not be allowed to escape him, not again! The beautiful bitch had betrayed him once, but for that, too, she would pay. And for all the rest of her perfidy, he thought furiously, watching her slim shadow cross through the gatehouse.

  The bitch had always valued her silly little scrawls more than she valued him, right from the very beginning. He swore foully, madness seizing him.

  But not much longer, he thought. First he would strip away her pride, and then he’d seize her very sanity.

  Just the way they’d seized his, during those hellish months in prison. He laughed softly.

  Soon you’ll be begging again, Moira. On your knees the way you’re supposed to be.

  Crying. Pleading for me to touch you. Just the way you used to plead.

  And if you don’t, I’ll do to you the same thing I’m going to do to that damned cat of yours.

  CHAPTER NINE

  GRAY STUMBLED BACKWARD, her hands to her nerveless lips. With a wild cry, she caught up her trailing hem and plunged toward the outer door.

  Only inches from the frame she froze, watching the knob turn silently.

  All her worst nightmares came to life.

  “Adrian—dear God, Adrian!”

  Gray spun about, one hand crushed to her mouth. She called his name without knowing it, then saw a tall shadow fall across the terrace. Relief exploded through her. “Adrian, I—”

  But the cry was cut off stillborn.

  Gray saw that it was a different face outside the opened doors. A stranger’s face.

  A man with darkly tanned skin and sun-bleached hair low on his brow. The man from the florist shop in London?

  And then Gray’s throat twisted in a knot of fear as she recognized the furtive movements, the hardened sneer—so familiar, even after five years.

  No, not a stranger at all.

  Just her ex-husband.

  Come to kill her, as he’d promised when they’d pulled him cursing from the crowded courtroom.

  Gray turned and ran for the front door, stumbling against a mahogany side table.

  Adrian! Dear God, come to me now, if you can hear me!

  There was a rustling in the air around her, a tingling at her neck.

  The next moment the glass doors from the terrace gave way with an explosive crash. “Moira? Where are you, dammit? Where are you, my sweet, lying wife?”

  White-faced, Gray inched backward into the darkness of the front alcove, praying that he wouldn’t hear her.

  Behind her, thick shoes crunched over shattered glass. “Clever, weren’t you? Changing your face, your eye color. Taking a new name and a new identity. But I was even more clever, because I did the same—changed my hair, darkened my skin. You see, the thought of finding you was the only thing that kept me alive in that stinking cell.”

  Closer the steps came, even closer. Any second now he would see her!

  “And you can forget about running, my sweet. There’s no one here to help you now, no one here but the two of us. Now it will be just the way it always used to be. And we’re going to do things the same way we did then. You remember, don’t you? How it felt?”

  Gray shoved her fist to her lips to keep from gagging, to keep from screaming. Dear God, the door had to be close now!

  Behind her the flat voice droned on. “I saw the butler drive off hours ago. Even that damned gray cat’s gone. I would have killed him first, but the big devil was too smart, I’ll say that much for him.”

  Her ex-husband’s eyes narrowed, hazed with madness. “You’ll be much easier to kill, my sweet.”

  And then Gray found the cold metal knob. Her heart pounding, she wrenched open the door and plunged into the darkness as an angry growl erupted behind her.

  Where, Adrian? Where are you?

  Steady, sweeting. The words were a mere murmur in her head, a faint warmth at her shoulders.

  But they were there, a lifeline to sanity. Where—where are you? Gray cried raggedly.

  I can’t—be with you, sweeting. Not yet. But circle around to the glade and cross to the south tower. There’s a door there, a very old door. I’ll show you how to find it.

  She obeyed without question or hesitation, trying to shut out the angry curses that followed her as she ran through the moonlit night.

  She made her way past the stables, past the maze and around to the far side of the little glade, guided by Adrian’s silent directions every step of the way. The man behind her crashed on more slowly, having no such guidance.

  And with every step his rage grew. Gray knew the pattern all too well.

  She forced back a sob, stopping at the bank of the moat to listen to the soft night wind, waiting for Adrian’s silent prompting.

  But none came.

  And then on the far bank where the abbey walls rose up straight and sheer from the moat, she saw a sleek gray shadow detach from the night.

  Burning amber eyes rose to greet her.

  “Gideon!”

  Plunging into the water, she swam toward the cat who waited on the bank like a marble sentinel. At that moment a shot rang out, shrieking past her ear and slamming into the water only inches from her head.

  Wildly, Gray churned on, hearing more shots hiss past. Half-blind with fear, she struggled from the water to find Gideon pacing before the tower’s weathered stone base.

  In her terror, Gray had no time to wonder how the great cat came to be there or why she should find the sight of him so comforting.

  Behind her came the splash of a large body hitting water. Gray gritted her teeth against the terror that threatened to shatter her reason. “He—he said there was a door. But where, Gideon?”

  She ran tense fingers over the rough stone, finding no sign of an opening. Abruptly, Gideon darted past her feet.

  “Where is it, Adrian? I—I can’t find it!”

  The voice came from the lapping of the waves, the sigh of the wind. Close your eyes, sweeting. Look with your heart, not your eyes. See my abbey the way it was then, in my picture.

  Desperately Gray scanned the stone base, calling up the image of Adrian’s sketch. And then she remembered that the tower had been slightly off, more rounded than its mate to the north. She ran to the center of the curve, fingers pressed to the rough granite.

  A
nd as she did, she stumbled on a half-hidden vine and pitched to her knees. She cried out as her arm struck the wall with a dull, ringing echo.

  The next moment stone grated against stone. Gray felt the bank beneath her begin to heave.

  And then she was sliding down into a black hole that gaped where once the foundation had stood.

  Warm fur brushed her face as she clawed through the loose, damp earth and stumbled to her feet. “Gideon?” she rasped.

  A faint meow rose in answer.

  Shivering, Gray studied the tunnel that stretched before her, dark and damp. She saw glowing amber pinpoints drift through the shadows at her side and move upward.

  Gray followed blindly, feeling loose dirt give way to hard-packed clay and finally to rough stone steps.

  Up Gray went, her gaze riveted on the amber eyes that gleamed beside her. Ten steps, twenty…until she began to lose count.

  Behind her, an angry cruse exploded up the tunnel. “Dammit, Moira, you can’t hope to get away! Not this time. And this time, by God, you’re going to pay! You’re going to beg and beg!”

  Shuddering, Gray blocked off the sound of that hated voice, the threats she knew too well. Her hands to the cool stone, she circled round and round, climbing ever higher with Gideon right beside her.

  Abruptly the steps came to an end. Her hands met stone, nothing but cold stone on three sides. “—Sweet heaven, what now?”

  The cat meowed softly, sliding past her ankles, while angry curses filtered up the narrow stairway.

  And then Gray felt the familiar tingling at her spine, the soft kiss of an unseen wind.

  Lower, my heart. Down by Gideon…

  Awkwardly, Gray bent down and searched the wall, crying out in triumph when she felt a narrow gap in the stone. But could she manage to fit?

  Ah, we were all a bit smaller then, my heart. But you’ll fit, never fear. And when you’re through, I’ll be there waiting.

  Wildly Gray pushed through the narrow opening, clawing her way across a layer of rough, damp stones. Something dug into her wrist and she flinched as a small, sharp object pricked her skin. As she crawled forward, she felt it snag in the folds of her lace gown.