by Liz Bower
The peacock started to strut towards her, its beak jutting in her direction with each step. It was stalking her. She turned to run as a scream tore from her throat. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw it was gaining on her, its feathers reaching out towards her. She screamed again as her foot caught on something, throwing her hands out in front of her and cursing as they hit the ground hard. She felt the peacock land on her, and she cried out. Oh, God, is it going to kill me?
"Jess. Jess, it's just a dream. Wake up."
She kicked her legs, trying to free them from the clutches of the peacock. She could feel the weight of it on her arm and clawed at it, trying to escape it. When she felt the weight shift, trapping her, she froze.
"Shh, it's me, Rob."
It wasn't real. It hadn't happened. But then the last thing she remembered ran through her mind, and she wriggled her hands free. She pressed them against Rob's warm, hard chest and shoved. "Get off me. Now."
Rob sat back on his knees, releasing her, and she took a shaky breath. She felt something tickle her arm; looking down, she saw feathers scattered across her bed. She glanced at Rob, but he'd seen them too. He picked one up and pulled it through his thumb and index finger over and over. She wasn't sure how long they sat like that, surrounded by silence and unanswered questions.
Rob climbed off the bed and left her room, still holding the feather. She sat there, hands wrapped around her knees, listening as he made his way downstairs. Silence surrounded her again, and she felt like the feathers were mocking her. She jumped off the bed, not wanting to be with Rob but definitely not wanting to be alone.
Wrapping a dressing gown tightly around her, she headed downstairs. Rob was sitting on the sofa, Emma's bedding beneath him. He was still playing with the bloody feather, but her gaze was drawn to his muscled arms as they flexed. She could feel the heat in her cheeks as she realised he was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. "Put some clothes on, can't you. And what are you still doing here, anyway?" she called over her shoulder, as she made her way into the kitchen.
He didn't reply, but as she switched the kettle on, she heard the scrape of a kitchen chair across the floor. Turning, she saw him sprawled on a chair, toned legs sprinkled with black hairs spread wide. Her gaze skipped over his tight black boxer shorts, but she noticed the fine trail of hair leading up to his navel. A navel that gave way to defined abs and the biggest pecs she'd ever seen in real life. His nipples were hard, and one was pierced with a silver bar that glinted under the bright kitchen lights. An image of her teasing it with her tongue, taking the metal between her teeth and tugging it, ran through her mind. She shook her head to try to rid herself of the thought. What is wrong with me? She lifted her gaze to his face, turning her back on him when she saw the smug grin. So she'd been caught checking him out. Wasn't like she was going to do anything about it. It was like admiring a piece of art, she told herself. That was all.
"You wake up screaming, surrounded by feathers, and the first question you ask is what am I still doing here?"
He had a point, but it was easier to concentrate on that than think about her vision. "Yes. And most people wait until they're invited before staying the night." She stabbed the teaspoon into the coffee jar and tried to ignore the way her hand was still shaking.
When she heard the chair scrape again, she grabbed hold of the worktop. She could sense him behind her, not close enough to touch her, but her body tensed in response. His hands rested on the worktop on either side of her, trapping her between his arms. She turned around, pushing at his chest to move him away, but it was like pushing on a locked door, all hard and unyielding beneath her palms. He grabbed her wrists but left her hands on his chest.
"Most people would thank me for putting them to bed. Most people would be grateful I was there when they woke up scared."
She jerked her hands back, and he released her wrists. Pacing away from him, she turned back to face him, her hands held out wide. "Well, I'm not most people, Rob. I'm sorry I didn't fall at your feet in gratitude for you carrying me upstairs. I'm sorry I didn't gush at you for still being there when I woke up. I'm sorry, but I'm not one of your adoring fan girls, ready to fall into bed with you after one look. I have more self-respect for myself. Call me frigid if you want, but I call it self-preservation." Jess took a deep breath, her chest heaving rapidly from her tirade.
Rob stared at her for an uncomfortable moment before he turned and left the kitchen without a word. After he'd left, Jess bent over the table, trying to catch her breath. She hadn't meant to say all that. Maybe she went too far, from the look of hurt on Rob's face. Her head shot up when she heard the click of the front door. She ran into the living room, but Rob was gone, and so was his pile of clothes. She dropped onto the sofa, her head in her hands.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Rob couldn't believe the bullshit Jess was spewing, and when the hell had he ever called her frigid? She could come across as cold sometimes, his ice princess, but he knew she wasn't like that really. He knew it was just a way for her to hide. But right then, he didn't want to make excuses for her. After that little rant, he didn't have anything he wanted to say to her. He had honestly just wanted to make sure she was okay, and that was the thanks he got?
He walked out of the kitchen, picked up his jeans from the sofa, and dragged them over his hips. The more he thought about her words, the angrier he got. Does she not know me at all?
Pulling the front door closed behind him, he sat down on the doorstep, leaning back against the door. He didn't want to go home at this time of night, and no matter what she said, he didn't want to leave her on her own. She had looked terrified before she woke up. Maybe it was easier to lash out at him than deal with whatever had been going on in her head.
He fell back as the door suddenly opened, and he heard Jess's gasp of surprise. But it was his turn to be surprised when she sat down next to him.
"I'm sorry ... for what I said."
He nudged her knee with his, and when she looked at him, he gave her a small smile. "It's okay."
"I didn't mean it, and I'm sorry. Well, not about the adoring fan girl bit, because I'm not."
He laughed and shook his head. "What adoring fan girls? Maybe you need to introduce me to them—oof, you have really bony elbows!" he said, as she jabbed one into his side.
"I made you a coffee. Are you going to come back inside?"
He stood and held out a hand to her. When she placed her hand in his, he pulled her to her feet. He followed her back into the living room, where she sat on one corner of the sofa, and draped a blanket around her. Wrapping his hands around the coffee cup to warm them, he took a small sip of the steaming liquid.
The feather he'd brought downstairs was on the coffee table, and he stared at it, waiting for her to say something.
"I'm sorry."
She said it so quietly, he wondered if she was even saying it to him, but he answered her anyway. "I know."
"It's just ... You were there, and you were laughing with them. At me."
He turned to face her as her voice broke over the last words. Watched as the first tear fell. "Damn it." He set his cup down and slowly put an arm around her shoulders, just in case she pushed him away again. "Don't cry, Jess. Where was I?"
She leaned against his shoulder, and he tightened his hold around her, wishing he could just pull her onto his lap, wrap her up in his arms.
"In my vision."
"What happened?" he asked, gently rubbing his thumb along her collarbone.
"I was down by Alt Hall. Except it wasn't there. It was just fields. Fields and a peacock." She stopped and took a deep breath. He took her hand in his, and she gripped it tightly. "It was like it was taunting me as it spread its feathers. They had eyes that just kept staring at me, hundreds of them glaring at me. And I thought it was going to attack me. So I ran, but then I fell. When I looked up, it wasn't a peacock."
Her nails dug into his hand, and he brushed his thumb across her wrist. He could feel
the frantic beating of her pulse beneath it. "What was it, Jess?"
"It ..." She pulled back from him and said, "It was you."
His eyebrows drew together at those three words. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"You were standing there, looking down at me where I'd fallen, and you were laughing at me. But you weren't alone. You had ..."
He waited for her to carry on, giving her shoulder a squeeze to encourage her. "I had what, Jess?"
"You had hundreds of women around you, draped over you, and they were all staring at me and laughing too."
He heard her sob and thought, Screw it. He pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her as she cried. The sound tore at his heart, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Please don't cry, angel." He ran his hand down her hair and pressed her head to his chest. "Please don't cry," he said again. Gently, he rocked her in his arms and kissed her forehead.
***
Jess held herself completely still and slowly opened her eyes. Sliding her gaze to the side, she saw a toned chest sprinkled with a few dark hairs; farther up, red lips curved into a smile. Slowly, she let out a breath, as parts of the previous night came back to her. Pulling her arm free, she slid towards the edge of the bed, trying not to wake Rob. As she pulled back the covers, she muttered her thanks, as she saw she still had her pyjamas on.
"Morning."
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his smile was now a grin, and the feelings from the night’s vision hit her hard. "Why are you in my bed?"
"Don't you remember?" he asked, his smile fading a little.
"Obviously, I don't, or I wouldn't be asking." He sat up against the headboard, the sheet falling around his waist, and she dragged her gaze away from his chest.
"You were upset. When I carried you upstairs, you ... you asked me to stay because you didn't want to be alone."
He was being kind with the word “asked,” as she remembered clinging to him, practically begging him to stay. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She needed space, needed to get away from him. "Mmm, thanks. I'll go put some coffee on."
"Jess ..."
But she was already out the door and bounding down the stairs.
Staring out the kitchen window, she sipped her coffee. She heard Rob pour himself a cup, but didn't acknowledge him. She couldn't believe she'd asked him to share her bed. How disappointed he must have been when he realised she only meant to sleep.
"I don't have to go into work until late this afternoon. I was ... I wondered if you'd mind if I came with you all, to see James."
Why? Why wasn't he running from the house as fast as he could? Tipping her cup back, she drained the dregs of her coffee and went to get a refill. "If you want to. It's not up to me. And you know Matt and Emma already think you're involved somehow."
"Jess."
She looked up at him as he held her wrist, his fingers curled around it. She was being a bitch, she knew, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. They might have shared a bed, but she was just Matt's sister to him; she didn't need to hear the brush-off story. She was just someone he had to look out for; she already knew that. When he just shook his head, she pulled her arm free, heading upstairs for a shower.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jess had done a really good job at avoiding him for the rest of the morning. He wanted to talk to her, but he just wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to say. He rubbed his fingers across the back of his neck, frustrated that he couldn't say anything at the moment anyway.
Emma had turned up with enough food to feed half the village, and now they were on their way to collect Matt from the museum, so they could all go speak to James. And Jess was doing a great impression of him not even existing, avoiding eye contact—hell, any kind of contact. Anyone would think his touch burned the way she pulled her hand away from him so fast.
He was confused; she'd done a complete turnaround. She was acting like the ice queen she had been when she first met him. But he knew that wasn't who she was, and he didn't know what he'd done for her to be like this.
"Hey, rabbit."
Rob looked up at the words to see Jess engulfed in a hug by James. He guessed James wouldn't be too happy knowing where Jess had slept the previous night, never mind what Matt would think. He was beginning to think the whole night had been a big mistake, or maybe he had imagined it all. But Jess wouldn't want to share, so maybe it could just stay between the two of them, never to be mentioned again. That seemed to be what Jess wanted, anyway.
***
Jess wrapped her arms around James and squeezed him hard. She loved Matt, but he always managed to wind her up. James was always there for her, always stood up for her. When she thought she'd lost him ... She couldn't even finish that sentence in her head. Instead, she kissed his cheek as he put her back on her feet.
She and Emma set out the buffet-style lunch for everyone, and Jess smiled, noticing that James had at least attempted to clean up the place before they arrived.
After lunch, talk turned serious. Matt took the lead, which was unusual when James was around, but Jess guessed they'd all have to do a little adjusting. At that idea, her gaze flicked in Rob's direction; maybe she needed to do a little adjusting where he was concerned too. She knew he wanted to talk, but maybe if she just gave out the friend vibe, he'd realise they didn't need that talk after all.
"So, as far as we can tell, this ... this thing can take on different forms. When it attacked me, it looked like a panther, yet when it attacked Ems, it disguised itself as a sheep. But when we were both there together, it started out as a panther. Then, when Ems hurt it, it turned into ..." Matt looked at Emma, his hand on her thigh.
"It was just bones," Emma said. "Bones, dripping in this green liquid. And the smell, oh!"
"But it's not just the attacks. The visions that Ems had ..." Matt gave her a goofy grin, which made Jess smile. "I think her visions helped us get together. We certainly wouldn't have met so soon if she hadn't come to the museum that day. But they also helped us to find you, James. It's like two sides of the same puzzle. The visions are trying to help us, while this monster is trying to stop us. I think."
"Help us or stop us from doing what, exactly?" James asked, leaning forward in his chair towards Matt.
"That's the bit I'm not exactly sure on."
James turned to look at Jess, and she fidgeted under his gaze. "And what about you?"
"What about me?" Jess said, as Emma gently nudged her shoulder. Jess leaned forward and glared at Matt. "I haven't been attacked, and neither has anyone else since you two tried to kill it. My visions, if that's what you want to call them, didn't lead us to James. They haven't got me back together with Miles or with ..." She glanced at Rob. His jaw was clenched, the muscle above it ticking as his lips pressed together in a thin line. She looked back at James instead and added, "Or with anybody else."
"Maybe it's just too soon," Emma said, patting Jess's leg. "Mine changed over time, like yours are, from being chased in Altenbury Hall to being in the fields."
Jess didn't reply. She didn't know what to say.
"You might be right, Ems, but I think the cemetery has something to do with it too. There's a Roman theme to the visions. Well, Emma's at least," Matt said, when Jess turned to glare at him again. "But I had my first vision there, about Gran. We found James in the vault—"
"And my first vision, when I moved back, was about the oak tree there," Emma almost shouted.
James ran his finger along the bridge of his nose, his lips pulled up to one side. "I did some research on the head in the oak tree, but couldn't find much. It just appeared one day, but apparently it's supposed to keep ghosts away or something like that. I remember giving up on it because I thought it was a waste of time, just old ghost stories."
"Oh," Emma said, as she slumped in disappointment. "I wonder why it was in my vision then."
"Maybe because it's related to our family?" James replied.
"Yeah, that would make sense, I
guess."
"Look, the way I see it, we need to know what we're dealing with."
"If we're still dealing with anything. Who says it's not all over now?" Jess said, looking from Matt to James.
But it was Emma who answered. "Because, while we might have hurt it, we didn't kill it. And as much as I'd love it to be true, I don't think it just wanted to scare us with a few attacks. And don't forget it also attacked your gran."
"What?" James asked.
"My vision was of Gran. She had the same raised, red marks on her skin," Matt said. "We found her diaries and letters, where she mentioned being attacked several times, and it killed her friend."
Jess didn't want to admit it, but Emma was right. This thing was back, and whatever its plan was, it definitely had one.
And she feared it was only just beginning.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rob listened to the four of them calmly discuss some unnamed monster and couldn't believe he hadn't known about this sooner. He'd known Matt was worried about his brother, but he hadn't really believed anything had happened to him. But now, listening to what they knew, Rob realised James was lucky to be sitting there. With Jess busy arguing with Emma, he took the opportunity to just watch her. He liked her, had been attracted to her since the first time he'd met her, but why now? After knowing her for years, why did he now want to be more than just her brother's friend? Why did he find himself wanting to wake up with her warm body pressed against his again in the morning? He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
The previous night had been a mistake. The last thing either of them needed was distractions—they had an enemy to fight. He snorted at that; from the way Jess had acted that morning, the last thing she wanted was him.
"What?"
Matt's question brought his thoughts back to the room, as all four of them stared at him. So he coughed because he had no idea what they'd been talking about. He held up his hands and coughed again. "Sorry, just swallowed the wrong way."
