by Sylvie Kurtz
Once astride Eclipse’s back, she rode until her muscles ached and her will could no longer contain her sorrow. Falling forward on the horse’s mane, wrapping her arms around his neck, she let her tears cleanse her shattered soul.
TYLER DROVE AWAY feeling as if a part of him had died. The emptiness, the aching hole inside him, was greater than when Lindsey had died. He heard the whiskey demon whisper in his ear, felt it tickle his throat. He white-knuckled the steering wheel and concentrated hard on the road.
The events of the past few weeks had shown him that he’d looked for the truth in the wrong place. After a restless night of soul-searching, he’d finally understood that he’d committed the greatest lie of all. He’d lied to himself. He’d chased the scoop. He’d chased the glory. He’d chased the limelight. And in doing so, he’d prostituted the very ideals that had brought him to journalism.
It was that need for success that had killed Lindsey, he realized. He would forever have to bear that mark on his soul, but he couldn’t change the outcome. Lindsey was dead. To give her life meaning, he had to let her go and move on. Moving on meant facing the ugliness inside him so he could find his own truth.
So he’d bared his soul in that article, exposed the beast inside him for Melissa, for the world, to see. It was his gift to her, and she’d thrown it in his face.
In the rearview mirror, he glanced at the gray stone walls, at the crumbling towers and down at the moat filled with dark green water. It was her home. Her protective shell. Her world. What right did he have to ask her to change the only constant in her life? He hit the steering wheel with a force that sent pain shooting through his wrist.
Truth shone its own light. He couldn’t force her to look at something she didn’t want to see any more than he could go back and live another lie.
RAY HAD EASILY MADE bail. After all, it was the big fish everyone wanted, not what they considered pond scum. He’d waited patiently. He’d sent the pictures. He’d sent the college paper and the clippings. Generously he’d allowed Blackwell more than a week to pull the story together. Something of this magnitude was entitled to front cover coverage. Something this big deserved a speedy exposure.
When the next issue of Texas Gold hit the stands, he was the first one to buy a copy.
The reporter had failed him.
Ray had thought Blackwell understood. Manipulated out of a story last year when his wife was killed, Blackwell should want to leave no stone unturned to advertise the truth for all to see. Ray had counted on that deep-seated need for redress. Instead of reporting the fall from grace, Blackwell had let others steal his exclusive—and in the process the most important nugget was missed.
None of this story would be possible without his father’s invention. William wouldn’t have bought his first job with the idea he’d stolen from Royal Lundy. Randall’s company wouldn’t have had the instrument that had bolstered the rest of his inept attempts to dominate the field.
Crumpling the issue in his hands, Ray strode to his truck. He would have what was his. No one would cheat him out of his due.
Power. There was nothing to beat sheer power. He had it. He’d use it.
J’adoube. I adjust.
The board was down to three pieces. No one could stop him from queening his pawn and winning the game.
Chapter Sixteen
Melissa stared at the stick in her hand. Positive.
She was pregnant.
She should be happy. Ecstatic. On top of the world. She was going to have a baby. She was going to be a mother. She was going to have responsibility for a child’s life. Love. Her hand covered the front of her jeans and rubbed small circles. Alone. Without Grace, who was still comatose. Without Deanna, who would surely disapprove. Without the baby’s father, who found her beast-ugly.
This baby was a dream come true, and yet the dream was tarnished by the terrible black hole Tyler’s departure had caused. Instead of the flush of pleasure, the cold rime of dread filled her.
A soft knock rapped against the bathroom door, and Dee cleared her throat before she spoke. “Melissa? Is everything all right?”
Everything should be right, but everything was wrong.
“Come out, Mel. Please.”
Melissa stuffed the stick into the remnants of the kit and tossed both into the wastebasket. She strode past Dee, out of her bedroom and into her studio. Pencil to paper, she made lines without care to their purpose.
“Are you all right?” Dee asked, leaning against the door frame.
“I’m just fine.” Melissa bent to her task. The last thing she needed was a dose of Dee’s sympathy. “If you don’t mind, I’m busy right now.”
“So,” Dee said, “that’s how it’s going to be?”
“How what is going to be?” The pencil bit deeply into the paper, making a groove.
“I’m sick and tired of your moping around. That’s all you’ve done since you threw Tyler out. You’re acting like a spoiled brat, and I’ve had just about enough of it.”
Melissa gritted her teeth. “This is my home and I’ll act any way I want.”
“Oh, that’s rich.” Dee snorted. “You’re going to have a baby and you’re acting like one. Who’s going to raise you both?”
Melissa’s eyebrows shot up.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Dee said. “You asked me to buy you the kit. You didn’t think I’d leave you alone to bear the news, did you?”
Melissa wanted to cry. She always wanted to cry these days. “Get out.”
“That’s right. Throw away the last friend you have.”
Melissa’s pencil stilled. She shot Dee a stabbing look. She wanted to hurt someone as much as she was hurting. “Friend? A friend doesn’t betray you.”
Dee’s voice softened, and that grated on Melissa’s nerves more than Dee’s on-target criticism. “I didn’t see the harm in pretending to look for his damned alchemy book if it meant I could keep my position here.”
“You didn’t need his permission to work.”
Dee tipped her head to her shoulder and shook it. “I’d just lost my mother. I didn’t want to lose my father, too.”
“You had me. Didn’t that mean anything?”
Dee came toward her. The caring in her eyes hurt. How could she trust Dee—anyone—ever again?
“It did,” Dee said softly. “That’s why I didn’t mention the search.” She took the pad from Melissa’s hands and stared at the scribbles. “If I’d found anything, I would have shown you first.”
Would she have? The uncertainty made Melissa feel as if there was no one at the other end of the seesaw and she was in for a hard fall. “I need to be alone now.”
Silently Melissa strolled to the window and stared at the pastoral scene below—horses grazing, ducks floating on the moat, trees ringing the edge of her world. She’d seen the same scene day after day for decades, and yet nothing seemed familiar. All she’d believed in, all she’d thought solid, seemed no firmer than the wisps of fog at the edge of the woods.
“The last thing you need right now is to be alone,” Dee said. Melissa swallowed hard, but didn’t respond.
Her beautiful castle had given her freedom in a world that kept her prisoner. With its white gazebo, its rose garden and its fragrant herb borders, her refuge had seemed bright and happy. Her home had stirred with life—the songs of birds, the purrs of cats and the whinnies of horses. The views from her tower studio had spurred her imagination and allowed her to create pieces that were therapeutic and had become art that collectors described as powerful and unique.
Now the gray stone walls melded with the steel of the sky, closing off the world. An oppressive silence filled the courtyard, squeezing the life from her soul. The barren windows taunted her with her loneliness. Her once-fluid imagination had run dry, leaving her not even her work to help her heal.
What had once symbolized freedom had become a strangling prison—all because she’d allowed her body to feel, her mind to care, her heart to love
. She didn’t know if she had the courage to learn to live again.
“You have a baby to think of,” Dee said gently as if she could read her mind.
A baby. Emotion surged through her. She turned and found Dee’s open arms ready to enfold her. “Oh, Dee, what am I going to do?”
“First,” Dee said, tightening her hug, “you’re going to take care of yourself. That means you have to eat. Let’s go have some breakfast.”
Melissa rested her forehead against Dee’s shoulder. “I love him.”
“I know.”
She leaned out of Dee’s embrace, grabbed Dee’s upper arms and looked into her friend’s eyes. “I can’t live here anymore. This isn’t what I want for my baby. I want play groups and PTA. I want field trips and friends. I want…” She choked on the tears spilling much too easily now that she had a fragile thread of hope to hang on to.
Smiling, Dee wrapped an arm around Melissa’s waist and led her down the stairs. “We’ll work it all out.”
IN THE WEEKS since he’d left Thornwylde, Tyler had managed to start rebuilding his career and make peace with his guilt over Lindsey’s death. In tribute to her life, he would continue to search for truth—and this time, he’d leave ego at the door.
He started with the piece on Melissa. His values would be a matter of public record—even if his confession meant nothing to her.
With careful steps he was working on a probing exposé on the seedy side of the well-respected James Richmond Randall. With the corruption all over the news, people were coming out of the woodwork ready to talk. He tried to focus his energy on his work. But his thoughts kept returning to Melissa.
He missed her, missed her sharp tongue, the artful observations of her art, her passion. He missed talking with her, being with her. But more than that, he missed the way he felt around her—content. The missing was a constant ache, like a bruise that wouldn’t heal. She’d never asked from him more than she’d given. And it wasn’t until he found himself alone that he realized how much she’d become a part of him.
Climbing the steps to his apartment, he dreaded the silence that awaited him. He wanted to hear her laughter, to see her smile, to taste her warm mouth…to know someone was waiting for him.
When he entered, it wasn’t the static of loneliness that met him, but rather the turbulent energy of evil. It skimmed the nape of his neck like an icy finger, making his hair stand on end.
In the middle of the kitchen table lay a decapitated king.
Beside the mutilated piece sprawled a note that read:
To win, one must be willing to sacrifice.
Checkmate.
Melissa.
He bolted out to the Jeep and raced toward Fallen Moon. Reaching for his cell phone, he prayed he would get to her in time.
COMMON PEOPLE lived by routine. That made them easy prey. The woman didn’t disappoint him. A duffer just like her father. As the sun kissed the horizon, she mounted the stallion and rode toward him. Ray receded into the shadows of the trees and waited.
Randall was getting his comeuppance—his company was falling apart in front of the world. All that remained was exacting repayment from William.
Steady hoofbeats approached, as horse and rider confidently made their way through the maze. Ray smiled, tasting the sweet flavor of retribution.
Her fiery end would be his triumph.
As she exited the maze and passed him, he nudged Black Witch’s sides with his spurs.
Endgame.
NOW THAT SHE HAD a plan, a bit of warmth was slowly returning to Melissa’s dead heart. She would donate the castle to the town of Fallen Moon. It would become a park for folks to enjoy, rather than a place of dark secrets to fear. Dee had already helped her find a small ranch where she could move her horses and raise her child.
She would have to tell Tyler about the baby, of course. There was no getting around that. She’d reassure him that her ugliness wouldn’t taint his child. After all, when she was young, people often told her she favored her mother in looks, and the mother Melissa remembered was beautiful.
At the edge of the maze Eclipse hesitated, ears swiveling as if to catch a sound. Melissa realized then that she’d let her mind wander and had paid the horse beneath her no attention.
She patted his neck. “It’s all right, boy. I’m back now. Let’s ride.”
But instead of going forward into a canter, the horse sidestepped, turning his head toward the mouth of the maze. His skin rippled beneath her legs, and his shiver of fear echoed inside her. She peered into the shadows, but saw nothing out of place.
The night seemed to pause. No wind rustled through the trees. No cicadas rasped. No bats swooped. Even the mosquitoes ceased their high-pitched hum.
She heard it then, the steady breathing like a hungry dragon deep in the shadows. In the next instant branches cracked like dry skeleton bones, firing the night with malefic reports. And a black mass stormed toward her with tornado speed.
No going back the way she’d come.
Taking charge, she didn’t ask, she ordered, and Eclipse responded. He sprang forward, galloping up and over the hill and into the field. She knew this terrain better than she knew herself and led Eclipse on a serpentine path that would take her to Fallen Moon.
She galloped across the Andersons’ field. She jumped the fence onto the Grangers’ land. Cows looked up and followed her race across their pasture. She plunged into the woods that bordered the north end of town.
Still the creature pursuing her kept on her heels.
Like crooked fingers, branches snagged her hair, scratched at her clothes and tore at her flesh. Eclipse’s feet thundered on the ground. His lungs funneled great gulps of air. His body crashed through the undergrowth.
Still she could hear the pounding of the beast behind them, chugging locomotive-loud closer and closer and closer.
A thin line of lights appeared like fairy lanterns through the trees and against the bleeding sky. Melissa aimed for them. The smell of exhaust and burgers on the grill and lawn fertilizer announced civilization. She broke free of the trees and instead of snaking to the sheriff’s office, she shot straight for the diner. Even this mad horseman wouldn’t dare hurt her in the middle of a busy restaurant. A soccer field separated her from safety.
She heard the whistle first—a sharp slicing of air right above her head. Something dropped like a snake from a tree, squirming as it latched onto her arms and chest. Then it stiffened and yanked her back.
Eclipse faltered at her sudden swing of balance and then came to a dead halt. The tension around her body coiled harder, catapulting her backward.
She landed hard. The crack of bone resounded in her skull. Pain shot down her arm and across her shoulder. Her breath was choked off. Her head rang. The rope grew tauter. And as her body was dragged over the uneven ground, something sharp seemed to pierce right through her. Pain like acid burned right through her belly.
My baby. Oh, God, no. Not my baby.
Rolling sideways, she fought to find purchase and was yanked down again for her trouble.
My baby, my baby.
She had to save her baby.
Clawing at the knot on the rope, she tried to free herself. A laugh cackled above her. “Sorry, sugar, this here’s the end of the rope.”
“Why are you doing this?” she rasped, squirming to get a look at her attacker.
“Someone’s gotta pay.” The man moved a few feet from the horse, which was blowing hard. Clucking at the horse, he dragged Melissa back into the shadows of the woods. Frantically she dug her heels into the soft ground and seized handfuls of grass to stay her unwanted ride. But one arm hung uselessly at her side. The heels of her boots slipped like fish in water on the dew-covered weeds. Her one-handed grip wasn’t strong enough to stop a frightened horse or a determined madman, both of whom were just out of her reach.
“Pay for what?” Her stomach rolled and she fought the greasy swell of nausea.
“For what was stolen.
”
“Stolen?” The town’s lights blinked out as the woods closed in around them.
“Your father used my father’s idea to buy Jimmy Randall’s interest.”
Panic rippled in hot curls and lodged in her chest. “I— I don’t know you.”
“But they knew each other. They were in an engineering class together, and your father stole my father’s final project.”
Her toes, her fingers, scratched for leverage and found none. “You’re wrong.”
“He never gave my father the credit that was his. Do you know what happened to my father?”
A rock bruised her tailbone, and she gasped. She grabbed a sapling trunk and held on, but the horse’s pull snapped her grasp.
“He died a broken and penniless man. He never got over the betrayal. I have to make things right. I have to get what rightfully belongs to us.”
The man was insane. He was going to kill her. Delay. She had to delay until she could think. “Tell me about it. About the project.”
“The pump he designed made it possible to extract oil from the ground faster at less cost. Guess who owns the patent?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was a high-pitched squeal.
“Randall Industries. They’ve been collectin’ royalties from that design for thirty-six years.”
“I’m not…” Her mind couldn’t grasp the needed thoughts out of the panic soaking her brain.
“That’s where your father got his start. With my father’s idea.” They reached a clearing, and he stopped dragging her. She pitched herself to her hands and knees and lurched up to run. With the sole of his boot, he kicked her down. Landing on her injured side, she howled in pain. He came to stand next to her. Craning her neck, she followed the plain black roper boots up to his face. She could see nothing of his shadow-darkened features, but the weight of his hatred nearly crushed her.
“You’re marked by the demon,” he said. “Your soul was damned before you were even born.”
