Spencer's Cove

by Missouri Vaun

  In her arms, Foster stiffened against her. They both convulsed until the tremors finally passed and they relaxed against each other. Foster collapsed against Abby’s shoulder, and she caressed Foster’s back.

  She had the unfamiliar sense of weightlessness, of floating.

  She opened her eyes to see that the bed had risen with her climax and was hovering several feet above the floor. Foster’s eyes were still closed when Abby reached up and touched the decorative stucco pattern on the ceiling just above them.

  She was not afraid.

  Abby couldn’t help but smile.

  ***

  The sun streamed into the room with bothersome ferocity. Foster squinted and then shielded her eyes while she scanned nearby surfaces for her glasses. She put them on and then partially sat up in bed. Abby was asleep next to her. The sheet draped across Abby’s waist as she lay on her side, facing away from Foster.

  Abby was sleeping so soundly she decided not to wake her. The pink along the horizon suggested it was still early. There was a haphazard stack of books on the nightstand. One of them was the vintage book they’d taken from the attic. Foster opened the cover and flipped through a couple of pages. But who was she kidding? She was completely unable to relax and read. She was naked under the covers, and the warmth of Abby’s body seeped in from the other side of the bed. She dropped the book and rolled on her side toward Abby, braced on her elbow.

  The temptation of Abby’s exposed shoulder was too great. The book completely forgotten, Foster spooned against Abby, moved her hair aside, and kissed her neck. Abby moaned softly.

  Abby rotated in Foster’s arms. Her breasts brushed teasingly against Foster’s bare chest. Abby still hadn’t opened her eyes when she kissed the sensitive spot just below Foster’s ear.

  “Good morning,” Foster whispered. Abby was like a drowsy, beautiful angel, and Foster didn’t want to startle her.

  “Good morning.” Abby squinted up at her. “What time is it?”

  “Don’t know and don’t care.” Foster smiled. She’d already decided she could just stay in bed with Abby all day.

  “Last night was amazing.” Abby smiled and stretched.

  “I’m not sure amazing is the right word. I was thinking more like incredible, mind-blowing, intoxicating, dreamlike…”

  “Yes, all of those.” Abby’s eyes sparkled in the cool, early morning light.

  There was a brisk knock at the door.

  “Foster?” Evan sounded annoyingly awake.

  “Yeah?”

  “Get up. We have a lot to do today.” Her tone was brusque.

  There was a pause and then Evan’s tone softened. “Abby, I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  Foster’s cheeks warmed, more for Abby than for herself. She turned sheepishly to Abby and shook her head to signal that Abby didn’t have to respond if she didn’t want to.

  “It’s okay, Evan. Thank you.” Abby was always kind. Regardless of the circumstance, Foster had only seen kindness, even when Abby was suffering from one of her painful headaches she didn’t want to burden anyone else.

  She heard the thump of Evan’s footfalls descend the stairs.

  “What is she? The fun police?” Foster sank back into her pillow.

  “I suppose she doesn’t like playing that role any more than we like being on the receiving end of it.” Abby swept her fingers through her hair to smooth it.

  “If you say so.” Foster wasn’t so sure. From day one, Evan seemed to love playing the law-and-order role.

  Abby climbed out from under the rumpled duvet and searched the floor for her clothes, giving Foster a lovely view during the process. Abby slipped into her pants and blouse without putting on her bra.

  “I’m going to go shower and change. I’ll see you later.” Abby leaned over and kissed Foster. When Foster looked down she realized Abby had placed her discarded red silk underwear in Foster’s hand.

  Abby closed the door softly and Foster sank under the covers.

  She’d died and gone to heaven, she was sure of it.

  ***

  Foster jolted awake. Shit. She’d fallen back asleep after Abby left her. What time was it? She fumbled around on the bedside table in search of her cell phone. It was dead. That was probably just as well. Gloria had such bad timing she’d no doubt have called or texted during the night with some mundane update about William Faulkner.

  She rotated, draped her legs over the edge of the bed, and let her toes rest on the floor. She studied the dark screen for a moment before she got up and crossed the room to check the antique clock on the mantel. Shit, shit, shit. It was almost nine o’clock. Why had Abby let her sleep so long, or Evan for that matter?

  There was a robe hanging in the wardrobe across the room. Foster slipped it on and then plugged her phone in to leave it to charge. She peeked into the hallway. No one was about. She scurried across to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

  Twenty minutes later, she was dressed and briskly finger-combing her damp hair. She needed coffee, badly. She strolled to the kitchen feeling oddly lightened by her night with Abby. She heated the kettle and made herself a cup of pour-over coffee. She painstakingly let the hot water wash coffee grounds into the bottom of the filter from each side and then impatiently waited for it to drip into the mug. All the while, she craned to look out the kitchen window for signs of activity. Where was everyone?

  There was a cast iron skillet on the stovetop covered with a well-worn blue plaid cloth. She peeked under the corner of it as she stirred cream into her coffee. Biscuits with ham in them. Bless Cora’s sweet heart.

  Foster took a bite, chewed, and then held the biscuit in her mouth to free up her hand. She reached for the knob of the back door. Just as she was about to make contact, the door opened. Abby was there, breathing hard, cheeks rosy from the chilly air. Abby tugged the knit cap off her head. Static made long strands fluff around her face. She smiled and Foster seriously thought that her smile was the most beautiful thing in the world, like a brilliant sunrise after days of rain.

  “Hi.”

  “Hmph.” Foster remembered the biscuit she was holding in her mouth. Somehow, the sight of Abby made her forget everything.

  She took the biscuit out of her mouth and stepped aside to make room for Abby to come in. A draft of cool air swirled around them in the entry as Abby pulled the door closed.

  “I was just about to go look for you.” Foster sipped her coffee.

  “And now you don’t have to.” Abby shucked out of her jacket and dropped her leather gloves on the bench just inside the door.

  “The water is still hot in the kettle if you’d like some tea.” Foster motioned toward the kitchen.

  “That sounds perfect.”

  Abby was wearing her riding pants and boots. It surprised Foster a little that she’d obviously gone for a ride. But maybe it was good to treat today like every other normal day, even though tonight things might be different. Foster’s stomach suddenly upended and sank. Was everything going to be different tomorrow?

  What if this whole transmutation thing happens and Abby no longer had any interest in me?

  “That’s not going to happen.” Abby kissed her on the cheek.

  “You know what I was thinking just now?”

  “Sorry, I can’t help hearing your thoughts. I don’t know how to turn it off.” Abby poured water into a cup and then dropped a tea bag into it.

  “Since when?” Foster was worried she’d thought things Abby wouldn’t like or didn’t need to know. Needless worries and fears.

  “Since our lunch by the river…I think.” Abby cocked her head as if she were thinking back. “Maybe hints and whispers after the graveyard…yes, I think that’s when it started.”

  “So, what am I thinking now?”

  Abby blushed and bit her lower lip. “Don’t make me say it out loud.”

  “Wow…” Foster leaned against the edge of the counter opposite Abby.

  “I know. I think there are other t
hings too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Can you feel this?”

  Abby hadn’t moved, but Foster had the distinct sensation of the warmth of Abby’s touch inside her shirt. She swore she could feel Abby’s fingertips trail across her stomach under her shirttail and then begin to descend lower. Abby’s eyes were closed, her knuckles were white where she gripped the counter’s edge. Foster braced her legs farther apart because she was afraid her knees were going to give way.

  “Foster, where have you been?” Evan broke the connection.

  Foster exhaled and cleared her throat. She tugged at the waist of her jeans, adjusting their position. She knew she was wet and Abby hadn’t even touched her. Or had she? That was so strange.

  Evan walked between them, crossing the kitchen to the refrigerator. She opened a soda and took a long drink. Her clothing was smudged with dirt, and she’d worn her boots into the kitchen, which seemed unlike her. She was sweating too, even though the temperature was cool.

  “Hey, are you all right? You don’t look so good.” Foster set her coffee down.

  “I’m fine…I just…I think…” Evan swayed on her feet and toppled backward. Foster managed to catch her head just before it struck the stone tiles.

  “She’s burning up.” Abby’s hand was on Evan’s forehead.

  “Call Dena.” Evan’s voice was raspy, as if she was moments from losing it completely.

  “What?” Foster’s hand still cradled Evan’s head.

  “Call Dena…it’s a spell…”

  Abby pressed her fingertips to Evan’s neck. “Her pulse is too fast.”

  “My phone is upstairs charging. I’ll get Dena’s number.”

  Foster hustled upstairs only to discover that she hadn’t actually plugged the phone in. Yes, she’d attached the charger to the phone, but the plug under the desk wasn’t actually in the socket. Her brain had been so foggy earlier that she hadn’t thought to check. The phone was completely dead. Damn.

  Foster was breathless by the time she reached the kitchen. Evan looked worse if that was possible, pale and lifeless. Seeing someone so fit and strong collapse so suddenly freaked her out.

  “My phone is completely dead. Did you get Dena’s number?”

  “No, I didn’t think I needed to. You and Evan both had it.”

  “Where’s Evan’s phone?” Foster started searching Evan’s pockets, nothing. It could be anywhere and she’d waste valuable time looking for it. “The library.”

  “What?”

  “We could call the library from the landline.”

  Abby checked the clock on the stove. “It’s only nine thirty. It’s not open yet…but if you drive there you could reach Dena before they even open.”

  “Right. I’ll be right back.” She ran up the stairs again for a jacket and keys.

  She stuck her head in the kitchen door before leaving.

  “How is she?” Abby had placed a towel under Evan’s head. The spilled soda pooled near the fridge where she’d dropped it.

  “Not good. Hurry, Foster.” Abby looked up from her kneeling position on the floor, worry evident on her face.

  Foster hit the gas, throwing bits of debris from the stone driveway against the low undercarriage of her lame rental car. For a minute she wondered if getting out to push would make it go any faster.

  The fifteen-minute drive into Spencer’s cove seemed like it took forty-five. She angled into a parking spot beside the brick building. The car sputtered and died before she even got a chance to hit the ignition button. That seemed strange, but she had no time to sort it out now. She sprang from the car and trotted toward the side entrance. There was one other car in the parking lot. That must be Dena’s. She cupped her hands so that she could see past the glare of the glass side door. She knocked on the glass. The library wasn’t open for another fifteen minutes so the door was locked when she tried it. Regardless, she shook the handle a few times, rattling the whole business loudly.

  Dammit, Dena, where are you?

  She ran around to the front of the building and repeated her steps. It took another five minutes of banging to get Dena finally to the door.

  “Didn’t you hear me banging?” The minute Dena opened the door Foster launched into her.

  “Well, hello to you too.” Dena was as surly as usual.

  “Evan’s in trouble.”

  Dena’s demeanor immediately shifted, suddenly she was alert and attentive.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Foster shook her head. “She came in the kitchen to get a drink…she didn’t look right…and then she just collapsed. She said for me to find you.”

  “Anything else?” Dena stepped through the door, leaving the closed sign in place, and locked it behind her.

  “I think she said something about a spell. But I can’t be sure.”

  “Go pick up Jai and meet me at the Spencer place.” Dena started toward her car.

  “Can’t she just drive there herself?” Foster was anxious to get back to Abby. The thought that she was in the house, alone, and that Evan was incapacitated came crashing down. Her heart rate spiked. Evan had been very specific about the fact that Foster should stay with Abby.

  “She doesn’t drive…long story.” Dena kept walking and Foster followed her. “We’ll need things and she knows where they are at my house. I’ll start the antivenom. We shouldn’t delay. Trust me, this will be the quickest solution.”

  “Where is Jai?”

  “Redwood Grove apartments just past the market. Number two three nine.” Dena was in her car. It was in motion and she was shouting to Foster through the open window.

  Foster didn’t like this plan at all. She stood in the parking lot for a minute to catch her breath. She ran her fingers through her hair and slowly exhaled. Okay, be cool, just stay cool. Dena was on her way. Abby wouldn’t be alone.

  She got back in her car and hit the ignition button. The console lights came on, but the car wouldn’t start. What now? I hate this piece of shit. She scanned the digital readouts on the dash, and then she saw it. Empty. The little gas pump was all lit up, but in her haste, she hadn’t noticed that the car was out of gas.

  “Car trouble?”

  Foster almost jumped out of her skin. She looked up to see an elegant looking woman leaning against the car. Her arm was on the top of the car and she was bending down so that she could speak to Foster. The woman seemed harmless, but still Foster’s stomach lurched.

  “No, no trouble…just needs gas.” Foster tried for her best, friendly Southerner routine to get the woman to go away.

  “I could give you a ride to the service station. I bet they have a gas can they’d let you borrow.”

  Everything about this woman was wrong for this place. First off, she was wearing all black clothing in a town that seemed to go one of two ways, plaid flannel or tie-dyed. Second, her manner seemed too formal. This woman was not from Spencer’s Cove.

  But what were her choices?

  Foster did some quick math in her head. The nearest gas station was probably five miles away, to the south. That would take too long on foot. She could hitchhike, but that might also take a while. This woman was offering. Even if she did trigger an orange caution flag inside Foster’s head, this seemed like the only choice. Time was not on her side. She needed to get gas, pick up Jai, and get back to Abby and Evan as quickly as possible.

  “Okay, if it’s no trouble.” The woman stepped back so Foster could open the door.

  “It’s no trouble.” The woman smiled but the smile seemed disingenuous.

  Okay, just suck it up and get this over with.

  The woman seriously made her skin crawl. Her skin was too pale and too smooth, almost translucent. Foster was having a hard time guessing her age. Long, straight dark hair swirled around her head in the light breeze, but never once actually blew into her face, adding a surreal quality to her overall appearance. Every cautionary tale her mother had ever told her about accepting
rides from strangers echoed loudly inside her head, but she ignored them.

  “Um, where are you parked?” Foster had followed the willowy woman across the street and down a half block toward the pier.

  Foster looked over her shoulder. How had this woman even seen her in the library parking lot from down here?

  When she turned back, the woman had stopped in her path. She almost bumped into her. She smiled at Foster and grabbed her shoulder with some sort of Vulcan death grip.

  “Hey! What the—” Her words died in her throat. Darkness invaded her senses until the entire world was night.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Abby heard someone approach the door. Without looking, she knew it was Dena. Evan’s condition hadn’t changed. Abby was at the door before Dena even knocked.

  “Where is she?” Dena was all business.

  “In the kitchen. We didn’t move her.” After Dena crossed the threshold Abby glanced out the door. “Where’s Foster?”

  “I sent her for Jai. They’re right behind me.” Dena rolled up the sleeves of her flannel shirt. “Let’s get started. You can help me until they arrive with the other supplies I need.”

  “How do you know what you need without knowing what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t…but Jai will know to bring my entire bag. So, we’ll be covered.” Dena patted Abby’s shoulder. “Now, where is Evan?”

  Dena followed her back to the kitchen where Evan lay on the floor, still as death.

  “Is Cora here?”

  “No, Thursdays she always drives down the coast to see her sister. She’ll be back this evening.”

  “Too bad, we might need her. Three are always better than two.” Dena studied the room. “Let’s clear some space around her.” Dena started moving chairs, and she and Abby worked together to slide the heavy table.