The Edge of Eternity

by Amanda Stevens

  Paul stared at her in shock. He had a sudden image of Nina Wilson lying facedown in the same pool. “Latimer killed her?”

  Zoë sighed. “We’ll never know for sure, of course, but the police concluded that she’d been strangled before she went over the cliff. It’s always been my belief that Latimer killed the poor thing in cold blood, then went back up to the hotel to celebrate. When the fire broke out, he was trapped in the ballroom along with the others. One might easily think of that night as a divine intervention if not for all those innocent lives that were also lost.” When she reached for her tea, Paul noticed that her hands weren’t quite steady.

  “Even if everything you say is true, even if I could somehow accept that Latimer has come back from the dead,” he said doubtfully, “why Elizabeth? What does he want with her?”

  Zoë took a delicate sip of her tea, then set aside her cup. “Perhaps he sensed her vulnerability. Perhaps your wife, as I do, has the ability to see and hear things that others can’t, and that’s why Latimer is so drawn to her. For whatever reason, he formed a connection with her and now he won’t rest until he has what he wants.”

  Fear iced through Paul’s veins. “He wants her dead.”

  Zoë nodded, her eyes darkening as she gazed at Paul. “That’s the only way they can be together.”

  “But if I take her back to Seattle—”

  “He would follow. His hold over Elizabeth is stronger here, but it isn’t Fernhaven that keeps him connected to her. It’s your son.”

  “How?”

  “The bond between your wife and son is powerful. So strong that it couldn’t be severed even in death. Latimer uses that bond to keep Elizabeth tied to his world.”

  “Damon…” Paul closed his eyes briefly. “Is he…”

  “He isn’t with Latimer,” Zoë said quickly. “It’s his memory that Latimer uses. It’s your wife’s reluctance to let him go. Your son is safe, Paul. Latimer can’t touch him.”

  “How can you know that?” he asked hoarsely.

  “I can’t explain how I can know these things.” She gave him a comforting smile. “It isn’t for me to question. All I can tell you is that your son is able to communicate his happiness to me. When I think of him, I see the brightest of lights. I feel warmth all around me.” She put her hand on Paul’s arm.

  He wanted to snatch it away. He didn’t want to be lieve anything Zoë was telling him, and yet…what choice did he have? He’d seen things with his own eyes that defied explanation.

  Paul could feel Zoë’s fingers through his sweater, and the hair lifted at the back of his neck. He had the strangest feeling that something had entered his body, and the urge to pull away, to severe the connection, was irresistible at first.

  And then he felt it…the warmth and the light and the joy that she had spoken of. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He couldn’t explain what was happening to him, but he no longer wanted to turn away. Instead he wanted to cling to that moment forever.

  Memories swept over him, some that had come back to him every single day since his son had died and some he hadn’t thought of in years. He and Damon playing catch in the park. Fishing together in a crystal clear stream. Baseball games, birthday parties, nighttime stories told under a canopy of stars. The images were all there, stored safely in his heart.

  He heard a voice, not in his ear but somewhere deep inside him.

  Love you, Dad.

  I love you, too, son.

  When the warmth started to fade, Paul wanted to weep.

  Zoë removed her hand from his arm, but her blue eyes still shone with that strange light. “Your son is safe. He’ll always be safe and happy. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. Your wife is the one who still needs you.”

  Paul wiped away the moisture from his face. “How do I stop him?”

  “You can’t stop Latimer. His power resides within your wife. To break his hold, the bond between her and Damon must be severed. She has to let him go. Once that connection is broken, Latimer’s power will diminish.”

  Paul found that his legs were trembling when he stood. “I have to get back to her.”

  “Yes. Don’t leave her alone. Especially not tonight.”

  “Why tonight?” Paul said urgently.

  Zoë ignored his question as she glanced past him to the door. “How did you get here earlier? I didn’t hear a car.”

  “I ran from the clinic.”

  “All that way? Here—” she pressed a set of keys into his hand “—take my car. It’ll be faster. I have a terrible feeling….” She trailed off as a clap of thunder sounded in the distance. Her gaze lifted to Paul’s and he saw that the light in her eyes had been replaced by a dark, knowing fear. “I have a terrible feeling that time is of the essence,” she whispered.

  WHEN ELIZABETH OPENED her eyes, she had the strangest feeling that she was trapped in a recurring nightmare. Waking up in a hospital room, Frankie dozing at her bedside…she’d had this dream before.

  But where was Paul? Shouldn’t he be here? she thought with a flicker of panic. Holding her hand and coaxing her back from that dark place through which she’d once entered so willingly.

  Why was the room so cold? she wondered suddenly. It felt like a grave….

  And then she saw it. A cloudlike form that hung suspended at the end of her bed. Elizabeth gasped, her heart catching for a moment before slamming painfully against her rib cage.

  “Frankie!” she whispered frantically. “Frankie, wake up!”

  But Frankie kept right on sleeping as the cloud shimmered and thickened.

  Terrified, Elizabeth rose up on her elbows and watched as the vapor took on substance. Suddenly the mist was gone and in its place was a child. A boy. The son she’d thought lost to her forever.

  Elizabeth put a trembling hand to her mouth.

  The dark eyes, that sweet face…

  She squeezed her eyes closed. “You’re not real,” she said aloud.

  But when she opened her eyes, he was still there, the slightest hint of mischief flickering across his features. He lifted a hand and beckoned to her.

  A movement behind him caught Elizabeth’s eye, and she saw something then that she hadn’t noticed before. Someone else was in the room with them. A shadowy form hovered just behind Damon, and as Elizabeth watched in horror, a skeletal hand lifted to the child’s shoulder.

  “No!” she whispered and rose up out of bed. “I won’t let you have him.”

  IGNORING THE WARNING stare from the nurse at the front desk, Paul raced down the hallway and burst into Elizabeth’s room. He paused in the doorway, his heart pounding against his chest.

  The bed was empty.

  Frankie was sound asleep in a chair, her head thrown back, softly snoring. She didn’t even rouse when Paul hurried inside to check the bathroom. Coming back out, he knelt in front of her chair and grabbed her shoulders. “Frankie, wake up. Where’s Elizabeth? Where did she go?”

  “What?” she murmured drowsily.

  His grasp tightened on her shoulders and he gave her a shake. “Wake up!”

  Frankie’s eye flew open and she glanced around. “Paul…what happened?”

  “You fell asleep,” he said accusingly. “Where’s Elizabeth?”

  “Elizabeth?” Frankie glanced at the bed, then her eyes widened. “She was here a minute ago, Paul. I swear it. I only closed my eyes for a second.”

  “You didn’t see her leave?”

  “Of course not! I would have stopped her.”

  He rose and paced for a moment, then spun back to her. “Where are your car keys?”

  “My car keys—” They noticed her handbag at the same time. It was lying on the floor, the contents scattered around it.

  Frankie bent and rummaged through the items, then upended the purse. “My keys are missing,” she said desperately. “Elizabeth must have taken them. Oh, my God, Paul…where do you suppose she’s gone off to?”

  Paul didn’t answer. He was a
lready headed toward the door.

  A FEW MINUTES LATER, he pulled up in front of the hotel and leaped out, not bothering with the ticket the valet tried to thrust at him. Racing up the trail to the cottage, he unlocked the front door and hurried inside.

  “Elizabeth!”

  The cottage was dark and so silent he could hear nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. He tried the light switch, but the electricity appeared to be off.

  “Elizabeth, are you here?”

  Still no answer, but a light flickered in the bedroom and a strange scent lingered in the air. It smelled faintly of lilacs and…dust. Not unpleasant exactly, but one that lifted the hair at the back of Paul’s neck just the same. He made his way through the darkened cottage to Elizabeth’s bedroom.

  Pausing on the threshold, he glanced inside. The flickering light he’d seen from the other room was candlelight, he realized. Elizabeth must have just been here. Maybe she’d stepped out for a moment.

  He started toward the open French doors, then came to a dead stop. Something barred his way. A frosted vapor just inside the door that hung motionless in the air.

  As Paul watched, the mist thickened and gradually took on a human shape. Standing before him suddenly was a young woman of about twenty with flowing dark hair and alabaster skin. She wore an old-fashioned ball gown in shimmering white silk, and diamonds glittered in her hair and around her throat.

  She gazed at Paul for a moment as if she knew him, and a look of quiet urgency gleamed in her eyes. Turning to glance over her shoulder at the darkness beyond the open doorway, she seemed to stiffen, as if seeing something outside that alarmed her. When she turned back to Paul, her delicate features had contorted in fear. She opened her mouth, but the scream was silent, eternal….

  It came to Paul then who she was. Latimer’s young wife. The woman he’d strangled and whose body he’d thrown from the waterfall.

  She had come here to warn Paul. He didn’t know how he knew that, but somehow he did.

  The room suddenly grew frigid, and with the cold came the smell of decaying flesh. As if something dead had come in with the wind.

  Paul shivered in the unnatural cold, his gaze locked onto the young woman. From the corner of his eye he saw something just outside the door, a gathering mist that thickened menacingly as it moved inside and swirled toward the young woman. Suddenly alarmed, Paul took a step toward her, but she shook her head as if to warn him away.

  The cloud swept toward her, and as it touched her, she began to evaporate as if being swallowed up by the darker, stronger vapor.

  Someone whispered in his ear, “She’s mine,” and a chill shot through Paul’s bloodstream. The voice seemed to reach inside his chest and squeeze his heart so tightly he couldn’t breathe for a moment. He was frightened for the young woman and he was frightened for himself. But mostly he was frightened for Elizabeth.

  The putrid smell grew stronger as the cold deepened, and the French door slammed shut with such force that the glass rattled in the panes. Outside the bedroom another door slammed and then one by one the locks began to turn.

  “She’s mine,” the voice whispered over and over. “She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.”

  Paul started toward the French door, but something knocked him back. He stumbled, righted himself and lunged for the door again. This time he was slammed back with such pressure that his body crumpled against the fireplace. He crashed to the floor, his head colliding with the brick hearth, and after an explosion of pain, everything went black.

  ELIZABETH STOOD AT THE top of the roaring waterfall, gazing across the slippery rocks to the other side. She could just make out Damon’s form against the backdrop of trees.

  It’s not him, a little voice whispered inside her.

  It was a trick of the mist or perhaps her imagination. It wasn’t Damon.

  But it didn’t seem to matter because Elizabeth couldn’t turn away from his image. One way or another, she had to get to him. She had to protect him, save him as she hadn’t been able to that day in the car.

  Someone was with him on the other side. That same dark shadow hovered just behind him.

  “I won’t let you have him,” she whispered, then more loudly said, “Do you hear me? You can’t have him!”

  Latimer’s taunting laugh came to her over the roar of the waterfall. And then he reached out and took Damon’s hand, drawing him deeper into the darkness.

  WHEN PAUL CAME TO, the lights in the cottage were blazing. He blinked at the sudden brilliance, then lifted a hand to touch the pain at the back of his head. His fingers were bloody when he brought them away, and for a moment he had no idea what had happened.

  Elizabeth had left the hospital and he’d come back here to find her. Something had happened…he couldn’t quite remember….

  His gaze lit on the French doors across the room. They stood open, and an icy breeze blew through, helping to revive him.

  Paul staggered to his feet, taking a moment to regain his equilibrium before he started toward the doors. As he stepped outside, he heard the distant roar of the waterfall and he suddenly knew where Elizabeth had gone.

  Still groggy, he rushed along the damp path, as dread gathered inside him like a storm cloud. When he emerged from the trees, Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen. He stood at the edge of the cliff and called her name. Wind whipped at his clothes as he peered into the darkness. He could see nothing below him but swirling mist and crashing water.

  And then a sound, like a whisper, drew his attention upward, and something caught his eye at the top of the waterfall. As he watched, the mist cleared and he saw Elizabeth on the slippery rocks twenty feet above him.

  He wanted to call out to her again, to warn her, but he didn’t want to startle her. His heart pounding in fear, Paul started up the treacherous rocks.

  ELIZABETH TOOK A tentative step onto the rocks. Her foot slid, and for a moment she wavered precariously on the brink before regaining her balance. Steadying her nerves, she took another step and then another. She was halfway across before she stopped to glance up.

  She could see nothing but mist on the other side, but she knew that Latimer was there waiting for her. And so was Damon.

  She took another step and faltered when she heard her name. She thought at first it was Latimer calling to her, or even Damon. But then she realized the sound had come from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Paul on the rocks, moving toward her.

  “Paul, don’t!” she shouted. “I have to do this.”

  “No, you don’t.” He inched his way toward her. “Just stay where you are. I’ll come get you.”

  “You don’t understand!” she cried. “He’s got Damon!”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Paul shouted over the wind and the crashing water. “Damon is safe, Elizabeth. Latimer can’t touch him.”

  “I saw him. Don’t you see? I saw him with Damon. I have to stop him. It’s the only way.” She started to turn away, but Paul’s voice drew her back.

  “Elizabeth, look at me!”

  She turned slowly to face him.

  He reached out his hand to her. “Take my hand. Everything will be okay, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. Just take my hand.”

  “Damon—”

  “He’s gone, Elizabeth, but I’m still here and I love you. I’ve always loved you. Just take my hand.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. It’s okay to let him go. It’s what he wants.”

  “How can you know that?” she cried.

  “Because he told me.”

  His words sent a tremor through Elizabeth. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to take his hand and let him lead her to safety, but…how could she turn her back on her son? He was there in the mist with Latimer.

  “Do you love me, Elizabeth?”

  She drew a shaky breath. “Yes. More than anything.”

  “Then trust me. Take my hand and it’ll all be over.”

>   She let out a sobbing breath and reached for Paul’s hand. As their fingers touched, a gust of wind swept over her, almost knocking her over the edge. Her feet slipped on the rocks, and she screamed, her arms flailing wildly as she toppled toward the brink. Then Paul’s hand closed around her wrist and he drew her back.

  “Just hold on tight,” he shouted. “You’re safe now.”

  They inched their way across the rocks, and the gale grew in strength, whipping at their linked hands as if trying to tear them apart. Paul’s grasp on her tightened. “Don’t stop,” he shouted. “Just keep going.”

  The moment Elizabeth stepped off the rocks, the wind began to howl, an eerie, enraged sound that might have come from Latimer himself.

  She buried her face in Paul’s shoulder, trying to block out that terrible sound, as his arms came around her and held her close. “You’re safe. He can’t touch you now.”

  She lifted her head as the sound finally abated. “Is he gone?”

  “Yes. There’s no one here but you and me.”

  She started to glance back at the waterfall, but Paul gently turned her away. “Don’t look back,” he said.

  “Damon—”

  “He’s not there, Elizabeth. He was never there. But he’ll always be here.” He put his hand over her heart. “No one can ever take him away from us.”

  With trembling fingers he wiped away her tears and then his own.

  Elizabeth placed her hands on either side of his face. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Keep saying that,” he said fiercely. “Don’t stop until we’re miles away from this place.”

  As he brushed his lips against hers, the weight that had clung to her heart for so long melted away, and in its place was a glimmer of hope.

  “Let’s go home,” Paul said after a moment.

  The hotel arranged a rental car, and they drove late into the night. Eventually Elizabeth fell asleep, her head resting on Paul’s shoulder. They were safely away from Fernhaven, but he didn’t draw an easy breath until he saw the lights of Seattle glimmering on the horizon.