Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  She came out of her reverie with a start. She did hear water running. Looking around her, she found that the path she’d been following had taken her to the foot of a small stone bridge spanning one of the creeks.

  She stopped by the bridge and put down her bags. Her ankle was really sore now and there was a choppiness to her breathing that she didn’t think was a result of exertion. Damn, but there really was an uncanny sensation of watchfulness here in the shadows cast by the tall trees.

  Scout searched the bags for the cigarettes, tore open the new carton and one of the packs inside it. She must be more serious about this smoking thing then she’d originally thought. She was now working two packs of cigarettes at once.

  Marlboros, too. Nothing fancy or flavored or, God forbid, extra light. What would be the point of that? And not the brand she’d been in the habit of smoking as a teenager, either – Virginia Slims, usually, which Lisa copped from her mom. No, this was heavy duty, hard-core, mainline smoking. And she had no idea why she was doing it. Except that, somehow, it kept the sense of impending doom at bay. And that was all good.

  The dog climbed down the narrow banks of the creek to drink from the water trickling between the rocks. Scout thought briefly about climbing down there herself and soaking her ankle in the cold water, but the idea didn’t really appeal to her.

  She recognized this place now. This particular path would lead past the crumbling ruins of an old stone cottage whose real history she had never known, but which had, over the years, inspired several generations of ghost stories. From there it would skirt the grounds of her old high school, and curve around a small, isolated, forest pond.

  She could leave the path at that point and, assuming she could find a way to cut across several yards of brush, reach the back of her property.

  Piece of cake. Sheesh. Some great detour this was.

  She paused to reconsider her earlier conviction that this route constituted a shortcut. But if anything other than an excess of optimism had inspired her decision, she didn’t want to know about it. Her mental health depended on going with Marsha’s take on the subject. There was nothing strange going on. She wasn’t losing her mind. There would be no more voices, no signs, and definitely no ghosts.

  There would be no mysteries. No miracles. No inexplicable events. And maybe, if she were very lucky, she could even avoid any of the really creepy coincidences that seemed to be a daily occurrence in Oberon.

  * * *

  Scout made it back to the house later than she’d planned, tired and more scratched up than when she’d started, but without having suffered any recurrent bouts of spookiness. She felt an enormous sense of satisfaction at having found her way through the woods.

  She crossed the lawn and climbed the steps that led to the brick patio. A cat crouched on the railing beside the kitchen door. When it saw her, it laid back its ears and hissed. The dog growled back at it; an eerie, low sound, ending in a whine.

  Scout frowned. “Cut it out. Both of you,” she said as she unlocked the door and let herself inside.

  The cat stalked into the house at her heels, yowling and complaining as it followed her into the kitchen, the dog trailing reluctantly behind.

  The kitchen used to be one of her favorite rooms in the house. It was bright and cheerful, with high ceilings and a large center island topped with a marble slab. Perfect, or so Caroline had always insisted, for making piecrusts and fudge.

  Scout remembered hanging out here with her friends, sneaking down late at night to raid the ‘fridge for snacks when the munchies hit. Now it was just a place to make coffee.

  She deposited the bags on the island with a tired sigh and stopped to get herself a glass of water from the sink before putting the food away. When she turned back from the sink, she was startled to see eight cats watching her steadily.

  Seven of them crouched motionless on the floor by the door that led in from the hallway. Only her friend from the patio was still in motion, pacing back and forth, lashing his tail and uttering angry noises. When she went to retrieve the rest of the groceries from the island, he jumped on top of the counter. When she reached for the cigarettes, he jumped on her hand and bit her.

  “Ow!” Scout pulled back in pain and surprise and shoved the cat to the floor. “What is wrong with you?” she yelled at the furious feline.

  He responded with another long, warbling string of sounds, ears laid back, gold eyes glittering. The dog stood by the back door and whined unhappily. The other cats moved cautiously into the kitchen.

  Their behavior sent chills down Scout’s spine. She watched the cats sniff at the air, and found herself doing the same. The air was cool and dry. It smelled faintly of the onions in the pantry and coffee grounds in the garbage; even more faintly of the food in the dog’s bowl and the small scraps the cats had left.

  And underneath it all, it smelled of gas.

  She whirled to look at the stove. The gas had been left on. A cold chill washed over her; the sudden tightness in her chest made it difficult to breathe. She’d made coffee this morning; had she forgotten to turn the gas off? But no, she hadn’t made coffee. She’d started to and –

  That was it. She must have put the gas on and forgotten about it. And then somehow the flame had blown out.

  She snapped it off, pushed the button for the fan, opened the door and then the windows, all the time refusing to think too closely about the cats’ behavior.

  Cats can smell. There was nothing strange about that. Cats could smell gas and probably recognize that something was different in the air. Something unpleasant. Maybe even something wrong in a very primitive sense.

  But that was it.

  Cats could not make the connection she was making. Cats didn’t know what cigarettes were. Or matches. And they certainly couldn’t make the leap from cigarette to match to gas explosion.

  At least this time there had been no disembodied voices. And while the cats may have saved her life, that was no more than luck. They didn’t know what they were doing. Yeah, right. So where are they now?

  Eight cats had disappeared in a blink of an eye. Not a single one remained in sight.

  The phone rang as she was debating what to do next. She certainly wasn’t going to be eating dinner here tonight, she thought, as she lifted the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

  Glenn’s voice crackled over the phone. “Scout? Is that you?”

  She nearly dropped the phone in surprise. “Well, hi, Glenn. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again.”

  He laughed. A strange noise, too loud in her ear. She pulled the phone away a little distance, but it was still too loud.

  “What’s that, Glenn? I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said, that’s funny. What’re you doing right now?”

  Scout sighed. “Oh, you know, nothing much. Just trying to keep myself from blowing up the house.”

  “Oh?” Glenn’s voice held a guarded note. “How’s that?”

  “I guess I left the stove on this morning. The wind must have blown out the flame, or...”

  The wind, Scout? Where had the wind come from? From the window which you just now opened?

  “Anyway, my cat saved me.”

  “What?” Glenn’s voice cracked in surprise. “I’m coming over. We need to talk.”

  “Okay, I—” Thoughts of the last time she and Glenn had been here alone rose up her throat, and she nearly choked. “No! That’s – I have to get out of the house. I’ll meet you at The Temple Garden, over on Fourth Street. We’ll get some dinner.”

  “I’m not sure I want—”

  Well, I am. “Glenn. My treat, okay? How’s half an hour sound?”

  “Fine,” he said at last, sounding as if it were anything but. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  Back to Top

  * * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  * * * *

  Scout sipped her second glass of plum wine and glanced once again at her watch. Glenn was late. Well, that
was okay; she wasn’t in any kind of hurry to see him anyway. When she remembered the look in his eyes yesterday, she felt slightly sick.

  He was crazy if he thought she wanted anything from him but information. And she didn’t want it so badly that she was going to sleep with him to get it, either.

  It was pretty ironic, considering the way she used to argue with Lisa about him. “Can’t you see what a user he is? Why do you let him get away with it?” If she’d said it once, she’d said it a hundred times. What a hypocrite she’d been. Because, when the opportunity arose, she sure hadn’t been above using him, had she? And here she was, trying to do it again.

  She shuddered. At least last time things had been a little more equitable. She was pretty sure that last time they had each got exactly what they’d wanted.

  It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon, shortly after school let out for the day, and he had come to the house looking for Lisa. But Scout was the only one home; still dressed in her school uniform, eating her way through a pint of rocky road and feeling generally sorry for herself as she brooded over life’s unfairness and the treachery of friends.

  It had been several weeks since she’d learned about the hypnosis experiments her “friends” had been running, and only a few days after she and Nick had been together in the canyon. She had problems. Big problems. And the last person she wanted to have to deal with was Glenn.

  “I can still come in, can’t I, and wait for her?” he asked with that pleading, puppy dog look in his eyes.

  Of course she recognized the look for what it was. Hadn’t she seen him use it a thousand times before? And hadn’t she always been amazed when they fell for it?

  “So, he’s got nice eyes. Big deal. Can’t you see it’s just an act?” she wanted to yell at them – Lisa and the others – falling all over themselves to please him. She was just about to send him away, back out into the rain where he could drown, for all she cared, when several thoughts collided in her brain.

  Her first thought – and much as she hated to admit it, both then and later, it had been the first – was how great it would feel to pay Lisa back, even a little, for what she’d done.

  Her second thought was also about Lisa, although here she could at least pretend to have a measure of altruism. Lisa needed a wake-up call. She needed to see Glenn for the low-life he was. And it didn’t get much lower than making it with your girlfriend’s sister.

  Only the third thought was for herself. She needed to lose her virginity with someone other than Nick. And she had to do it soon. The way she felt about Nick... it scared her. She loved him so much, and that gave him the power to hurt her. Badly. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Especially over something so trivial.

  She’d do anything to keep from losing him. Even this. What she needed was someone who would do it, and not think twice. Someone who wouldn’t expect a relationship with her. Someone who couldn’t possibly hurt her, because she didn’t care enough about him to be hurt. Someone exactly like Glenn.

  She let him in. Ten minutes later, he had her on the couch. It was that easy.

  But first she had a little business to take care of. “Gee, Glory, we’ve got this whole house to ourselves for the next hour or so. You’d kinda think we could come up with some way to entertain ourselves, wouldn’t you?”

  That was all it had taken. She had seen his eyes light up with greedy anticipation, and she knew she had him. She moved quickly to seal the rest of the bargain she wanted to make.

  “You know, Glenn,” she told him, edging closer – close enough to brush an imaginary piece of lint from the front of his shirt and then slide her hands up his chest and around his neck. “I’ve been thinking. I’ve got a little bit of a situation here. Something you could maybe give me a hand with, if you wanted to.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever you want.” He ducked his head to kiss her, but she held him off.

  “Okay, good. Because you see, there are times when... I don’t always want people to know where I’ve been. Or what I’ve been doing. You know the kind of thing I’m talking about, Glory, don’t you?”

  “Uh... yeah... maybe,” he answered, his breathing coming faster than before, his hands tightening on her waist as he tried to pull her closer.

  Scout shifted away from him, frowning slightly. “Maybe? Weren’t you listening to what I just said?”

  His throat bobbed, and he looked as if he were trying hard to think. “Yeah, sure. You, uh... you said you don’t want people knowing...”

  “Where I’ve been,” Scout prompted, shifting closer once more until her breasts were pressing against his chest.

  Glenn nodded slowly, his expression relaxing once again. “And, what you’ve been... been doing. Right?”

  “That’s right.” Scout smiled approvingly as Glenn’s hands slid up over her ribs. She did her best to ignore the quick, uncomfortable beating of her heart, the flush of heat in her face. The faint queasiness that was making speech so difficult. “And who I’ve been with. So, you think you can help me out with that? I can tell them I was with you, and you’ll back me up?”

  “Sure, I can do that. I can—” His eyes widened in alarm. “Wait. With me? No, that’s—”

  “Only if they ask.” She smiled up at him in her most entreating manner, swaying ever so slightly from side to side. “They probably won’t.”

  “But... but what about Lisa?”

  Good question, butthead. She pushed away from him then. Backed up a step. “What about her, Glenn?”

  “What?” He stared at her, his eyes blank.

  “Lisa,” she prompted, ready to call a halt. Shit. Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he really did care. How could she do this if – “Are you afraid she’ll be hurt?”

  “No.” Glenn frowned, his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. He shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s—”

  Of course it’s not. Whatever was I thinking? Scout gritted her teeth to keep from scowling. She let her hands move to the button fastening her skirt. “Well, then what is it?

  “It’s just—”

  She paused again, waiting. “Just?”

  “Well, she’ll get real mad if...”

  If? Ha! Scout shook her head sorrowfully.

  “... if she ever finds out about this.”

  Never mind, if. Try when. Eyes wide, she smiled her most guileless smile as she popped the button and slowly, slowly, lowered her zipper. “Lisa trusts me. She’d never believe I’d go behind her back like this.” Although, of course, that was precisely what she was counting on.

  “Yeah, But I still don’t think we should tell people we—”

  “It’s kinda important to me, Glenn.” She pushed her skirt down over her hips. It fell to the floor and she kicked it away. “I need to know I can count on you.”

  “You can! I just…I just don’t see why I—”

  “It’s simple.” She started in on the buttons of her blouse. Opened them slowly, one by one. Watching him watch her. Gauging his reaction to her every move.

  One. “I need an alibi.” She pretended not to notice the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “And, you know, Glen, someday...”

  Two. Her blouse gapped open as she raised her hands to her head and made a big production out of undoing her braid, running her fingers through her hair. “Someday, you might need an alibi, too.”

  “Huh?” He stared at her blankly. “An alibi? For what?”

  Her hands returned to unfasten button number three. She shrugged. The blouse gapped wider. Resting her hands on her hips, she took a deep, deep breath and pretended to think. “Oh, I don’t know. Something we don’t want anyone finding out about? Something secret?” Something like this, you moron?

  “Oh, yeah. Yeah, maybe... I guess so.”

  Uh-huh. I guess so, too. Four. “And, maybe.” Her fingers toyed with the last button. “If you did need an alibi, I could be it. Right?” She cocked her head to the side.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.
That’s a… a good idea.”

  Five. “Uh, yeah, it is.” Holding the edges of her now unbuttoned blouse together, she smiled encouragement. “So, what do you think? Are you in?”

  “I... I... sure,” He nodded slowly, shook his head, nodded again. “I guess. Why not?”

  Bingo. “Good. It’s a deal, then.”

  God, what fools they’d been. Sex had been this huge mystery, and virginity an unimaginable hurdle. Once she’d cleared it, she was so sure it would be smooth sailing for her and Nick. And her experience, which she was certain would be immediately obvious to him, would assuage any lingering doubts he might have about her age.

  Plus, if they ever got caught...

  Well, no one could blame Nick for corrupting the morals of a minor, now, could they? Not if her morals were already corrupted by someone else.

  Just one more area where she considered Glenn to be expendable.

  But sex with Glenn had been almost a non-event. Quick, clumsy, relatively painless – unless you counted the embarrassment she’d suffered. And virginity, she decided belatedly, was as meaningful a concept as an imaginary line drawn in non-existent sand.

  She’d almost laughed out loud when they were finished. Where was the trauma and the pain she’d heard so much about? Where were the tears she was supposed to shed over her lost innocence? She had felt herself transformed far more deeply just staring into Nick’s hot eyes. The passion in his gaze made her feel as though her very bones were melting. And the sound of his voice... well, nothing Glenn did made her feel anything like that!