by Leslie Chase
On the edge of sleep, Lenore felt a presence in the room, warm and supportive and hopeful. She could almost hear a purring rumble, and she smiled.
“’Night, Devi,” she said sleepily, letting the darkness take her.
* * *
The morning was past when they woke and rose from their bed, but both felt better for the sleep. Maxwell’s wounds had healed completely overnight, Lenore noticed, admiring him as he stretched and yawned. He smiled a somewhat sheepish smile.
“I shouldn’t have let myself sleep so long,” he said. “At least now we can be sure Sir Daniel’s men didn’t manage to follow me last night.”
“That would have been a rude awakening,” Lenore said, trying not to let the thought dampen her good mood. “But I was sure you’d have shaken off their trail.”
“I gave them a good chase, that’s true. Now come on, up you get. We need to eat, and then I need a new plan.”
What’s wrong with breakfast in bed? Lenore thought a little sulkily, but made the effort to swing herself out of bed and get up. Maxwell watched her, amber eyes glittering, and she blushed, but found herself enjoying his regard. It was only fair, she supposed, given how much she liked to see him naked. A week earlier, she knew she’d have been mortified at the idea of letting a man watch her walk around unclothed.
She set to making them a hearty breakfast, as best she could while distracted by Maxwell. He was exercising, stretching and moving in slow but powerful patterns, some kind of martial arts training she assumed. Perhaps she could have asked, but she didn’t want to disturb him as he slowly and gracefully moved through the small cabin, flexing his muscles.
Yum! Lenore thought she could watch that all day, and Maxwell didn’t seem to mind that he had an audience. For such a big man, his grace was unbelievable, and as his movement sped up, she found herself more and more impressed with his speed and skill. Outside of a movie, she’d never seen anyone who could move like that. He moved so smoothly it was as though he were part cat — and perhaps that was his secret, she thought.
Finishing his exercise, Maxwell came to the table and dropped down into a chair, smiling at her.
“Do you do that every morning?” she asked, piling scrambled eggs on a plate for him. Made from powdered eggs, unfortunately, but that’s what he’d stocked his hideout with so she didn’t think he’d complain.
“I try to,” Maxwell answered. “I don’t always make the time for it, unfortunately.”
“You should. And you have to let me watch!”
Maxwell laughed at that, and shook his head. “If I can, Lenore. How could I deny you that?”
They ate together in a comfortable silence, and once the dishes were clean, Lenore sat beside him, hugging into his warmth. Aside from the lurking fear of Sir Daniel and his goons, this was perfect, and Lenore hoped that they would be able to holiday here often in the future. Maxwell’s huge house in England was a fantastic and luxurious place to stay, but this cabin, remote and quiet and small as it was, felt like home.
“I’ve got a question,” she said after a minute.
“Ask,” he told her, stroking his hair gently.
“Is it possible—” She stopped, bit her lip, and for a moment worried about sounding silly. Forcing herself to start again, she looked up at him. “Um. Could this cabin be haunted?”
He chuckled, and Lenore blushed, afraid that he was mocking her.
“What? I’m supposed to believe in magic and people turning into animals and, and all that, but not ghosts?”
“Sorry,” Maxwell said, a little sheepishly, not quite able to keep the smile from his face. “I know it’s been a lot to take in, and I’m not laughing at that, I promise. It’s just that you look so nervous asking! What makes you think that, anyway?”
“I’ve been having these dreams ever since we got here, and they feel so real. As real as the ritual we did last night, anyway.”
Maxwell sat back, his amused smile giving way to a serious look. “Tell me about the dreams, Lenore.”
Wishing she hadn’t brought the subject up, Lenore looked away. “It’s probably nothing, but I’ve dreamed of Devi each night since we arrived, and she’s been encouraging me. I kind of hoped that it was real, that’s all.”
Maxwell’s arms closed around Lenore and he pulled her close, squeezing tight. “You dreamed of Devi? My god, that’s amazing news.”
“What? Why is that the important thing?” Lenore said, surprised, holding him and pressing her face to his broad chest. “There’s a maniac coming to kill us and that’s what you’re focused on?”
“You don’t understand, Lenore,” Maxwell said, and Lenore felt him relaxing, the tension in his body fading. He lifted her face and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “You’re right that it’s not just a dream, you see. Devi has visited a few of my ancestors in visions here, but no one else has ever seen her. She only appears to members of her family.
“If you saw her, that means… that means you’re in the family too, and that can only mean one thing.”
Lenore looked up at him, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. The smile that spread across his face was genuine, awestruck, but with a touch of sadness on it.
“Lenore, it has to mean that you’re pregnant. That you’re carrying my child. I’m going to be a father!”
Lenore gasped, her world swimming as he spoke. She almost overbalanced; would have, if he hadn’t held her up. It took her moments to get her mouth to work again.
“Pregnant? Are you sure?” She shook her head, trying to clear it. The news crashed over her like a wave, washing away the world as she knew it. But it also simply felt… true, somehow. Even as she asked, she knew deep down that he was right.
“Yes, darling, pregnant!” Maxwell whooped with joy and lifted her off the ground, elated. His happiness was infectious, and Lenore felt herself grinning from ear to ear.
As he put her down, though, that joy faded, anxiety creeping back in. “The timing could be better, huh? Sir Daniel is still coming for us.”
His face clouded at that, and he shook his head. “Don’t think about that now, Lenore. He’s not as important as this, nothing is, and I won’t let that bastard hurt our child!”
I’m going to be a mother. The thought wouldn’t stop circling in Lenore’s mind, a giddy feeling of delight and terror. A dark whisper followed it: if I live to see it.
And now her fears were whipped up into a firestorm — the threat to her own life had been one thing, but it had never seemed entirely real to her. Now, carrying another life, it was an all too serious matter, and she couldn’t bear to face it.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, trying to hide her confused feelings. From the look of concern on Maxwell’s face, she didn’t think that she’d succeeded.
“Don’t worry, I will come up with a new plan,” Maxwell said firmly. “This changes the situation, but you can be sure of one thing: I will not allow harm to come to you or to our child. And you need to hear me on this, Lenore: while I would have wished for better circumstances, this is the best news you could have given me.
“I love you, Lenore Kimble. I am pleased and proud to be with you. And I am overjoyed that you are carrying my child. Trust me to look after you.”
His earnestness was impossible to doubt, and it washed away some of her fears. Lenore clung to him, and he lifted her, carrying her back into the cabin gently.
6
The Darkest Night
The rest of the evening went by peacefully. Maxwell refused to let Lenore do anything, despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of cooking — though secretly she was glad that he took charge of the kitchen: his cooking was delicious, especially given the limited selection of ingredients.
She did protest at the size of the serving he prepared for her, but Maxwell was having none of that.
“You’re eating for two now, Lenore,” he said in a tone that brooked no disobedience. “And tiger cubs are hungry little things, you’ll see. So eat u
p!”
Smiling, she obeyed. It was a nice excuse, if nothing else, but as she ate, she realized that she really was that hungry. Whether it was the baby or not, she didn’t know, but she wolfed down the meal and was yawning by the time she finished.
It’s been a big day, I suppose, she thought as Maxwell looked at her with big, serious eyes. The worry was creeping back in around the edges of his happiness, she could see, but along with it there was the grim determination to protect her. He would find a way, she was sure.
That night, she slipped off to sleep in Maxwell’s arms, quicker than she’d been expecting. But the sleep didn’t hold her long — she woke in the darkness to the sound of a low growl.
Maxwell was absent, and the room was cold and quiet apart from the purring growl of a tiger. Somehow it didn’t sound like Maxwell, but it wasn’t frightening either. She didn’t recognize the sound though it was familiar and comforting, and not threatening in the least. It must be Devi, she thought.
Standing, her feet met a rough woolen rug, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim light she realized that she was back in the dream — the walls were bare, and everything was old. And there was Devi curled up in front of the stove as a tiger.
The tiger looked up as she approached, and yawned, a cavernous yawn full of teeth. “You have slept too late,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Lenore asked, sitting on the rug in front of the tiger, her eyes level with the amber glow of Devi’s.
“You know what I mean,” Devi chided, and a sick feeling rose in Lenore’s stomach. “You know what he will do to protect you from harm. What do you think he will do to save his child, as well?”
“He promised he would keep himself safe!”
Somehow the tiger managed to look sad. “And how far will you trust that promise? If there is any promise to you that he would not keep, it’s one that puts you and your child in harm’s way.”
Lenore swallowed, her hands on her stomach, fear rising in her. She shook her head weakly, knowing that the other woman was right. She could trust Maxwell to look after her, but not to take care of himself if it left her in danger.
“What can I do?”
“I can’t answer that, child. I’m just a dream — and an ancient one at that,” Devi chuckled, a deep rumbling sound. “You have to make your own choices, just as he does. I am only here to give you a push to do that, Lenore.
“Now — wake up! Your man needs you, Lenore Kimble.”
Lenore woke with a start, instantly awake. She knew at once that she was alone in the cabin, that Maxwell was gone.
Rolling out of bed, she fumbled for the light, her heart pounding with fear. The room felt empty, abandoned, no longer full of the sensation of being home that she’d come to treasure in the short time she’d been there. That feeling was replaced by a sick dread in her stomach, a terrible feeling of impending doom.
On the kitchen table, she saw an envelope, waiting. Tearing it open with trembling fingers, she began to read the note inside.
My darling Lenore,
I know that you will not want this news, but I am afraid that it is all I have to offer. Of all the challenges I have faced in my life, the only one I have turned from is saying goodbye to you. It would be too painful for me to bear.
Nonetheless, I must go. Now that I know that you are carrying my child and heir, I can’t take the risk of Sir Daniel doing you harm. No matter the cost to me, I will keep you safe — that is my promise to you.
I hope that I shall rejoin you soon, victorious, and then you can take out your quite justified anger on me. My plan is not suicide! I am going to attack Sir Daniel in his lair, and this time I won’t turn aside. Either he will die or I will, and either way, you will be safe from him.
Unfortunately, I am afraid that win or lose, there’s a good chance I won’t make it out of there. So there are some things that I must tell you, and some advice I must give you. First, I’ve enclosed Penny’s phone number — call her and she will come and get you. Whatever has become of me, you no longer have any reason to fear the Masters and their plans.
Secondly, I’ve enclosed a will. It’s simple enough and no one should dispute it; I am leaving you and our child everything I own. I’d advise you to keep everything in the hands of my estate’s lawyers, they are good people and trustworthy. You will not want for anything, my beloved, for the rest of your years.
And lastly, I must tell you again that I love you, Lenore. More than anything, more than life itself, I love you. The only regret I will have in laying down my life for you is that I will not be able to share your life for longer, that I will not see our child grow up. But nonetheless, you have made the last days the best of my life. If fortune is with me, then we shall have many more such days together!
With all my love,
Maxwell.
Oh no no no! Lenore stared at the letter, reading it again and again, hoping that she’s somehow misunderstood, that it would say something different if she looked one more time. Maxwell, you can’t be serious, you can’t have done this!
The words blurred as tears welled in her eyes, and she dropped the letter to the table. She couldn’t believe he was gone. I don’t want your damned money! I want you, with me, with our child!
Wiping her eyes, she picked up the note again, forcing herself to take it in. There was no doubt about his intent, and no question in her heart that he was doomed. Maybe, if he’d taken his chance the night before, he’d have succeeded, but tonight Sir Daniel would be forewarned and more alert. There was no way that Maxwell would be able to get through his defenses.
Behind the letter, the envelope contained two more pieces of paper. One was Maxwell’s will, which she discarded unread, but the other had a mobile number written in Maxwell’s neat handwriting. Penelope! Maybe she can help? But she was an hour away at the very least, and there was no knowing how long Maxwell had been gone already.
He might already be dead.
The thought made Lenore double over in pain, as though she’d been stabbed in the heart with an ice-cold dagger of despair. Her sobs filled the cabin as she shuddered and clutched at herself. This is all my fault! If I hadn’t told him about my visions, he’d still be okay!
“You know that’s not true, child.”
The soft lilting voice from her dreams cut through her fear and pain, and Lenore’s head snapped up in shock. She saw no one.
“Devi?” Lenore’s voice faltered. Speaking to the dead in a dream was one thing, but when she was awake it was a good deal more intimidating.
“You can’t blame yourself for telling him the truth. You can’t blame yourself for what you didn’t know. And most especially you cannot blame yourself for Maxwell’s reaction.”
“The only responsibility you have, dear one, is to do the right thing yourself. Do not surrender to despair; where there is life, there is still hope.”
The voice seemed to come from everywhere, faint but impossible to ignore. Almost, Lenore thought that she could see someone out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn’t focus on her visitor.
“I don’t even know he’s alive,” she wailed, trying not to sob.
“You do,” Devi assured her. “You would know if he were gone. But there is no one else who can help him now — he will be gone if you can’t.”
The figure was clearer now, a little more solid. Or at least it appeared to be: Lenore was more than half convinced that she was going mad, and the translucent figure she saw was a hallucination. The woman she saw was dark of skin, tall and elegant with long dark hair, and dressed in colorful silks. At her waist she wore a sword-belt, from which hung the familiar shape of the talwar fate had bound Lenore to. Devi wore it with a casual familiarity that left Lenore certain that she knew how to use it well. She found herself envying the Indian princess’s self-confidence and the certainty she projected.
I wish I was half as sure of anything as she looks, she thought. But I have no idea what to do, where to turn. Without Maxwell, w
hat does it even matter?
She looked the ghostly princess in the eye, or tried to — it was hard to focus on the phantom in the darkness.
“How?” she demanded, choking back another sob. “What can I possibly do to help?”
“I cannot tell you what to do, child. I do not know more than you do — and I would not presume to tell you how to act. Only this can I say: do what is in your heart, and you will not go wrong.”
With those last words, the figure faded, and Lenore wondered if she had truly been there at all. Had she simply imagined the conversation? She wouldn’t put it past herself, given how upset she was.
It made no difference, though. Whether the advice came from her own mind or from Maxwell’s ancestor, she found some strength in it, and forced herself to her feet.
“Sitting here crying won’t do anything,” she told herself fiercely. Grabbing clothes hurriedly she dressed as quickly as she could, before rushing out into the cold night.
The cold air struck Lenore’s tear-dampened face like an icy slap. It stripped away the last vestiges of sleep as she recovered from the shock and made her way carefully around to the back of the property.
The car sat beside the cabin, tempting her, but after a longing glance at it, she turned her back. The keys would be findable, she was sure — Maxwell wouldn’t have abandoned her here with no way to make it to the nearest town. Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to town, and where she was going, she wouldn’t be able to find the way by road.
Instead, on unsteady feet, she made her way down in the dark to the stream. Her phone’s light gave her some visibility, but she still managed to put her foot in the freezing water as she tried to hop the last bit over, and had to bite back on a scream of frustration as she pulled herself free of the mud. She wished she had boots more suitable to the terrain.
Passing the spot she’d sat at the night before, the silver bowl still there and full to the brim with water, she saw the imprints of a tiger’s paws on the soft earth. Lenore took a deep breath looking down at the tracks and nodded to herself.
