by Rebecca York
She heard him make a small sound as she felt him circle her shoulders. His arms came up slowly, as though he had wondered the same thing as she about touching.
I can feel you, they both said at the same time.
Yes
Being clasped in his strong embrace was magic. And if she kept her eyes closed, she could pretend he was well and truly here.
As she laid her head against his shoulder, he whispered in her mind, I’m going to get you out of here.
I know, she answered. And at that moment, against all odds, she believed him.
First, we have to figure out where you are.
Yes. She clung to him, swaying in his arms, marveling at how wonderful something so simple could be. She had had no normal human contact since Hayward had abducted her. This wasn’t exactly normal, but it was a lot better than anything she had experienced with the monster who had brought her to this place.
oOo
Arthur Hayward had been fighting a sense of unease all day. For weeks he’d known that he had Alice totally under control. Then when he’d had lunch with her, he’d sensed a change. Until then, she’d always been totally deferential to him—as she should be. As he was holding forth on European history, he’d detected a note of hope in her eyes. The next day, when he’d brought her breakfast, she’d demonstrated a streak of defiance—as though she knew something important had changed.
But all that was nonsense, he assured himself, quickly. He’d captured and drugged her and totally covered his tracks with that gigantic rock fall out in the wilderness. No way could they bring in heavy equipment to move the rubble.
While the rescuers were scrambling around still hoping they could find her, he’d carried her to his car and driven away. Since then, he’d had total control over her every waking moment.
Still feeling unsettled, he got up from the comfortable wingback chair in his office and strolled to the gun cabinet. After turning the key in the lock, he ran his fingers along the line of rifles. He loved Remingtons, Springfields, and Rugers. But his hand stopped when he came to the Mauser 98. German manufactured, it had been developed for military use, but it was just as good at stopping a charging lion—or a fleeing girl.
Paul Mauser’s design was one of the best. Hayward took the beauty down from the rack, carried it to the chair and sat with the weapon on his lap, sliding his fingers along the stock and playing with the bolt action. As he caressed the rifle, he thought about what the gun could do to the woman in the basement. The best part was that she would think she had a chance to escape—which would give her courage. He imagined her stepping outside, dragging in a draft of the night air, and deciding which way she would run. And whichever way it was, he would follow.
He spent a very pleasant half hour imagining the scene—and her realization in the end that hope was a lie.
When he knew he was back in control of his emotions—and this whole situation, he got up to fix a cup of warm skimmed milk before he went to bed.
Chapter 9
The sensation of Jonah’s strong arms encircling Alice was intoxicating, but she needed more.
Still with her eyes closed, she raised her head, marveling that she could feel his breath on her face.
She wasn’t sure who moved first, but all at once his lips were on hers. Maybe he had meant it to be a reassuring kiss. And at first she let it add to the perception of being safe in his arms. But too many emotions had been pent up inside her for too long. She’d been frightened. Despairing. Defiant. Resigned. But mostly she’d been so alone. Now a man who cared had come to rescue her. With all her heart, she wanted to believe that he could tip the balance of power with Hayward.
As he moved his lips against hers, she quickened to him on a primal level. All at once it was impossible for her to hold back a heated response to the light touch of his mouth on hers.
She sensed the urgency was the same for him. In the hours when they’d been apart, he must have spent a lot of time thinking about her. He could have walked away from a woman in distress, but he’d put forth an enormous effort to get here.
That knowledge helped fuel her need as he stroked his hands up and down her back, then slid lower and cupped her bottom.
Glorying in his response to her, she opened her mouth for him, inviting even more intimacies.
Still with her eyes closed, she stroked her fingertips against his face, tracing his eyebrows, then the swirl of his ears. As their kisses turned hotter, she pressed her breasts against his chest and slid her hands down his back to his hips, trying to get as close to him as she could.
Her bed was only a few feet away, and she wanted to lie down with him. But when she took a step back, instead of following, he dropped his hands to his sides and stayed where he was. As her eyes blinked open she drew in a quick breath. After that heated exchange, she had expected to see him standing in front of her—a wholly solid figure. But he looked just as he had when he first appeared in her room.
I’m sorry. We have to stop, he whispered in her mind.
Why? Kissing him and stroking him, feeling his arms around her had been the first comfort she had experienced since she’d arrived in this awful place.
We have work to do. We have to figure out how to get you away from here.
In Jonah’s arms, Alice had forgotten all about reality. But he was right, of course.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to reach for him again.
I’m going to see if I can find out anything useful.
How?
I’m not sure. What’s outside the cell?
There’s a hallway.
Right. When I came here that first time, I walked down it.
It leads to a gym and an exercise room. And there’s a stairway that goes up to the main part of the house. The door at the bottom is locked.
Okay.
oOo
As Jonah turned toward the door, he suppressed a surge of rage at the bastard who had done this to Alice—who was still doing it. The guy thought he knew how this drama was going to end, but Jonah was going for a surprise change in the rules.
He touched the door. He’d walked through it once. He could do it again, he told himself as he pressed his hand against the vertical surface. It felt solid, but it also felt spongy—as though he could feel through the molecules that made up its mass.
He rocked his hand, and to his satisfaction, he saw his fingers go through.
When he pressed forward, there was a feeling of resistance, and then he was on the other side and standing in the corridor he’d seen the night before.
The walls were made of gray-painted cinder blocks, like a school or other public building where cost cutting was a major consideration. In this case, the windowless hallway gave the feeling of being underground.
The floor under his feet was cheap tile. In fact, it looked like vinyl asbestos, which nobody used any more. That must mean it had been here for a while, or the guy didn’t want to go to the expense of having asbestos abatement when it was removed.
There were light fixtures above him, each holding an old-fashioned low watt incandescent bulb—like the kind home improvement stores still sold in big packs. Each was enclosed by a wire cage which made it impossible to get to the fixtures.
He proceeded to his right. There were no doors immediately, but finally he came to an exercise room which seemed to be filled with standard equipment like a treadmill, a bike and racks of weights, all outdated models.
A little farther on was a larger gym, big enough for a basketball court. Ropes dangled from the ceiling along one wall. Another wall had netting like you might see on a military obstacle course.
He exited the gym and walked toward another door. It had a window, and when he saw a flight of stairs that led up, he felt his heart start to pound. At the top, he could get outside and find out where he was.
But when he pressed his hand against the door the way he’d done in Alice’s cell, nothing happened. It remained a solid barrier, and he couldn’
t do the trick of pushing through.
He cursed silently. Probably he was at the limit of his range. He’d opened himself to Alice and used her to draw him here. She must be the key to how far he could go. With a grimace he turned and walked back down the hall.
When Jonah disappeared, Alice felt a terrible sense of loss. She backed up and sat on the bed, staring at the spot where he had disappeared, wondering how long he would be gone and if he would return. As she sat with her pulse pounding, she wasn’t sure what to hope for.
Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. Had the connection to him been cut again?
She had almost given up hope, when she saw the wall waver, and suddenly he was back in the room.
What happened? She asked.
I was in the corridor that led to the gym and the exercise room. I saw the door to the stairs, but I couldn’t get any farther.
She heard the frustration suffusing his inner voice.
Why not?
I think it has something to do with being close to you. I can only get a certain distance away from you.
Disappointment made her fists clench. She’d hoped he’d be able to get out of the house—or at least upstairs.
I couldn’t see outside, so I don’t know where we are.
Not your fault.
We have to try something else.
What?
I don’t know. He sounded discouraged, and she fought her own disappointment. Just his coming here had felt like a miracle. And it was. But it wasn’t enough to save her life. The longer she was trapped in this place, the less likely she was to get out alive.
He had remained near the door.
Stepping across the small room, she pressed against him, and his arms came up to encircle her.
He stroked his hands up and down her back, and his touch sent little currents of electricity over her skin. I’m not sure what’s best, he murmured inside her mind.
In what way?
Since this is—paranormal—there are a lot of ways to think about it. If I build up the connection with you, maybe I can get upstairs. On the other hand, what if I get more substantial? I can already touch you. Any more substance, and I might not be able to get through the door. But being more here might mean I could stop him from hurting you.
She hadn’t considered any of that.
You’re right. There are a lot of ways to think about it. But I vote for the idea of us getting closer.
Let’s see what happens if you focus on me.
She liked that suggestion. Closing her eyes, she clasped her hands around Jonah’s head and brought his mouth to hers. She felt a moment of resistance before he gave himself over to her.
She felt a flare of triumph as he moved his lips against hers, sliding, nibbling, and then urging her to open for him. When she did, his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she gloried in the intimacy of the kiss.
Without letting go of him, she moved backwards until she felt the bed frame hit her lower legs. Bending her knees, she sat down, bringing him with her.
It was hard to keep her eyes closed. She longed to look at him, but she knew that if she did, it would break the magic spell that fate had woven around them.
Alice. His inner voice sounded gritty as he said her name.
I want to forget about this place. You’re the only one who can carry me away.
I know.
She had been as direct as she could be, but she couldn’t say more. She rolled to her side, still kissing him.
One of his hands combed through her hair. The other stroked the side of her breast, and she knew he was asking permission to go farther.
Yes.
He shifted so he could cup both her breasts, gently kneading and caressing her through the thin fabric of her gown. She arched into the wonderful sensations he was creating as he squeezed and shaped her. Her nipples had contracted to tight points, and when he played with them through her gown, she couldn’t hold back a gasp.
You like that?
Lord, yes. She didn’t have a lot of experience with men, but no one had ever made her feel like this. She longed to open her eyes and watch what he was doing to her, but she knew that would only interfere with his wonderful fantasy. She thought about pulling off her gown. But she was too shy for that. Instead, she lay back, giving him as much access to her body as she could.
She sensed him leaning over her. One hand stayed on her breast. With the other, he reached to play with her toes. She had never thought of that as erotic, but it was with him.
He stroked her ankles, then her calves before dabbling with the edge of her gown. When she didn’t tell him to stop, he moved upward, caressing her knee, sending hot sensations curling toward her center. He followed them to her thigh, first the outside curve and then the sensitive interior skin.
Okay?
“Yes.”
In response, he worked his way higher, moving slowly, and she knew he was silently asking permission again, this time to touch her intimately.
Yes
He cupped her sex, pressing against her. When she arched into the caress, he responded with a firmer touch, rocking the heel of his hand against her. And as her breathing accelerated, he parted her lips so that he could glide into her slick folds.
She had never gone this far with a man before. When the intimacy made her jump, he immediately pulled his hand back.
I shouldn’t have done that.
It’s what I want. “Don’t stop.” She whispered the last part aloud.
Are you sure?
Yes.
When he gently repeated the caress, she marveled at how well he could do this. He seemed to know exactly how to kindle her pleasure.
He dipped into her vagina, just the barest bit, twisting his finger, the sensations exquisite.
As he withdrew, she made a pleading sound. But he wasn’t going far. As he stroked and pressed, her total focus was on the sensual pleasure he was creating. She knew he was gauging her reactions, finding out what she liked best.
She gripped his shoulders, letting his sorcery enfold her. As he took her up and up, she moved her hips against his hand, increasing the friction, silently begging him to take her over the edge.
Her breath came in gasps as he lifted her up to a high plane where there was only heat and light—stoking the flames until they burst through her in a glorious spasm.
Afterwards, as she lay limp with satisfaction, his lips brushed her cheek.
That was selfish of me.
No. I loved watching your pleasure.
That made her cheeks heat.
I’m shameless.
Of course not.
As he silently spoke the words, she heard a noise in the hall.
Oh no.
Jonah moved away from her just as she heard the lock turn. Her eyes flew open, and with a shaky hand, she pushed herself up, leaning back against the wall just as the door opened.
She knew her face was still hot, her breathing ragged.
The light in the cell had been dim. As it flashed to brightness, she lifted her arm to shield her eyes. But she could see a pair of men’s legs standing in the doorway. Hayward. Who else would it be? Moving her arm a little, she saw he was holding a gun, the way he had last time she’d seen him.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his fiery gaze searing her.
She shook her head. “Nothing’s going on,” she protested, her voice quavery.
“You’re moving around. Talking to someone.”
“Maybe I’m finally going crazy,” she answered, repeating what she had said the last time he’d questioned her.
“Yeah, maybe.”
She used the light as an excuse to shield her face, but she knew Jonah had gotten up and moved away from her. He had seemed to flicker out of existence when Hayward had opened the door. Now his image steadied as he walked to the side, where he had a line of sight to her captor.
Her gaze swung back to the man with the gun. She had always figured the way to stay ali
ve here was to be compliant. Perhaps that was no longer true. And perhaps she could give the man who thought he had the upper hand something to worry about.
“Is this place haunted?” she asked, putting a shiver into her voice.
Both men in the room looked startled. Hayward recovered and gave her a hard look. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“You asked if I was talking to someone. I think I saw a ghost.”
He laughed, although she could hear a little waver in the sound. “That’s ridiculous.”
Jonah apparently liked her inspiration. He stepped toward Hayward and waved his hand in front of the man’s face.
Hayward made a low sound and took a quick step back. “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Did you see something?”
“You didn’t?”
“No.”
He punched out his next words as he said, “You’re the one who mentioned ghosts.”
“Because I think there’s one down here.”
His voice was icy now. “What did you see exactly?”
“A flickering in the air in the room.”
As she spoke, Jonah waved his hand again, and Hayward moved quickly to the side. The gun in his hand swung toward Jonah, and she gasped.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
The gun swung back to her. “Don’t tell me nothing.”
Apparently he can see something, Jonah said. But he can’t hurt me.
You think.
She raised her chin. “Does it feel suddenly colder in here?” she asked.
“No,” Hayward shot back, then looked around again. “I’ve never seen a ghost here.”
“Maybe it’s the spirit of a slave who died on this plantation.”
He looked uncertain. “What makes you say it’s a plantation?”
“The house looks like it. It’s old. Big. Opulent.”
“Okay.” He stopped short as though he thought he’d given something away.
“Maryland was a slave state,” she said, watching him carefully. He didn’t deny they were still in Maryland, but he didn’t confirm it, either.
“Is the ghost a man or a woman?” Hayward asked.
“A man.”
