Visions of Death: A Paranormal Romance (The Gypsy's Curse Book 1)

by Meg Anne

  Perhaps it is because I have always been cautious about making physical contact with anyone, knowing that is often the trigger. At least until this morning. The brush of the boy’s shoulder had caught me off guard, and as I looked up to apologize, I felt the strangest tingling at the back of my neck. That’s when I knew.

  He was still holding on to my arm as I came out of the vision, looking worried and asking if I was well. He was confused when I warned him to stay out of the street, telling me I should sit down, and he would call a doctor.

  Even though I warned him, it happened just as I foretold. His death came to pass this afternoon.

  I wish my mother had been right, and that our family’s gift had passed over me. Life is hard enough without having to bear the weight of death.

  Skye shut the journal and set it next to the tub. Salty tears rolled down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away. Her chest physically ached, and the lump burning in her throat made it hard to breathe. She’d expected to be emotional reading her Gran’s words but seeing the handwriting she knew so well after all this time had been even more difficult than she’d thought it would be. “Come on, Skye,” she whispered. “You can do this.” Once more, she lifted the journal and started to read, her Gran’s life taking shape and wrapping itself around her.

  The water was cold and Skye was more than half done with the first journal when she finally climbed out. So far, her Gran had mostly kept a log of her visions, writing of deaths she’d seen and when they’d come true. She’d also mentioned a little about the Gypsy heritage, but nothing that Skye didn’t already know.

  She dried off and yawned, ready for the nap she’d promised herself. After reading for nearly two hours, she more than earned it.

  Her phone beeped, and she looked down to see a text from Lucas, or rather Detective Loomis. Skye couldn’t help but smile as the silly nickname lit up her screen.

  Detective Loomis: How’s it going?

  Skye: Just climbed out of the bath. ;)

  DL: Tease. I appreciate the visual but how the hell am I supposed to focus now?

  Skye laughed, not at all sorry. She quickly texted her reply.

  S: That sounds like a personal problem Det. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.

  S: And you’re welcome btw.

  S: How are things with you? Any news?

  She didn’t have to wait long for his answer.

  DL: Nothing yet, we are just about to sit down with the CHF.

  S: Good luck.

  DL: I’d rather be there with you.

  Her heart did a little flip in her chest, and it made her feel like she was becoming a real-life version of the heart eyes emoji when his next two texts came in rapid succession.

  DL: In the bath.

  DL: I could help you with those hard to reach spots. ;) 0:)

  Skye snickered.

  S: Yeah, I bet you would.

  S: Too bad I’m already clean.

  DL: That just means it’s time to get dirty again.

  Skye could feel the blood rush to her face and heat pool in her belly as thoughts of how they could do that filled her mind. He could wash my back… or my front. What would those fingertips feel like on my skin? With a smile, she responded.

  S: Aren’t you supposed to be focusing?

  DL: You started it with the bath talk.

  Skye shook her head and laughed again.

  S: Get back to work Det. I’ll talk to you later.

  She put her phone aside and pulled on one of Lucas’ shirts. His scent filled her lungs as she lifted the fabric to her nose and breathed deeply.

  “Oh, Gran, if you could only see me now; what would you say about me crushing hard on a Druid?” Her words echoed around the empty room as she climbed into bed.

  Settling in, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

  Skye stood in the living room of Lucas’ apartment in the T-shirt she’d gone to bed in.

  “Hello?” she called. When no one answered, she made her way through the apartment, but it was completely empty. Not even Lucy inhabited the space.

  She lifted her phone from the counter and tried to call Lucas, but it went straight to his voicemail.

  “You wanted alone time, didn’t you?” the deep voice she’d come to know, and despise, over the last week sounded behind her.

  She turned to face the Druid. He stood just inside the apartment, his cloak as always covering the top half of his face.

  “Wake up, Skye,” she whispered, “you’re dreaming.”

  “Are you though?” He stepped toward her, and his mouth turned up into a cold smile. “You dream of me often, Seer?”

  “Only in my nightmares,” she responded tightly.

  “Don’t be ashamed, Seer.” He dropped his voice, as if sharing a secret. “I think of you too.” His tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip in a crude gesture that reminded her an awful lot of a snake about to devour its prey.

  Skye shuddered. “You make me sick.”

  “Liar. If my kind makes you sick, why are you spending so much time trying to save the detective’s life?”

  “Listen, fucker. It’s not Druids as a whole that I have a problem with. It’s just you and all the vile things that you do in the name of your kind.”

  He moved closer to her, but her pride wouldn’t let her shrink back. This was her dream, after all, she should be able to control it.

  “You would do well to remember who you’re talking to, Gypsy.” He reached out and traced a finger along her mouth.

  “I know exactly who I’m talking to: a psychotic, cold-blooded murderer.”

  His hand closed around her throat, and he shoved her back, pressing her against the wall. Even though it was a dream, her lungs burned for air. The large T-shirt she wore was the only piece of clothing she had on, and it rode higher up her legs as she struggled to get out of his hold

  His hands were hard on her body, and she could feel the clamminess of them even through the fabric of her shirt. She swallowed back the bile in her throat, as she felt his finger trace up her bare leg, just beneath the hem of the shirt.

  Please no, she thought to herself and squeezed her eyes tight. His finger stilled, and he drew small circles on her skin.

  “Open your eyes, Seer,” he commanded.

  She shook her head.

  “There’s power in eyes you know,” he informed her, “and yours hold an impressive amount.”

  She squeezed her eyes tighter, determined to not let him get his way. His hand moved away from her thigh and traced up the front of the shirt between her breasts until his entire hand clasped her throat.

  She opened her eyes now, as he squeezed tightly,

  “You will be mine.” His hand tightened again, and Skye started to see spots dancing before her eyes. There was another noise in the room now, other than the deep breathing of her attacker. Was it barking?

  “Get off me!” The scream was more of a haggard cough, but it was the best she could do. She shoved him as hard as she could.

  The barking grew louder, and Skye sat up in bed. The sharp tones of Lucy’s barking filled the room, the dog was standing beside her bed, growling at the corner of the room near the window. Skye followed the dog’s aggressive stare, and her heart stammered when she saw they weren’t alone in the room.

  The Druid stood in the corner, staring at her.

  Skye jumped to her feet, ready to do whatever she could to defend herself, but all he did was blow her a kiss and vanish. She fell to her knees, the muscles in her legs giving out from the fear. Lucy started nuzzling her, and Skye gripped the dog that had just saved her life.

  “I am going to give you so many treats,” she gasped, her heart pounding like it was trying to claw its way out of her chest.

  What would have happened if she hadn’t woken up?

  Still holding onto Lucy, Skye grasped for her cell phone still on the nightstand. She clicked Lucas’ contact information and heard it ring twice before he answered.
>
  “Hello?”

  The lump in her throat tightened, and a sob choked out.

  “Skye, what is it?” His tone was frantic now, and Skye shook her head even though she knew he couldn’t see it.

  “He was here,” she managed.

  “I’m on my way.”

  She ended the call and buried her face in Lucy’s short fur.

  What felt like hours—but in reality was probably only minutes—later, the front door slammed open.

  “Skye?” Lucas called, and she heard his heavy footfalls come down the hall toward the bedroom.

  She forced herself back into a standing position. “In here,” she called, her voice raspy.

  His eyes were wide when he came into the room, and he rushed to her side. “What happened?”

  Skye swallowed. “I thought I was sleeping. He touched my leg.” Tears burned in her eyes. Even though nothing had technically happened, she still felt contaminated.

  Lucas’ face was hard, his brows drawn together in rage, and Skye shrank from the danger emanating off of him, even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her. “While that pisses me the fuck off, at the moment I’m more concerned with the bruises around your neck.” His hands were gentle as he turned her head to get a better look.

  “Bruises?”

  “Yes. A ring of them.” His jaw was tight, and Skye sucked in a breath. That explained why her throat hurt so badly. He really had been choking her.

  “Lucy saved me.” She looked down at the dog who hadn’t left her side since the Druid left.

  Lucas reached down and rubbed Lucy’s head. “I’m making you a steak tonight, girl.”

  Skye almost smiled at how his words to the pup essentially mirrored her own.

  “No more alone time for you,” he whispered into Skye’s ear as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “And we’d damn well better find a way to protect ourselves from that bastard. Fast.”

  “Amen to that.” Skye didn’t think she’d survive another run-in like that. It had been too damned close as it was. What if there was no one there to make sure she woke up next time?

  Chapter 32

  Lucas

  Lucas stared up at the ceiling fan as the blades spun above them. The TV was on low in the background, but whichever movie they’d originally started to watch was long forgotten. It had only been a distraction anyway.

  Skye had been understandably restless after the attack and asked if he would stay with her in the bedroom so she wouldn’t be alone. Lucas would have to be one heartless bastard to deny her the simple request, although to be honest, he was going to insist on staying with her regardless.

  He wasn’t eager to let her out of his sight anytime soon. He’d come to think of her as fearless, and the image of terror on her face was one Lucas didn’t think he would ever get out of his head. He could only imagine what she was dealing with after having that bastard attack her while she slept.

  It took time, and a couple of movies, but Skye finally dozed off. She laid on her side, sleeping soundly, a miracle in and of itself given everything that had happened.

  For his part, he hadn’t managed a single second of sleep. Lucas couldn’t stop thinking about how close they’d come to losing her that afternoon. Had Lucy not woken her up in time, the Druid might have killed her.

  Lucas still couldn’t believe that the bastard got to her while she slept. How the hell did you fight someone who could reach you in your dreams?

  Lucy, who faithfully guarded them from her dog bed in the corner, started whining. Lucas leaned up to make sure she was alright. Given the familiar twitching of her paws, she was chasing something in her sleep.

  “Get ‘em, girl,” he murmured, before lying back down and pulling Skye closer.

  When he’d first seen her name pop up on his phone screen, he’d thought maybe she’d found something in the journals. But hearing the choked sobs on the other end of the line had damn near made him lose his mind. Without having to be asked, Matthews headed straight to the diner to check on Lizzie, while Lucas broke damn near every traffic law getting home. Lucas was already in his Impala and peeling away from the scene before he thought to turn on his siren to help him cut through the traffic. He barely remembered the drive home. His only thought had been to get there as fast as he could manage without killing himself or anyone else.

  When he’d burst in and seen Skye in nothing but his T-shirt, looking paler than the white sheets beside her, it had knocked the wind straight out of him. The only other time he’d felt bone-deep terror like that was when they’d heard the glass shatter at Lizzie’s diner.

  There was no denying it. He was falling for her. Hard. It seemed impossible given the short amount of time they’d known each other, but that didn’t make it any less true. Hell, anyone who spent more than two seconds in a room with them could probably tell he was crazy about her.

  Even so, and as much as he wished it was otherwise, now was not the time to start a relationship. The selfish side of him wondered if maybe they weren’t just wasting precious time, but when things could turn to shit at any moment, there was no room for distraction. Let’s be honest, they already had. They were way past the ‘turn to shit’ stage and were already knee-deep in the middle of it.

  Skye groaned in her sleep, then rolled over, her head falling onto his chest. Lucas moved to wrap his arm around her, letting her snuggle in closer. He shifted his head, pressing his nose into her nearly black silky hair, and breathed in the scent of her. It helped to ease some of the remaining storm inside of him. Holding her like this was exactly what he needed to regain his sanity and finally take an actual breath since he’d found her.

  Lucas pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Only sweet dreams, Giovanni.” He tried to keep his voice light, but it cracked when he said her name, his emotions seeping out with the words. “Nothing’s going to touch you, alright? Not while I’m here.”

  That wizard fucker—as Matthews so eloquently put it—was never going to get his hands on Skye again. Lucas looked down at her and ground his teeth together. The ring of bruises were visible on her neck in the soft moonlight that spilled in from his window.

  She’d told him everything, how the bastard had run his finger up her leg, and how he’d acted when she’d denied him.

  Motherfucker was going to pay for that. Tomorrow—or rather, today, since it was three in the morning—they were going to start scouring those journals looking for anything to help arm themselves against the Druid.

  Lucas’ mind raced back to the meeting they’d had with the other precinct and the photos they’d seen. The original crime scene had been just as brutal as the subsequent ones. Their M.E. also hadn’t been able to identify what the body had been burned with. Lucas hadn’t bothered to tell them to stop looking; that it was supernatural, not chemical.

  Runes had been painted on the wall just like before, but there’d been more of them. He wondered if it had something to do with this particular murder being the one that set everything else in motion.

  The media hadn’t caught wind of the murders yet, but it was only a matter of time. The public would panic, and his precinct would be under constant media watch, which would tie his hands when it came to requesting a surveillance team.

  There was no pattern to the victims themselves, as if the bastard was making his selections based on convenience. That was, of course, not taking into consideration the victims that he hadn’t managed to kill. Lizzie and Lucas had big ‘ol targets on their backs, and they were very much connected. But the actual murder victims were entirely random.

  The gender of the first victim had been female, while his others had all been male. They still hadn’t been able to ID those killed, and he was starting to wonder if they’d ever be able to tell the families their loved ones weren’t coming home.

  Skye let out another soft moan, and he looked down. Her face was scrunched up, as if she were having a nightmare. He scanned the room to make sure they were alone, t
hen pressed another kiss to her forehead, running his finger over the worried crease between her brows.

  “It’s just us, baby,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”

  Her face cleared, and Lucas finally closed his eyes to try and get some sleep.

  Chapter 33

  Skye

  Skye slept better than she had in a long time, which surprised the hell out of her considering she hadn’t expected to sleep a wink after her run-in with the cloak-wearing psychopath.

  She’d woken up determined. Skye was done being his play thing and, even more, she was tired of letting him rule her through fear. How dare he invade her dreams and use her defenseless state to attack her? Never again. Lucas was a Druid every bit as much as he was. It was time he acted like it. Of course, Lucas wouldn’t murder innocent people or anything near as gruesome, which, to her, made him even more powerful.

  He was kind, and kindness was a strength in and of itself.

  Mr. Murderous Rampage wanted a fight? Fine. But it was going to be on their terms, not his. No more running scared. Today, they were going to level the playing field because one way or another, Lucas was going to learn how to claim his power.

  Hopefully they didn’t end up getting themselves killed in the attempt.

  Skye tied off her hair and walked purposefully down the hall and into the kitchen.

  Lucas had already been up by the time she woke. He’d left a note on the pillow letting her know where he was so that she wouldn’t be worried. The sweetness of the gesture turned her insides to mush. She wished... Skye stopped the thought before it could be finished. This was no time to be selfish and wish for things she couldn’t have.

  “Morning,” she called, her voice sounding more husky than usual given the rather unconventional party favor the Druid had left her. Skye couldn’t bring herself to look at the vivid reminder of his attack, so she opted for rampant detachment instead.