by Trisha Telep
“The Blackstone family was well known around here. If it hadn’t been for Thomas Blackstone this town would have died years ago. He got a lot of the businesses going. I remember meeting him when I was young, a big jovial man, always smiling. That is until his grandson died. No one saw him much after that.
“Everyone here was really happy when your grandmother moved in. Businesses began thriving again from all the work your grandmother sent their way.” Susie shook her head. “The only thing no one in town could figure out was why Thomas Blackstone had left the place to her. Why do you leave a mansion to somebody you never knew?”
“My grandmother inherited Blackstone Manor?” Amanda asked, shocked at the news.
“You didn’t know that, honey? Your grandmother didn’t tell you?”
Amanda was relieved when Susie got called to pick up an order. “Why did Gram lead everyone to believe she bought the place?”
Mitch reached out and took hold of her hand. “I don’t know, but I do know that people don’t leave valuable property to strangers. There’s a connection there somewhere and we need to find it.”
They finished their meal and returned home, going straight to the computer, but found nothing that connected Sophia Barnes with Thomas Blackstone. They continued their hunt well past midnight, until finally their continuous yawns drove them toward the bed.
They both changed their clothes – in separate rooms – then stood staring down at the bed.
“I have to say something before we get into bed together,” Mitch said.
Amanda waited.
“I’m attracted to you, have been since I first saw you standing outside when I pulled up in my car. I’ve had the urge to kiss you long before that damn ghost got in the way.” He shook his head. “I can’t get the thought of making love to you out of mind. It haunts me as much as the ghost haunts this house. I’ve never felt like this before and . . .” He took a fortifying breath. “I want to make sure it’s real because, if it is, I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to let you go.”
Amanda couldn’t help it; she was so thrilled that she chuckled.
His eyes turned wide. “Do that again.”
“What?”
“That little laugh.”
She found it easy to do again, still delighted with the turn of events.
“That’s the chuckle I’ve been hearing.”
“But I haven’t done it before.” She gasped. “I’ve been told repeatedly that I sound just like Gram when I do it.”
“I should have known,” Mitch said. “The signs were obvious. There isn’t one ghost here, there are two.”
“Grams is here?”
“No doubt she’s the one affecting the lights. New ghosts have a tendency to do that, whereas older ghosts can materialize easily. I wonder why she remains here.”
The ghost of Michael Blackstone appeared so suddenly that they both jumped – startled. Mitch didn’t hesitate. He skittered across the bed and wrapped an arm around Amanda.
“Where’s Gram? I want to see her.”
Blackstone pointed at Amanda once again.
“I don’t know what you want,” she cried out to him. “Please, I want to see Grams.”
He disappeared as fast as he had materialized.
“I don’t understand,” Amanda said, close to tears.
“I think I do.” Mitch took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. “He wasn’t pointing at you. He was pointing at the portrait of your grandmother.”
Amanda and Mitch scrambled up onto the bed and felt along the edges of the picture frame. Mitch found a latch, and the portrait slowly moved away from the wall to reveal a wall safe. There was a note attached to it.
Amanda read Gram’s message.
The combination is hidden where you spent hours of play as a young child.
Amanda ran to Gram’s vanity dresser with the triple mirror. She remembered sitting on the floor when she was a girl, watching her grandmother get ready for parties or dinner guests.
She opened the bottom drawer on the right side of the vanity, took out a floral cloth-covered box and opened it. It was full of the costume jewelry her grandmother had given her to play with. Tucked among the mound of jewelry was a folded piece of paper.
Amanda smiled and hurried to the wall safe, quickly feeding in the combination. The door popped open to reveal a brown leather journal. She took it out and hugged it to her chest.
Mitch closed the safe and clicked the portrait back into position.
The two sat on the bed, Mitch’s arm around her waist.
She snuggled against him, glad he was there to share this moment with her. When she opened the journal, a letter fell out. They both read it silently.
My dearest Amanda,
This letter will briefly explain everything, and my journal tells the rest of the story. Let the world know if you want, for it is a grand romance. Since you’re reading this, Michael has succeeded in helping you find it. Please don’t mourn me. My time has come to an end and I must journey on. But I could not leave you, my granddaughter, the love of my life, without explaining everything.
Many years ago when I was young and just starting my acting career, I volunteered my time with the USO. I danced with many soldiers, handed out food and listened to their stories. One night I danced with an army officer. As soon as he took me in his arms, I knew we were meant to be. That officer was Michael Blackstone.
We had one glorious night together. When he left the next day, he promised me he’d be back and we’d be together for ever. But he never came back. I feared the worst since I knew in my heart he loved me and meant to return. It took almost a year to find out what happened to him. His death devastated me. I never found a love like that again, never found a man who could melt my heart with a simple touch or make my body quiver with just one kiss. Instead, I went from marriage to marriage until I finally gave up.
When I found out that I had inherited Blackstone Manor I was shocked. No one in the Blackstone family had ever contacted me. Even the lawyer wondered why the house was left to me.
I found out why on my first night in the house, when Michael came to me. In dreams he explained everything.
Oh my darling, Amanda, I had never been so happy to see Michael and feel his touch again after all those years. It may seem crazy to you but the years spent in this house with him were some of the best years of my life. I felt alive again and, even more startling, I didn’t fear death, for I knew Michael would be there to greet me and we would finally be truly together.
Know that I am happy and that I love you dearly.
One last important thing. In your dreams, you’ll find the truth. It is there that your yearning desires will conjure up the man of your dreams and bring him to you, though I think I’ve given you a bit of a nudge in the right direction. You have talents you’re just beginning to discover, but then perhaps Mitch Connell can help you develop them.
Kisses and hugs, my darling. Live and love well!
Gram
P.S. How appropriate it would be if Blackstone Manor became a center dedicated to gathering data on ghosts and teaching those who have a talent for seeing them. You could call it the Sophia Barnes Center for Ghostly Phenomenon.
Amanda jumped off the bed and hurried to the table next to the pink velvet chaise lounge. She ran her finger along the stack of books piled there and eased one out, flipping through the pages. She stopped at a picture of Mitch speaking before a large audience. Tucked between the pages was a picture of Amanda taken about a year ago.
“I remember now. One day when I was young, I had told Grams that I had seen a ghost looking out one of the windows while I was in the backyard. She told me it was nonsense and, after a heated debate, I told her that it was easy to see ghosts and I didn’t know what all the fuss was about. I told her that one day I would prove it to everyone.” Amanda shook her head. “But all my thoughts of ghosts faded over the years, until I had completely forgotten it all.”
&
nbsp; “No, you tucked the ghosts away until the time was right and you were ready.”
Amanda smiled. “Gram left the books where she knew I would find them; her chaise is my favorite spot for reading. And she placed you in my thoughts before any of these strange activities started.”
“I like your grandmother.”
Gram’s chuckle sounded loud and clear, and they both smiled.
“I think she likes you too.”
Amanda wasn’t surprised to see Michael Blackstone materialize in his favorite corner. He smiled and nodded at them.
“Take good care of Grams and give her a kiss for me.”
Blackstone nodded and waved. Just when Amanda thought he would vanish, her grandmother suddenly appeared. She was younger-looking – so very beautiful – and wore the happiest smile. She blew Amanda a kiss, and then Michael slipped his arm around her and together they vanished.
Amanda ran to the spot where her grandmother had stood. “It’s over,” she said with a touch of sorrow.
“No, it’s not,” Mitch said advancing on her. “It’s just beginning.”
A shot of desire hit her like Cupid’s arrow and spread like wildfire.
“You do realize that it was me you conjured in your dreams, me who touched you, me who you desired.”
“It makes sense—” she shook her head “—and then it doesn’t. I had been reading your book before I fell asleep and had seen my picture next to yours, so I suppose one could say it was a subliminal suggestion that conjured the dream.”
He scooped her up. “You have a special gift, Amanda. You travel the dream world and bring people into it. I could use a business partner with your unique talents, but first . . . it’s time that dream became a reality.”
“I always believed that dreams could come true.”
“Tonight, Amanda, I’m going to make all your dreams come true.”
As he lowered her to the bed, the lights went out.
Seventeen Coppers
Jeannie Holmes
Day 10, Season of the Sun
53rd Octavian Cycle
“I want you to steal my husband.”
Ro Vargas choked on her honey water. Coughing, she set the earthenware mug on the table with a loud thump. She dabbed moisture from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand and leveled her gaze on the well-dressed woman sitting across from her. “I beg your pardon?”
Lady Helena Duffy straightened her spine. “I want you to steal my husband,” she repeated softly.
“I don’t know what you were told about me, but if you and your husband are looking for a little excitement in the bedchamber, you’ve come to the wrong woman.”
Confusion cloaked Lady Helena’s face until the shock of Ro’s words sank in. “Stars preserve us,” she whispered, her shoulders rounding in defeat. “I’ve made a right mess of things, haven’t I?”
Ro sipped her honey water and waited for the woman to gather her composure. Looking around the open-air tavern, she was certain they made one of the stranger pairings. Lady Duffy was an aristocrat in fine silks, with flawless porcelain skin and her thick hair swept into a tidy chignon. No doubt she would be seen by others as the perfect example of a high-born woman. By contrast, Ro was an armed half-Fae bastard wearing a tattered short coat, faded breeches and scuffed boots – a Dreg.
And yet no one glanced more than once in their direction.
Ithe, the capital city of Asthega, was the first stop along the country’s northern and western trade routes. The harbor brought merchant ships laden with textiles, spices and other goods from overseas. Anything that didn’t find its way to the Queen’s Market was sent out of the city on great steam-driven cargo engines or by airships.
Inevitably where legitimate trade prospered, smugglers and black markets thrived. However, most native Ithians turned blind eyes to the shadow economy that kept so many of them alive. Ro, with her bastard birth and Dreg status, was largely ignored by all Ithians, which only heightened her impatience to learn why a noble woman had purposely sought her out.
“Miss Vargas,” Lady Helena began, “you misunderstand my intentions.” She glanced around at the neighboring tables. “I have it on good authority that you’re a woman skilled in the – shall we say – acquiring arts, and I wish to retain your services.”
Only a high-born woman could call someone a thief and make it sound like a compliment. Despite the instincts screaming for her to leave, Ro leaned forward. “I’m curious. What exactly do you want me to do, my lady?”
“My husband, Everett, was stolen.”
“He was kidnapped?”
“No, not exactly.” Lady Helena plucked at the tasseled drawstring of her velvet purse. “A foreign man named Dacat murdered Everett, and then stole him before I was able to transport his ecto-impression to the Well of Souls.”
“I see.” Ro frowned. She’d heard of the Well of Souls and the practice of transferring ecto-impressions – the life force left behind when a person died – to the Well, but she’d never met anyone who could afford to do it.
The poor simply hung black flags over doorways and entrusted the remains of their loved ones to the Ithian Government for interment in paupers’ graves. Numerous superstitions regarding ecto-impressions had taken root among the lower classes as a result. Ro, however, placed little faith in those superstitions.
“Why would Dacat kill your husband?”
“Everett owed Dacat a great deal of money, and when he couldn’t pay, Dacat killed him.”
“Not an uncommon practice. I assume Dacat is planning to sell the orb.”
Lady Duffy nodded.
Ro sighed. Rumors had spread throughout Ithe of pirates in eastern Asthega retrofitting airships to run off the residual energy present in ecto-orbs. Airships powered by these orbs were supposedly faster and more maneuverable than their traditional steam-driven counterparts. However, siphoning off an orb’s energy destroyed the trapped ecto-impression. It was a slow death for the dead.
Lady Helena sniffed and produced an embroidered handkerchief to blot away the moisture gathering in her eyes. “I want the orb returned. I need to know my husband is at peace, Miss Vargas.”
Ro felt a stab of sympathy. “Where can I find Dacat, my lady?”
“He’s here in Ithe. I’ve learned he’s to leave tomorrow but will pass through the market after the sun’s zenith.”
Ro stared into the depths of her honey water, weighing the risks of pilfering something as valuable as an ecto-orb in daylight and in full view of a crowded market.
Lady Helena drew a deep breath and squared her thin shoulders. “Naturally, I’ll compensate you for your efforts and any losses you may incur. A mourning ship, the Kresa, is leaving for the Well at dawn the day after tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t leave me much time to prepare, my lady.”
“I used nearly all the money left to me to have Everett’s ecto-impression entombed until I could see him safely to the Well. But if you bring my husband’s orb to me before the ship leaves, twenty coppers shall be your reward.”
Ro fought to contain her excitement. Twenty coppers was more money than she could acquire in an entire season of picking pockets in the market. “Give me half now, and it’s a deal.”
“I don’t have that much presently.” Lady Helena tugged open her velvet purse and retrieved three shiny copper coins. “I can give you these as a retainer and the rest upon delivery of the orb.”
Ro held out her hand and grinned as the coins clinked in her palm. “I’ll see you at dawn the day after tomorrow.”
As the sun reached its apex the following day, shadows shriveled to narrow strips near merchant stalls, and the tips of Ro’s delicately pointed ears felt as though they were on fire. Despite her discomfort, she stifled a smile as she surveyed one of the market’s main thoroughfares. Brightly colored banners and flags sprouted from the tops of the trade stalls lining the street. Merchants called to shoppers, hawked their wares and insulted the quality of their
neighbors’ offerings.
The annual airship festival was held in Ithe to commemorate Queen Octavia’s coronation as the country’s sovereign ruler – not that her reign warranted celebration, in Ro’s mind. But the festival had two primary benefits for which Ro did find cause to rejoice: the increased number of people jamming the open-air marketplace and the purses they carried, heavy with coppers and the occasional gem. The thought of being surrounded by that much wealth made her fingers itch in anticipation.
She rubbed the raised scar on the palm of her hand. A slick ridge of flesh, the scar’s twin puckered the skin along the back of her hand. The result of a broken dagger thrust through her hand as a child. She’d been caught stealing food, and the merchant used the dagger to pin her in place until the Peacemakers arrived.
Her skills for pilfering what she needed to survive had much improved.
Nearby, a goodwife with three young children in tow dropped half a dozen coppers into the gloved hand of a merchant as he, in turn, passed a heavily wrapped package to her. The goodwife returned the small cloth pouch to a pocket in her skirts. It would be so easy for Ro to follow the woman and bump into her when the crowd naturally slowed and congested. She’d lift the pouch and escape into that same crowd without the woman ever knowing.
But she forced herself to take a deep breath and exhale. Her instructions were clear and lifting a purse or two would only jeopardize the task before her. Additionally, she made it a point to never steal from children.
Then again, the goodwife’s casual attitude and lackadaisical security would make the picking easy, and go far to alleviate the hunger pains in her belly. She’d used the coppers Lady Helena gave her to purchase supplies for the assignment. There hadn’t been much left for food.
