Cave Of Bones
Dark Island Series Book Two
J. D. Matheny
Copyright © 2017 by J. D. Matheny
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Acknowledgments
About the Author
1
Powerful hands gripped her hips, holding her down firmly against the cold, hard slab. No amount of twisting or pushing resulted in the slightest movement whatsoever. She screamed out in defiance and frustration, “Get away! Leave me alone!” To lend gravity to her words she kicked out hard, but to no avail. The only difference was, instead of two hands holding her hips, one hand released and grasped the thigh of her kicking leg, pushing it down harshly. This action was followed by a voice; Jacob’s voice, whispering in her ear.
“I love you,” came the lovely voice she had missed so much, “I need this, please. To be together again.”
The hands were now both on her thighs. Big, powerful hands she felt helpless to cast off, no matter how hard she struggled. She changed tactics by relaxing. In turn, the hands pushed her thighs wide to each side as she felt her body being pulled closer toward the end of the slab where her feet already dangled uselessly.
The moment she felt herself stop sliding she bolted upright into a sitting position, at the same time swinging her right hand around in a fierce strike, intending to do some real damage, but her hand only struck something hard and ungiving, resulting in a sharp flare of pain. She didn’t dare look at the thing she struck but she didn’t need to.
If she had wanted to see, despite the overall darkness of the room, she could have. The flame would be lighting the face beneath it.
“You’re not Jacob, I know you’re not. Jacob would never hurt me.” With that, she lost what fight she had left in her and collapsed back against the hard, stony surface, resigned to what would happen next. She stared up to where the ceiling would be and tried to picture the man she had so quickly fallen in love with, and who she had so quickly lost. Tall and handsome, kind green eyes, and an air of tragedy about him, as if he were bracing up the wall of a dam he knew would collapse, like it was only a matter of time. All this would mean little to her if she could just see him again, hold him against her breast and tell him that nothing bad would happen to him. She would protect him. Every man, no matter how strong, needed shelter sometimes. To have that chance she would endure anything, even this. In her heart, she knew she wouldn’t get that chance, yet she would endure this anyway.
As if in answer her legs were pushed down harder, stretching her hips to their limit, and she felt a coldness down there. So unnatural, so unlike any cold she had felt before, striking at her naked upper thighs and warm center.
She felt a second surge of anger and defiance flash through her, despite how helpless she was against this thing. Her ire welled up in a scream that poured forth all the hate, desperation, and brutal loss she had felt for the last eight and a half months.
“GO … TO … HELL!”
There was a low, rumbling laughter that sounded as if it were rising from a deep pit, then she felt the cold down below push forward and enter her. So large and urgent, it felt as if it were tearing her apart. The icy march of it was unbearable and it didn’t just stop between her legs, but traveled up through her body and into her chest, spreading until she didn’t know whether she could ever feel warmth again. All the while, the mocking laughter continued.
Sophie woke with a start, the sheet, which was her only cover, sticking to her body like cling wrap. Sweat dripped down her sides, tickling as it went, making her feel as if she had spiders crawling along her skin. She took several long, deep breaths to try to slow her racing heart. By now, she felt she should be accustomed to this. Her dream, though terrible, wasn’t unique. She’d had several dreams over the last couple of weeks, and she remembered them all vividly. She wasn’t sure which were the worst. Those where that hideous beast of a man, all dark and muscular with the head of flames and missing face, forced himself upon her, with her helpless to resist. Or those where her sweet Jacob came to her, offering her cryptic stories of an angry and greedy God, and telling her, no matter what, she must not return to the island. She must not go back for him.
Those dreams were just as terrible. In those dreams she could feel him, hear his voice, smell his warm, musky scent. She would be brought back to the time they spent together. Reminded how she had thought of him as she had thought of no other, as a true soulmate. There had been something about Jacob that made her spirit sing, and there had been a pain in him, one that only lifted when they were together. Nothing had ever made her feel so happy, so loved, and so needed.
Yet the memory was also painful, perhaps more so than the cold invasion from the Other one. Him … It … Jacob was trying to warn her about this mysterious entity somehow, as if It were a real thing that must be feared. She knew he believed it, both in the next world where he spoke to her in her dreams, and the one before, where he was flesh and blood. Where he believed spirits and devils truly were a threat. On the horrible island where he had told her to run, just when she thought she had him convinced the threat was only in his mind. They could have dealt with the threat, could have gotten him help, but he panicked and let it overcome him, and in his sudden terror she had panicked as well. She had run. Not in fear of her Jacob, but in fear of his inner demons. Demons he had somehow brought to life in her, tearing through her mind in a moment of agony.
Look where it got them. They would never be together again. Could only be together in her memory of a past time in a distant place, or in restless nightmares. She couldn’t even accept support from the one remaining person who loved her, the man who had always looked out for her throughout her life, the person who had single-handedly destroyed her chance at love. Her brother, Thomas.
Always to the rescue came Thomas, ever since she was a little girl. When father was too busy at work Thomas was there to give her lessons on riding her first bike. When mother was too involved in her humanitarian projects to make a proper meal for her two children, Thomas would put on their mother’s apron to make her laugh and whip up a reasonable meal, just for the two of them. And when Sophie matured into
a young, beautiful woman with long, dark hair, and boys started ringing the phone and the doorbell, Thomas was always there to keep them in line and respectful.
On that day at the beach, over eight months ago, he had been there to protect her yet again. Only this time his protection backfired and instead of keeping her safe and happy, he had destroyed it all. She knew it wasn’t his fault, knew it in her heart. Nobody had the right to blame him or accuse him of any wrong doing.
There had been an investigation, of course. With the laid-back Police Commandant from Fiji and the sharp-tongued lady, Janice, from the embassy. Ultimately Thomas was released with no charges filed against him and the term ‘unfortunate accident’ was widely used to describe what happened, but to this day he still faced the unspoken accusations from his little sister. Despite her inner struggles to forgive him, and her vocalized sentiments of forgiveness to him early on, she still couldn’t bring herself to completely accept what had happened. She could barely speak to him, couldn’t be near him, to do so would be too cruel. He would see it in her eyes, feel the sharp stab of the spears she unwittingly cast at him.
Sophie didn’t have any desire to do that to him. She couldn’t help the part of her that still held him in judgement, but she could do him the kindness of avoiding him until she could face him without the bitterness hiding just behind her smile. When that might be, she couldn’t say, but her little one was coming soon, only a couple of weeks away, and she hoped that bringing her child into the world would be the final healing. Perhaps it might go the opposite way, increasing her bitterness because Jacob wouldn’t be there to hold his son, but Sophie was ever the optimist. Always the positive one. She had to believe she would want her big brother there to hold his first nephew in his arms, and upon witnessing that, could break down those barriers preventing her from accepting him.
Thinking about the baby’s arrival helped brush aside the remnants of the nightmare and her focus turned to her large belly. Looking down, she began to hum to her tummy and the little one inside, then reached both hands down to begin stroking, hoping the baby could feel her love and attention somehow. Her tummy felt cold to the touch, despite the rest of her being hot. Reaching out with her left hand, she grabbed the blanket that had been pushed up against the wall at some point during the night, and doubling it up, laid it out over her belly. Just then there was a gentle rapping at the bedroom door. Her roommate, Stacy.
“Come in,” she said softly, even though they were the only two in the home, and obviously both awake.
The doorknob turned and the door opened slowly, just a half foot or so. Stacy’s head peeked in tentatively through the small opening.
“Everything okay, Sophie? I heard some moaning. More nightmares?”
“Sorry, Stacy, I didn’t realize I was making any noise. Did I wake you?”
“No biggie,” Stacy said, with a forgiving smile. “It’s almost four-thirty, my alarm was set for five a.m. anyway. Tomorrow is the Jenkins’ wedding, gotta lot to do.” Stacy was a Wedding Planner and good at it. Likely, she would have been planning her and Jacob’s wedding, if things had turned out differently. She walked in as she spoke, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been a chatterbox at night this last week or two. I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I can hear you talking a lot. I hope you’ll talk to me if you’re getting overly anxious.” She reached under the blanket and rubbed Sophie’s tummy. “Cold,” she said with a frown.
Sophie reached over the blanket and placed her hand over Stacy’s, enjoying the comforting touch and the warmth from her friend’s hand. “I’m fine Stacy, really. Just some bad dreams lately. I’m sure it’s just the normal stuff, waiting for the big day. I’ve obviously never given birth before, and I’m sure I’m not the first new mother to wonder how the heck that,” she pointed to her swollen belly, “is supposed to fit through there.” She gestured toward her hips and laughed.
“Well, honestly? I don’t know how you mothers do it! I’m never having kids, Sophie. I’ll just be fun Aunty Stacy and that’s good enough for me. I’m just not as tough as you are. You’ll get through it like the badass bitch you truly are.” She stood then and stepped out of the door, uttered an order to her pregnant roommate to get some more sleep, then slipped the door shut and was gone.
Smiling, Sophie looked back down to her belly and told the baby, “Don’t you listen to your Aunt Stacy and her foul language now, your mama is just a big softie.” She gave herself another rub, trying to spread some warmth and comfort, then drifted back to sleep.
2
The phone rang again for the third time in as many hours, just as Sophie was also leaving the bathroom for the third time in as many hours. Having several pounds sitting on your bladder makes sticking near a restroom a necessity, she found. Pausing in front of her recliner, she considered the phone for a moment, then ignored it and sat with a huff. The ringing continued as she picked up her crossword book and began looking at the clues, without reading any. Her focus was on the ringing. Usually such persistence indicated one person. Thomas.
Part of her yearned to answer, yet the part that dreaded hearing his pleas for forgiveness usually won out and she would leave the phone where it sat. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to forgive him; the process had already started months ago. It was the reminder of what happened she still struggled with. Thomas couldn’t get through thirty-seconds of a phone call without telling her how sorry he was, how what happened was just a terrible thing done with good intentions. Sophie understood, but still, it was a constant tearing at the scabs of wounds not yet healed. If only Thomas could call and talk of nothing but baby room colors and whatever his latest girlfriend was like, that would make things so different, but she was beginning to understand his motivation. She was beginning to realize she had forgiven her brother more completely than he had forgiven himself.
The thought brought out the maternal instinct in her and she looked back at the still chirping phone, contemplated it a moment more, then grabbed for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Sophie, it’s me. I … I wasn’t expecting an answer.”
“Good morning, Thomas, how have you been?” The question was a sincere one.
“Missing you, little sister, that’s how I’ve been. Thank you for picking up. I was worried. I didn’t know if you’d speak to me before the baby came. Only, what, thirteen more days?”
“So dutiful,” she said, impressed, “do you have it on a calendar or something?”
“Guilty. Listen, Sophie, let’s just clear the air and get this out of the way. I really need you to understand how sor—”
“Thomas, please,” Sophie cut in, “I understand and the air is clear up here. I’d rather discuss other things. Can we do that? Can we just talk about normal, everyday, brother and sister stuff?” She could hear the relief on the other end of the line.
“Absolutely. Thank you, sis. I have a better idea then a friendly phone chat, what say you let me take you out to lunch? I can pick you up, take you to Dawson’s so we can sit outside by the lake?”
“Tell you what, how about we skip being by the lake and you just cater for me at home? Wanna pick something up and bring it over, say noon?” She could hear the smile in his reply.
“It’s a deal. Can’t wait to see you, sis. Be there at noon.”
Sophie looked at the clock, saw she had two and a half hours until Thomas arrived. Scrutinizing the space around her, she couldn’t find a single loose hair or speck of dust. All the electrical outlets had child covers. Every small object was placed high up off the floor. It was somewhat disappointing, not having something to do. Something that would make her feel even better prepared to bring a child into the home. She’d been spending so much time cleaning and sanitizing that what she really needed was some rest.
She decided she had plenty of time for a hot bath. There was a time when she loved nothing more than sinking into a tub full of near scalding water with a good book but for the first six mon
ths of her pregnancy she had avoided them completely. The water carried bad memories for her. Still, with all the extra weight she was now lugging around, bathing and being off her feet was a luxury she couldn’t pass up.
Once the tub was done filling she let her robe fall, doting for a moment on her reflection in the mirror, and eased down into the steamy water with a deep sigh of pleasure. It wasn’t until then she realized she forgot to grab her book and uttered a silent curse, under her breath where the baby couldn’t hear. With nothing to read she settled down deep into the water and let her mind drift, thinking about the terrifying prospect of giving birth, the joy she felt at the prospect of having her baby placed on her chest, and what she would name the child. Names were difficult. She elected to leave the gender a surprise. Her first thought had been to name the baby Jacob if it were a boy but she was concerned the name might carry too much grief with it. It was still up for debate. If it were a girl, she leaned toward Lani, like her grandmother. Her mind began rattling through lists of options, trying to find the perfect one she could feel concrete about. She was still thinking through names as she drifted off to sleep.
In her dream, she was floating in water on her back, staring up at a cloudless sky full of twinkling stars. The water wasn’t as hot as bathwater, but it was warm and comforting, like being in a womb herself. It was so near the same temperature as her body that soon she began to lose track of herself completely, feeling as though she wasn’t in a body anymore, she was just a being. At one with the water below and the sky above. It was the most beautiful and peaceful feeling she had ever experienced and she felt she could continue like this forever, in total contentment.
Cave of Bones (Dark Island Series Book 2) Page 1
