There was something disturbingly sensual about the stranger and his actions. At the same time, he appeared almost sinister in his single-minded devotion to his craft, as if he was chained there by the fire and his work, pounding away at some inner demon only he could see.
Hayley found herself moving stealthily closer, drawn by the rhythmic force of his blows, awed by the beauty they were creating. He thrust the rod back into the flames once more. She moved even closer, determined to see what he was crafting with such intensity.
She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but without warning, he turned. The white-hot piece of metal waved only inches from her face. Hayley froze, unable to utter a sound. She felt as if that glowing tip had actually branded her flesh.
“Who the devil are you?” he demanded gruffly, using the hammer to push back his protective goggles and survey her. The disturbing heat of his gaze seemed far hotter than his fire, but at least it broke the spell holding her mute.
Hayley exhaled and raised her chin. “I’d be careful calling on the devil if I were you. You already look like you’re standing over the fires of hell.”
The man blinked in surprise. The corners of his lips darted upward for just a second, but the hint of a smile disappeared before it could form fully and the somber, dark mask settled back over his features.
“A good reason for you to run away, little girl.”
A strange tingle traveled straight up her spine. His voice was as deep and soft as crushed velvet. He rocked back on his heels, surveying her in a blatant challenge she couldn’t ignore.
“Personally, I prefer aerobics to running. I also prefer petite to little. And I haven’t been a girl for a number of years.”
The momentary softening of his mouth hinted at more amusement, quickly hidden. “Yeah? How many?”
She should have been nervous. At the very least, she told herself, she should be cautious. Yet somehow she sensed no real menace from the man, despite his brooding looks. Instead, she sensed an aura of sadness about him that immediately stirred her curiosity.
“I’m old enough to know you’re trespassing on private property.” She forced herself to respond lightly.
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. Want to put your weapons down, or do you think you’ll need a hammer and a poker to ward me off?”
A grin slid across his features so fast she couldn’t be sure she’d actually seen one. He set the hammer aside with deliberate care. The glowing metal hissed loudly, sending a vapor stream into the darkness of the night as he plunged the object into a large tin of water.
“I’ll risk it,” he told her.
“So, who are you? What are you doing here?”
“I don’t think you’re the one who should be asking the questions. I was hired to be here. What about you?”
Anger washed over her. “Marcus,” she cursed.
“I gather you know the owner?” he questioned.
“You’re looking at the owner.”
Slowly, he began tugging off his gloves, but not before she had the satisfaction of seeing his surprise.
“A little young, aren’t you?”
“You seem fascinated by my age.”
He watched her, his face mostly in shadow now, giving him an even darker, more brooding appearance.
“You’re a fascinating person,” he told her softly.
Her breath caught in her throat. A current of awareness arced between them. Disconcerted, she shook her head against the powerful impact he seemed to be having on her senses. Not all the heat seemed to be coming from the forge.
“Look, it’s getting late and I’ve just had a tiring drive,” she said quickly. “Is Marcus home?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Okay. Then do you have a key to get past that fancy gate you put over my back door?”
“Your door,” he said mildly, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of those closely fitted jeans.
“Yes, my door. The name is Hayley Hart Thomas. As of two weeks ago, Heartskeep in its entirety belongs to me and my sister.”
It was only a slight exaggeration. Two weeks ago their mother had been officially declared dead. There was no other living person with any legal right to lay claim to the estate.
The blacksmith regarded her steadily while seconds ticked silently past. Full dark descended. The waves of heat emanating from the fire seemed to fill the night, blocking normal sounds. She gave a small start when he finally spoke again. This time, his voice was bare of inflection.
“No keys, Ms. Thomas. You’ll have to take that up with Mr. Thomas.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to.” Bitterly she decided she might have to call the police after all. “Sorry I disturbed you.” Gathering her anger like a cloak, she spun around. After taking two steps, she paused to look over her shoulder. The stranger hadn’t moved.
“And I want my lions back.”
His eyebrows raised at her demand.
“Do you mean the old stone lions that used to be at the main entrance? Mr. Thomas wanted them destroyed—”
“You didn’t!”
“No, actually I didn’t. I had them taken to my shop.”
Relief swelled inside her. He still had her lions. “Where is that?”
“Tucked up in the hills about an hour’s drive northwest of here. I doubt you’ve ever heard of the place. Murett Township doesn’t appear on most maps.”
He was right. She’d never heard of it. “I want them replaced the way they were. Excuse me while I go have a nice long chat with my father. Have a good evening, Mr.—”
“Myers,” he supplied. “Bram Myers.”
“Well, Mr. Myers, it was interesting talking with you. You’ll have to forgive me for running off, but it looks like I need to drive a car through one of your clever gates to get inside my own house.”
He rocked back on his heels. Once again she sensed an underlying amusement. “Now why do I think you’re ready to do exactly that?”
“Good instincts?”
“Try the front door,” he suggested softly. “I haven’t completed the design for that gate.”
Hayley hesitated. “I will. And Mr. Myers, I wouldn’t waste time creating any more gates or bars for Heartskeep if I were you.”
Hayley plunged back down the pitch dark path toward the house. She didn’t dare look back. Bram Myers was entirely too disconcerting for comfort. She had never seen a sexier man in all her life. Too bad she was going to have to fire him in the morning.
She wished there was a moon overhead as she made her way cautiously around the house to the front door. Curiously, she didn’t even need her key. The tarnished brass knob twisted easily beneath her fingers. The door swung wide, revealing a black, cavernous interior that was far from inviting. Hayley could barely see to step over the threshold. She searched along the wall for the remembered light switch, relieved when her fingers closed over it. But nothing happened.
A large chandelier hung over the foyer. One bulb might be burned out, but not all of them. Obviously, the electricity wasn’t working again. The house had an empty, deserted feeling. Where was everyone?
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
Her voice seemed to echo hollowly.
Straight ahead, the formal grand staircase rose imperiously to the second floor. Beyond it was the incredibly large, one-of-a-kind living room. On her right was the library, and to her left, the narrow, formal parlor her grandfather had converted into a waiting room for Marcus’s patients.
Hayley knew a moment of shock when she sensed the door to that parlor standing wide open. Except during office hours, Marcus always kept that door closed and locked.
Despite her unease, she was drawn to the opening. She set down her case and crossed to the entrance, stepping warily inside. The bank of windows on her left was covered by thick, heavy drapes, so there wasn’t even a faint trace of light in the waiting room.
“Hello? Is anyone home?”
A whisper of sound slithered
to life from somewhere inside. Common sense told her to leave. Fear told her to run. Sternly, Hayley told herself she wasn’t a child. This was her home. She had nothing to fear here.
“Hello?”
Shoving back a long tendril of hair that had worked its way loose from her ponytail, she stepped into the dark recess of the room.
“Is someone in here?”
No one answered, but there was a definite slither of sound that sent prickles of alarm straight up her spine. It was impossible to pinpoint the source of the noise, yet she sensed someone standing nearby. Someone who obviously didn’t intend to make his or her presence known.
As Hayley stepped forward cautiously, her leg made unexpected contact with a hard object. Her fingers identified the reception desk, even as her eyes strained to pierce the uncanny blackness of the room. Visions from every horror movie she had ever seen rushed to paint images in her mind. There was a feeling of wrongness in here that was almost physical.
A disturbing chill suddenly brushed her skin. Hayley sensed rather than saw a movement in the ominous well of blackness pooled at the opening that had once led into the formal ballroom. The heavy door now led to the corridor her grandfather had created when he’d converted a portion of the ballroom into a bathroom, laboratory and exam rooms for Marcus. The narrow hall ended at an office.
Hayley held her breath. She felt sure someone stood in that pocket of shadow, silently watching her. The sense of menace seemed to swell until she turned and bolted back into the hall.
She noticed the tall, looming shape too late to avoid a collision.
A scream tore from the depths of her soul. Hands closed roughly around her shoulders. Even as dry-mouthed fear enveloped her, she instinctively lashed out with her foot. There was a soft grunt of pain as she connected with a shin. Her attacker released her.
“Take it easy, will you? I’m not going to hurt you.”
A core of remaining sanity placed the voice. A powerful shaft of light emerged from a flashlight in his hand. She was momentarily blinded by the beam before he aimed it away from her face. His harsh features wavered into view.
“Sorry if I startled you,” Bram Myers said quietly.
“Startled?” Her heart raced as if she’d run a mile. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“That would have been a real shame. Not to mention a spectacular problem.”
His wry humor steadied her frazzled nerves. “What are you doing in here?”
“I came to be sure you hadn’t driven your car through a door like you threatened.”
“Very funny.” She couldn’t stop trembling. It had been such a long day, and he was standing too near.
“What happened to the lights?”
“They aren’t working,” she bit out.
“I noticed.” He swung the beam so it spanned the empty hall, causing shadows to leap and writhe. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”
“Of course I’m shaking. You scared the heck out of me.”
“The way you came bursting out of that room, I have a feeling I’m not the only thing that scared you.”
Flustered, she struggled for a composure she was far from feeling. “There’s someone in there. Whoever it is wouldn’t answer when I called out.”
He tensed. “Wait here.”
Before she could stop him, Bram strode through the opening. Hayley followed on his heels, secretly relieved by his reassuring presence. His flashlight brought the dark room to spooky life. The drapes were of thick, heavy damask. Empty chairs sat in a line in front of them.
“Inviting. I hope you’re planning on having a decorator come in,” he said mildly.
“Cute.”
The beam of light swept behind the desk to reveal the heavy, dark wood double doors that led back to Marcus’s lair. They were closed, sealing off the converted rooms. Her stomach lurched.
“One of those doors was open a second ago,” she whispered.
Bram spared her a look. Crossing to them, he reached for the knob. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
He rattled the handle. “It’s locked now. Want me to break it open?”
Yes, she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t push the word past lips that felt numb. Someone had stood in that doorway only a minute ago. She was sure of it.
“I can force it open if you want me to, but are you sure it wasn’t your imagination playing tricks? It would certainly be understandable. Without light, this room is as dark as the inside of a coffin.”
To prove his point, he shut off the flashlight, plunging them into a total void. Hayley stifled a gasp. Bram went on talking.
“I’m standing right here and I can’t even see the doors, much less tell if they’re open or closed. It would be a shame to kick them in if you’re wrong. They don’t make interior doors of solid cherry anymore.”
Had the door been open? Was it possible her imagination had taken over? It had been a long day, after all. Hayley was tired from the drive and stressed by what she’d found here—to say nothing of how furious Marcus would be if she damaged something.
Why was she worried about that? This was her house, a tiny voice shouted inside her head. Still, she hesitated. Could she have been wrong?
“What happened to the electricity?” Bram asked abruptly. He snapped the flashlight back on, to her intense relief.
“I don’t know.” She cursed the quaver in her voice, but she couldn’t even control the shakes that rippled through her body. “Don’t you sense it?” she whispered before she could stop herself.
He regarded her steadily. “Sense what?”
The wrongness, she wanted to shout. Instead, she shook her head. “Never mind. The house feels…empty.”
“You just said someone was in here.”
“Forget it.” Thoroughly embarrassed, she turned back to the main hall.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we ought to see if we can get some lights on. Do you know where the fuse box is?”
Gratefully, she nodded. “There’s one in the kitchen, inside the pantry.”
“Show me?”
He moved to within inches of where she stood. She’d known he was a big man, but having him this close made her feel small and fragile.
“Don’t patronize me,” she warned him.
“That wasn’t my intention. Would you prefer I leave?”
“No! No,” she said more calmly, drawing a deep breath. “I’m a little rattled. I don’t understand what’s going on here, either. Where is everyone? Mrs. Walsh? Kathy? Someone should be here. Someone must be here. The front door was unlocked.”
“It was?” He appeared mildly surprised.
“Yes!”
He held up a palm. “Okay, take it easy. Are you always this defensive?”
“Only since—” Since she’d gotten the lawyer’s letter, requesting that she come home to discuss a problem. Hayley could hardly say that to a total stranger. “Since I got here and found everything changed.”
“I can see where that might be unnerving. I’m afraid I haven’t spoken with anyone in a couple of days now. I’ve been staying in the old barn by the forge while I complete the work your father hired me to do. I’m afraid I don’t know any of the people you just mentioned. I’ve only spoken with your parents since I got here.”
“My father and his wife,” she corrected. Then, not wanting to explain, and disconcerted from standing this close to him, she turned away. “The kitchen’s back this way.”
His light swept the hall ahead of them as she set off quickly. She wondered if he’d ever been inside the sprawling mansion before, and if he had, what he’d thought of the incredible rooms that stretched up to the huge skylights. Normally, moonlight would have made the interior clearly visible, but tonight clouds blocked the light and the house felt like some vast, empty cavern.
“Was your father expecting you?” Bram asked.
“I didn’t call to tell him I was on my way home,
if that’s what you mean.”
Bram didn’t respond. If he was wondering about her relationship with Marcus, he didn’t ask. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was a little surprised he hadn’t demanded some sort of proof of her identity. She could have been lying. On the other hand, it wasn’t his job to protect Heartskeep—except by covering all the openings with metal grillwork. She should be grateful for his presence, or at least for the presence of his flashlight. And she was—it was just that she was having a strange reaction to being this close to him.
The kitchen was a dark, silent shell. The light switch clicked uselessly. “The pantry is right over there,” she told him, pointing to the closed door.
Funny. Growing up here she’d never viewed all this heavy, dark wood paneling as gloomy. The house had seemed a warm, comforting haven in her childhood. The feeling was gone now, just like her mother and grandfather.
Bram opened the pantry door and stepped inside. “Big place,” was his only comment.
Hayley couldn’t argue. The house was enormous. Rooms, closets—every aspect of the house was large. She watched as he studied the electric panel for a moment. Finally he flipped a large breaker. Nothing happened.
“Power lines must be down.”
“That happens when it storms, but it’s not storming tonight,” she pointed out. “At least, not yet.”
“No,” he agreed, “but a car could have taken down a utility pole or something. Maybe that’s why everyone is gone. Not exactly what you’d call a cozy place without lights. Have you got another place to stay for the night?”
Situated high above the Hudson River, northeast of Saratoga Springs, Heartskeep was a good distance from its closest neighbor and the small town of Stony Ridge. There were neighbors she could call, but Hayley hated the idea of imposing on people she hadn’t seen in years.
“Not really, but it isn’t as if I’ll freeze or something without electricity. I can always light some candles.”
“You plan to stay here alone? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
The Firstborn Page 2
