Shadows in the Mist: A Paranormal Anthology

by Kristine Cayne

  I wanted to hold Patrick down, crawl all over him and memorize every line of his body, both manmade and natural. I wanted to map him out and then examine my findings on those endless lonely nights when the only visitors I received were pesky otters.

  My brain came to attention when Patrick stepped out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam trailing him. Ignoring me, he lumbered across the room. My gaze roamed over his body, noting how his wet hair curled around his ears and brushed against the neck of his black t-shirt. Jeans hugged strong thighs as he bent over and rummaged through drawers, snatching clothes and tucking them into a backpack.

  He stood and finally looked at me with those steely-confident eyes. My face burned but I couldn’t force my gaze away. The left side of his upper lip arched in a smirk. My ribs squished all the air from my lungs.

  Kissmekissmekissme.

  “Did you make coffee?”

  I nodded, gulping back my ridiculous prayer.

  “Good.” He stomped to the bar and poured the remaining dregs into the other to-go cup. Then he turned and raked his eyes over my body while grabbing a black pea coat off the back of the chair.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” I tugged my jacket back on.

  We stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, sealing us in with the angst wafting between our bodies. I stood slightly ahead of Patrick and focused hard on the lighted buttons of the control panel. But his reflection in the steel door showed his gaze drilling into the back of my head.

  Ours were the only footfalls in the vast garage. Patrick clicked his remote and a red BMW came to life.

  “I didn’t think you could rent anything this fancy,” I said as I admired the sleek sedan.

  He grunted and held the door for me. As I slipped in, he took my bag and stalked to the trunk. The deck lid opened and then banged shut. A few seconds later Patrick slid behind the wheel.

  “Do you know how to drive on the right side of the road?” I asked.

  He grunted again. Cold Patrick was unmistakably back.

  “Is that a yes, Tarzan? Because Michael couldn’t drive worth crap.”

  Arctic eyes glared at me as he jammed the BMW into reverse. “I flew into L.A. and drove along the coast to Seattle. I’m good.”

  When Patrick hit the gas, my head snapped back and bounced against the headrest. We squealed around the corner, likely waking the entire hotel.

  I gripped the door handle for dear life while trying to sound reasonably calm. “Why did you drive three thousand miles? We get direct flights from Ireland, you know.”

  He stopped at the little gate and pressed his key card into the slot. The yellow and black striped security bar rose and we tore onto Sixth Avenue, the back end fishtailing while my stomach clenched to retain the bit of coffee it held.

  The eastern sky began to lighten, exposing a rare cloudless pre-dawn. I ran a thumb over my smartphone, pulling up the Anacortes ferry app. With the power of the German car and the Irishman’s lead foot, we could easily make the 6:20 Friday Harbor boat.

  “I have some friends who are partners at a law firm in Newport Beach. I visited with them to discuss practicing law in the States. Then I wanted some time to clear m’head before meeting you. ‘Twas a lovely drive, but boring as shite as soon as I left wine country.”

  I shifted in the seat and studied his profile. Long, straight nose. High, prominent cheekbones. Lush, kissable lips. The more time I spent with Patrick the less his appearance resembled Michael.

  And damn. The guy is fine.

  Heat flared through my chest. I unwound the scarf and shrugged my jacket off, tossing both into the backseat. When we stopped at the signal before getting on the freeway, he did the same, chucking his coat over his shoulder. The long sleeves of the shirt hid his tattoos, but I could visualize them.

  I licked my lips. “Well, if you were coming to meet me, how did you end up with Josie?”

  The light turned green and he punched the gas. “Yer a tough woman to find, Rose McCarty. Yeh kinda fell off the radar after Michael died. Even Flynn couldn’t get a clear picture of where you were. He said he could see you working at the University of Washington, but your image was fuzzy and he couldn’t pinpoint yer home. I remembered Michael saying you used t’live on some island and I found a Vashon Island address on Michael’s emergency contact form with the UW. After I checked into the hotel, I had a taxi take me to the Fauntleroy ferry and paid extra for him to drive me to the address. I figured if I found you, you’d be able to drive me back to town and show me where he died.”

  I wound my hair into a messy bun. “Meg and I lived at the Moon and Stars Compound after our parents died. That was before Josie came and took over when Bridget passed away. When Sally, Gillian and Frannie still had their wits about them.”

  Patrick sped past a few lumbering semi’s, the BMW coasting without breaking a sweat. I glanced at the speedometer.

  “Dude, we drive in miles-per-hour here. You’re doing ninety and there’s a well-known speed trap coming up.”

  He sighed and relaxed the pressure on the pedal. My pulse calmed when he reached seventy-two.

  “So? You gonna tell me what happened on the island?” I asked and sipped my cooling coffee.

  “Yes. And when I’m done you’re gonna explain why a beautiful twenty-four-year-old woman has never been alone in a hotel with a man.”

  Chapter 6

  Rose glanced at the cup in her hand. I didn’t care if I embarrassed her. I wanted to know everything about the strange woman and I was prepared to depose Ms. McCarty as if she were a plaintiff suing my client. But the spotlight was trained on me so I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on the road. “I had asked the taxi driver to wait for me before I knocked on the front door of the Moon and Stars Resort.”

  “Compound,” she quietly corrected.

  “Whatever. A tall redhead answered the door—”

  “Gillian,” she muttered.

  “Who’s telling this bloody story? You or me?”

  She sniffled and looked out her window. “Sorry.”

  Jesus, Joseph and Mary… did I make her cry?

  I scratched my forehead while gripping the wheel tighter with my other hand. “Anyway, Gillian answered the door in this flimsy white gown. I mean, really? Who wears see-through clothing when they open t’door for a stranger?”

  Rose snickered but didn’t turn her head.

  “Yeah, well, I told her I was looking for you and she invited me in. ‘Rosie is taking a bath right now’ she said, ‘have some tea’ she said. Well, I was about to decline and ask she have you meet me at a café in the village when Josie came waltzing down the stairs. She told Gillian to get some clothes on and apologized for her friend’s attire, telling me they believed in freedom of expression but they also had to respect other’s boundaries.”

  Sipping my bitter coffee, I glanced at Rose again. She hadn’t moved but she wasn’t sniffling any more.

  “So Josie served me nasty tea and the next thing I knew, I woke up on a beach in the middle of the night, naked as a jay and tied to a log. Five beautiful women, nude as well, danced around a bonfire, chanting and moaning and twitching. ‘Twas the worst thing I’d ever experienced.”

  Rose crossed her legs but didn’t turn to look at me. I took a deep breath. “And Josie told me I wasn’t the only one looking for you. That they had something special planned and wanted you back. Said you were unique.”

  A cop flew past us on the left. I peered at the speedometer, relieved to see the needle hovering in the low seventy’s.

  “And?” Rose asked the window.

  I chuckled. She seemed uncomfortable and pissed off which I found utterly endearing.

  But my cheerfulness vanished as I tried to form the uncomfortable words I needed to say next. “Well, ah, they put a spell on me. Made me determined to find you and bring you back to them. Even more determined than I already was.”

  My pulse thundered through my ears, my body begging me to keep the
next piece of information to myself. She didn’t need to know everything, yet she did. If I expected her to share intimate details of her life with me, I owed Rose the same courtesy.

  “I, ah, they made me… They made me fall in love. With you.” I gripped the steering wheel hard as her head whipped around.

  “What?” The tiny little word was breathy and fathomless.

  “Yeah. And not only that, I was ragingly jealous of Michael. When I got to your house, the feelings were still there, only not as strong as before. I figure, now, that’s because of yer spells.”

  She puffed her cheeks and blew a harsh breath. “Anything else?” Rose’s big brown eyes gazed at me expectantly.

  Heat inched across my chest and neck. “Yeah, but it’s really embarrassing.”

  “What else could you possibly tell me that could humiliate me further?”

  I cleared my throat. “Ah, not you. Me.” I shoved my hand through my hair and exhaled a long stream of curses. “While I was restrained and drugged, they took turns with me.”

  A sharp inhale filled the quiet car.

  “Those bitches,” she hissed and smacked her little fist against her open palm. “I’ll make them all pay.”

  Somehow my hand found hers and our fingers tangled together. The electric heat from our contact seeped along my arm and landed in my chest with a tender thud. “I told you my secrets. Your turn.”

  I chewed my lip and focused on our entwined fingers. The strange current racing through my arm lulled me. Was the power coming from him or from me? I sighed, resigned to add another question to my growing list.

  I lifted our hands. “This is the most intimate contact I’ve had with a man in three years. And before that, not much more.”

  Patrick took a deep inhalation and let it out in a steady whistle. “You never…?”

  I shook my head.

  “Ever?” he asked with gentle incredulousness.

  Tears filled my eyes. I brushed them away and focused on the clock in the dash. “Never. Ever. I’m as pure as you can get.”

  “And Michael?”

  I shook my head. “He was still a virgin too. Wanted to wait until he met the right girl and got married.”

  “Was that you?”

  I laughed and snorted. “We were smitten, but I don’t think we rang each other’s bells.”

  Patrick pressed the back of my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “I’m sorry to hear that.” But his ingratiating grin confessed otherwise.

  Behind whatever empty stare I’d managed to strap on my face, my logical-brain and my horny-girl sides were rolling their sleeves and circling each other on the mat. Brain lunged and Horny twirled away with a round-house kick to Brain’s kidney. Brain snagged a patch of Horny’s hair and yanked. My two sides spit and smacked and slapped, both fighting to come out on top. Or to come out beneath Patrick Kerrigan if Horny won. Luckily the battle ended with Brain as the victor.

  I tugged my hand free and clasped it in my lap, all prim-and-proper-like.

  “Don’t be sorry, Patrick. In order for me to remain an omnipotent witch I have to keep that pesky little strip of flesh intact.”

  He grunted again, but now a thoughtful sound. “You said your sister is powerful too. Is she still a…”—he waived his hand toward my crotch—“you know?”

  I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. Once I caught my breath, I sputtered, “Megan is nearly as awful as the Vashon witches.” I wiped my eyes and took a shaky breath. “But she’s a loner and doesn’t take orders from anyone. The reason she’s so powerful has more to do with the amulet our mother gave her than her sexual status. If she didn’t have the Tiger Eye, she’d have to join a coven to regain her strength.”

  His blue eyes shifted toward me, squinty and shrewd. “Essentially, you’re stronger than her?”

  My head bobbed in affirmation and I glanced out the window. The sun peeked over the Cascade Mountain range, spying on us while painting the eastern sky tangerine, pink and baby blue.

  “With Meg and me working together we should be able to figure out what happened to Michael.” I gripped my necklace, rubbing my thumb over the ancient ruby Daddy gave me on my twelfth birthday. “So let’s stay on her good side.”

  I’d hoped my warning was obvious. I couldn’t come right out and suggest he give in to whatever Megan may ask of him. But sometimes she demanded a large payment for her efforts and, of the two of us, Patrick would be the only one who could afford her price.

  Chapter 7

  Crisp salt-tainted wind blew around us as the ferry sailed between heavily forested islands. Seagulls hovered alongside the boat, screeching over the roar of the engine. Rose held onto the banister and gazed out at the sights. I inched to the left until my side pressed into hers. She didn’t move away and I took that as a positive sign.

  I snaked my arm around her shoulders and a tress came loose from her bun. Catching the strand, I held it to my nose and inhaled her homey scent.

  The ferry rounded a bend and entered a harbor abuzz with puttering boats and roaring seaplanes. Quaint colonial and Victorian buildings littered the hills. A voice came over the loudspeaker and instructed us to return to our cars and prepare for debarking. Rose took my hand and we trekked down the stairs to the cars. My stomach tightened, my body still stunned by the potency of her touch.

  We waited our turn in silence, idling along with the other cars and semi’s. We hadn’t said much after discussing her sister, but a tender peace seemed to fall between us.

  “Okay, go straight. Up the hill,” Rose instructed once we were on land. The amber burned my chest but not as harsh as before. “Now turn right.”

  We ascended another hill and came to a purple and pink and white gingerbread Victorian house. When I stepped out of the car, my breath caught in my throat. The view of the harbor and the islands floating in the sapphire waters rivaled any sight in Ireland.

  “Rosie?” someone cried from the porch.

  Rose bounded across the grass and took the porch steps two at a time. She flew into a woman’s arms and they twirled around like happy little girls in a school yard.

  As I trudged along the stone path, the amber began to vibrate and scald my skin. By the time I made it to the bottom of the porch heat soaked straight through my chest and into my spine. Pain and pleasure and chills and warmth trickled down my back, threading through every nerve ending. I gripped the handrail while words of alarm formed on my numb tongue.

  The woman hugging Rose dropped her arms and stepped toward me, her white shawl, green skirt, and long red hair all billowed in the breeze like maritime flags.

  “Gillian?” The name came out garbled. I felt as if I were speaking through a mouthful of mud.

  Rose laughed. “This isn’t Gillian. This is my sister, Megan McCarty.”

  I wrestled my gaze from the wild green eyes and dove into Rose’s deep brown ones. “This is the woman who opened the door. The one in the see-through dress.”

  Patrick was joking, of course. But my brain couldn’t speed along fast enough to figure out the funny punch line. My little synapses sparked and fired as they processed the information, finally confirming exactly how slow they’d been today.

  “You said five women around the bonfire. There’s only four at Moon and Stars.”

  Meg leaned her hip against the banister and stroked the tawny marbled stone set in her thick silver bracelet. “Nice to see you again, Patrick,” she purred.

  Patrick’s complexion changed from chalk to tomato red. Rage drifted off of him, so savage I could actually see the claret tinge of his aura.

  “What did you do, Meg?” My head swung between my sister and Patrick. “What’s going on?”

  Meg smiled at me and batted her lashes. “Little sis, your friend is quite an impressive species. Have you seen his tattoo?” Her eyes narrowed as her gaze skipped along the length of my body. “No, I doubt you have. Your innocence is so viscous it’s nearly dripping out your pores.”

  “
You violated him?” My hands curled into fists.

  “Of course not. What do you take me for, a randy animal? We made love under the stars, dearheart, and Patrick was quite the willing participant. Although it was your name he screamed when ecstasy overtook his senses.”

  Saliva pooled in my mouth as bitter bile coated the back of my throat. “Why? Why would you go along with Josie? And why would you attack Michael’s brother? He’s done nothing to you.”

  Meg pushed away from the rail and slunk around me; a lioness stalking her prey. “Dear, dear Rosie. It wasn’t Patrick we wanted, it was you. Your spells around your home and around your body were too strong for Zepar to track you down.”

  My head reeled. “Zepar? Who in the hell is that?”

  Patrick climbed two steps and stopped. “Flynn told me one of the incubi who might have been involved was called Zepar. But he needed confirmation.”

  The wink behind his words openly implied—we needed to move fast in order to get information.

  The ruby against my skin pulsed in time with my heart. I turned from Meg to Patrick and saw a soft glow emanating from beneath his t-shirt. I restrained myself from looking at Meg’s Tiger Eye. I knew if I had stolen a peek, I’d find her bracelet would be pulsing as well. This was the first time all three stones had been together since Mommy and Daddy died.

  “Patrick, what do you know of this Zepar?” I asked, hoping to stall for time as well as get up to speed on what the frack was going on around here.

  Patrick took one more step and cleared his throat. His tongue popped out and licked his lips, but they didn’t appear much wetter than before.

  “Ah, from what Flynn said, Zepar was a fallen angel and a duke of Hell. He takes the form of a woman’s husband or lover and tricks them, seducing them to have sex. He’s an all around grade-A arsehole.”