by Allie Burke
“I have to go back to work for a few hours,” Grant said. “Emily just called. Apparently there is some new information on the Camden case.”
Emily Greene was Grant’s assistant, a pretty young blonde woman who Kate was sure he was having an affair with.
“Have you called Elias?” Kate asked, changing the subject in an effort to erase Grant’s infidelities from her mind.
Kate watched her husband’s entire body go stiff, his mouth set into a thin line. “No,” he answered, the one word completely advertising his hate for his son.
“You should. They threatened him directly.”
“He is not our concern.”
“Not our concern?” Kate was working very hard to keep her tone level. “He is still our son.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“They’re dangerous, Grant. He could die.”
Grant’s voice sunk deeper. Angrier. “He’s already dead.”
Kate turned, unwilling to show Grant her tears. She heard him leave. She crossed the room to the phone, and picked it up. But Grant reappeared in the doorway.
“If you call him, I’ll be sure that the Superior Court knows that their judge has leaked protected information on the Camden Case.”
With that, Kate placed the phone back on the receiver, and watched her husband walk away.
~ * ~
“Janie, come out to the front with me, I want to show you something,” Annabelle said, coughing in between words.
“Are you alright, Anna?” Jane asked her.
“Fine,” she answered shortly.
Jane refrained from pressing. Annabelle would just lie, as she was doing right now. Jane stood from the couch, and followed Annabelle outside.
“I want to show you how to set a defense ward, to keep you safe.”
“A defense what?”
“Pay attention.”
Jane only nodded, a little nervous at Annabelle’s stricter-than-usual tone.
“Come stand next to me,” Annabelle waved Jane over with her hand. “Now, I want you to focus on the most horrible creature you can. A monster. Concentrate on the most dreadful thing the monster could do.”
Jane opened her eyes. “Anna, is this really necessary?” Her voice trembled. Jane had a very vivid imagination. Behind her eyelids, she saw horrifying things taking place.
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t,” Annabelle coughed again. “Close your eyes. Alright, now get into your comfort zone. The water. A large wave, blocking your house on all sides. Visualize the monster running around it. He can’t get in.”
Jane did what was asked of her. After a moment, Annabelle told her to open her eyes.
“Do you see the mist?”
Jane looked at it mysteriously. “What is that?”
“It’s a defense ward. No one can pass through, unless you want them to. Now, let me show you how to test its strength, so you can keep it standing.”
Chapter 7
“Her grandmother, Annabelle, was my closest friend,” Jeanine said, wiping more tears away. “I loved her dearly.”
“What happened to her?” Elias asked, placing his hand on Jeanine’s, consoling her.
“She passed away, just a few months back. I haven’t seen Jane since.” Jeanine sucked a long breath in. “I’m sorry, Elias, I didn’t mean for—”
“It’s okay,” Elias said. “Come on. It’s getting late.”
Elias drove Jeanine back to her house and went home, kicked off his boots and collapsed into bed. He closed his eyes, aching to ignore the information his aunt had shared for the moment, just so he could get some sleep, but within a few seconds his eyes popped open with a shocking realization. He lifted his arm, and looked at the purple handprint again. He got out of bed, and walked into the studio. When he had set up the canvas, it didn’t occur to him that it wasn’t his own intuition that his work of art was derived from, but the inspiration of the dream that inspired him. He remembered it now, down to the purple painted toenails.
Elias sniffed the air. He smelled that same scent; the scent that was everywhere. Rosemary. He looked around, and watched the strange, confetti-like decorations float in his house, like a thick, purple air freshener.
Unexpectedly, he felt movement against his chest. He listened. There was a quiet breath that was not is own. He looked down as the black swivel chair in front of him rolled to the side, and hit the wall beside it. As the chair came to a stop, he heard a thud, like something had fallen to the floor.
Elias froze, staring at the chair. A single muffled word drew his eyes to the bare carpet.
“Ow.”
It wasn’t much, but he was sure that he heard it. The same voice, the beautiful voice from earlier. It spoke again.
“Sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that. I kind of tripped. Oh, yeah, um—” it paused, “I’m Jane. Can you help me up? My head hurts.”
Elias didn’t make an effort to move; he was lost in the black hole of his mind.
The voice again. “Not much of a gentleman, are you? Where is Edward when you need him? Never mind, I can get up myself. Just don’t talk.”
Elias blinked away the blankness, returning himself to the reality of his current situation. There was an invisible woman in his house who had tripped and fallen, and she was asking him to help her up. No big deal.
He slowly stepped forward. He leaned down, and held his hand out. A quiet moment passed before he felt her cool hand in his. He blindly maneuvered his other hand until he found her invisible lower back. He gently tugged, his body straightened, helping her up.
“Thank you,” she said. He could feel the vibration of her voice, just inches from his lips. He moved to let her go, but felt her body start to slide downwards, so he tightened his grip.
She whispered to him. “I’m really not always this clumsy.”
He smiled. His hand glided up her back, and his other hand found the back of her legs. He lifted carefully, cradling her cool body against him. His eyes closed. Her touch—it was serene. Like a cool breeze.
Elias walked out of the studio, down the hallway, into the living room, and gently placed her down on his couch. He went to the kitchen, found a small towel, and drenched it with hot water. Then he went to his hall closet and found a blanket that had never been used. He returned to the living room, and covered his empty couch with the blanket. It revealed a form under it; she was tiny. Not that short, just little. Fragile.
Elias held the towel out. It removed itself from his grasp, and dangled in the air for a long time.
“Your head,” he said, and his whole body cringed. He closed his eyes, afraid to open them again. When he did, he found the blanket lying flat and the towel on the floor. She was gone.
Elias let out a discouraged breath, annoyed at himself for his blatant idiocy. Just don’t talk, she’d told him. Elias shook his head. Dumbass.
Jane opened her eyes, and saw Starry Night hanging on her wall. She was sitting on her couch, several hours after she put her book down. She still had to pee.
She remembered getting back to Elias’s. She was in her little dark private abyss, just waiting, and suddenly she was in that room again. He just stood there, looking at his painting. She walked over and settled herself in front of him. She just wanted one tiny whiff. She was greedy.
She leaned forward, very carefully put her nose up to his chest and inhaled a deep breath. She became so captivated by the smoky essence that she began leaning to the right. Before she could regain her balance, she tripped over her own feet. Next, the chair rolled as her side hit it, and she was on the floor. She was humiliated, even if Elias couldn’t see her. She had covered her face with her hands, an automatic reaction to her embarrassment. Her head was throbbing. She couldn’t prevent the pained word from slipping out of her mouth.
Jane found herself covering her face again. She couldn’t believe that she had asked him to help her up. He only stood there, squinting, like he was trying very hard to see something that wasn
’t there. She had been so rude! She actually compared him to a fictional character. Her headache must have been raging.
She didn’t bother attempting to get up on her own, even though she said she would. The entire room had been spinning. She just watched the blank expression on Elias’s face turn into something more thoughtful. He stepped forward, helped her up, and carried her to the couch. She smiled, remembering that he had covered her up with a blanket, and gave her a pleasantly warm towel for her head. She knew what it was for; she was just so lost that she was unable to move. She was looking at his eyes. They were so peaceful, so blue—she had no desire to ever look away.
Jane sighed. She missed him.
She got up, and finally went to the bathroom. She walked to her closet, and dressed in some leggings with jeans over them, a gray hoodie, wool socks and shoes. She was going out.
She started walking, but then she stopped, turned around and came back. She positioned her body in front of the house. She closed her eyes and saw Elias’s handsome face. Very faintly, the words “Elias Linden” whooshed from her lips. She opened her eyes and watched the mist change. It was normally a faint gray like a thin fog, but now there was a new glow to it, a deep red mixing with the darkness of the night. It was beautiful.
Jane walked through the woods and stepped onto the asphalt from the brush. She walked down Lilian Highway, making her way to Hazel Grove. As she walked, her light tapping footsteps the only sound to accompany her, she recollected that she had thought before that Elias could be a fantasy. He wasn’t. She sensed it deep in her heart that he must exist. She was falling for him. Maybe, just maybe, everything she was feeling would be real this time.
Elias sat in his leather chair, suddenly missing Liam. He had his eyes closed, forcing deep breaths into his lungs. His head ached. He didn’t take any medicine for it. No pain medication so far invented would ease it.
Elias got up, and put his boots back on. He got in the Aston Martin, and was driving again. He arrived at Rosen Books after a few minutes of cruising through the busy streets of Hazel Grove. This was his favorite book store. They never closed. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Ironic that he never bought books here.
He went inside, and picked out a few movies—a comedy, some war movies, some lovey dovey chick flick that he would never watch by himself. At least he would have it, if ever needed. He made his way to the checkout counter. A blonde woman rang up his movies, and suddenly a longing feeling washed through him. It was gravitational. He wanted to walk backwards. Elias jerked his head around. Ten feet away, was—her.
Her bright red hair exploded over the light gray hood of her sweater. She held a book with a title that he couldn’t see from this distance, her head down as she read the back of it. She stood with her legs close together, her arms were bundled up against her chest. She was cold. He reflexively took a step away from the checkout counter. If he could just hold her for a moment, she would be warm…
“Excuse me, Sir?” the woman asked from behind the counter.
Elias turned back to the woman, blinking his eyes. They burned. He must have been staring for a while. He paid her and got his bag. He didn’t look back again, just quickly walked out to his car. What would he say? Hi, I heard your voice in my studio, do you want to get a drink?
Elias looked back at the door. It opened, and he watched a slim figure emerge, the body topped with a bright red flash of curly hair. She crossed her arms again and started walking.
Elias took a deep breath, and did the last thing he ever thought he would do. He got out of his car and he followed her.
Chapter 8
Jane left the bookstore, and walked up Lilian Highway. She was hearing things. It was normal to hear voices or laughs on the sidewalks of Hazel Grove—the town was very busy and very loud. It was not normal to hear trailing footsteps as she walked on the side of this highway. There were no houses. No people. Just forest, both sides. Trees and dirt. Nothing else.
Jane stopped. She wasn’t scared, or distressed, or panicky, only curious. She had a right to know if someone was following her. She turned around. Nothing was there. Just trees. And dirt. She shrugged, and continued walking. Must be her wild imagination tricking her again.
When Jane reached the house, she found Parker lying on the top step, his head hanging over the ridge. He lifted his head as she approached. He looked unhappy.
“Meow.”
“Sorry, Park, they don’t allow pets in the bookstore.”
He tilted his head. Now he was offended. A pet. Appalling.
She laughed, and went inside. She dropped her books and closed all the dark purple curtains over the windows, getting ready to shut out the light. It was well past midnight, the morning not far behind. Jane felt a sense of relief that sleep was on her agenda in the next few hours. She was exhausted. Her summons to the art gallery and to Elias’s had drained her.
Jane felt a grumble, and she patted her stomach. She must have forgotten to eat again. She went into the kitchen and made some grilled cheese sandwiches. She only shrugged when she ate them, her taste buds were used to it. Baking was a science, precise, just mix it all together and let the oven do the work. But actually cooking, she couldn’t cook a tasty meal if her life depended on it.
She changed into her pajamas and turned off all the lights except for a dim lamp in the living room. She picked up Pride and Prejudice, and tucked herself into her blanket on the couch.
Elias followed Jane to Jasmyn Lake, keeping a safe distance, trying not to feel like a stalker. When she reached a small blue cottage in the middle of Dare Forest, she spoke, the words lost in the distance between them. She went inside, but he didn’t follow. He wasn’t ready yet.
He continued through the forest, absorbing the beauty of the tall trees. Jeanine had told him stories about Jasmyn Lake, how the town itself shunned outsiders, the leaves on the trees blowing in a way that caused a feeling of fear, the dark lake inducing anxiety. Like a horror movie. Elias thought of the tales of this town, waiting for his mind to betray him. He did feel anxious, but didn’t think it had anything to do with the trees.
He stopped at a boulder settled at the edge of a path, next to some pink flowers. He sat down on the rock. The flowers’ sweet scent caressed his senses, and he immediately thought of his brother. He saw three year old Liam, leaping into rain puddles in their street. Elias remembered the day clearly. They were playing together in the rain, splashing each other with muddy water. Their clothes were soaked and dirty. Elias remembered thinking how upset their mother would be when she found out they had ruined their clothes. He sighed. That should be the last thing on any toddler’s mind.
He placed his hands on his knees to stand up, but he felt some type of debris on his pants. He looked down, and let out an embarrassing chuckle at the leaves and sticks protruding from his jeans. He had jumped from the highway into the brush when Jane had stopped and turned around, looking for someone following her. He removed the mess from his pants, and walked back to Jane’s house. He followed the trail, and eventually the trees opened up into a clearing. The house had an odd color scheme—light blue with a silver door. The grass was like Jeanine’s, overgrown and out of control.
He walked to the edge of the stone walkway, but then he stopped. The same questions invaded his mind. What would he say? He turned around, and started walking away from the house. After a few steps, he felt the longing feeling again. It was telling him to walk the opposite way. He continued walking, but his heart tightened. It was as if the life was being squeezed out of it. He turned and glared at the house, waiting for a confession to escape. He walked towards it again. The clenching feeling slowly dispersed, and was completely gone by the time he reached the fence. He walked away from the house in a different direction. He walked much farther, forcing his feet to move in defiance of the unbearable constriction in his chest. He performed this ritual time and time again, each time in a different direction. As the disagreeable pain turned to agony and torm
ent, he stopped. He planted himself within a cluster of trees across the clearing in front of the house. He gazed at the exterior of the cottage, wondering how it could be doing this to him. He became angry—accelerated breathing, tight fists, erratic heartbeat. He rubbed his temples. He didn’t have a temper and he never yelled. But right now, so completely enraged, he felt exactly like his father. The thought scared him more than anything in the world. Even more than losing his thirty-five year old brother forever.
Elias let his body fall backwards. The soft packed dirt was cool—almost wet—he could actually breathe again. Tiny beads of sweat damped his shirt. He’d worn himself out a bit, not because he was out of shape, he was always just so damn hot. He would believe he was dying of a fever after the tiniest exercise, if he didn’t know any better.
He got up and nodded at the house. An understanding. He walked forward, never stopping this time. Actually stepping into the front yard proved a little difficult. He had to push his body forward, almost like the atmosphere around the house was deciding whether or not to let him pass. He looked up to the sky, and saw faint sunlight basting through the trees. He squinted at it. He had failed to notice when the sky shifted from darkness to light. He ascended the steps. He lifted his fist in the air, and he knocked on the door.
Chapter 9
A knock on the door stole Jane away from her bliss of deep, soundless sleep. She peeked at the window with listless eyes. Her dark purple curtain wasn’t dark purple anymore. A natural light behind it lightened it, revealing every imperfection in the stitching. She grunted. I’ll kill him, her irritated body flinched. He knew better than to show up here during the day.
