King of the Castle

by Heather Graham

  “Justin…”

  He didn’t give her a chance to talk. With startling agility he suddenly swept her a deep bow, falling on one knee to take her hand.

  “Justin…”

  “Ah, Mrs. McHennessy, I do beg your pardon.”

  “Justin! You’re drunk.”

  He looked up at her, a satanic light gleaming from the depths of his eyes. “So I am, love, so I am.”

  Before she had a chance to reply, he was up as quickly as he had knelt before her. Astonished, she watched him amble over to the couch she had just vacated, offer her a crazy grin and fall onto it. He was on his back, eyes closed, dead still.

  “Justin?” Torn between anger and amazement, Kit tiptoed over to where he lay, staring down at him.

  Drunk! The damn fool had gotten drunk, and then he had come over here to make fun of her. And then he had passed out on her couch. Well, he was over six feet tall and probably weighed close to two hundred pounds. She wasn’t going to be able to move him.

  She sighed and ran upstairs to get an extra blanket. She checked the bed and saw that Mike was sound asleep, as comfortable as…

  As comfortable and as dead to the world as his father.

  There. She had really, truly admitted it for the very first time.

  She bit her lip, found a blanket and walked thoughtfully back down the stairs. When she neared the couch, she couldn’t help staring down at him. She loved the way his dark brows arched over his eyes. She loved the straight length of his nose, the fullness of his lower lip, the devilish sensuality of his mouth and the slight smile that remained even in sleep.

  With a little sigh, she leaned over to tuck the blanket around him, and as she did, her breasts brushed his chest. Suddenly something warm slipped around her waist, and she gasped, looking at his face and seeing that his eyes were wide open.

  “Kit…”

  “Justin…” she began warily.

  But it was too late. She was suddenly stretched out on top of him, and before she really knew what was happening, her lips were molded to his in a hungry kiss, hot and demanding.

  Either he wasn’t really drunk, or he was amazingly adept considering his inebriated state. He had untied the belt of her robe and slid the hem of her thin nightgown high on her thighs, and his hands were warm on her bare flesh. He was stroking her hip, her midriff, the heavy undercurve of her breast. When his lips released hers at last, his eyes sought hers. She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to, because his left arm was still locked around her, while his right hand caressed and roved.

  “You cheat,” she whispered.

  “I need you.”

  “You smell like a brewery.”

  “There are worse things,” he said, wounded.

  “Like what?”

  “Well…I don’t smell like a sewer.”

  She started to laugh. He caught her lips again, and by that time his hand had moved between their bodies. Moved low, to a spot where she began to feel a constant throbbing.

  He broke off the kiss, and his hand moved, his fingers stroked, penetrated. She gasped sharply.

  “I dreamed of you,” she said quickly. “I dreamed that you were coming for me. That you were the goat-god.”

  “You dreamed that?” he asked, stricken. And yet the sweet torture he was inflicting on her didn’t stop.

  “I am no evil beast, Kit. Just the man who loves you.”

  She couldn’t speak. She felt as if hot honey were rushing through her veins, pooling at the center of her being, at the sweet spot where his fingers wrought their magic.

  “M-Mike is upstairs.”

  “Sleeping.”

  “What if—”

  “He won’t.”

  “But we can’t—”

  “But we can.”

  Her eyes went very wide, because suddenly she was straddling his bare flesh. She had never felt more intimately joined in her life. Cool on the outside…burning in the middle. Decadently filled and inwardly stroked with a startling, incredible impact that was erotic beyond imagination…

  “I…”

  “Kiss me,” he urged her softly.

  And that was the beginning of the end. She unleashed the dreams and the hunger and the longing and felt with delicious fever the ache being assuaged and assuaged…and assuaged.

  Later, when the fire had nearly died and the wind had become a gentle breeze, she laid her head against his chest. “I have to move. Michael might come down.”

  “Aye.” He kissed her cheek, but he didn’t release her, nor withdraw himself from her sweet sanctuary.

  Kit frowned. “Justin…this can’t solve things.”

  “Not murder, no.”

  “I meant other things.”

  “No,” he whispered. “No. But I feel so much better,” he told her. “So much better just to be with you.”

  She felt better, too. She felt him in her, and all around her. She inhaled his scent and felt him down to her soul. She was too languorous to dispute him. Too lazy even to move. She would, though, in just a few seconds.

  * * *

  “Mom?”

  Kit heard the voice dimly at first. She was so sleepy, so comfortably ensconced in the warmth of the blanket. Then she remembered the night.

  In a panic, she opened her eyes, realizing that Mike was standing beside her and that she was still on the sofa and that she had fallen asleep there after…after being with Justin.

  “Mike!”

  In desperation she looked around, but Justin was gone. She was on the sofa all by herself. Her robe was even rebelted, and the blanket was tucked in all around her.

  “Oh!” she breathed in relief. But she wondered where he was.

  Mike was dressed and smiling and very pleased that he had gotten himself ready for school. “Mom, can I get some cornflakes? It’s almost time for Douglas to come.”

  “Oh, uh, of course,” she said quickly. Justin wasn’t the type to hide in a closet, she realized. He had left, carefully, discreetly.

  She reached for Mike with a broad smile and gave him a little hug. He squirmed a bit and gave her a peculiar look.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Just that I love you. Come on, I’ll feed you whatever you want.”

  He wanted cornflakes and toast. He’d barely eaten the last of his breakfast when Kit heard Douglas’s horn blaring. She walked outside with Mike, kissed him quickly on top of his head, then waved to Douglas, who waved back cheerily.

  When they were gone, she fixed herself toast and coffee in a curiously light mood. She half expected Justin to appear, but he didn’t, so she bolted the door and went upstairs to take a long hot bath. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and smiled at the dreamy quality in her eyes.

  “Well loved!” She laughed aloud.

  By the time she had bathed and dressed it was almost eleven, and she didn’t feel like working. She hesitated, then decided to take a walk through the woods over to the castle. He had come to her last night—no matter in what condition—so she would hold out the olive branch and go to him this morning.

  Halfway there, she regretted her impulse. There was only a glimmer of sunshine, and it didn’t reach through the dense foliage. And there was a mist. She could barely make out the little trail through the trees because of the low-lying ground fog. For once there wasn’t even a wind, and the silence was eerie.

  It was only a ten-minute walk, she told herself, but she quickened her pace. She wanted it to be a five-minute walk.

  Sweat had beaded her forehead, and she was breathing heavily when she finally saw the walls of the castle rising before her. She began to feel a bit silly.

  Molly answered the door and eagerly ushered her in. “Justin’s not in, love, but come, have some tea,” the older woman urged.

  Kit swallowed her disappointment and told Molly that she would love some tea. Molly headed into the kitchen, but Kit hesitated at the door. The counter was covered with potatoes that had been carv
ed into gruesome jack-o’-lanterns.

  Molly winked at her. “All Hallows’ Eve this week. The young ones do love my potato men!”

  Kit smiled and forced herself to admire Molly’s work. They went on talking about how much Mike liked school, and Kit was glad to see how proud Molly was of Douglas.

  “Old Doug, well, he’s a good man, he is, but a gravedigger all his life. I was glad to see me son a teacher.”

  Kit commented on how much Mike admired Douglas, and how grateful she was that Douglas had taken such an interest in her son. “He’s been very kind.”

  “He’s a good man. And he likes the boy. Who would not? He’s a well-mannered, handsome lad.”

  Kit thanked her for both the compliment and the tea. Justin hadn’t returned, and she felt too restless to sit.

  “I’ll tell him ye were here,” Molly promised, seeing Kit out.

  Once she got outside, Kit noted with irritation that the fog hadn’t lifted yet. She toyed with the idea of taking the long way home, by the highway, but that would have taken her half an hour. Swearing beneath her breath, she started down the path again.

  The wind was picking up, and Kit was actually glad of it; she didn’t like the silence in the forest. But the fog was just awful. She lost the trail for a moment, and when she found her way back onto the path, she had to dust leaves from her sweater. Just then a flash of movement caught her eye, and she screamed.

  There, right in front of her, was the goat-god. Clothed in the black cape, tall and malevolent. His horns were long, his eyes were diamond-bright, and as dark as death against the sky.

  “No!” she cried in terror.

  Because he was coming toward her, gliding over the path, and there was nowhere to run.

  CHAPTER 10

  It seemed as if the forest echoed and trembled with her screams. But then, suddenly, he was gone. He had been coming straight at her, and then… And then he was swallowed by the mist and the trees and the bracken.

  Kit ran, unaware that she was screaming again. All she wanted was to get out of the forest, out of the mist, away from the creature she had seen. Pain streaked through her calves, and her breathing was loud as she struggled to reach the cottage.

  “Kit!”

  It was Justin, calling her name, but she didn’t know from where. A little spasm of fear swept through her. Had he donned the cape and mask, then cast them aside to come running to her rescue?

  “Mrs. McHennessy!”

  She reached the road that ran along the forest, running with such speed that she was unable to stop but went crashing into the second man who had called her name.

  It was Old Doug, with his fey, watery eyes and gentle smile. Yet even while he spread his arms to steady her, Kit scurried away. If ever there was a candidate for the asylum, it was Old Doug. And suddenly she remembered what he had said when he had first seen her; he had asked about Mike! He had asked about her son, when he shouldn’t have known…

  No. Maybe she was the one going crazy. He wasn’t sweating or panting, so how could he have cast aside a cloak and a mask and beaten her here?

  “Are ye all right, lass?” he asked kindly. “Why, ye look as if a score of banshees were on yer trail, child!”

  “Old Doug, were you just in the forest?”

  He scratched his head. “Aye, that I was. Come to get my lunch from Molly.”

  She stepped back, gasping. “Did you—did you see it?”

  “Kit!”

  She jumped as long arms swept around her waist.

  It was Justin, his eyes dark, perspiration beaded across his brow, his breath coming raggedly. “Kit! What happened? Oh, my God, you’re all right!”

  He pulled her tightly against him, holding her against his chest while he rested his chin on the top of her head. The thunder of his heartbeat was very loud.

  Tears stung her eyes. She loved him so much, but she was so afraid. He had been in the forest, and he was panting, and he had been behind her.

  He set her slightly away from him with a worried frown. “What happened?”

  “The—” she began, but then old Barney Canail came crashing out of the forest, too. He took one look at her, saw that she was all right and sat down hard on the ground.

  “Lord, Lord, if I’m not gettin’ too old for a chase such as that! Where were ye, girl! I heard ye scream.”

  Then Barney was interrupted by Liam O’Grady, who had come more slowly than the others. His girth wouldn’t allow a faster pace.

  Kit let herself rest against Justin as she faced the others. She was still shaking so badly that she was afraid she would fall, and it was worse now than it had ever been, because she was forced to be suspicious of men who were her friends—and the man that she loved.

  No, she decided firmly. She would not suspect Justin. She had known in her heart of his innocence before she had come here, and she would not waver in her beliefs now.

  “The—the goat-god was in the forest,” she said hesitantly.

  “What?”

  The word came flying out to her harshly from three of them. Old Doug just stood staring at her.

  “The goat-god—”

  “Kit, there is no goat-god!” Liam said softly.

  “Someone dressed up like the goat-god was there. Someone in a cape and a horned mask. I was coming through the forest, and he was just…there.” Her lip trembled slightly. “Coming at me, out of the mist.”

  Silence reigned; she couldn’t see Justin’s eyes, but she knew that the men were exchanging skeptical glances.

  “I’m telling you what I saw,” she said coolly.

  “Are ye sure, Mrs. McHennessy?” Barney asked. “There’s such a fog this mornin’, and ye’ve had the creature heavy on yer mind. You might have imagined—”

  “I didn’t imagine anything. It was there.”

  “Douglas, did ye see anything strange in the forest?” Barney asked the old man.

  “Ah, the forest,” Old Doug said, smiling. “Why, ’tis a veritable haven for gods and ghosts!” he said cheerfully.

  He would clearly be no help. “I wasn’t dreaming things up!” she insisted.

  “Mrs. McHennessy—” Liam began.

  Justin’s arms tightened around her. “If she says she saw it, then she did.”

  A gentle faith rang from his words. But was it really because he believed her—or because he knew more than he was saying?

  “Let’s take a look, shall we?” he suggested.

  “All right, let’s see what we can find,” Liam said, taking charge. “Barney, cover the north sector. Justin, you and Kit take the path. I’ll search south.”

  “I know the forest like the back of me own hand,” Old Doug offered. “I’ll find it.” He paused. “What am I looking for?”

  Kit smiled. “A cape or a mask, Doug.”

  He nodded and set off, crashing through the bracken.

  Kit and Justin started down the path. The mist was growing thicker, so thick that she could barely see him ahead of her.

  “Justin?” she murmured to him. Was she a fool? Was she signing her own death warrant by being here? By asking these questions? “Where were you this morning? What were you doing in the woods?”

  He stopped, his back to her, and she saw the muscles tighten beneath his sweater.

  He turned to her slowly, his eyes as glittery as the jeweled orbs in the goat-god’s face.

  “Was I in the woods wearing a cape, Kit? Is that what you mean?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean!” she retorted, but her voice faltered. “No, but I had just come from your house, and you weren’t there. The whole thing seems rather strange, doesn’t it? I see this creature in the woods, and then I run into Old Doug on my way out—and you and Barney and Liam are all running around like the Three Stooges.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Even in such a remote area, Kit didn’t see how he could have missed the Three Stooges. “Never mind. What I’m saying is that it’s such a coincidence that all three
of you—”

  “I see.” The glitter left his eyes, and he smiled. Then he looked at her again and pulled her close against him, kissing her forehead. “Kit, you haven’t been alone at all for nearly two weeks now.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve been splitting a vigil, Barney, Liam and I. Watching you.”

  Anger at such an invasion of her privacy rose up inside her, but it quickly subsided. He had been worried, and he had seen to it that she was safe. Then her smile faded. “I was alone this morning.”

  He stroked her cheek softly. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate waking up beside me.”

  “No.”

  “So I snuck out to shower and change. Barney was in the bushes at the cottage, and he followed you to the castle, but he lost you once you started through the forest on the way back.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Heading back to the cottage.”

  “Oh.”

  His lips settled over hers, and he kissed her gently beneath the arbor the trees made in the mist. And with that kiss, new faith throbbed into her blood.

  “Third degree over?” he asked her.

  He started forward again before she had a chance to answer, and she tripped over a root; if not for the strength of his arm around her, she would have fallen.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.”

  He turned to her again. She reached out to feel his face through the damp mist, drawing a finger over the line of his cheekbone and the angle of his jaw. “We’re not going to find anything, are we?” she murmured.

  “I don’t know.”

  They watched one another for several seconds, then were interrupted by the totally unexpected sound of Barney’s scream of triumph.

  “Why, ’tis true! There’s a cloak hidden here, beneath a rock!”

  “Where are you?” Justin shouted to him. “Keep talking!”

  Barney kept up a steady stream of words until they reached him. He was in a small, sheltered clearing in the midst of dense foliage, a private haven, invisible to the world.

  Liam reached the spot just as they did and knelt down beside Barney. “’Tis a black cloak, all right.”

  “Is the mask there?” Kit asked nervously. She didn’t think she ever wanted to see it again, yet, paradoxically, she wanted it to be there.