Secret Sanctuary

by Amanda Stevens

  He wanted her as much as she wanted him. Elizabeth thought she must have died and gone to heaven

  He tasted her with his lips and his tongue, and when she arched her back, he groaned, a deep, dark, sensual sound that sent a thrill coursing through her veins.

  She plowed her fingers through Cullen’s hair, holding him close, thinking to herself, I always wanted my first time to be with you.

  Cullen lifted his head. She went still. Surely she hadn’t said that aloud. Had she?

  “This is your first time?” He sounded almost angry.

  “That can’t come as much of a surprise,” she whispered. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  Cullen pulled back, resting on his knees. “It changes everything.”

  Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

  Cupid’s bow is loaded at Harlequin Intrigue with four fabulous stories of breathtaking romantic suspense—starting with the continuation of Cassie Miles’s COLORADO SEARCH AND RESCUE miniseries. In Wedding Captives, lovers reunite on a mountaintop…unfortunately they’re also snowbound with a madman!

  And there’s no better month to launch our new modern gothic continuity series MORIAH’S LANDING. Amanda Stevens emerges from the New England fog with Secret Sanctuary, the first of four titles coming out over the next several months. You can expect all of the classic themes you love in these stories, plus more of the contemporary edge you’ve come to expect from our brand of romantic suspense.

  You know what can happen In the Blink of an Eye…? Julie Miller does! And you can find out, too, in the next installment of her TAYLOR CLAN series.

  Finally, Jean Barrett takes you to New Orleans for some Private Investigations with battling P.I.’s. It’s a regular showdown in the French Quarter—where absolutely anything goes.

  So celebrate Valentine’s Day with the most confounding mystery of all…that of the heart.

  Deep, rich chocolate wishes,

  Denise O’Sullivan

  Associate Senior Editor

  Harlequin Intrigue

  SECRET SANCTUARY

  AMANDA STEVENS

  TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

  AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

  STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

  PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

  Special thanks and acknowledgment

  are given to Amanda Stevens for her contribution

  to the MORIAH’S LANDING series.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born and raised in a small, Southern town, Amanda Stevens frequently draws on memories of her birthplace to create atmospheric settings and casts of eccentric characters. She is the author of over twenty-five novels, the recipient of a Career Achievement Award for Romantic/Mystery, and a 1999 RITA Award finalist in the Gothic/Romantic Suspense category. She now resides in Texas with her husband, teenage twins and her cat, Jesse, who also makes frequent appearances in her books.

  Books by Amanda Stevens

  HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

  373—STRANGER IN PARADISE

  388—A BABY’S CRY

  397—A MAN OF SECRETS

  430—THE SECOND MRS. MALONE

  453—THE HERO’S SON*

  458—THE BROTHER’S WIFE*

  462—THE LONG-LOST HEIR*

  489—SOMEBODY’S BABY

  511—LOVER, STRANGER

  549—THE LITTLEST WITNESS**

  553—SECRET ADMIRER**

  557—FORBIDDEN LOVER**

  581—THE BODYGUARD’S ASSIGNMENT

  607—NIGHTTIME GUARDIAN

  622—THE INNOCENT†

  626—THE TEMPTED†

  630—THE FORGIVEN†

  650—SECRET SANCTUARY

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  Elizabeth Douglas—An expert in criminology, she’s standing in the way of a killer’s ultimate revenge.

  Detective Cullen Ryan—A man with a dark past of his own. He vows to protect Elizabeth from the killer, but can he protect her from himself?

  Professor Lucian LeCroix—He arrived in Moriah’s Landing on the night the first body was discovered.

  Dr. Paul Fortier—He has an eye for the ladies—especially his students.

  Dr. Leland Manning—A pioneer in gene therapy research. What, exactly, is the nature of the experiments he conducts at his isolated compound?

  David Bryson—A recluse, he was a suspect twenty years ago in the killings that terrorized Moriah’s Landing. Has his grief for a lost love driven him to do unspeakable evil?

  Ned Krauter—The town mortician, he’s a man who enjoys his work.

  Dr. René Rathfaster—A brilliant researcher, he disappeared several years ago when allegations surfaced that he conducted genetic experiments on human test subjects.

  Geoffrey Pierce—How does he know so much about serial killers?

  This book is gratefully dedicated to B.J. Daniels,

  Dani Sinclair and Joanna Wayne,

  my partners in crime as well as my friends.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Prologue

  The sky had been clear all day, but as evening fell, storm clouds moved in from the sea, blocking fragile moonlight and deepening shadows across a bleak and eerie landscape. The wind had picked up, too, stirring dead leaves over the necropolis.

  There was something in that wind, Elizabeth Douglas thought with a shiver. Something evil.

  She glanced at the luminous dial on her watch. Almost midnight. Time for the ghosts to rise….

  She and her friends huddled just inside the cemetery walls as they gazed in trepidation at the shadowy formation of headstones and crumbling mausoleums. Silhouetted against the darkness, marble angels stood with bowed heads and furled wings, celestial sentinels as cold and silent as the graves they watched over.

  Elizabeth didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be anywhere but here. Spending the night in St. John’s Cemetery as part of a sorority initiation was just plain crazy, not to mention against the rules. They’d all be in big trouble if the school got wind of what they were doing.

  “Do you think we’ll see Leary’s ghost tonight?” Claire Cavendish asked nervously. A pale, slender girl, she was even more skittish about the coming night than Elizabeth. Claire jumped as the heavy, iron gates clanged shut behind them in the wind. “They say he rises every five years.”

  “Oh, come on,” Kat Ridgemont scoffed. “You don’t really believe all those stories about ghosts and witches, do you? That stuff was made up just to attract tourists. None of it’s true.”

  “What about those women who were murdered in Moriah’s Landing fifteen years ago?” Claire challenged. “Did they make that up, too?”

  “Claire!” Brie Dudley warned in a low voice.

  Claire clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God, Kat. I’m so sorry. I forgot.”

  Kat shrugged. “It’s okay. I forget sometimes myself.”

  But Elizabeth didn’t think that was true. Kat’s mother was thought to be the first victim of a serial killer who had terrorized Moriah’s Landing fifteen years ago. Before his gruesome reign ended, three more young women had lost their lives, and Elizabeth knew that in spite of what Kat said, her mother’s death still haunted her. The killings haunted th
e entire town because the murderer had never been caught.

  Gooseflesh prickled the back of Elizabeth’s neck. She fervently wanted to believe they had nothing to fear tonight—from the killer or from Leary’s ghost—but she couldn’t seem to shake her disquiet.

  But at fifteen, she was the baby of the group. The other girls were 18, and Elizabeth was always conscious of the age difference. She wasn’t about to be the first to suggest they turn back.

  “Elizabeth?”

  She blinked as the beam of someone’s flashlight caught her in the face.

  “You okay?” Brie asked worriedly. “You’re being awfully quiet. You haven’t said a word since we got here.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I’ve just been thinking.”

  Kat glanced over her shoulder. “About McFarland Leary?” she teased.

  “Who else?” Elizabeth tried to say lightly, but her tone sounded a bit defensive even to her.

  “You believe in ghosts, too, don’t you?” Claire whispered beside her.

  Elizabeth hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she believed in. She just knew there were things in this world that couldn’t be explained.

  “Look!” Tasha Pierce said on a breathless whisper. “There it is!”

  Tasha and Kat were in front, and they came to a stop as Tasha angled her light over Leary’s grave. Weather and time had worn smooth the face of the headstone, until all but a faint trace of carving remained. But they knew it was Leary’s grave.

  Lightning flickered overhead as wind gusted through the cemetery. Shivering, Tasha tucked her blond hair inside her collar. “We’d better get started before the storm hits.”

  The girls dropped to their knees, forming a circle around the grave. Tasha placed her flashlight in the center, then removed an ornate wooden box from her backpack and held it up to the light.

  “Inside are five scrolls,” she intoned solemnly, her voice rising over the wind. “All but one are blank. Whosoever chooses the image of McFarland Leary must enter the haunted mausoleum. Alone.”

  Elizabeth was the last to draw. The others had waited for her, and now they all unrolled the tiny scrolls they’d each selected.

  Beside her, Claire gave a horrified gasp. She held up the slip of paper so that everyone could see the etching of McFarland Leary.

  Of all the girls, Claire was the least prepared to enter the haunted crypt alone. She was the most sensitive, the most easily frightened.

  Elizabeth swallowed back her own fear. “I’ll go in your place, Claire.”

  “No,” Brie said. “You’re the youngest, Elizabeth. I’m not letting you go anywhere alone. I’ll go.”

  “I will.” Tasha wadded up her scroll and stuffed it in her pocket. “This graveyard is full of Pierces. They’ll protect one of their own.”

  “I say none of us go.” Kat slammed the box shut and glanced around the circle. The wind whipped her black hair straight back from her face, making her look almost otherworldly. “They can’t make us do this. Hazing went out with the Dark Ages.”

  There were murmurs of assent all around, but Claire shook her head and got to her feet. “It’s not really hazing. Not the bad kind anyway. It’s a tradition, and besides, I don’t want to be the cause of any of us getting blackballed.”

  Kat scowled. “Who gives a flying—”

  “I care,” Claire said softly. “I can do this. I need to do this. I’ll be fine.”

  Ignoring their protests, she picked up her flashlight and headed toward the ancient, crumbling mausoleum. In the intermittent flickers of lightning, Elizabeth could see a broken cross silhouetted against the stormy sky.

  Slowly, Claire climbed the stone steps, opened the door, and then, glancing back only once, stepped through the dark portal. For a moment, they could see her light playing off the walls, and then the door creaked shut behind her.

  “I’m going in there with her.” Kat started to get to her feet, but Tasha grabbed her hand.

  “No, wait. Maybe this really is something she wants to do on her own. Besides, we’ll be right here if she needs us.”

  “Then we have to do our part,” Brie said. “Are we all agreed?”

  “Agreed,” Elizabeth murmured, but guilt washed over her because as frightened as she was for Claire, a part of her was glad she wasn’t the one inside that crypt.

  “Once we join hands, the circle must not be broken,” Tasha warned. “Physically or mentally.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her eyes closed as the girls joined hands, forming a protective circle as they summoned the natural forces of earth, air, fire and water to guard Claire from the ghosts of McFarland Leary and any other evil creatures who might roam the night.

  But for just a split second, Elizabeth’s mind wandered, and she thought about Cullen Ryan, a boy she’d had a crush on for ages. In trouble with the law, he’d dropped out of high school the year before and left town in the middle of the night. Elizabeth had no idea where he’d gone, or if she would ever see him again. But she prayed that wherever he was, he was safe, too.

  And at the very moment when her concentration was weakened, when the spiritual circle was broken, thunder cracked overhead and a scream ripped through the darkness.

  Claire!

  The girls scrambled to their feet and raced toward the mausoleum. The door was stuck at first, but Kat managed to shove it open. The beam of her flashlight chased away shadows and shimmered off cobwebs suspended from the ornate ceiling. The scent of death and decay permeated the air, but there was no sign of Claire.

  Elizabeth’s heart started to pound with a terrible fear, a horrible premonition. She knew what had happened. While she’d been thinking about Cullen, the protective circle had been broken. The evil had been allowed in, and now Claire was gone.

  And it was all Elizabeth’s fault.

  Chapter One

  Five years later…

  Elizabeth peered through her rain-spattered windshield as she wended her way around the curving drive toward the lighted mansion. February-bare oaks reached skeletal arms across the narrow lane, entwining with one another to form a natural arbor through which only thin tendrils of light could creep. The night was very dark.

  Comprising well over a hundred acres of landscaped grounds, the Pierce compound—hidden from prying eyes by eight-foot, ivy-covered stone walls and thick stands of evergreens—was a masterpiece of design and privacy. The focal point was a lavish brick colonial owned by William and Maureen Pierce, the town’s most prominent citizens.

  A Pierce ancestor had founded Moriah’s Landing in 1652, and the descendants had lived there ever since. The family remained active in many areas, most notably politics and science. Rumor had it that William and Maureen’s lavish masquerade ball tonight was not only to continue the celebration that had begun on New Year’s Eve to commemorate the 350th anniversary of the town’s founding, but to help launch their eldest son’s first political campaign.

  Elizabeth liked Drew Pierce well enough and she thought he’d make a fine mayor, especially considering she didn’t particularly care for the current one, Fredrick Thane. But in spite of the gossip regarding Drew and the potential for fireworks when Mayor Thane made his appearance at the ball, Elizabeth wasn’t looking forward to this night. She’d never been particularly adept at socializing, and a masked ball was a little out of her league.

  But then, disguising herself as someone other than who she truly was might not be such a bad thing, she decided. A seventeenth-century noblewoman, dressed to kill in a lavish gold ball gown with a plunging neckline, might know how to seize the moment—should one present itself—as Elizabeth Douglas never had.

  She tugged at that neckline, discomfited by the amount of cleavage showing. Her new WonderBra, she decided, was truly that.

  A bolt of lightning temporarily blinded her, and she slowed the car. Dark, roiling clouds hung low on the horizon, and over the sound of her car engine, she could hear the ominous rumble of thunder.

  Earlier, when the first raindrops
had pelted the roof of her cozy cottage, she’d hurried over to the window to stare out, thinking with a fatalistic shrug that, naturally, it would storm tonight. It always stormed in Moriah’s Landing on momentous occasions—such as, she’d been told, on the night twenty years ago when Kat Ridgemont’s mother had been murdered. And fifteen years later, on the night Claire Cavendish had vanished from the old haunted mausoleum.

  Claire had been found in the cemetery several days later, her body tortured, her mind so tormented she hadn’t been able to tell anyone what had happened to her. She’d resided ever since in a mental hospital a hundred miles west of Moriah’s Landing, and every time Elizabeth drove up to visit her friend, she was stricken with guilt.

  Which wasn’t rational, she knew. There was nothing she could have done to save Claire that night. She and the other girls had never even seen who took Claire. To this day, the authorities still didn’t know how the assailant had managed to get inside that mausoleum, subdue Claire and carry her off without anyone having seen anything.

  At first, the girls had been under a cloud of suspicion—a sorority initiation ceremony gone terribly awry. But they were all so distraught, so terrified that the police had finally believed their wild tale.

  To think that any of them would have done such a horrible thing to poor Claire….

  Rounding a sharp curve, Elizabeth was momentarily facing eastward, and in the distance, she caught a glimpse of the Bluffs, a towering stone castle perched on the edge of a steep cliff that fell sharply away to the sea. It was there, on the jagged rocks below the castle, that Tasha Pierce had met with a horrible fate of her own, only one month after Claire had been found. It had been storming that night, too.